Offshore Installations: Practical Security and Legal Considerations

Evaluation of physical security risks to energy infrastructure traditionally focused on onshore installations and pipelines. Recent well-publicized open water incidents bring offshore contingencies to the forefront of operators’, insurers’, governments’ and even the public’s concerns. The increasing importance of offshore hydrocarbon operations coupled with the changing risk nature of the offshore environment, marked by a shift in perspective from terrorism to include civil disobedience and unsanctioned scientific research, present additional vulnerabilities warranting consideration in today’s paradigm.

Polish anti-terror forces training on a platform in the Baltic Sea

Polish anti-terror forces training on the ‘Petrobaltic’ platform in the Baltic Sea

This article seeks to clarify practical and legal considerations which have been absent from mainstream discourse in the wake of recent offshore contingencies. It further argues that updated legislative and regulatory developments to match the changing threat paradigm are needed to guide offshore installation security policies and responses.

Practical Issues Regarding Offshore Security

In recent weeks, eco-activists’ attempts to board offshore drilling platforms as a form of civil disobedience has revived the question of a coastal state’s enforcement powers and more specifically the lengths which a state can go to protect its offshore assets.

This analysis does not seek to qualify the actions of the perpetrators as any specific illegal act. That judgment is up to the relevant courts to decide based on violations of international and national laws. However, the author notes that no matter the motive, any attack on or hostile approach to an offshore installation – whether for purposes of terrorism or civil disobedience – is extremely dangerous to life and property.

First and foremost, offshore platforms are high-hazard installations and any unauthorized activities should be considered a security threat, having the potential to damage the installation, with subsequent increased risk to the rig itself, personnel onboard, and to the regional ecosystem.

Secondly, from a rig operator’s or coast guard patrol vessel’s perspective, when a large vessel unexpectedly transits near a rig, the operators and any security personnel rightfully should have some heightened alarm. Despite being built of reinforced materials, some even capable of withstanding icebergs, offshore platforms are not designed to endure collision with vessels and subsequent ramifications that could arise thereof.

When offshore rig operators witness a large unknown vessel dispatch two-man-teams in small RIBs to approach and possibly attempt to seize their platform, they again should rightfully be concerned. Irrespective of the assailants’ motives, the bright color of their wetsuits, or the name painted on the side of their RIBs and mothership, operators and maritime security authorities must be prepared for all scenarios, not just civil disobedience, but anything the incident could escalate to including piracy and terrorism.

Looking down at a fleet of small boats, which can seem like Fast Attack Craft swarming toward the platform, it is impossible to make a precise judgment as to the immediate threat they posed, impossible to verify their true identity and intent, and impossible to recognize onboard equipment as being innocent, especially when they attempt to evade authorities and disregard navigational safety demands. Could they be pirates? Could they be saboteurs? Could they be terrorists? Could they be eco-activists? In today’s world it gets even more complicated. Could they be terrorists or pirates disguised as eco-activists?

To some this sounds like science fiction or the plot of a Tom Clancy novel, but increasingly such false flag operations are becoming commonplace. In Afghanistan terrorists have donned ISAF or Afghan Police fatigues to gain access to secure buildings and wreak havoc. In Chechnya, they used police uniforms. In Pakistan and East Africa there have been recent reports of male terrorists dressing in women’s clothing to avoid detection. Off the Horn of Africa pirates regularly try to blend in with fishermen, even throwing their weapons overboard and begin playing with fishing equipment if they think interception or capture is imminent. An extremist environmentalist group or extremist group operating under the guise of an environmental organization isn’t that far-fetched a concept, especially when the equipment needed for such an operation would be virtually the same – plus concealed weapons or explosives.

Can maritime-based demonstrations of civil disobedience by bona fide environmental organizations be a deadly risk? Absolutely. Many civil disobedience demonstrations around the globe have unexpectedly escalated from non-violent peaceful protest into violent clashes with opposition civilians and/or authorities which resulted in injuries and death. This may not always be the fault of the demonstrating group; sometimes it is the authorities who escalate the response. Those who choose to stage demonstrations of any kind will have to deal with the international and national legal consequences of their actions regardless of their ideological motive – be it in the name of ‘democracy,’ religious extremism, or ‘environmental protection.’

Claiming environmental protection as an ideological motive is not a carte blanche to stage an attack or raid on national critical infrastructure, whether violent or non-violent. Private property and critical infrastructure at sea, specifically offshore platforms, are not suitable and far too precariously situated to be an appropriate venue for demonstration, especially attempted raids or seizures.

Thus, from a practical standpoint, offshore crews, coast guards, and other relevant individuals must always be prepared for the worst case scenario, and then adjust their response to meet the actual threat posed. If vessels are compliant and respond to traffic control requests indicating navigation error and attempt to steer away from the platform, then the threat level decreases. However, when RHIBs approaching the platform disregard these directives and undertake evasive maneuvering to avoid capture by authorities, then the threat level and threat response should increase accordingly.

Legal Considerations: Offshore Safety Zones

Irrespective of the label placed on those approaching an offshore platform or their assumed motives, the legal basis providing states jurisdiction to respond to threats must be understood to ensure security and safe navigation around offshore installations.

The 1982 United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea provides the backbone for offshore governance by coastal states and those navigating the oceans. This treaty does not only zone coastal states’ offshore areas, but also provides specific guidance for their rights, responsibilities, and jurisdiction in the concentric zones as well as basic legal basis for protecting offshore installations.
UNCLOS

 

Offshore platforms are typically located in one of a coastal state’s three main zones: the territorial sea, contiguous zone, or exclusive economic zone (and in special circumstances even further on a state’s continental shelf). Within the territorial sea, the coastal state has full enforcement jurisdiction over all security matters and can take enforcement measures against any vessels not in innocent passage. In the contiguous zone, the coastal state has enforcement powers over law enforcement issues which affect its domestic stability, specifically customs, fiscal, immigration, health, and sanitary issues. Thus, within these two zones the coastal state has broad jurisdiction and ability to secure its offshore assets.

In the exclusive economic zone (EEZ, 24-200 nautical miles from the coastline) however, a coastal state’s rights are more limited. There, the state has full sovereignty to exploit living and non living marine resources and take protective measures to maintain those operations, yet it cannot generally restrict others’ right to innocently transit the waters.

Although vague, UNCLOS includes a special clause which provides coastal states with the ability to harden offshore structures in the EEZ and beyond* by creating a 500 meter safety zone around them. Article 60 of the Convention stipulates:

 

“- … The coastal State may, where necessary, establish reasonable safety zones around such artificial islands, installations and structures in which it may take appropriate measures to ensure the safety both of navigation and of the artificial islands, installations and structures.

 

– The breadth of the safety zones shall be determined by the coastal State, taking into account applicable international standards. Such zones shall be designed to ensure that they are reasonably related to the nature and function of the artificial islands, installations or structures, and shall not exceed a distance of 500 metres around them, measured from each point of their outer edge, except as authorized by generally accepted international standards or as recommended by the competent international organization. Due notice shall be given of the extent of safety zones.

 

– All ships must respect these safety zones and shall comply with generally accepted international standards regarding navigation in the vicinity of artificial islands, installations, structures and safety zones…”

In essence, such a safety zone is an area of restricted navigation. The zone itself may or may not be marked, monitored, or enforced, but ships are expected to refrain from navigating close to offshore structures. Any uninvited encroachment on the zone by large vessels, small craft, individuals, or jettisoned material is considered a definite safety hazard and potential security concern.

Within the zone the coastal state and potentially the offshore operations team can restrict navigation and take reasonable measures to apprehend and even penalize violators. In more serious situations, especially regarding potentially hostile approaches, they can take measures to prevent approach to the structure including actions to disable the vessel should it ignore good faith efforts to stop it without the use of force.

 

 

The safety zone was designed with navigational hazards in mind, not prevention of a deliberate hostile attack, whether that is ramming a vessel laden with explosives into a platform or raiding the platform for piracy or any other purpose. As shown in the above illustration, 500 meters is not a large security space within which to operate a defensive strategy. It is not broad enough, for example, to immobilize large ships, which can take some miles to slow down to a complete stop.

For reference, a Harvard University analysis showed that a vessel traveling at twenty-five knots (29 mph) would cross the outermost limit of the zone and make contact with the platform in about 39 seconds. This timeframe is so limited that it is impossible to realistically identify the vessel as friend or foe, attempt to make communications contact, await response, and if no response or unsatisfactory response is given, then dispatch a security team (which may or may not be onboard the platform) to intercept the vessel if possible, let alone request assistance from state law enforcement or military. This exposes a significant gap in the regulatory framework governing offshore maritime security and warrants further examination and tightening to match today’s threat environment.

While the wording of UNCLOS does allow for extending the breadth of this zone: “safety zone … shall not exceed a distance of 500 metres…except as authorized by generally accepted international standards or as recommended by the competent international organization,” to date, the UN’s International Maritime Organization (IMO) has yet to approve any requests for extension.

The IMO has, however, adopted Resolution A.671(16) which tasks flag states with ensuring their vessels do not wrongly enter established safety zones and suggests coastal states report infringements to the vessel’s flag state. While this resolution grants further legal basis to enforce vessel adherence to these safety zones, it provides only a reactionary response by the flag state, and does not provide specific authority for a coastal state’s immediate response to vessels which pose imminent threats to a platform.

What specific interception measures coastal state authorities or security forces can adopt within such safety zones is a contested issue. Clearly, the fact that they can establish zones and restrict navigation means they have some limited jurisdiction. Increasingly, creeping maritime security jurisdiction in the post-9/11 paradigm has given coastal states substantial latitude to take security measures in their EEZs in the name of national security, based on national decrees or customary international law. And of course the right of self defense to protect life and property from imminent risk of harm is a universally recognized concept.

The risk of damage and the subsequent security or environmental consequences that could result from a hostile approach to or takeover of a platform are far too great to ignore. For isolated locations far out at sea, clarifying and possibly enhancing the legal regime which governs security jurisdiction for offshore platforms is crucial to design and deliver appropriate responses to varied threats.

*UNCLOS Article 80: “Article 60 applies mutatis mutandis to artificial islands, installations and structures on the continental shelf.”

Simon O. Williams is a maritime security analyst specializing in offshore security, Arctic maritime challenges, naval capabilities, and multinational cooperation. He previously worked in the American and British private sector and in several roles supporting the US government. He is now based in Norway and contributes independent analysis to industry, media, and policymakers while pursuing an LL.M. in Law of the Sea.

This article is for information only and does not provide legal consultation services.

Nigeria’s Navy: Setting Sail in Stormy Seas

Zephyr

In the din of East African security issues, the navy of Africa’s most populous nation has fallen out of the international eye. With continued pressure on diversified procurement, increasing capability, and new international cooperation, Nigeria’s Navy is slowly growing to fill a void dominated by piracy, petroleum smuggling, and other criminal elements that is re-engaging international attention in Western Africa. Whereas the state of Somalia has been quite unable to manage its offshore affairs, the Nigerian Navy has plotted a course out to sea under the pall of its severe security challenges. If the challenges of oversight, funding, and collusion don’t capsize their efforts, it may become a quite fine sailing.

Procurement-Let’s Go Shopping:

Since 2009, Nigeria has been pursuing an aggressive new procurement program. During the last Nigerian naval modernization period, the late 1970’s and early 1980’s, Nigeria purchased a vast number of vessels from Germany (LST’s) , France (Combattantes), the UK (Thornycraft), Italy (Lerici minesweepers), and others. Unlike the procurement processes familiar in larger navies, such those of NATO, Nigeria ran an “open-source” program, pulling already-proven foreign systems off the foreign shelf. This new buildup is similar, with some new attempt to build local ship-building capacity.

NNS Thunder, the former USCG Chase
NNS Thunder, the former USCG Chase

The three big ticket “ship of the line” purchases are the 2 “Offshore Patrol Vessels” and the NNS Thunder. The NNS Thunder is the old school “off the shelf” style ship purchase, bringing a Hamilton-class High Endurance Cutter, the ex-USCG Chase, into Nigerian service in 2011. The “Offshore Patrol Vessels” were commissioned with China Industry Shipbuilding Corporation and approved for purchase by President Jonathan in April of 2012. The fleet’s major combatant until the NNS Thunder was the NNS Aradu, an over 30 year old vessel and Nigeria’s only aviation-capable ship. The new contenders will add a total of 5 new 76mm Oto Melara’s added to the fleet, a none too shabby improvement of overall firepower for littoral operations. The 45 (NNS Thunder)/ 20 (OPV’s) day endurance will give the Nigerian Navy an impressive new stay-time for continuous at-sea opeartions. Arguably most important is that all three vessels have maritime aviation capabilities that will greatly expand the reach and ISR component of Nigerian maritime operations. These three ships are right on target to fill critical gaps in Nigeria’s capabilities.

Nigerian Navy Shaldag mk III
Nigerian Navy Shaldag mk III

Nigeria’s littoral squadrons are also scheduled for improvement. Nigeria is purchasing several brown-green water patrol craft to bolster her much-beleaguered inshore security where smuggling of all kinds is rife. Singaporean Manta’s and Sea Eagle’s, US Defender’s, Israeli Shaldag Mk III’s, and others will add potent brown and green water assets to Nigeria’s toolbox.

On small ship for a ship, one large ship for Nigerian Shipbuilding kind.
On small ship for a ship, one large ship for Nigerian Shipwright kind.

However, not all of Nigeria’s purchases are imports. Thi package also begins the cultivation of indigenous ship-building capability. One of the aforementioned OPV’s is scheduled for 70% of its construction to occur in Nigeria. To more fanfare, the NNS Andoni was commissioned in 2012. Designed by Nigerian engineers and produced locally with 60% locally sourced parts, it is considered a good step forward for building local expertise and capability in the realm of the shipwrights. More local capacity and expertise will further increase the ease with which ships bought locally, or abroad, can be maintained.

-But Avoid the Bait and Switch!

While flexible, this off-the-shelf model can lead to some bad dealings either by vendors or government buyers. Flexible US defense procurement specialists would love more unilateral authority and oversight compared to their gilded cage of powerpoint nightmares. However, the opposite can lead to incredibly terrible purchasing decisions. While Nigeria’s 2 OPV’s are running for current a total cost of $42m, a proposal was made to purchase one 7 year old vessel for $65m dollars. That vessel had a further $25m in damage that needed to be repaired. That particular vessel now sails as the KNS Jasiri after a large financing scandal of several years ended. At the time of delivery it appeared completely unarmed as well, though since it has since had weapons installed.  If one were to ask why Nigeria would want to buy a single unarmed vessel with no aviation capability for the price of 4 more gunned-up and helo-ready OPV’s, the answer is probably not a “clean” one. Oversight is going to continue to be an issue in a country with one of the bottom corruption ratings.

Capability- Shooting more, shooting together :

Popped collars, midriff, and tiny shorts? Worst pirates EVER!
Popped collars, midriff, and tiny shorts? Worst pirates EVER!

Ships are all well and good, but what matters is what you do with them and how. Though the scale of offshore criminality is likely in total hovering around 10 billion, and the entire naval budget is roughly a half billion, the Nigerian Navy is moving more aggressively to course-correct their coastal regions. Several instances include a successful gun battle in August, ending the careers of six pirates, further arrests for oil theft in september, and a nice little capture of pirates in August for which photo opportunities were ensured for the press. The Nigerian Navy is further attempting to extend the “immediacy” of their reach by establishing Forward Operating Bases, like the ones at Bayelsa and Delta states. These and many other instances are the nickles-and-dimes as the Nigerian Navy chips away at the corners of their behemoth security challenge at sea. Every journey begins with a single step, and though the Nigerian Navy has reached a bit of a trot, they have a long way to go. But even in the Navy, no man is an island. With a limited budget and math-rough half of the budget going to the army, the Nigerian Navy needs support. The civil and military authorities are moving closer to that “joint” model with the Memorandum of Understanding between the Nigerian Air Force (NAF) and the Nigerian Maritime Administration and Safety Agency (NIMASA) on the use of NAF assets in Anti-Piracy operations. With an existing MoU between NIMASA, this creates further points of coordination between civil, naval, and air force assets in a coordinated battle against criminals at sea. It’s no J3/J5 shop, but it’s a start.

-But Don’t Undershoot!

The Nigerian Navy’s take from the $5.947bn defense budget is a cool $445m. This is a continued increase for both the defense budget overall and the navy budget specifically and is expected to continue increasing. While this is all well and good, the Nigerian Navy faces a criminal enterprise worth billions: Piracy ($2bn), Oil Theft: ($8bn), and others. The Nigerian Navy itself has a way to go with shoring up its vast body of small arms, ammunition, and gear. In 2012,  a fact-finding mission by members of the Nigerian senate found an appalling state of affairs in regards to equipment shortages, maintenance, and a whole slew of other steady-state problems. Enthusiasm and new ships can only go so far. The Nigerian Navy needs to spend the extra money to shore up their flanks, refurbishing or replacing their vast stock of older ships, weapons, equipment, and ordnance stores (without forgetting training).

Cooperation- Team Player: 4026984_orig

Nigeria is no stranger to international cooperation. Many forget that in August 26th, 1996, ECOMOG (under ECOWAS) actually conducted an amphibious assault into Liberia led by Nigerian military units. From peacekeeping in Liberia, to Sierra Leone, to Darfur, to Mali, etc… etc… Nigeria troops have been a staple of many peacekeeping efforts. Now, their typical face abroad, the boots on the ground, is pulling back to the homeland to fight Boko Haram. However, the navy is still extending its project to integrate into partnership programs through both engagement at home and extending the hand abroad. Nigeria is an active catalyst of the regional security regime. For one, ECOWAS is a factor at sea as well as land. At an ECOWAS conference ending 9 OCT, the naval chiefs of Nigeria, Niger, Benin, and Togo agreed to a common “modality” for the combating of terrorism and agreed to set up a “Maritime Multinational Coordination Center” in Benin to coordinate security efforts. It also doesn’t hurt to host the maiden run of a major procurement/policy forum in your continent, namely the “Offshore Patrol Vessels Conference” for hundreds of African and interested parties. Networking, though an intangible product, is an important way of building institutional strength and connections. Nigeria also engages with US and NATO training missions, like the most recent Operation African Wind: a training exercise for the Armed Forces of Nigeria and other regional militaries in conjunction with the Netherlands Maritime Forces under the auspices of the United States sponsored African Partnership Station. In Lagos and Calabar, units will learn about sea-borne operations, jungle combat, amphibious raids, etc… over 14 days of training and 4 days of exercises. Finally, Nigeria’s navy has made a very respectable show of striking out by conducting a “world tour” of sorts with the new NNS Thunder. The NNS Thunder made a tour around Africa before crossing the Indian Ocean for an historic visit to Australia this month for International Fleet Week. The Nigerian Navy seems determined not to remain shackled by their previous bad position, and is aggressively pursuing an expanded mission and self-image through more than just procurement. Despite the challenges ahead, they’ve demonstrated a reach few of their continental compatriots can lay claim to. It may not help against pirates, but it should be a fine addition to espirit de corps.

-But Also Collusion, Not Always the Right Team…

BURN! Someone call a trauma unit!
BURN! Someone call a trauma unit!

However, while the navy coordinates with foreign navies, some officials in Nigeria coordinate with the criminal elements. Such “industrial scale” theft of oil in particular would be impossible without the involvement of at least some security officials and politicians. The wide-spread collusion helps stall policies designed to curb the vast hemorrhaging of wealth, since the wealth is hemorrhaging to some with influence on the levers of power. This collusion is further muddled by the revelations about government payments to stop oil theft. While a pay-off policy might be effective in the short term, as it has been in Honduras, the long-term promise is muddled, especially if it turns off the money spigot to those receiving graft.  While corruption has improved since the end of the patronage-heavy military state, some see very little hope at all: from the luxurious government salaries to wholesale theft from government coffers. Whatever the case, even local perceptions of transparency are depressingly negative. If internal collusion with the criminal underground cannot be controlled, the Nigerian navy will never find itself with truly enough allies to defeat the foe some of their leaders look to for wallet-padding.

Right Course, Add More Steam:

The Nigerian Navy is making good progress. With new ships, expanded operations, and continued engagement the bow is pointed in the right direction. However, without maintaining the engineroom and navigational equipment by battling corruption and putting enough fuel in the diesels by increasing their defense budget, the Nigerian Navy will find itself floundering in the storm.

Matthew Hipple is a surface warfare officer and graduate of Georgetown’s School of Foreign Service. He is Director of the NEXTWAR blog and hosts of the Sea Control podcast. His opinions may not reflect those of the United States Navy, Department of Defense, or US Government. Did he mention he was host of the Sea Control podcast? You should start listening to that.

East Africa: More Than Just Pirates

The challenges facing East African maritime security are many, and without viable measures taken to combat growing sea-born threats, the region is destined to remain in a state of instability and war. The absence of a formidable naval power in the area has allowed illicit smuggling activity to flourish in the Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden, and has also allowed state and non-state actors to manipulate the lawlessness to their own advantage, leading to increased insecurity in the region.  Looking past East Africa’s most publicized maritime problem, piracy, I would like to discuss two equally threatening, but less well-known issues, currently inhibiting its stability.

Illicit Trafficking

The first major issue that arises due to inadequate regional naval capabilities is the widespread smuggling of illicit arms, drugs and people into, out of and throughout East African countries. The influx of drugs, munitions and other illicit goods, arm and fund terrorist organizations and militias not only on Africa’s Eastern coast but in the rest of the continent as well. Somalia’s al Shabaab, Kenya’s al Shabaab affiliate, al Hijra, and the Congolese rebel group M23, are all examples of groups sustained through illegal maritime smuggling.

Weapons enter the region not just through the vulnerable Gulf of Aden and the Somali coastline, but also through considerably more stable and peaceful countries like Kenya and Seychelles. Once ashore, illicit materials easily find their way through the hands of corrupt government officials to destabilizing, violent actors. New intelligence estimates point to growing cross continental smuggling networks between groups like al Shabaab and North Africa’s Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb, heightening the importance for a secure Eastern shore.

Human trafficking, another dangerous issue, further highlights the permeable nature of the regions’ maritime borders. According to the International Organization for Migration, in the first four months of 2012, 43,000 migrants traveled from East Africa, through the Gulf of Aden and the Red Sea, to Yemen. This constant flow of migrants in and out of the region allows for a massive human smuggling market.

In recent news, there have been reports of the success of the NATO fleet in reducing piracy in the Gulf of Aden and the Indian Ocean. But under Operation Ocean Shield, NATO vessels are strictly tasked with counter-piracy measures and are unable to intervene in the practice of illicit trafficking occurring in those same bodies of water. While good work is being done to prevent piratical attacks, illegal smuggling of people, munitions, and other goods remains unchecked.

Kenya’s Unilateral Maritime Power and its Consequences

It's hard being best on the block.
It’s hard being best on the block.

The second problem that surfaces is due to an uneven balance of power. Kenya possesses the overwhelming naval advantage in the region, allowing it hegemonic rule over maritime boundaries. Kenya has 23 ships in its fleet, which were mainly acquired through Western allies such as the United States, France, Spain and Great Britain. Kenya’s offensive capabilities are limited and its fleet only has two amphibious assault vessels, which were most recently used to attack the terrorist-held Somali city of Kismayo in September 2012. While the Kenyan fleet is small when compared to international standards, it is far more powerful than any other East African country.

Kenya’s Southern neighbor, Tanzania, has a navy that consists of seven attack vessels and twelve patrol vessels obtained from the Chinese between 1969-1971. Tanzania’s navy is effectively untested and would likely be unable to engage in any meaningful military action to secure its coastline. To Kenya’s north, Somalia has no navy to speak of, and has been reliant on the Kenyan naval power in helping secure key al Shabaab stronghold’s along Somalia’s Southern coast.

The absence of another equal, or at least, threatening East African power in the Indian Ocean allows Kenya to exert undue control over its maritime neighbors. Kenya and Somalia are in the middle of a maritime border dispute that is currently leaning in favor of Kenya. The Somali government believes the border should be drawn perpendicular to the coastline, whereas the Kenyan government wants the border to be drawn along the line of latitude. Complicating the issue are potential underwater oil reserves and existing oil licenses granted by both countries for exploration in the disputed area. Kenya continues to push for exploration agreements with private companies, despite the inability of the two countries to delineate an agreeable maritime boundary, aggravating an already tense relationship.

Further irritating Kenyan and Somali border relations, are corrupt Kenyan Navy officials who have taken advantage of Somalia’s fledgling central government and have begun to encroach on its sovereignty. A UN report released in July 2013, asserted that following al Shabaab’s defeat in Kismayo, the Kenyan Navy took over control of the port. It now controls all goods coming into and going out of Kismayo, and corrupt Kenyan officials collect revenues from the port that should instead be managed by the Somali government. Kenyan Navy personnel even flouted the UN ban on charcoal exports from Kismayo, despite protestations from the Somali government and international organizations.

Kenya’s unilateral maritime power allows corrupt individuals to adhere to their own rules of engagement and many times disregard international norms, infringing on neighboring countries’ maritime, and land-based sovereignty. This severely threatens stability in the region as this manipulation of power creates tenuous and volatile relationships with other East African nations and the international community.

The First Steps

When thinking of possible solutions to help increase naval power and maritime security in East Africa, it is hard to imagine viable near-term options. Some governments have taken steps to try to address maritime vulnerabilities. Kenya passed a law in 2010 formerly recognizing human trafficking as a crime. Also in 2010, the semi-autonomous Somali state of Puntland established the Puntland Maritime Police Force. It was first created as an anti-piracy body but it has had some success in intercepting arms, drugs and human smugglers. These measures are good first steps, but broader, regionally agreed upon action must be taken.

It is hard, however, for these countries’ governments to justify spending money to secure their nations’ maritime borders, when the there is no certainty of peace on land. But of course, it is necessary to understand that without maritime stability, that peace cannot be assured.

Breuk previously worked at the American Enterprise Institute’s Critical Threats Project, and published articles on issues relating to security in the Horn of Africa. She received her B.A. in International and Comparative Politics from Brown University and is currently studying in North Africa.

Searching for a Somali Coastguard

“We don’t consider ourselves sea bandits. Think of us like a coastguard.”
– Sugule Ali, Somali Pirate
 

The threat of Somali piracy has been greatly reduced by international naval patrols, improved security measures for ships, and the increased use of armed guards aboard vessels. However, a long-term solution, which empowers Somali security forces to suppress piracy (and also illegal fishing, terrorism, and human/drug/weapons trafficking), remains elusive. International donors and private security companies have engaged in several different initiatives to build coastguard capacity in Somalia over the last decade, but few have shown sustainable gains.

As a kickoff to CIMSEC’s Future African Navies Week, this article examines the trials of building maritime security capacity in the country most desperately in need of it. Lessons are drawn from past successes and failures with a view towards informing future policy.

The Missing Piece of the Puzzle

EU personnel train with the Djiboutian Coast Guard, but who does one work with in Somalia?
EU personnel train with the Djiboutian Coast Guard, but who does one work with in Somalia?

An onshore solution to Somali piracy has been, at least rhetorically, a focus of the international community since the crime wave reached crisis-level proportions in 2008. While significant progress has been made in developing the maritime security capacity of regional states, Somalia itself remains largely sidelined. Multilateral initiatives such as the Djibouti Code of Conduct and a UN trust fund for Somalia have solicited funds and policy prescriptions for a Somali coastguard, but have yet to contribute to a training or procurement program. NATO’s Operation Ocean Shield has conducted training observation and joint exercises with states such as Yemen, Oman and Djibouti, but its engagement with authorities in Somalia remains confined to humanitarian assistance and consultation. The region’s largest capacity building initiative is the European Union’s EUCAP NESTOR, which has provided ongoing coastguard and judicial training to authorities in Djibouti, Kenya and the Seychelles since 2012. Though the mission is mandated to assist in the development of a coastal police force for Somalia, this has not yet been initiated due to Somalia’s fragile political arrangement and unstable security situation.

Security risks, arms embargo restrictions, and the absence of legitimate local partners have prevented national governments from deploying maritime trainers in Somalia. These same factors, however, have carved out a unique niche for private security companies (PSCs) eager to venture where no one else will.

Plenty of Contracts with Little Result

Somalia’s successive transitional federal governments have been the focus of several attempted coastguard projects, all of which have failed to materialize. In 2005, the Transitional Federal Government (TFG) signed a $50-million contract with U.S. security firm Top Cat to hunt for pirate ‘motherships’ and train a Somali coastguard. The U.S. State Department blocked the deployment, however, because it was judged to violate the 1992 arms embargo on Somalia as well as U.S. arms-trafficking regulations. The TFG signed a similar deal with the French PSC Secopex in 2008, but the required funding—assumed to come from the international community—never arrived. A failure to secure international funding also aborted the coastguard procurement plans of Nairobi-based security provider Halliday Finch in 2012.

In late July 2013, the new Somalis Federal Government (SFG) announced that it had signed a deal with Dutch private maritime security provider Atlantic Marine and Offshore Group to establish a coastguard to combat piracy and secure Somalia’s exclusive economic zone. Though no timetable or funding source has been announced, the deal has already provoked a hostile response from the autonomous states of Puntland and Somaliland, who view the contract as an infringement on the sovereignty of their territorial waters.

Started from the Bottom

map-somalia-300x225-ae3cea89fb391ff8ae6e176b0f17dbf3977ffe7b-s6-c30Somaliland and Puntland’s hostility towards a Mogadishu-based coastguard in part stems from the fact that they have already, with external assistance, established their own marine police forces. In 2006, the self-declared state of Somaliland engaged the services of Norwegian PSC Nordic Crisis Management (NCM) to increase safety, security and revenue at the port of Berbera by implementing International Ship and Port Facility Security Code standards. The firm’s contract also involved training Somaliland’s harbor security and marine police forces and consulting on coastguard procurement. The fact that organized piracy did not take root in Somaliland and that NCM was able to complete their five-year contract without serious interruption attests to the success of the project. Private security experts have attributed this feat to the stable funding the project received from the Norwegian government and NCM’s ability to maintain good relations with government and opposition authorities (enabling the contract to survive a change in government in 2010) and to avoid becoming involved in clan/political disputes.

The neighboring autonomous state of Puntland has also engaged several foreign PSCs to help build its maritime security capacity, with a mixed record of gains and setbacks. In 2000, the Puntland government contracted the British PSC Hart Security to help suppress illegal fishing and piracy as well as build up the capacity of the local coastguard. Though it achieved some success in curtailing maritime crime, Hart was forced to withdrawal from Puntland in the face of an internal civil conflict in 2001-2002, a fight in which its own recruits were split by opposing clan loyalties. The company was soon replaced by the Somali-Canadian Coast Guard (SomCan), a locally based outfit with strong ties to the clan of the newly emerged Puntland president, Abdullahi Yusuf. Lacking an external financier, SomCan’s contract was funded through the sale of fishing licenses. This led to clashes between coastguards and fishermen from different clan backgrounds. SomCan’s restrictively close links with a single clan is regarded as the seed of its downfall, as the company’s contract did not survive a change in presidency in 2005.

A much more ambitious project was born in 2010 when the government of Puntland president Abdirahman Mohamud Farole entered a contract with the South Africa-owned PSC Saracen International (later Sterling Corporate Services) to train and procure equipment and vehicles for a large Puntland Marine Police Force (PMPF). Unlike previous initiatives in Puntland, the PMPF was financed by the UAE, allowing it to quickly grow to a force of some 500 marines supported by a fleet of small ships, aircraft, and armored vehicles. After engaging in a number of humanitarian projects, the PMPF commenced security operations in March 2012, disrupting pirate bases across the remote Bari and Bargaal regions. This allowed the government to enter negotiations with local authorities and denied pirates their onshore sanctuary, contributing to a dramatic decline in Puntland-based piracy. In late December 2012, the PMPF succeed rescuing 22 sailors held hostage aboard the MV Iceberg, the only indigenous security force to conduct such an operation.

The PMPF detains a North Korean vessel accused of illegally dumping cement in Somali waters.
The PMPF detains a North Korean vessel accused of illegally dumping cement in Somali waters.

Though operationally successful, the PMPF suffered several political and financial setbacks. The United Nations Somalia and Eritrea Monitoring Group alleged that the force was in violation of the 1992 arms embargo on Somalia because of the vehicles and equipment procured by Saracen/Sterling and the UAE’s failure to disclose its financial support to the UN Security Council. In June 2012, the UAE froze funding for the PMPF, leading to the exit of Sterling Corporate Services and the temporary halt of operations. UAE financing has since resumed, but there are now concerns that the PMPF is becoming entrenched under the personal control of the Farole administration and has been used, on at least one occasion, as tool of political oppression. With the PMPF now at a crossroads, both the EU and UN Monitoring Group have expressed hope that Somalia’s most capable marine police force will be integrated into a Somalia-wide security regime.

Lessons Learned

With donor states and PSCs now announcing renewed commitments to help build a Somali coastguard, several lessons can be gleaned from past failures and successes. First, capacity-building efforts should not take a top-down, Mogadishu-centric approach. All past attempts to do so have failed, and the most recent initiative by Atlantic Marine Offshore Group appears poised to damage fragile relations between the SFG and the country’s autonomous regions. While the SFG does require its own maritime police forces, these should be built up in tandem with support to existing coastguard forces in Somaliland, Puntland, and other federal states. While their operations and areas of responsibility would be autonomous, it is important that federal maritime security programs be coordinated together with a future view towards further integration.

While donor states and PSCs must be careful to balance relations between the SFG and Somalia’s autonomous states, they must also seek to manage or avoid potential conflicts within them. Both Hart and SomCan’s contracts in Puntland were brought down by political impediments and inter-clan conflict. This offers a warning for the PMPF, as the appointment of president Farole’s son as the force’s commander is reportedly a source of factional tension with the region. Somaliland offers a positive lesson, as NCM was able to continue operations despite a change in government because it had made a prior effort to build relations with opposition parties.

Somalia and its regions have a great need for maritime security forces, but are unable to fund their training and provision with minimal government budgets. Several Mogadishu-based coastguard contracts (Top Cat, Secopex, Halliday Finch) have failed to launch because there was no outside party ready to fund their large budgets. An often-tried scheme is to fund coastguard operations through the sale of foreign fishing licenses, but this risks exacerbating political/clan tensions by placing a revenue generating activity under the control of one group at the expense of another. A more stable option, as witnessed by the PMPF in Puntland and NCM in Somaliland, is for an external donor state to fund capacity building projects as part of a larger development/security agenda. It is important that financing remain consistent, however, as there are several past examples of trained coastguards turning to piracy or other criminal activity once their wages disappeared.

Finally, it is imperative that efforts to build up maritime security forces in Somalia are enmeshed in larger peace-building and governance initiatives. NCM’s contract in Somaliland, for example, succeeded not only in repelling pirates, but also in increasing revenue and trade at the port of Berbera. The PMPF was able to deliver humanitarian assistance to remote regions that had been largely inaccessible to the central government.

There is no shortage of donor states (the UAE, UK, Norway ,and Japan in particular) and international organizations (the EU, NATO, IMO, and Djibouti Code of Conduct) with a pronounced willingness to help develop Somalia’s coastguard capacity. Though national coastguard or naval trainers are unlikely to set foot in Somalia, PSCs have demonstrated their eagerness to accept adequate compensation for this inherent risk. As new capacity-building efforts commence in Somalia, they will not be entering the anarchic wasteland that the country is often portrayed to be. Pockets of onshore and littoral security have already emerged in Somaliland and Puntland and can be further strengthened by coordinated international effort. The challenge will be greater, but not insurmountable, in areas where pirate authority still holds sway, such as Hobyo and Haradhere, and in the politically contested southern port of Kismayo.

With Somalia’s pirate gangs on the back foot, the time to solidify these gains is now. International organizations, donor states, PSCs, and local authorities must work together to ensure that legitimate coastguards, not pirates calling themselves such, are left in control of Somalia’s waters.

James M. Bridger is Maritime Security Consultant and piracy specialist with Delex Systems Inc. The opinions and views expressed in this post are his alone and are presented in his personal capacity.  

Fostering the Discussion on Securing the Seas.