Challenging civil society perceptions of NATO: Engaging the Women,Peace and Security agenda

Introduction

Feminist antimilitarists in a host of countries and contexts are struggling with the contradictions inherent in UN Security Council Resolution 1325 of 31 October 2000 on Women, Peace and Security. It was ‘our’ achievement. It was ‘our’ project and ‘our’ success. Yet the more energetically we push for its implementation, the more we see its limitations. Worse, we realize how it can be used for ends quite contrary to those we intended. In this respect, NATO is a thought-provoking case. No . . . more than that, it’s an enraging example of how good feminist work can be manipulated by a patriarchal and militarist institution. (Cockburn, 2011)

Over a decade on from feminist activist and scholar Cynthia Cockburn’s outrage at NATO’s engagement with the Women, Peace and Security (WPS) agenda a lot has changed. Not only is NATO now recognised as a WPS actor in its own right, but (feminist) civil society are actively engaging with NATO on its WPS commitments. The WPS agenda, encapsulated in United Nations (UN) Security Council Resolution (UNSCR) 1325 and the nine follow-up resolutions, emerged from anti-militarist and pacifist civil society activism (Cohn et al., 2004: 131), with a number of prominent civil society advocates of WPS openly opposed to NATO, notably, the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF, 2008). NATO as a political–military alliance could be understood to embody the antipathy of the WPS agenda which early advocates argued was resolutely not about ‘making war safe for women’ (Cook, 2009: 126). NATO’s engagement with WPS has therefore challenged many of the assumptions about its meaning and value and speaks to wider concerns about the militarisation of the WPS agenda (Cockburn, 2013; Kirby and Shepherd, 2016; Manchanda, 2020; Wright et al., 2019). Despite the central role of civil society in advocating for, and supporting, the implementation of the WPS agenda, NATO’s initial policy engagement with WPS in 2007 occurred without consultation with civil society (Wright et al., 2019: 50). Such an approach stood NATO apart from other engagements with WPS at national, regional and international levels (Mundkur and Shepherd, 2018) and is worthy of further interrogation to understand why. While this challenged the foundations of the WPS agenda, from a NATO perspective, this was business as usual given the alliance had never formally consulted civil society in the policy-making process (Mayer, 2008: 118; Williams, 2014: 235). The move in 2014 to establish a formal NATO civil society panel to consult on WPS was therefore a significant change and is pertinent to examine given the NATO Secretary General has committed to ‘reach out to civil society’ as part of his vision for NATO 2030 to future proof the alliance in an ‘increasingly competitive world’ (Stoltenberg, 2020).

This article contributes to the current interest in the value and meaning of the WPS agenda by interrogating civil society perceptions of NATO (Kirby and Shepherd, 2021). This matters because it expands on other studies that have found the militarisation of the WPS agenda despite civil society involvement in policy-making processes (Drumond and Rebelo, 2020), raising questions about the efficacy of civil society engagement with military institutions (Holvikivi, 2019). It considers what has changed to enable NATO to formally consult civil society on its policy making in respect to WPS and the consequences of this for the WPS agenda. In so doing, it contributes to the broad body of largely critical feminist work interrogating the significance of NATO’s engagement with WPS and its role as a gender actor (Wright, 2016, 2019; Wright et al., 2019; Wright and Bergman Rosamond, 2021; Hurley, 2018a, 2018b; Bastick and Duncanson, 2018; Hedling et al, 2022; see also, Hardt and von Hlatky, 2020).

Specifically, this article takes a critical feminist approach to conceptualise NATO as an ‘institution of international hegemonic masculinity’ through the way the alliance invokes the masculinist protection logic in its engagement with WPS and acts as a ‘teaching machine’ shaping the value placed on WPS by NATO members and a growing number of partners (Wright et al., 2019). In this article, I develop this framework through situating civil society within it and, in so doing, contribute something new to understanding how NATO functions through its move to active engagement on the international stage with the WPS agenda. In addition, this framework enables interrogation of how the WPS agenda can become militarised despite civil society engagement. In order to do so, I focus on how civil society engaged in WPS work perceive NATO and, specifically, NATO’s intentions. I seek to understand whether and how NATO’s attempts to engage civil society through the creation of CSAP in 2014 have influenced civil society perceptions of the alliance and in turn whether such engagements have the potential to support transformative understandings of WPS at NATO.

My analysis proceeds as follows. First, I introduce my method and approach drawing on an understanding of NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity. Next, I engage with the concept of civil society and the relationship with the WPS agenda, before moving on to interrogate why NATO has until recently remained an outlier in global governance with its lack of formal policy engagement with civil society. The article then moves to introduce the WPS architecture at NATO and specifically the role of the Secretary General’s Special Representative (SGSR) on WPS in relationship building with civil society on WPS. Next, the article turns to examine the motivations for civil society engagement with NATO, before moving to interrogate the value civil society perceive NATO gains from CSAP. Finally, I examine how encounters with NATO’s bureaucracy and security apparatus shape civil society perceptions of NATO.

NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity: method and approach

NATO is a political-military alliance built on consensus decision-making. Moving beyond its Cold War origins, the alliance’s remit has expanded significantly beyond a sole focus on collective defence to include crisis management and cooperative security. This has seen NATO’s focus enlarge from a regional one to a global one, with recent engagements in Afghanistan, Libya and Kosovo, for example. Its status as a multilateral institution means it is limited by its members’ priorities and therefore sensitive not to implicate NATO or NATO member states in wrongdoing (Hebert, 2012).

In centring NATO as an ‘institution of international hegemonic masculinity’ (Wright et al., 2019), in this analysis, it is possible to shed light on the peculiarities of NATO’s WPS work to date, against which engagement with civil society takes place. This has two co-constituting elements, first, internally, existing gender norms and expectations of masculinity and femininity reflective of a hierarchical military institution are (re)created and (re)enforced through NATO’s engagement with WPS (Wright et al., 2019: 71). For example, men working on WPS at NATO navigate both the trivialisation and the feminisation of such work and must (re)negotiate their own identities. Yet in so doing they reinforce the importance of men speaking to and listening to other men (rather than women) reinforcing the gendered status quo (Wright et al., 2019: 93; see also Hurley, 2018a).

Second, externally, as a transnational military alliance, NATO acts as a ‘teaching machine’ in which member and partner states learn the value of WPS as a ‘military tool’ through socialisation with each other (Wright et al., 2019; see also Enloe, 1981). This means perpetuating an understanding of WPS as a means to support operational effectiveness through ‘the role of masculinist protector which reinforces hegemonic militaristic, masculine ideals and norms’ (Wright et al., 2019: 34). This patriarchal logic puts ‘women and children, in a subordinate position of dependence and obedience’ to justify the waging of war (Young, 2003: 2), for example, NATO’s intervention in Afghanistan (Wright, 2019). It is reinforced through the stories NATO tells internally about its WPS engagement (Hurley, 2018b) and externally in public diplomacy (Wright, 2019) and to support partnerships with other states but also celebrities (Wright and Bergman Rosamond, 2021) and now civil society. Thus, interrogating civil society perceptions of NATO in this context adds an additional dimension to understanding how NATO seeks to legitimise itself as a WPS actor, further constituting its role as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity.

It is worth noting here that CSAP was revised in late 2019 following an independent review commissioned by NATO, neither this review, the new Terms of Reference nor full membership have been made public. This reflects some of the challenges to researching NATO, an institution cloaked in secrecy by merit of its purpose as a security and defence alliance (see Wright and Hurley, 2017 for a wider discussion). Therefore, the focus of this article is on CSAP as it existed prior to this revision, from the first consultation with civil society on WPS policy in 2014 and the formal establishment of CSAP in 2016 until its 2019 revision which led to a change in membership. This lack of transparency has also necessitated the method. In order to assess civil society perceptions of NATO as a WPS actor, I use a number of sources. First, I conducted 23 semi-structured interviews of varying length with civil society actors working on WPS, including current or former CSAP members. Participants were identified via their membership of CSAP, as prominent civil society actors working on WPS (in line with NATO’s definition) and via snowballing. The interviews took place either remotely or in person in locations across the globe between September 2018 and March 2020. All of the interviews were conducted on the condition of anonymity to enable participants to speak as freely as possible. For this reason, no distinction is made between current and former CSAP members. In addition, the locations of specific interviews have not been revealed (Appendix 1), and this is because the relatively small pool of members means doing so would potentially expose the participants’ identities. Second, I conducted a review of civil society and NATO websites, including features on NATO or CSAP specifically, along with NATO policy documents where available and related content to inform my analysis. I used this information to generate interview questions and also to corroborate interview data where possible.

Civil society and WPS

Civil society ‘has historically carried multiple and sometimes blatantly contradictory meanings’ (Scholte, 2004: 213), with the concept ‘differently articulated in different socio-political and historical contexts’ (Shepherd, 2015: 892). NATO’s most recent definition of civil society is as ‘a community of citizens linked by common interest and/or collective activity. It includes a wide array of groups including, but not limited to, non-governmental, faith based, women’s social organisations and charities’ (NATO, 2019: 4). This explains why academics with expertise on gender and WPS were among those included in NATO’s initial civil society consultations on WPS. However, for the purpose of this article, my aim is not to interrogate NATO’s definition beyond outlining what it is, nor the meaning of civil society within International Relations theory because, as Jens Bartelson (2006: 372) argues:

Rather than asking what the concept of global civil society might mean and what kind of institutions and practices it might refer to, we should ask what is done by means of it – what kind of world is constituted, and what kind of beliefs, institutions and practices can be justified, through the usage of this concept?

At the global level, civil society operates across a range of issue areas, including labour standards, the environment and human rights; while feminist women’s rights groups have been central to promoting gender justice at a global level. Civil society is far from heterogeneous both in terms of focus and approach. Some groups seek to work with and engage directly with other actors in the global sphere, including International Organisations (IOs) and states. For example, the European Women’s Lobby puts pressure on European Union institutions to expand their work on equality (Guerrina and Wright, 2016: 297). Others have organised against globalisation, notably, civil society activists at the World Social Forum (Eschle and Maiguashca, 2007). The focus of this article is the former, civil society actively engaging with states and IOs as part of the global WPS agenda, including NATO.

Civil society have been central to the WPS agenda, for example, the NGO Working Group on WPS, an umbrella organisation of interested NGOs which lobbied for, drafted and redrafted UNSCR 1325 (Hill et al., 2009) and led to UNSCR 1325 being championed as a ‘feminist achievement’ (Cockburn, 2011). While WPS was not envisaged as a tool to ‘make war safe for women’ (Cook, 2009: 126), the passage of the agenda through the Security Council with an implicit support for a militarised interstate system meant compromises were necessary to these feminist aspirations. Significantly, there was an absence of any commitment to end war or establish an arms regulation system, despite this being a foundational part of the Security Council’s brief (Cockburn, 2007: 217). These omissions and silences draw attention to the contradiction between the Security Council and the normative underpinnings of the WPS agenda (Basu, 2016a).

Civil society remain central to the WPS agenda, and its implementation, including holding the UN, IOs and governments to account for their commitments (Basu, 2016a: 257). As a result, it can be claimed that the agenda

lives in civil society, because it is nurtured and kept alive by the various civil society entities – both individual and collective – that are committed to the realisation of the hard-fought commitments that are represented in WPS principles and practices across the world. (Mundkur and Shepherd, 2018: 85)

While it is often suggested that civil society do have the potential to increase accountability in global governance and in respect to the WPS agenda, it is important to note for the argument presented here that not all civil society activity inherently enhances democratic accountability in global governance (Scholte, 2004: 213). Specifically, international support for civil society can lead them to adapt their agendas to external priorities, which can result in the exclusion of ‘alternative, less professionalized and critical voices’ (Vogel, 2016: 472). This adaptation is evident in moves by some civil society to frame their advocacy around WPS (Farr, 2011; McLeod, 2012). At the same time, WPS has also been resisted by some civil society, including in conflict-affected settings (George, 2014), showing that despite the assumption that civil society are the ‘natural advocates’ of WPS they also ‘demonstrate a mixed response’ to the agenda (Basu, 2016b: 370). Moreover civil society engagement in policy consultations does not preclude policies that are notably at odds with the insecurities and realities facing women and girls’ (Drumond and Rebelo, 2020: 464). The paradox of civil society’s centrality to WPS is highlighted by Sheri Lynn Gibbings (2011: 531; see also Cook, 2016), she argues that

Central to Resolution 1325 is the imagination that there is a distinction between state and society and that the NGOs working on the subject are able to bring the voices of women to the ‘up there’ (i.e. the UN). At the same time, however, the way that women from these conflict zones, such as Afghanistan, were able to speak to the ‘higher up’ Security Council was by claiming to embody the universal principles of peace and security as opposed to the local (tribal or ethnic) interests of particular communities.

Beyond the Security Council, the inclusion of civil society in WPS policy making takes a number of forms. At its most formal at the state level, it includes civil society as co-signatories (in the Netherlands) and implementing agency (Pacific Regional Action Plan) (Shepherd and True, 2014: 270). In other cases, civil society are viewed as important for ‘capacity building’ by states, working with governments to support the implementation of National Action Plans (Haastrup and Hagen, 2020: 136), while the African Union formally engages civil society through Open Sessions (Haastrup, 2018). Yet, as Annika Björkdahl and Johanna Mannergren Selimovic (2019) caution the engagement of civil society

to address crucial gaps in states’ [or IO’s] commitments to the WPS agenda comes with a risk. States may outsource service provision to (often internationally funded) civil society and thus may avoid a longer-term integrated strategy for addressing gender justice gaps. Paradoxically, it may mean that a service-providing civil society may in effect uphold the status quo and hinder state level transformations toward a gender-just peace.

NATO and civil society

Since the late 1990s, the nature of NATO’s military interventions has meant there has been a necessity for NATO to engage with civil society on the ground, yet despite this, such relationships have proven challenging given many civil society organisations are critical of the alliance and its militarist purpose (Gheciu, 2011). NATO has ‘benefited from the experience and expertise of civil society, notably in Kosovo and Afghanistan’ (NATO, 2016a) providing ‘valuable feed-back to the NATO-led operations there’, a claim that was used to justify the establishment of CSAP (NATO, 2016a: 2). This draws parallels to the impetus for NATO’s early engagement with WPS which was shaped by the alliance’s experience in Afghanistan (Wright, 2016: 356).

Despite the shift towards engagement in an operational setting, NATO had not prior to CSAP sought to replicate civil society engagement in the policy-making process (Williams, 2014: 235), making it an exception among IOs (Mayer, 2008). This reluctance to engage civil society could, as Peter Mayer (2008: 116) argues, be attributed to the fact that NATO

cannot afford to share information – let alone power – with organizations that are typically unconstrained by considerations of national, or alliance, interest due to their transnational character and their idealist agenda, giving pride of place to the promotion of human rights and other cosmopolitan values.

NATO’s engagement with WPS is worth interrogating then because it represents part of a move by the alliance away from this ‘realpolitik’ view to engage a broader concept of security to include attention to individuals, facilitating an opening for a new type of relationship with civil society.

Furthermore, NATO’s relationship with civil society is not as clear-cut as a focus solely on operations or the policy-making process would suggest. Specifically, NATO has utilised civil society as a public diplomacy tool which is thus likely to influence future modes of engagement. Since NATO’s early years, civil society have collaborated with NATO, although not affiliated with it, in order to produce and project the alliance’s message (Kuus, 2009: 552) becoming crucial to fostering public understanding of NATO (Risso, 2011: 348). For example, NATO funded groups that later merged into the Atlantic Treaty Association (ATA) with 34 national chapters conducting ‘analyses, training, education, and information activities on foreign affairs and security issues relevant to the Atlantic Alliance’ (ATA, 2020). The centring of civil society in NATO’s public diplomacy is all the more pertinent, given NATO has utilised its work on WPS as a public diplomacy tool in its own right as part of its projection of its role as masculinist protector, reinforcing its status as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity (Wright, 2019; Wright et al., 2019).

The WPS architecture at NATO: towards civil society engagement

NATO’s engagement with WPS has had an external-facing focus from the outset serving to ‘symbolically separate WPS from NATO’ (Wright, 2016: 256). All of NATO’s WPS policies and action plans have been adopted jointly with the Euro-Atlantic Partnership Council (EAPC) and an increasing number of other partners, for example, Japan and New Zealand (Wright et al., 2019: 119) and WPS has been used to create security communities with partner states such as Sweden based on identities and values, rather than ‘realpolitik’ (Wagnsson, 2011). This suggests there could be something unique about this policy area for NATO to engage external audiences on, including civil society. Notwithstanding this, NATO’s initial engagement with WPS in 2007 occurred without consulting civil society. Against the backdrop of NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity, it came about as a result of state-level advocacy that framed WPS as part of NATO’s existing concerns including operational effectiveness (Wright, 2016). The ‘journey served to remove WPS from a direct link to feminist advocacy’ and left ‘open the possibility that NATO’s interpretation of UNSCR 1325 has shaped the WPS agenda itself’ (Wright et al., 2019: 50) through reinforcing ‘hegemonic militaristic, masculine ideals and norms’ (Wright et al., 2019: 34–35).

NATO’s failure to consult civil society on its WPS policy until 2014 could also be explained by the alliance’s lack of experience in involving civil society formally in the policy-making process (Mayer, 2008; Williams, 2014), and it therefore may not have been deemed relevant. Yet this explanation is left wanting, given NATO’s WPS policy has consistently acknowledged the importance of civil society from the outset, even if these aspirations were not operationalised. For example, the initial NATO/EAPC Policy on WPS adopted in 2007 called for civil society consultation (NATO, 2007), and the 2011 revised policy viewed WPS as a tool to foster cooperation with civil society through ‘exchanges of information, best practices and expertise, as well as practical cooperation’ (NATO, 2011). The 2014 Action Plan calls on NATO Officials to ‘explore the possibility of establishing a civil society advisory panel to NATO and identify a possible terms of reference for such a panel’ (NATO/EAPC, 2014). It therefore took three policy revisions before NATO began to actually consult civil society on WPS in 2014.

An alternative explanation for the lack of civil society involvement in NATO’s WPS work prior to 2014 is that NATO has traditionally been ‘not viewed as a partner of civil society’ (Interviewee R; see also Interviewee N; Gheciu, 2011; Mayer, 2008; Williams, 2014) and therefore challenging pre-existing civil society perceptions of NATO was key to facilitating CSAP. One significant development worth considering further in this respect is the creation of the position of SGSR on WPS in 2012, a high-level focal point to coordinate and drive action on WPS (Wright et al., 2019: 60). The SGSR provided a ‘human face’ to NATO and a point of contact within an institution many WPS civil society were unfamiliar or reluctant to engage with. The role of the SGSR was highlighted by civil society as crucial to CSAP’s success (Interviewees A, B, E, F, H, J, L, M, O, P, R, T, V and W). Early on the first SGSR Norwegian diplomat Mari Skåre prioritised the engagement of civil society as a means to create external pressure and therefore momentum to NATO’s WPS work, meeting with them at every opportunity she could across her 2-year tenure (Wright et al., 2019: 61). Skåre’s position within NATO’s political structure and as a diplomat separated her (albeit superficially) from NATO’s military purpose and gave her the tools to navigate a difficult relationship between two divergent actors. As part of this outreach, Skåre visited a number of civil societies in various NATO and partner states, and those on the receiving end of NATO operations. It was through engaging with civil society on their own terms, including visiting their offices; ‘she wanted to meet with us’ (Interviewee P), that Skåre was ultimately successful in ‘fostering an engaged group of civil society actors monitoring NATO’s implementation of UNSCR 1325’ (Wright et al., 2019: 61). It is worth highlighting here that many CSAP members perceived the SGSR to have ‘good intentions’ and this determined their decision to participate: ‘it was her [Skåre’s] vision and there was a lot of intent to be inclusive’, ‘she was really a wonderful leader’ and said ‘let’s sit down in a closed room and just have a conversation about what your various organisational priorities are’ (Interviewees W, N and B). The second SGSR, Dutch Ambassador Marriët Schuurman, and third SGSR, Canadian Clare Hutchinson, continued to engage civil society through CSAP although each brought a ‘very different’ style (Interviewee V; J and W).

An element worth drawing out further here is civil society perceptions of the SGSR post holders and their insider/outsider status within the WPS world. This may explain their propensity to engage or the value seen in such engagement and therefore influence their perceptions of NATO. The first two SGSRs, Skåre and Schuurman, were experienced career diplomats, well versed in navigating NATO but perhaps less experienced with engaging the WPS community specifically. Hutchinson, who took over as SGSR in early 2018, was a departure from this mould, not a diplomat but a career gender expert. A number of civil society, both members of CSAP and not, commented that Hutchinson was ‘one of them’ or ‘came from civil society’ and ‘had experience in the field’ (Interviewees B, H, I, N, R and T). Prior to her appointment at NATO, she worked as a Gender Advisor for the UN and has no background working for civil society (NATO, 2018). This perception is likely reflective of the nature of the transnational WPS community, with a particular hub in New York around the UN, a network Hutchinson was very much a part of and consequently able to draw on for her work at NATO; the ‘decision to appoint Clare as the SGSR is a strong signal of NATO prioritising field experience and expertise at a very substantive level over a political appointment, and that’s amazing’ (Interviewee B, see also Interviewees H, I, N and T). Her background also meant that she took a different approach to WPS at NATO than her predecessors because she speaks the language of the WPS world, not NATO and this is evident in her public engagements (Wright and Bergman Rosamond, 2021: 10). This underscores both the importance of the role of SGSR but also perceptions of the post holder, for supporting positive civil society perceptions of NATO as a WPS actor and therefore their willingness to engage with NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity.

Beyond the SGSR, the reception of CSAP and their expertise at NATO varied and was highly contingent on the individuals involved, with some NATO Officials really willing to engage and learn, while others gave it lip service, and another group not caring at all (Interviewees O, N and W). It is therefore clear that CSAP members did not perceive NATO as a monolith underscoring the importance of individual interactions to shaping wider civil society perceptions of NATO including but also beyond the SGSR. This draws attention to an opportunity to challenge the way NATO functions as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity through individuals working from within to bring in external scrutiny, but also a limit given the value of civil society expertise is far from institutionalised, despite aspirations for it to be so (Stoltenberg, 2020). More broadly, for many CSAP members, this was their first engagement with NATO, ¹ or in some cases, a (political-) military institution and their experiences therefore have the potential to shape their wider propensity to engage with similar institutions going forward.

However, despite perceptions of the intent of the SGSRs and some other NATO Officials, there remained a paradox for civil society who did engage with NATO. As one CSAP member explained ‘you have this sense that the [SGSR and NATO] WPS team and us as civil society should have solidarity but yet they’re still a military institution’ (Interviewee W). It is of little surprise then that civil society perceptions of NATO were not without their tension despite this outreach, one interviewee described their frustrations, with a perception that these meetings became just an opportunity to ‘get an update on what was what was happening’ at NATO ‘with no clear agenda’, but were a ‘very big “tick box” for NATO’ to say it had met with civil society, rather than an attempt at meaningful dialogue and as a result participation dropped off (Interviewee I), and rather than focusing on civil society recommendations to NATO, the meetings shifted to become focused on a ‘lot of presentations from people [at NATO] in a structure that we as civil society don’t really understand’ (Interviewee W). The interviews also highlighted a case where one CSAP member felt a red-line had been crossed by NATO and withdrew from participating in the advisory panel (Interviewees P and W). Thus underscoring how civil society perceptions of CSAP are not homogeneous, and measures of the success of consultations are highly contingent on perceptions of intent. Yet NATO’s press release on the 2016 CSAP meeting claimed unmitigated success: ‘This is almost revolutionary!’ (NATO, 2016a). As Sarah Von Billerbeck (2019) argues, part of NATO’s self-legitimisation in its internal narrative is to claim success where the intent was ‘right’, even where the outcome was not as originally envisaged (p. 8). We can see that this self-legitimisation process extends externally through the way the alliance functions as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity, with the ‘successful’ civil society consultations used to further position NATO as a military leader on WPS (Wright and Bergman Rosamond, 2021); with CSAP expected to ‘become an important asset to NATO’s work to move this agenda forward’ (NATO, 2016a).

Perceptions: to engage or not to engage

While civil society working on WPS are far from a homogeneous group, perceptions of NATO clearly influenced their propensity to engage and for those who did, the manner in which they engaged. While some CSAP members have been open about their membership of CSAP (see, for example, Estonian Atlantic Treaty Organisation, 2019; Kosovo Women’s Network, 2017), others have chosen not to do so, taking instead a more cautious approach in not publicising their work with NATO as a result of wider perceptions of NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity. As one interviewee elaborated,

I think it sort of points to the tension within the Women, Peace and Security world about whether you engage with military institutions, and try to shift them to sort of achieving a bare minimum standard of rights respecting, and try to crack open spaces within a military institution to do that, recognising that a military institution is, whether we want it to or not, going to have an impact on the communities that we’re engaging with, as our core constituency. Or if you take a principled stand and say, I fundamentally disagree with a militarised approach. And so I will not engage you as a military institution. (Interviewee B)

Indicative of this, I found a range of views on whether to engage with NATO on WPS, including some WPS civil society who were not aware that NATO has a policy on WPS (Interview D, F). Others had either refused to or would not consider working with NATO because of their own organisation’s ‘limited capacity’ or as a point of principle because NATO is a defence organisation whose obvious recourse was to military solutions (Interviewees D, E, I and H). This is in contrast to the engagement of many civil societies with the UN Security Council, notably the NGO Working Group on WPS, where it was felt there were better prospects to influence non-military solutions given its wider remit in maintaining international peace and security, rather than the collective defence role which was perceived to define NATO (Interviewee E; see also Interviewee B). Some civil society working on WPS took a more pragmatic view and were less adverse to engagement: ‘there’s a real recognition that there’s nothing that would be better to do alone, that would not be improved by working together with others’ (Interviewee F, see also interviewees Q, and V). As another CSAP member elaborated, they also saw the potential for their engagement to mitigate NATO’s role as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity:

I think that you have to strike a balance. . . we are not living in a world in which NATO is not going to exist, whether or not we agree with and or want that. So I definitely think it is important to engage. But I think it is important to then always retain the right to be critical of what that approach is. (Interviewee W)

The question of how NATO sought to recruit members to CSAP is also pertinent for considering the potential of CSAP to support a transformative understanding of WPS. CSAP relied on a top-down recruitment process, with NATO members, partners and other ‘relevant’ IOs asked to recommend ‘qualified civil society individuals and organisations’, which would then be selected by the SGSR in ‘close consultation’ with allies and partners (NATO, 2016b: 2). In practice, this resulted in a range of different recruitment processes, for example, some CSAP members were approached directly by the SGSR herself as a result of an existing relationship, others were contacted by their own nations, some had to apply through an open competition run by their nation, and others were proposed by IOs such as the European Union (Interviewees N-W; see also: Kosovo Women’s Network, 2017). The use of competition has echoes of earlier uses of civil society as a public diplomacy tool by NATO (Kuus, 2009: 552; Risso, 2011: 348). It was also reflective of a desire for CSAP membership to be ‘geographically balanced’ among civil society organisations and networks from member and partner countries that ‘have associated themselves with the 1325 Policy and Action Plan’ (NATO, 2016b: 2). However, no mention was given to the inclusion of conflict-affected states, ² although in practice there was civil society representation from Afghanistan, Kosovo, Georgia and Ukraine. In respect to WPS, this is on the one hand surprising, given the ‘framing of the WPS agenda tends to target intervention in the lives of women in fragile and conflict-affected states’ (Haastrup, 2020: 200). Something which NATO’s own engagement with WPS has reflected, with the alliance’s experience in Afghanistan shaping the meaning it ascribed to the agenda through the projection of NATO as a masculinist protector (Wright, 2016: 356, 2019). Yet given the agency of the Global South is often not given credence in WPS discourse where the ‘Global South tend to appear as passive recipients of policies that are developed elsewhere’ (Basu, 2016b: 364), it could be argued that it is not surprising that NATO’s consultative mechanisms failed to prioritise those on the receiving end of NATO operations in the accompanying policy, reinforcing NATO’s role as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity through its projection as masculinist protector.

The result was that CSAP, with a membership of 30, was dominated by member and partner states leading to a perception that it was ‘very white’, ‘very Western’, with ‘white donor state women’ overrepresented and therefore essentially ‘a bunch of white women in a room discussing what to do’ (Interviewees B, N and W). From a NATO standpoint, it reflects NATO’s understanding of diversity as an issue of member (and partner) state representation, with a ‘reluctance to address diversity as an issue related to race and ethnicity’ contributing to the dominance of ‘white men’s bodies’ helping to constitute NATO’s role as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity (Wright et al., 2019: 32). Given this, it is of little surprise that white women have been reflected back at NATO through CSAP. Some CSAP members perceived that efforts to address this and make the process more inclusive fell to civil society, with an expectation they would use their own consultative mechanisms, reflective of a paternalistic logic. Yet, there was no funding provided by NATO to support such work for civil society who were already overstretched in their day-to-day work, and some were cautious in such advocacy with a wariness NATO could co-opt engagement with women’s rights groups on the ground as an intelligence tool (Interviewee J, N, P and W). Thus demonstrating an awareness among civil society of the balancing act between engagement potentially supportive of transformations in line with gender justice, and those which uphold the status quo (Björkdahl and Selimovic, 2019), in this case supporting the way NATO functions as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity.

Perceptions: encounters with NATO’s bureaucracy

Encounters with NATO’s bureaucracy and security apparatus can lead outsiders, including civil society, to feel ‘uncomfortable and out of place’, in turn influencing their perceptions of NATO (Wright and Hurley, 2017). Bridging the gap between an organisation known for its secrecy and civil society who require openness to perform their role as ‘critical friends’ is a key challenge for an effective CSAP. Yet transparency in NATO’s work on WPS is not always a simple or straightforward process. CSAP members do not by the nature of their work have NATO-level security clearance by merit of their membership of the group (nor would it be appropriate), and this sometimes led to a perception that they were not privy to the whole picture (Interviewees N, S, T and W). They also struggled to engage with NATO officials because they were not informed prior to their meetings of who would be present due to ‘security concerns’ (Interviewee W). A related concern was a lack of clarity from NATO on just what they were allowed to share from their meetings. This limited the extent to which they could feedback lessons learned into their own organisations which was a key motivation for civil society participation (Interviewees K, O, S and U). Thus reinforcing a paternalistic approach but one civil society questioned, rather than accepted, representing a challenge to the masculinist protector logic underpinning NATO’s engagement with WPS and wider functioning as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity.

A good working relationship among CSAP members is essential for its effectiveness as a consultative mechanism. Yet outside of the annual meetings, it was largely left to ‘individual members to create a cohesive group’ (Interviewee S) and even during meetings no time was set aside for CSAP to meet without NATO Officials present. This is also significant because the opportunity to form relationships with other civil society was something CSAP members valued highly as a key motivator behind their decision to participate (Interviewees P, Q, R, S, V and W). While some struggled to attend meetings organised at very short notice at all, creating a perception their time was not valued by NATO: ‘we are not there just for NATO, we are busy with our work as well’ (Interviewee P; see also interviewees N, S and W). These difficulties could be a result of NATO’s lack of experience in formally consulting civil society (Mayer, 2008: 118; Williams, 2014: 235). Yet, if NATO’s belated consultations with civil society on WPS are a result of the fact it has traditionally been ‘not viewed as a partner of civil society’ (Gheciu, 2011), civil society perceptions that they are not valued when they are consulted have the potential to make future consultations more challenging and less meaningful.

The issue of expenses, specifically what NATO would reimburse for CSAP participants, was another concern. CSAP members did not receive an honorarium, which was seen as important to maintain their impartiality (Interviewee S). However, there was frustration at the limited expenses on offer, with most CSAP members not able to claim expenses incurred from their own organisations leaving them personally out-of-pocket (Interviewees P, R, S and W). While this could be seen as a relatively minor issue, it creates a barrier to participation for civil society without the personal or institutional resource to cover a trip to an expensive city such as Brussels. In one instance security concerns led NATO to outsource a CSAP conference call to a member at their own organisation’s expense (Interviewees O, S and W). As a CSAP member argued ‘if there is a political commitment then you fund the political commitment’ (Interviewee P; see also interviewees N, R and S). These funding issues draw attention to a tension between the need to fund the implementation of WPS, including the provision of a sufficient dedicated budget to facilitate monitoring and evaluation (Basu, 2017: 723). At NATO, adequate funding of the Office of SGSR has been a challenge since its establishment (Wright, 2016: 354) so it is of little surprise that it has impacted CSAP.

Conclusion

This article has provided the first in-depth study of civil perceptions of NATO in the context of NATO’s implementation of the WPS agenda, interrogating how they reinforce or challenge the way NATO functions as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity. Perhaps unsurprisingly given NATO’s lack of experience, it finds that NATO’s first ever attempt to engage civil society formally in the policy-making process has not been without its challenges. And that these difficulties have in turn influenced civil society perceptions of NATO. It is not a surprise that WPS is the first issue NATO has chosen to consult civil society formally on given the integral role of civil society to the WPS agenda. Yet, WPS civil society remains split between those willing to engage and those who would not consider engaging with NATO as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity. Moreover, this research highlights that even those who do engage had reservations and were cautious in how they went about doing so. For example, one CSAP member resigned when they felt NATO had crossed a line. This suggests there remain limits to the transformational potential of civil society engagement with (political-) military institutions.

The article draws attention to the importance of individual relationships to both facilitating and building relationships between disparate actors, particularly in the case of (political-) military institutions such as NATO. The SGSR position made CSAP possible, with the three incumbents Mari Skåre, Marriët Schuurman and Clare Hutchinson bringing different qualities to the role. This indicates that although NATO-civil society relationships were not without challenges, an individual WPS focal point within a military organisation can provide an important focal point for fostering productive relations. As the new SGSR, Irene Fellin, takes up her position in early 2022, bringing a new dimension to the role with experience working at NATO on WPS but also more recently in civil society (NATO, 2021), it will be interesting to see if she can utilise her connections to build on what her predecessors have achieved in navigating NATO-civil society relations.

Beyond the role of individuals in facilitating CSAP, the article also finds that encounters with NATO’s bureaucracy and security apparatus and the resulting difficulties and frustrations influence civil society perceptions of the value NATO places on WPS. Given the many similarities of NATO to other military organisations (including national militaries), this is likely to be replicated in other settings. These seemingly mundane encounters are integral to ensuring civil society consultation is effective and should be addressed if NATO is serious in its vision to ‘reach out to civil society’ (Stoltenberg, 2020). While the perceived potential of civil society contributions to shape NATO’s engagement with WPS kept CSAP members engaged, noting in particular the value of civil society’s expertise, an ability to speak uncomfortable truths and bring voices to the table that NATO would not usually hear. These aspirations were ultimately challenged by resourcing issues, with overstretched civil society unable to compensate for some of the deficits in representation they perceived in CSAP membership. Along with a perception that a lack of transparency in the consultations meant civil society were not privy to the whole picture limiting their ability to influence outcomes.

The article finds that’s NATO’s self-legitimisation narrative (see Von Billerbeck, 2019), resting on the assumption that if the intent is right, the outcome is less relevant, can be projected back to the alliance through civil society. Notably, while the ‘good intentions’ of the SGSR were repeatedly noted by interviewees in establishing CSAP, where these intentions were not perceived as good, civil society became less engaged. This is significant for understanding how NATO functions as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity given the centrality of both internal and external storytelling to reproducing a particular understanding of WPS within a militarist framework. This underscores the limits to the transformative potential of civil society engagement with NATO but also other military institutions.

Building on this, the membership of CSAP perceived of as ‘white and Western’ reflected back to NATO a view of WPS less challenging to the institution than one which had taken diversity seriously beyond the representation of member and partner states. The recruitment process of CSAP members, through member, IOs and the SGSR’s recommendations, also aligns with NATO’s early utilisation of civil society as a proxy for public diplomacy, even if many CSAP members once recruited were quick to stress that their participation should not be read as endorsement for NATO. The who of civil society engagement is therefore integral to ensuring a diversity of views which challenge existing institutional narratives and leave space for transformative advocacy in line with the feminist aspirations for WPS.

Previous work has already demonstrated that NATO has a significant role in shaping member and partner states’ understanding of the WPS agenda within a militarist framework through its role as an institution of international hegemonic masculinity (see Wright et al., 2019). This article builds on those findings by incorporating consideration of a new external actor, civil society. If as this article suggests, engaging civil society has facilitated NATO’s legitimisation as a WPS actor without contributing to the transformation of NATO’s militarist approach to WPS, then further work is needed to understand the process by which NATO has moved from an outlier to an accepted part of conversations on WPS from the Security Council to civil society.