Abstract
In the past decades, wars have been characterised by a blurred distinction between combatants and non-combatants, resulting in close examination of categories which challenge this binary. Seemingly contradictory terms such as ‘child soldiers’, ‘militarised refugees’ and ‘human shields’ have been analysed by academics and policymakers to confront questions of whose deaths count as ‘civilian’, ‘collateral damage’ or ‘military necessity’. Human Shields: A History of People in the Line of Fire provides a welcome addition to these debates. This thought-provoking book traces the evolution of human shields who were used to deter attacks on military targets. To do so, the book draws on historical and legal accounts, illustrations and references to current academic discussions on the ethics of violence.
The chapters of this book can be broadly divided into two categories. Most chapters fall into the first category, in which the reader is invited to follow various military conflicts and deployment of human shields. The chapters are organised chronologically, each representing a separate historical event. In these chapters, Gordon and Perugini’s careful analysis provides a major contribution to the discussion of the human shields: a clear historisation of the phenomenon. The events chosen for this purpose demonstrate how the reasons for using human shields, their effectiveness and the populations considered valuable enough to be mobilised, depend on a variety of factors.
For example, Gordon and Perugini’s analysis starts with the American Civil War, where the strategy of human shielding was a spontaneous initiative but did not work as an effective deterrent. By contrast, a few years later in the Franco–German war, shielding became a standard policy employed by the German state army against French irregular fighters because it successfully discouraged the French from sabotaging German supply lines. In both conflicts, only those with high social status were considered valuable enough to serve as shields. A century later, accusations of human shielding focused on women and children, often presenting it as an act of ultimate viciousness and barbarity. Covering 150 years of conflict, the book demonstrates how international law struggled to balance humanitarian protections with legitimisation of military attacks.
Of particular interest is Gordon and Perugini’s explanation of the flexibility of human shields with regard to race. As they argue, non-White people could not act as shields during the Second Boer War, despite the war occurring on South African soil – a phenomenon closely linked to the status of black South Africans as non-civilians. However, after decolonisation wars, many non-White people were mobilised as shields. It is here that the authors offer an insightful critique of how international law is affected by issues of race; as ex-colonised people were granted civilianhood, accusations of human shielding became more prominent specifically with regard to these populations. In turn, such accusations resulted in these civilians losing their newly gained protection, as they were now framed as legitimate targets of military attacks. This rise in accusations, the authors argue, is not coincidental: it functions as a justification for killing civilians in former colonies.
The book’s second category of chapters discusses different dimensions of human shielding. The authors include a variety of topics: the increasing dehumanisation of the shielding figure as it went from specific high-ranking officers to whole urban populations; the importance of spectacle and iconography; and the increasing militarisation of civil protests. These chapters are particularly valuable because they go beyond legal and historical accounts and draw the readers’ attention to the importance of wider discourses, which further justify military action. As Gordon and Perugini demonstrate, parties involved in conflict understand that the morality of their actions is decided through imagery and labels such as ‘civilised people’ versus ‘barbarians’. As such, they are also willing to reinforce the existing narratives, if they legitimise their courses of action. The authors also include chapters about lesser discussed instances of human shielding: in computer games and protests against environmental destruction. Both chapters are short but nevertheless provide grounds for fruitful discussions, which can inform debates on humanity and the militarisation of everyday life.
The book approaches its subject from a historical and legal perspective, while firsthand accounts of those who served as human shields are comparatively sparse. Thus, their motivations and lived experiences – and subsequently, the social practices and power structures they participated in – remain largely unexplored. Even without these accounts, Gordon and Perugini’s final argument is clear. Through analysing the contradictions, evolutions, and the legal ambiguity surrounding human shields, they contend convincingly that ‘humanity’ is not a politically neutral category. On the contrary, it is loaded with social and political relations. The book’s arguments and information will be indispensable to anyone interested in violence and conflict – academics and non-academics alike.
