Conspiracy Theory as Myth-Busting?

A response to Ludo de Witte on Dag Hammarskjöld, Katanga, and the coup against the Lumumba government

Henning Melber challenges Ludo de Witte who claims to reveal the “true role” of Dag Hammarskjöld “in the imperialist catastrophe that savaged the Congo”. Melber argues that De Witte’s blogpost offers no new empirical evidence, and demonstrates a failure to understand global institutions and the role of individuals within them. He argues Ludo de Witte shows a total denial of local dynamics and agency, which has led to misperceptions bordering on conspiracy theories.

By Henning Melber

“A terrible myth has developed around the UN Secretary General Dag Hammarskjöld”, opens the intro to Ludo de Witte’s blog of 8 February on ROAPE. It recycles his “revelations” of “the true role” of Hammarskjöld, whom he refers to as “Mr. H” (more fondly called “the boss” by his staff). Since almost 30 years de Witte has accused him to be “one of the architects of the Congo crisis that led to the removal and murder” of Patrice Lumumba. His blogpost claims to reveal the “true role” of Hammarskjöld “in the imperialist catastrophe that savaged the Congo”. It offers no new empirical evidence. It is an interesting example how a lack of understanding of global governance institutions and the limited role of individuals within institutionalised asymmetric power relations, combined with total denial of local dynamics and agency, leads to misperceptions bordering on conspiracy theories.

My counter arguments are – as those of de Witte – based on earlier work. This includes my article in ROAPE in 2012 and my monograph Dag Hammarskjöld, the United Nations and the Decolonisation of Africa, which offers detailed references and sources for all what follows (and more). Beyond the case of the Congo, it puts Hammarskjöld’s approach into a wider context, including his anything but “imperialist” role in handling the so-called Suez crisis (1956), and being – much to his anger – prevented from opposing the French occupation of Bizerte (1961). Both cases show in opposite ways the scope and limitations of the office held. Limitations, which were also visible in the case of the Congo.

As de Witte mentions, the Congolese government requested the UN to assist expelling Belgian troops and ending the secession of Katanga. But the Security Council, which – then as now – has the decision-making power, dealt with the matter only because Hammarskjöld used for the first time his right under Article 99 of the Charter to bring matters to its attention. After intensive negotiations a draft resolution was tabled (in consultations with Hammarskjöld) by Tunisia, a strategic move already successfully applied in the Suez crisis. Adopted with the votes of the US and the USSR, with France and the UK abstaining, the compromise led to opposing interpretations by the USSR and the US. As we know since then, a problem the UN has not managed to resolve. Another resolution – again submitted by Tunisia – therefore requested all states “to refrain from any action which might undermine the territorial integrity and the political independence of the Republic of the Congo”. Again, we now know, implementation remains in many cases wishful thinking. Is the UN Secretary General to be blamed for that?

The mandate of the Blue Helmets of ONUC (Opération des Nations Unies au Congo), including in the main a contingent of over 11,000 soldiers from six African Member States, Ireland, and Sweden, remained disputed. Confronted with different expectations, Hammarskjöld defended the ONUC abstention from direct interference into domestic policy of a sovereign state, in line with the UN Charter. As Hammarskjöld stated in the General Assembly with reference to the contested meaning of the resolutions adopted: “one gets the impression that the Congo operation is looked at as being in the hands of the Secretary-General, as somehow distinct from the United Nations. No: this is your operation … It is for you to indicate what you want to have done.” Backed by the Southern Member States, he refused to resign, as demanded by the Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev. As Brian Urquhart (1919-2021), the longest ever serving UN official, stated in an interview for the UN History Project, this made Hammarskjöld “a heroic figure in the West – which was the last thing he wanted to be.”

When Lumumba was ousted from office, Hammarskjöld asked for legal advice on how to react. He was advised to follow the Loi Fondamentale as the provisional constitution of the Congo. It allowed the President – Joseph Kasa-Vubu – to dismiss the Prime Minister if – as had been the case – it was endorsed by at least one minister. But while Hammarskjöld felt there was no mandate for ONUC to reinstate Lumumba by force, he regarded him as the legitimate Prime Minister. Both Lise Namikas and Alanna O’Malley – far from being sympathetic of Western (neo)colonialism or uncritical of Hammarskjöld – agree, that despite animosities in the personal interaction between the two, Hammarskjöld was convinced that without Lumumba a solution for the Congo was impossible.

When Lumumba at the end of November decided to leave his residence guarded by the Blue Helmets to mobilise for his return to office, the ONUC mandate did not allow his continued personal protection, as an undue interference in domestic affairs. Learning of Lumumba’s capture, Hammarskjöld warned Kasa-Vubu in a letter on 3 December against action “taken contrary to recognized rules of law”, putting “in jeopardy the international prestige of the Republic of the Congo” as “a most serious blow to principles to be upheld by the United Nations”. In another letter two days later, he referred to the Charter principle of “respect for human rights and for fundamental freedoms for all” and urged that the “International Red Cross be asked to examine the detained persons and their places and conditions of detention”. Kasa-Vubu rejected on 7 December the demands as partial interference.

Learning of Lumumba’s execution, Hammarskjöld wrote in a letter to John Steinbeck, which is archived in the Dag Hammarskjöld Papers at the Royal Library in Stockholm: “no one, in the long pull, will really profit from Lumumba’s death, least of all those outside the Congo who now strain to do so but should one day confront a reckoning with truth and decency.” As Brian Urquhart remembered: “I think it took a great toll on him; he became extremely irascible, extremely emotional … and it really was a very gloomy time.”

To prevent any misinterpretation: Hammarskjöld was not infallible. But blaming him for an active role in Lumumba’s assassination is as far-fetched as turning him into an anti-imperialist icon. In the case of the Congo he made some bad choices of staff, appointed and was not always in full command or control over the dynamics unfolding. Such a nuanced approach lacks de Witte’s sweeping condemnation.

There were indeed contradictions and inconsistencies, suggesting that the Congo operation was at times influenced more by individuals rather than being a concerted action based on a common strategy. Communication with competing Congolese factions was at best complicated. Confusing situations required often quick decisions and actions. Much responsibility and room for manoeuvre was left to individuals on the ground and in the UN Secretariat. The “Congo Club”, composed of senior staff members directly involved in the operations and was a mix, in which personal chemistry – especially a toxic relation between the Afro-American Ralph Bunche and Patrice Lumumba – played a negative role beyond the direct influence and control of the Secretary-General.

Influential officials shared, as Georges Nzongola-Ntalala observed, “a common Cold War outlook with Western policy makers and saw their mission in the Congo as that of preserving the then existing balance of forces in the world.” But there is no convincing evidence that this happened with the authorisation or acceptance of Hammarskjöld. Blaming him, borders to accusing Antonio Guterres for not preventing the genocidal warfare of Israel in Gaza.

Hammarskjöld articulated his frustration on 13 February 1961 in the Security Council. When the UN was accused to have acted in complicity with Western interests and should be held responsible for the brutal murder of Lumumba, he responded: “For seven or eight months, through efforts far beyond the imagination of those who founded this Organization, it has tried to counter tendencies to introduce the Big-Power conflict into Africa and put the young African countries under the shadow of the Cold War. … We effectively countered efforts from all sides to make the Congo a happy hunting ground for national interests.” It is indeed debatable if this was achieved. But it is fair to give him credit, as Catherine Goetze does, “that he particularly sought to order the world according to a specific idea of how the rules of the world should be written, and not how the brute force of the states shaped it.”

Dag Hammarskjöld’s agenda was anti-hegemonic; where he failed as Secretary-General, it was a failure by all others too, who followed him in the office. Not always for personal lack of commitment, political bias, or incompetence.

Ludo de Witte could have shown more awareness of the limitations of individual actors within institutionalised global governance – not least being aware of more recent examples, when any meaningful role of the UN in conflict prevention or solution has been blocked, at the cost of millions of lives. It is somewhat a sad irony to target the Secretary-General, who is widely considered as a role model in the search for even-handed approaches, while being fully aware of the limitations of his office.

For those in doubt of what to make of Dag Hammarskjöld, and willing to give him a minimum degree of trust, it might be instructive to read some of his statements and speeches between 1953 and 1961. They are documented in four volumes (amounting to more than 2,000 pages). Despite the usual inherent discrepancies between word and action – even more so when action was prevented by those who were in command of the organisation’s role in international politics (and these were the Security Council’s permanent five Member States, not the Secretary-General) – they are indicative of Hammarskjöld’s values and principles. Alternatively, the biography by Roger Lipsey  or the study of his role in the UN system by Manuel Fröhlich  might do no harm. As these show, his convictions were far from being a willing instrument of Western imperialism.

Henning Melber is the Director emeritus of the Dag Hammarskjöld Foundation and author of Dag Hammarskjöld, the United Nations and the Decolonisation of Africa (Hurst, London 2019). He is Extraordinary Professor at the University of Pretoria and the University of the Free State in Bloemfontein, Associate of the Nordic Africa Institute and Senior Research Fellow at the Institute of Commonwealth Studies of the University of London. Soon to be published: The Long Shadow of German Colonialism (Hurst, London 2024).

Featured Photograph:  UN secretary general Dag Hammarskjöld arrives at Lydda airport, on his way from Beirut to Cairo (10 April 1956).

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