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2 - Pilster Et Al - The Differentiation of Security Forces and The Onset of Genocidal Violence
2 - Pilster Et Al - The Differentiation of Security Forces and The Onset of Genocidal Violence
Abstract
Which factors drive the onset of genocidal violence? While the previous literature
identified several important influences, states’ military capabilities for conducting
mass-killings and the structure of their security forces have received surprisingly lit-
tle attention so far. The authors take this shortcoming as a motivation for their
research. A theoretical framework is developed, which argues that more differen-
tiated security forces, that is, forces that are composed of a higher number of inde-
pendent paramilitary and military organizations, are likely to act as a restraint factor
in the process leading to state-sponsored mass-killings. Quantitative analyses sup-
port the argument for a sample of state-failure years for 1971–2003, and it is also
shown that considering a state’s security force structure improves our ability to
forecast genocides.
Keywords
civil–military relations, counterinsurgency, genocide, security force structure
1
University of Essex, Colchester, UK
2
ETH Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland
3
Kobe University, Kobe, Japan
Corresponding Author:
Tobias Böhmelt, Department of Government, University of Essex, Wivenhoe Park, Colchester CO4
3SQ, UK.
Email: tbohmelt@essex.ac.uk
Introduction
Does the way in which states organize their security forces affect the outbreak of
genocidal violence? In this article, we seek to demonstrate that more differentiated
security forces, that is, forces that are comprised of a higher number of different
law-enforcement paramilitary and regular military organizations, act as a factor of
restraint in the process leading to state-sponsored mass-killings. We treat mass-
killings as a strategy of collective targeting that aims at destroying an insurgency’s
organizational infrastructure by eliminating those segments of a country’s popula-
tion, which may form the insurgency’s support base. Genocide is thus typically
employed as a means of last resort by those states that face an insurgent threat suffi-
ciently severe to threaten the leadership’s political survival or a country’s territorial
integrity. Strong insurgencies arise when the armed opposition faces weak local
police forces in its early stages, and armed forces using indiscriminate violence in
its later stages. More differentiated security forces, in turn, offer political leaders
a selection of coercive instruments that may overcome the weakness of both local
police and armed forces. Having more differentiated security forces may therefore
prevent a situation in which a country’s political and military leadership considers
the collective targeting of civilians as the last remaining means.
A review of the literature on the onset of genocide reveals that states’ military
structures have received little attention so far.1 Krain, for instance, explains the onset
of genocides by the concentration of political power, war involvement, extra-
constitutional changes, decolonization, and ethnic fractionalization.2 Similarly,
Harff3 focuses on regime type, ruling elites’ ideological orientation and their ethni-
city, political upheaval, prior genocides, and trade openness as predictors for the
onset of state-sponsored mass-killings during state-failure years, which ‘‘pertain
to abrupt change[s] in the political community caused by the formation of a state
or regime through violent conflict, redrawing of state boundaries, or defeat in inter-
national war.’’4 Other studies, for example, Rummel,5 Valentino, Huth, and Balch-
Lindsay,6 and Wayman and Tago,7 also offer important insights into the drivers of
genocidal violence, but all this work neglects governments’ security forces and their
structure. Yet, given the importance of security force structure for the means of
violence, this shortcoming is somewhat puzzling. For instance, force structure is a
crucial element of force employment, which directly affects how military organiza-
tions perform.8 Evidently, this may also affect how military organizations fight
interstate and intrastate wars, and thus whether genocidal violence is employed as
means to an end.
To the best of our knowledge, Colaresi and Carey9 provide the only exception
here. They demonstrate that larger security forces are more likely to lead to mass-
killings during state-failure years (i.e., those countries that have suffered political
upheaval) when countries are governed by unconstrained executives, while they
decrease the risk of genocides when failed states have institutionalized constraints
on the decision-making powers of chief executives. We believe that Colaresi and
Carey’s work constitutes an important step forward for a better understanding of the
impact of military characteristics on mass-killings. That said, it seems that another
key aspect of the structure of a state’s security forces, their differentiation, has so far
not received sufficient scholarly attention in the study of genocide.
By seeking to thoroughly address our research question theoretically and empiri-
cally, we also make a variety of broader contributions to the literature on repertoires
of violence in human conflict. First, we add to a growing body of research that
demonstrates how aspects of a country’s security force structure determine the
amount and type of violence, which these security organizations can generate.10
Security forces’ organizational features such as patterns of discipline, recruitment,
or leadership have mainly been used previously to explain opportunistic violence
by ordinary combatants. This body of literature has often been contrasted with a sec-
ond strand of research that emphasizes that violence is strategically employed by
political and military leaders.11 We combine these two strands and build a theory
based on how the organizational features of armed groups determine the strategic
choices of political leaders. Second, regime insecurity resulting from insurgencies
has been suggested as a central cause of genocidal violence.12 This literature, how-
ever, largely neglects an insight made by Morris Janowitz more than three decades
ago: Janowitz hypothesized that the differentiation of security forces, in the form of
an expansion of paramilitary organizations, is one of the central factors behind
regime consolidation in developing countries.13 As a result, we examine whether this
applies to the case of genocidal violence in failed states.
The article proceeds as follows: the next sections develop our theoretical argu-
ment contending that states with more differentiated regular security forces, that
is, forces that are composed of a higher number of different law-enforcement para-
military and regular military organizations, have a lower risk of engaging in geno-
cidal violence. We contend that differentiated security forces act as a factor of
restraint in the process leading to state-sponsored mass-killings. After the theoretical
considerations, we outline our research design, which is followed by the empirical
test of our argument. The quantitative analysis, using data of a sample of state-
failure years between 1971 and 2003, supports our claims and also shows that con-
sidering a state’s security force structure improves our ability to forecast the onset of
state-sponsored mass-killings. The final section concludes with a comprehensive
discussion of our findings, policy implications, and avenues for further research.
sustained armed struggle. It is at this stage that the local police would be the best-
suited institution to use its intimate knowledge of the communities in their jurisdic-
tion to employ law enforcement measures against aspiring insurgencies.29
Nevertheless, local police forces in many underdeveloped nations, including
failed states that we focus on empirically below, are usually unable to quell these
‘‘proto-insurgencies.’’ They often do not have access to those ethnically or socially
marginalized sections of the population that are most likely to support an insurgent
movement.30 Local Indian constables in the 1980s have been described as ‘‘the
object of public hostility because of [ . . . ] corruption and communal bias;’’ more-
over, local police forces may also directly collude with the insurgents, as was the
case in the Indian state of Punjab in the 1980s, where parts of the Sikh-dominated
local police actively sided with Sikh rebels.31 Finally, local police forces often lack
the necessary numbers, equipment, or training to enforce the law and to mass suffi-
cient firepower for confronting insurgents once these begin to maneuver in
strength.32 For instance, the overall strength of the police force in strongly
insurgency-affected Indian states such as Bihar can go down to 60.7 police personnel
per 100,000 inhabitants, which is only about one-quarter of the UN-recommended
strength.33 In a related vain, local police forces in Mumbai, India’s most populous
and prosperous city, had to respond to the 2008 Islamist terrorist attacks with plastic
protectors, World War II era helmets, and 1950s bolt-action rifles.34
As a result, armed forces, which are called in for achieving a direct military solu-
tion to an insurgency, often tend to apply indiscriminate violence against civilians.41
This may be due to an accidental effect of the application of conventional counter-
force measures.42 Indiscriminate violence may also come about opportunistically as
a result of a breakdown of military discipline. Lower-level soldiers could inflict
harm on civilians for their own private benefit and against the military leadership’s
explicit strategic interests. Prolonged deployments of soldiers among potentially
hostile civilians lead to the latter being regarded as ‘‘low-status opponents, who tend
to elicit contempt and disgust.’’43 Although counterexamples do exist, regular sol-
diers in counterinsurgency campaigns may then translate their emotional frustrations
about an enemy indistinguishable from the civilian population into indiscriminate
violence.44
Indiscriminate violence will very likely not degrade and may instead strengthen
an insurgency: according to Leites and Wolff, ‘‘as long as the [insurgents’ civilian]
organization remains intact, the rate of regeneration of [the rebels’] armed forces
[ . . . ] tends towards unity, even for large damage and short time periods.’’45 On
one hand, it may create incentives for the civilian population to join the insurgents
if these are able to provide protection from the armed forces’ indiscriminate vio-
lence in their own base areas or sanctuaries.46 On the other hand, it is particularly
an experience of indiscriminate violence that can also instill a sense of defiance in
the affected civilian population, with the moral outrage about the governments’
actions legitimizing violence and creating further incentives to contribute to the
insurgency.47
Hence, the political and military leadership that decided to deploy armed forces to
militarily defeat an insurgency in the first place is likely to realize at some point that
its actions have been either ineffective or outright counterproductive. The responsi-
ble leaders may then increasingly perceive themselves to be in a domain of losses,
justifying ‘‘brute force realpolitik’’ measures such as mass-killings to ensure their
political survival or the territorial integrity of their country.48 Ultimately, although
counter examples do exist, a country’s leadership may see it as the only remaining
response to escalate and systematize the armed forces’ indiscriminate violence to the
level of the collective targeting and mass-killings. This entails government forces
attempting to destroy the insurgency’s organizational infrastructure by targeting
entire segments of the population suspected to potentially form the insurgency’s sup-
port base.49
we claim that more differentiated security forces can tackle the weaknesses of both
the local police and the national armed forces.
On one hand, security forces structured along paramilitary lines are designed to
overcome the problems local police units usually face in massing sufficient fire-
power against insurgents. The Indian BSFs’ personnel, for example, are fully
trained for combat operations and can operate as a light-infantry unit under army
command in wartime, for example, it participated in combat operations during the
Indian–Pakistani war of 1971.50 In a similar vein, Indian counterinsurgency efforts
also often see parts of the local police force being turned into paramilitary organi-
zations. The provision of training and heavier weaponry through the Indian Army
and the NSG, for instance, turned the Punjab Police into ‘‘an aggressive and mobile
force willing and able to engage the militants,’’ resulting in ‘‘higher militant casu-
alties and greater restrictions on their movements.’’51 Finally, the fact that India’s
paramilitary and armed forces are organized at the federal level prevents them
from facing the same problems of community bias or collusion with local criminals
and insurgents as local police forces do. Minority communities in various Indian
states, such as Muslims in Uttar Pradesh, Hindus in Punjab, or Sikhs in Haryana,
welcomed the intervention of federal paramilitary forces for this very reason in the
past.52
On the other hand, independent paramilitary and military organizations besides
the army can also develop different force structures and routines to better target the
insurgency’s civilian infrastructure and avoid the application of indiscriminate and
genocidal violence. Indian BSF personnel, for instance, while fully prepared for ser-
ving as light-infantry units, are also trained in various law enforcement procedures.53
Likewise, the Indian Army’s RR adopted their assignment policies to their counter-
insurgency duties, in that ‘‘while RR troops rotate in and out of a unit, the battalions
themselves [ . . . ] are permanently deployed in their areas of operation [ . . . ], which
provides them with a continuity and familiarity with an area that is sorely missed by
regular army units.’’54 The RRs are also specifically trained for prolonged deploy-
ments among civilian populations in Jammu and Kashmir in order to avoid break-
downs of discipline and opportunistic violence. Finally, the NSG was created
under the Ministry of Home Affairs in the 1980s as a reaction to the Indian Army’s
botched attempt to clear the Golden Temple in the state of Punjab of Sikh insurgents,
which resulted in several hundreds to thousands of civilian deaths. The NSG’s equip-
ment and training have specifically focused on selectively applying violence (even
in the form of unarmed combat), rather than the massive application of firepower
against an enemy concealed in the terrain.55
Eventually, our argument suggests that the political and military leadership in
those countries that are disposed of differentiated coercive instruments may avoid
calling in conventionally oriented armed forces against an insurgency in the first
place or the escalation of indiscriminate violence to the level of mass-killings by
complementing the army’s firepower with organizations more adept at (selectively)
targeting an insurgency’s civilian infrastructure. Our theoretical argument then gives
rise to the following hypothesis: countries with a more differentiated security force
structure have a lower risk of engaging in genocidal violence.
Research Design
Data Structure and Dependent Variable
In order to test our hypothesis, we rely on Colaresi and Carey’s version of Harff’s
data on the onset of genocidal violence in state-failure years from 1955 to 2003.56
Following Harff, ‘‘state failures pertain to abrupt change[s] in the political commu-
nity caused by the formation of a state or regime through violent conflict, redrawing
of state boundaries, or defeat in international war.’’57 Identical to our approach, these
data define genocide as an ‘‘event that leads to the promotion, execution, and/or
implied consent of sustained policies by governing elites or their agents—or, in the
case of civil war, either of the contending authorities—that are intended to destroy,
in whole or part, a communal, political, or politicized ethnic group.’’58 The final data
employ the failed state-year as the unit of analysis and include twenty-three onsets of
genocide between 1971 and 2003 (the time period is determined by the limited data
availability for our core explanatory variable).59
where sjit is the personnel share of the ground-combat compatible military or para-
military organizations j in country i in year t. A value of 1 consequently stands for
only one effective ground-combat military organization, while higher values signify
that various military and paramilitary organizations do exist. In our empirical anal-
ysis, we use Pilster and Böhmelt’s extended data until 2003 and lag the variable by
one year.
Control Variables
We also consider several covariates that are identified as likely determinants for the
onset of genocidal violence in previous studies. Here, we largely follow Colaresi and
Carey.63 First, there is the Strength of the Security Forces, which has been originally
employed by Colaresi and Carey, but is distinct from our core measure Structure of
the Security Forces. The former captures the number of governmental paramilitary
and military personnel divided by the natural log of population. Consequently,
higher values of this variable pertain to more military personal per capita, which,
as indicated, is distinct from our variable of interest, though. We impute missing val-
ues of this item in 2003 with data from 2002 and consider it as a control in our model.
Second, we also include Executive Constraints that measures ‘‘the extent of insti-
tutionalized constraints on the decision-making powers of chief executives, whether
individuals or collectives.’’64 Following Colaresi and Carey,65 we use a dichoto-
mous indicator, where the value of 0 pertains to an unconstrained executive and the
value of 1 signifies a constrained executive. We also include a multiplicative term of
this item and the previous variable in order to capture the interactive nature Colaresi
and Carey argue for.
Third, government behavior patterns toward genocide might have changed sub-
stantially since the end of the Cold War. While Finnemore66 discusses the theme
more broadly from an interventionist perspective, it can be derived that third parties
are much more willing to intervene in countries due to humanitarian reasons—and
not solely due to realpolitik any longer.67 This might decrease states’ incentives to rely
on genocidal violence ex ante. We control for this possibility via a binary variable
receiving the value of 1 for the post-1989 period.
Fourth, Bueno de Mesquita and Siverson demonstrate that losing wars can dele-
gitimize a state and necessitate increased repression.68 This, in turn, might increase
the risk of genocide. Colaresi and Carey further emphasize that ‘‘[t]he loss might
also embolden opposition, which would increase the threat to the regime.’’69 We
incorporate a binary item (War Loser) having a value of 1 if a country lost a war
in the previous year (0 otherwise).
Fifth, ethnic cleavages may be instrumentalized for support for genocidal plans of
a government. For instance, ethnic-group divisions may relate to any predisposition
to genocide and a state’s security forces are unlikely to engage in genocide in the
absence of significant popular support. Moreover, in many case of genocide, groups
from the offending ethnic segment engage in genocidal behavior alongside security
forces.70 Finally, ethnic minorities are frequently accused for economic and social
problems, making these groups vulnerable of violent governments.71 We use the eth-
nic fractionalization variable from Colaresi and Carey’s data to control for this
possibility.
Sixth, Harff argues that the more links a country has to the world economy, the
lower the likelihood of genocide.72 Put differently, states that have extensive trade
ties to other countries are less at risk of genocide than those at the periphery. Accord-
ingly, we take the natural log of a country’s total trade (exports plus imports) to
quantify these ties. The data on trade have been compiled by Gleditsch.73
Seventh, controlling for population (log) ensures that the security force measure
is not a proxy for population size. The logic is simple here: larger countries may be
more likely to commit genocides because fewer members of the international com-
munity will be able to stop them. As in the case of the trade variable, we take the data
from Gleditsch.
Eight, we include the democracy score of a country to test whether executive con-
straints only have an indirect effect on genocide, that is, through other democratic
institutions.74 If this was the case, the roots of accountability and stability may lie
somewhere else in the constellation of democratic institutions, but not explicitly
in the constraints of the executive as operationalized earlier. The data come from the
Polity IV project.75
Ninth, Colaresi and Carey consider the magnitude of the previous fifteen years of
genocide. This variable is a moving average measure that Harff found to be a signif-
icant predictor of political mass-killings. The data have been originally compiled by
Harff.76
Finally, we consider the count variable State Failure Years, that is, the time since
the beginning of state failure. The propensity of state failures to erupt into genocides
is likely to follow a potentially nonlinear trend as a state failure unfolds. We, there-
fore, also include the square term of this variable in our analyses. Note that these
measures additionally control for any temporal dependencies. Table 1 summarizes
the descriptive statistics of our variables discussed so far.
Empirical Results
Probit Models
We start our empirical analysis with three multivariate probit regression models. To
this end, first, we focus on our core explanatory item and exclude all controls apart
from the variables for temporal correction. We then include the Cold War dummy
and those controls that are employed as core explanatory factors in Colaresi and
Carey. Third, the final model estimation considers all discussed explanatory factors
as drivers of the onset of genocidal violence. Instead of probit coefficients, we pres-
ent simulated first difference estimates.77 A first difference is the change in the prob-
ability that Genocidal Violence ¼ 1 associated with a change from the minimum to
Note: Operationalization, data sources, and scales of all variables are described in the main text. N pertains
to the number of observations, mean signifies the micrometer of the values divided by the number of val-
ues, SD stands for standard deviation, min is the minimum value of a variable, while max pertains to its
maximum value.
the maximum value of a variable in question while holding all other covariates at
their median. Table 2 presents our findings.
Before coming to our main explanatory variable, we discuss the control covari-
ates in models 2 and 3. First, the significance level and direction of the estimate
of the interaction between Strength of the Security Forces and Executive Constraints
are largely in line with Colaresi and Carey: larger security forces decrease the like-
lihood of genocide onset, given that executive constraints do exist. Second, Cold
War is essentially the only control covariate that exerts a substantive impact on
the onset of genocidal violence. In line with our expectations, the probability of the
occurrence of a genocide decreases by eight percentage points with the end of the
Cold War. The remaining control variables are statistically insignificant, making
it unlikely that they exert a crucial influence on genocides. This corresponds to the
findings in Colaresi and Carey.
With regard to our theoretical argument and, hence, the core explanatory vari-
able, Table 2 confirms that the more differentiated the structure of the security forces
in a state, the less likely is the onset of genocidal violence. The results in Table 2 are
statistically significant and highlight that the risk of genocidal violence generally
decreases on average by about five percentage points when moving from the mini-
mum toward the maximum of Structure of the Security Forces. This finding holds
over a wide range of model specifications; adding or suppressing terms from any
model does not affect its substance.
Table 2. Probit Model Regression Results for the Impact of Structure of the Security Forces on
the Onset of Genocidal Violence (Dependent Variable), 1971–2003.
I 2 3
1.00
0.75
True Positive Rate
0.50
0.25
Figure 1. In-sample prediction: area under receiver operator characteristic (ROC) curve
for full sample (model 3). Plot shows in-sample predictive power for model 3 in the form
of a ROC plot. Models with more predictive power have a higher true-positives rate at the
expense of a lower false-positive rate (cases of genocidal violence our model would predict
although they did not happen). The area under ROC curve (total area under curve [AUC])
statistic theoretically varies between 0.5 (no predictive power) and 1.0 (perfect predictive
power).
In order to address this point, we try to assess the ability of our full model and our
core explanatory variable to actually predict genocidal violence. To this end, we use
in-sample and out-of-sample prediction techniques.79
Figure 1 sheds light on the actual in-sample predictive power of model 3. Here,
we show a Receiver Operator Characteristic (ROC) graph that plots true positives
(cases of genocidal violence our model predicts correctly) against false positives
(cases of genocidal violence our model would predict although they did not happen).
Generally, models with more predictive power generate ‘‘‘true positives at the
expense of fewer false positives.’’80 As a result, a perfectly predictive model would
correctly classify all actual cases of genocidal violence and never generate false
positives. While we can reject the notion that our model perfectly predicts geno-
cides, it does have a higher predicted probability for a randomly chosen positive
event than for a randomly chosen nonevent. This is mirrored by the area under ROC
curve (AUC) statistic, which theoretically varies between 0.5 (no predictive power)
and 1.0 (perfect predictive power). The highest predictive power is given by the full
model (model 3: 0.82).
That being said, the question remains whether this conclusion holds when
employing the harder test of an out-of-sample prediction. Moreover, demonstrating
that an entire model or its alternative specifications perform above the AUC level of
0.5 does not allow drawing firm conclusions on the predictive power of a single cov-
ariate therein. We thus use a fourfold cross-validation quasi-experimental setup that
was repeated ten times as an out-of-sample prediction exercise.81 In short, cross-
validation relies on dividing existing data into subsets, using random assignment
of the cases to the different sets. All except one of the subsets are then pooled
together and routinely estimated by applying the preferred model specification. The
remaining subset, called the ‘‘test set,’’82 subsequently serves to assess the predictive
power of the model (as measured by the AUC statistic) estimated on the pooled sub-
sets—in our case, either the full model or a model that omits Structure of the Security
Forces from the estimation. In order to employ a fourfold cross-validation exercise
that we repeated ten times for these two scenarios, we randomly divided our sample
into four equally sized subsets, pooled three in order to ‘‘train the model’’ (i.e., to
estimate the coefficients and parameters of interest), and kept one as the test set.
After this exercise, we assessed the out-of-sample predictive power of the full model
and a model that omits Structure of the Security Forces from the estimation. We
repeated this procedure four times for ten different partitions of the sample for each
scenario (either the full model or a model that omits Structure of the Security Forces
from the estimation). Finally, we calculated the average AUC across the ten
repetitions.
Figure 2 depicts our findings in this context. As one would expect, the predictive
power either of the full model or the constrained model where we discard our core
explanatory item decreases as compared to the in-sample prediction value from
earlier (0.82). Nevertheless, the power of the full model remains reasonably high
(AUC ¼ 0.71; left panel). More importantly, the average AUC of the estimations
without Structure of the Security Forces is at 0.65, which is considerably lower than
the AUC of the out-of-sample prediction for the full model. This holds even in com-
parison to the unreported values of the other explanatory variables. Hence, the pre-
dictive power of Structure of the Security Forces is given (even) when conducting
the out-of-sample prediction.
Robustness Checks
We conducted several checks to ensure that our results are not undermined by viola-
tions of the model assumptions or driven by particularities of the data. First, we cal-
culated the variance inflation factors for the explanatory variables of the multivariate
models 2 and 3 in order to examine in how far multicollinearity influences the
precision of our estimates. The estimates show, however, that our core explanatory
variable is largely not collinear with other items.
Second, Clarke demonstrates that the inclusion of control variables may actually
increase the bias instead of decreasing it. In addition, some of the controls, especially
0.80 0.80
Total Area under Curve
0.72 0.72
0.68 0.68
0.64 0.64
0.60 0.60
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10
Cycle Run - Full Sample Cycle Run - Structure of the Security Forces
Figure 2. Out of sample prediction: four-way cross-validation exercise. Left panel pertains to
estimates of area under receiver operator characteristic (ROC) curve (area under curve
[AUC]) statistics for full sample (model 3); right panel pertains to estimates of AUC for model
that omits the item Structure of the Security Forces; four-way cross-validation estimates for each
round (cycle run: N ¼ 10 different random partitions of the data) are shown by dots; dashed
horizontal line signifies mean estimate AUC over all four-way cross-validations that were
repeated for ten different random partitions of the data.
the variable Strength of the Security Forces, might undercut the substance of Struc-
ture of the Security Forces.83 However, model 1 does not include the controls and
the core result remains virtually unchanged.
Third, as outlined previously, we imputed the values of Colaresi and Carey’s
Strength of the Security Forces in 2003 in order to address a missing data problem.
The underlying assumption for this approach is that the values of this variable (but
no other variable as we have data for these) remained unchanged since 2002. In order
to deal with potential concerns in this regard, we estimated all models again for the
time period 1971–2002, thus omitting the imputed values of 2003. Nevertheless, this
does also not affect our findings.
Fourth, Table 1 demonstrates that a rare-event process generates genocides. More
specifically, only 4 percent of the 735 observations actually see the onset of geno-
cidal violence. By following King and Zeng,84 we corrected the intercept estimate
via a rare-events logistic regression model. Similarly to our above-mentioned probit
models, though, the findings show that Structure of the Security Forces still exerts a
substantial negative impact on genocides.
Fifth, one might object to the onset variable we took from Colaresi and Carey that
its definition of genocidal violence might be too narrow, thus omitting other
instances that saw state-sponsored mass-killing, but are omitted from our analysis.
Ulfelder and Valentino85 define genocide in a broader sense, that is, ‘‘as any event
in which the actions of state agents result in the intentional death of at least 1,000
Table 3. Heckman Probit Selection Model Regression Results for the Impact of Structure
of the Security Forces on the Onset of Genocidal Violence (Dependent Variable in Genocide
Outcome Equation), 1971–2003.
4 5
Note: For the selection equation in both models, the dependent variable is I for state failure, 0 for no state
failure. Table entries are coefficients; robust standard errors clustered on country in parentheses; vari-
ables for temporal correction included in first equation (model 4) and both equations (model 5), but
omitted from table; r parameter signifies correlation between two equations’ errors.
*Significant at 10 percent. **Significant at 5 percent. ***Significant at 1 percent (two-tailed).
5 in Table 3), while including our core explanatory variable. Note that the underlying
sample for both models is no longer the state-failure year, but a country-year, that is,
we now consider all states in the international system in 1971–2003. In addition, the
dependent variable in the outcome equation is the onset of genocidal violence (the
dependent variable we used in Table 2), while the dependent variable in the selection
equation captures whether state failure occurred (1) or not (0). As demonstrated in
Table 3, the results are essentially unaffected by this change in the research design.
Specifically, our core variable Structure of the Security Forces still exerts a statisti-
cally significant and negative impact on the risk of genocidal violence. Also note
that we are able to accurately model the first stage of state-failure onset, given the
various statistically significant estimates for the explanatory variables in the selec-
tion equation. Finally, our estimate for the r parameter is positive in model 4, but
negative in model 5, and only significant in the latter estimation. Given model 5, this
may suggest that unobserved features that increase the likelihood of selection (i.e.,
state failure) also increase the probability of genocide onset; however, we cannot
claim with confidence that selection is an issue beyond our sample in light of the
findings in model 4 (i.e., the insignificant r parameter estimate). Due to this, we
focused on the regular probit models as presented in Table 2.
Conclusion
This article has sought to demonstrate that the structure of a country’s security forces is
likely to have an impact on the risk of genocidal violence. We developed a theory argu-
ing that the structure of the security forces, if composed of a higher number of indepen-
dent paramilitary and regular military organizations, can act as a factor of restraint in the
process leading to state-sponsored mass-killings. The robust empirical support for our
theory not only strengthens the claim that a country’s security force structure has indeed
been an overlooked factor but also increases our confidence in that it is a crucial expla-
natory factor for predicting and forecasting the onset of genocides.
From a scholarly perspective, our research builds on the literature on the determi-
nants and forecasting of genocides87 and provides one of the first theoretical frame-
works on the relationship between genocidal violence and a state’s security force
structure. We thus contribute to the research on security-force structures,88 civil–
military relations,89 and counterinsurgency.90 Our theoretical argument and empiri-
cal tests also support Janowitz’s seminal argument of how the differentiation of a
state’s security forces contributes to regime security and consolidation.91
This article may furthermore have some practical implications. For example, over
the past decade, the international community has been engaged in various efforts to
build new security forces ‘‘from the scratch’’ in places such as Afghanistan or Iraq92
and to reform existing security forces.93 Take the case of Afghanistan, where there
have been intense discussions of the pros and cons of the creation of national police
forces along paramilitary lines in addition to the national armed forces and local
police.94 Knowing in advance what implications the structure of the security forces
Acknowledgment
We thank Neil Mitchell, three anonymous reviewers, and the journal’s editor, Patricia
M. Shields, for helpful suggestions that improved this article.
Authors’ Note
A version of this article has been presented at the Conference ‘‘Advancing the Scientific Study
of Conflict and Cooperation: Alternative Perspectives from the UK and Japan’’ (University of
Essex, UK, March 20-21, 2012).
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/
or publication of this article: the authors gratefully acknowledge financial support for the research
of this article by the Suntory Foundation and the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science.
Notes
1. Scott Strauss, ‘‘Retreating from the Brink: Theorizing Mass Violence and the Dynamics
of Restraint,’’ Perspectives on Politics 10, 2 (2012): 343-62. Note that we use the terms
genocide, politicide, and (state-sponsored) mass-killing interchangeably.
2. Matthew Krain, ‘‘State-sponsored Mass Murder: The Onset and Severity of Genocides
and Politicides,’’ Journal of Conflict Resolution 41, 3 (1997): 331-60.
3. Barbara Harff, ‘‘No Lessons Learned from the Holocaust? Assessing Risks of Genocide
and Political Mass Murder since 1955,’’ American Political Science Review 91, 1 (2003):
57-73.
4. Ibid.
5. Rudolph Rummel, Statistics of Democide: Genocide and Mass Murder since 1900
(Munster, Germany: Lit Verlag, 1998).
6. Benjamin Valentino, Paul Huth, and Dylan Balch-Lindsay, ‘‘‘Draining the Sea:’ Mass-
killing and Guerrilla Warfare,’’ International Organization 58, 2 (2004): 375-407.
7. Frank Wayman and Atsushi Tago, ‘‘Explaining the Onset of Mass-killing, 1949-87,’’
Journal of Peace Research 47, 1 (2010): 3-13.
8. Jason Lyall and Isaiah Wilson, ‘‘Rage against the Machines: Explaining Outcomes in
Counterinsurgency Wars,’’ International Organization 63, 1 (2009): 67-106.
9. Michael Colaresi and Sabine Carey, ‘‘To Kill or to Protect—Security Forces, Domestic
Institutions, and Genocide,’’ Journal of Conflict Resolution 52, 1 (2008): 39-67.
10. Stephen P. Cohen, The Pakistan Army (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984);
Ivan Arreguin-Toft, ‘‘How the Weak Win Wars: A Theory of Asymmetric Conflict,’’
International Security 26, 1 (2001): 93-128; Lyall and Wilson, ‘‘Rage against the
Machines,’’ 2009; Todd S. Sechser and Elizabeth N. Saunders, ‘‘The Army You Have:
The Determinants of Military Mechanization, 1979-2001,’’ International Studies Quar-
terly 54, 2 (2010): 481-511; Jeffrey A. Friedman, ‘‘Manpower and Counterinsurgency:
Empirical Foundations for Theory and Doctrine,’’ Security Studies 20, 4 (2011): 556-91.
11. Devorah Manekin, ‘‘Violence against Civilians in the Second Intifada: The Moderating
Effect of Armed Group Structure on Opportunistic Violence,’’ Comparative Political
Studies 46, 10 (2013): 1277-1300.
12. Manus M. Midlarsky, The Killing Trap: Genocide in the Twentieth Century (Cambridge,
UK: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
13. Morris Janowitz, Military Institutions and Coercion in the Developing Nations (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1977).
14. Harff, ‘‘No Lessons Learned from the Holocaust?’’ 58.
15. Abbey Steele, ‘‘Seeking Safety: Displacement and Targeting in Civil Wars,’’ Journal of
Peace Research 46, 3 (2009): 419-30.
16. Note that our differentiation of collective targeting and indiscriminate violence, adopted
from Steele, ‘‘Seeking Safety,’’ 2009, differs from Kalyvas’s original definition of the
term. See Stathis N. Kalyvas and Matthew N. Kocher, ‘‘How Free Is Free-riding in Civil
Wars? Violence, Insurgency, and the Collective Action Problem,’’ World Politics 59, 2
(2007): 187ff.
17. International Institute for Strategic Studies (IISS), The Military Balance (London, UK:
International Institute for Strategic Studies, 2012).
18. Janowitz, Military Institutions and Coercion in the Developing Nations, 28.
19. This treatment of paramilitary forces excludes local defense units (which are usually only
active on a part-time basis) and militias (which are only informally or semiofficially tied
to the political leadership). See Sabine Carey, Neil Mitchell, and Will Lowe, ‘‘States, the
Security Sector, and the Monopoly of Violence—A New Database on Pro-Government
Militias,’’ Journal of Peace Research 50, 2 (2013): 249-58.
20. Krain, ‘‘State-sponsored Mass Murder,’’ 1997; Benjamin Valentino, Final Solutions:
Mass-killing and Genocide in the Twentieth Century (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University
Press, 2004); Valentino, Huth, and Balch-Lindsay, ‘‘‘Draining the Sea’,’’ 2004.
21. Scott Strauss, ‘‘‘Destroy Them to Save Us:’ Theories of Genocide and the Logics of
Political Violence,’’ Terrorism and Political Violence 24, 4 (2012): 544-60; Benjamin
Valentino, ‘‘Final Solution: The Causes of Mass-killing and Genocide,’’ Security Studies
9, 3 (2000): 1-59.
22. Stathis N. Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge
University Press, 2006).
23. Roger Trinquier, Modern Warfare: A French View of Counterinsurgency (New York:
Frederick A. Praeger, 1964), 63-64; David Galula, Counterinsurgency Warfare: Theory
and Practice (Westport, CT: Praeger Security International, 1964), 50; Valentino, ‘‘Final
Solution: The Causes of Mass-killing and Genocide,’’ 47-48; Arreguin-Toft, ‘‘How the
Weak Win Wars,’’ 103-104; Elizabeth J. Wood, Insurgent Collective Action and Civil
War in El Salvador (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 122-124;
Valentino, Huth, and Balch-Lindsay, ‘‘‘Draining the Sea’,’’ 383-384. Note that rebels
mainly dependent on economic resources (e.g., by access to natural resource wealth or
a foreign sponsor) depend significantly less on the civilian population for their survival
and may hence not be fully covered by our theoretical argument. See Jeremy Weinstein,
Inside Rebellion: The Politics of Insurgent Violence (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge Uni-
versity Press, 2007).
24. Janowitz, Military Institutions and Coercion in the Developing Nations, 45.
25. Deborah D. Avant, ‘‘The Institutional Sources of Military Doctrine: Hegemons in Periph-
eral Wars,’’ International Studies Quarterly 37, 4 (1993): 409-30.
26. Jason Seawright and John Gerring, ‘‘Case Selection Techniques in Case Study Research:
A Menu of Qualitative and Quantitative Options,’’ Political Research Quarterly 61, 2
(2008): 299f.
27. Harff, ‘‘No Lessons Learned from the Holocaust?’’ 58.
28. Harff, ‘‘No Lessons Learned from the Holocaust?’’ 2003, codes the following genocides and
politicides in South Asia between 1970 and 2003: Afghanistan, 1978-1992; Pakistan, 1971 and
1973-1977; Burma, 1978; and Sri Lanka, 1989–1990. Similar to India, most of these countries
faced a whole range of battle fronts and opponents despite the perhaps common perspective
that genocide seems to be more likely in the case of being directed at a ‘‘united enemy.’’
29. Galula, Counterinsurgency Warfare, 1964; Daniel Byman, Understanding Proto-
insurgencies (RAND Counterinsurgency Study Paper 3. Santa Monica, CA: RAND
Corporation, 2007); Jospeh Celeski, Policing and Law Enforcement in COIN—The Thick
Blue Line (Hurlburt Field, FL: Joint Special Operations University, 2009).
30. Celeski, Policing and Law Enforcement in COIN, 2009; P. K. Mallick, ‘‘Role of the
Armed Forces in Internal Security: Time for Review,’’ Center for Land Warfare Studies
Journal 1, 2 (2007): 68-90.
31. Douglas C. Makeig, ‘‘Aid-to-civil:’’ Indian Army and Paramilitary Involvement in Domestic
Peacekeeping (Washington, DC: Federal Research Division, Library of Congress, 1984), 16.
32. Celeski, Policing and Law Enforcement in COIN, 5-6.
33. Jennifer L. Oetken, ‘‘Counterinsurgency against Naxalites in India,’’ in India and Coun-
terinsurgency: Lessons Learned, ed. Sumit Ganguly and David P. Fidler (London, UK:
Routledge, 2009), 147; Mallick, ‘‘Role of the Armed Forces in Internal Security,’’ 82.
34. Angel Rabasa et al., The Lessons of Mumbai (Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation,
2009), 10-11.
35. Celeski, Policing and Law Enforcement in COIN, 2009; Theo Farrell, ‘‘World Culture
and Military Power,’’ Security Studies 14, 3 (2005): 448-88.
36. John J. Mearsheimer, Conventional Deterrence (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press,
1983).
37. Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War, 2006; Lyall and Wilson, ‘‘Rage against the
Machines,’’ 2009.
38. Stephen Biddle, Military Power: Explaining Victory and Defeat in Modern Battle
(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2004).
39. Michael T. Flynn, Matt Pottinger, and Paul D. Batchelor, Fixing Intel: A Blueprint for
Making Intelligence Relevant in Afghanistan (Washington, DC: Center for a New Amer-
ican Security, 2010).
40. Morris Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in
Comparative Analysis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964).
41. Nathan Leites and Charles Wolf, Jr., Rebellion and Authority: An Analytic Essay on
Insurgent Conflicts (Santa Monica, CA: RAND Corporation, 1970); Jason Lyall, ‘‘Does
Indiscriminate Violence Incite Insurgent Attacks? Evidence from Chechnya,’’ Journal of
Conflict Resolution 53, 3 (2009): 331-62; Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War,
2006; Arreguin-Toft, ‘‘How the Weak Win Wars,’’ 2001.
42. Lyall, ‘‘Does Indiscriminate Violence Incite Insurgent Attacks?’’ 342-344.
43. Manekin, ‘‘Violence against Civilians in the Second Intifada,’’ 1278; Macartan
Humphreys and Jeremy Weinstein, ‘‘Handling and Manhandling Civilians in Civil War,’’
American Political Science Review 100, 3 (2006): 429-47.
44. Leites and Wolf, Rebellion and Authority, 90-92.
45. Leites and Wolf, Rebellion and Authority, 90ff; Edward N. Muller and Erich Weede, ‘‘Cross-
national Variation in Political Violence: A Rational Action Approach,’’ Journal of Conflict
Resolution 34, 4 (1990): 624-51; Arreguin-Toft, ‘‘How the Weak Win Wars,’’ 2001.
46. T. David Mason and Dale A. Krane, ‘‘The Political Economy of Death Squads: Toward a
Theory of the Impact of State-sanctioned Terror,’’ International Studies Quarterly 33, 2
(1989): 175-98; Kalyvas and Kocher, ‘‘How Free Is Free-riding in Civil Wars?’’ 2007;
Kalyvas, The Logic of Violence in Civil War, 2006; Matthew Kocher, Tom Pepinsky, and
Author Biographies
Ulrich Pilster, PhD, is a research fellow at the Department of Government at the
University of Essex, UK. His main research and teaching interests are military and
security issues broadly defined, military alliances, international security organiza-
tions, and quantitative methods.
Tobias Böhmelt, PhD, is a lecturer at the Department of Government at the Univer-
sity of Essex, UK. He is also a research associate of the Center for Comparative and
International Studies (CIS) as well as the Institute for Environmental Decisions (IED),
which are based at the ETH Zurich, Switzerland. His main research and teaching inter-
ests are the quantitative analysis of conflict and cooperation, environmental politics,
international mediation, military effectiveness, and social network analysis.
Atsushi Tago, PhD, University of Tokyo, is an associate professor at Kobe Univer-
sity, Japan. In his research and teaching, he focuses on multilateralism in US security
policy and collective legitimization of the use of force.