This article is part of ASPI’s 2020 series on women, peace and security.

It’s complicated.

Over the past several years, many countries have worked hard to get more women involved in their militaries, and the United Nations is making a big push to deploy more military women on peacekeeping operations. Some parts of the military have had great success, and in other areas there’s been very little ability to effect change. The reasons for this are many—and the solutions needed to change the status quo are far from straightforward.

And when you’re wanting to increase the number of military women being deployed into UN peacekeeping, the levers that the UN can pull to make improvements are few and the cultures involved are many. See—it’s complicated already.

First and foremost, the UN can’t deploy military women if they don’t exist. And while Secretary-General Antonio Guterres has made gender equality a cornerstone policy for the UN, neither he nor anyone else in the organisation can make nations change their policies to give more women access to military employment. Even countries like Australia, which has made significant changes to provide more equitable opportunities, are still falling short in attracting women in some areas.

Despite concerted efforts in recent years in Australia to increase the number of women serving in the Australian Defence Force, women are still significantly under-represented in combat and security (such as infantry) and in engineering, technical and construction roles.

For myriad reasons, women are not joining the military in these areas. And this isn’t just Australia’s problem—it’s global.

Of course, not all nations are putting in the effort that Australia’s military is. Many don’t allow women to join the military in combat roles. Some don’t allow women to join as enlisted personnel, while others only allow women to join in a small range of roles. And of course, some militaries don’t allow women to join at all.

Even without these overt institutional barriers, the proportion of women involved in the military still doesn’t come close to reflecting women’s participation in the civilian workforce. There are a whole range of reasons for this.

Unconscious bias plays a role. Well-meaning people, who are not even aware that their decisions—about who’s chosen for enlistment or commission, who gets deployed, who gets promoted—are guided by presumptions and prejudices they don’t know (or acknowledge) they hold. Assumptions persist that only certain styles of leadership cut it in a military context, that ‘softer’ (read: women’s?) leadership styles lack authority and aren’t suitable in a military environment. This is despite civilian studies that find women are highly effective leaders.

Gender stereotypes and care expectations are barriers as well. Many women continue to be the primary caregivers for their children and other family members. This is a difficult thing to manage when you routinely have to go away on military exercises and are then required to deploy for six months or more.

Perhaps this reality is part of why few women apply for combat roles. But perhaps there just aren’t enough women already doing the job to inspire young women to consider it as an option.

Some countries manage to deploy significantly higher proportions of military women than others, including in combat roles—and African nations lead the way. The latest UN figures (from January 2020) show South Africa, Ghana and Ethiopia topping the list of countries meeting or exceeding UN targets for the percentage of women deployed by nations with over 1,000 troops in UN peacekeeping.

Unfortunately, there’s no simple answer for why countries like South Africa and Ghana are successful and other countries aren’t. From a statistical perspective, it’s almost impossible to compare participation rates for military women around the world, as few countries report on their military sizes, let alone provide gender-disaggregated data. NATO nations report their statistics in detail. Otherwise, there’s very little data available—except for UN gender reporting, which details each month how many military women are deployed on each mission, and by each participating nation, and whether they’re meeting the targets set out in the UN’s uniformed gender parity strategy (UGPS).

The UN’s UGPS was introduced in 2018 to set targets and provide strategies for increasing the participation of women in military, police, and justice and corrections roles in peacekeeping. It acknowledged that the strategies introduced to increase the employment of civilian women in the UN were simply not suitable for the unique circumstances facing uniformed women. The UGPS sets out strategies for different categories of uniformed employment—for military women that means employment at UN headquarters, in individual (staff officer and military observer) positions and as part of formed units (overwhelmingly infantry battalions, though also others such as aviation and medical units).

There has been a significant increase in the number of women deployed in recent years in individual staff officer or expert-on-mission positions thanks to the strategies implemented under the UGPS. And there has been improvement in formed contingents as well, though this is much slower. Of the 74,009 military personnel currently deployed in peacekeeping, 70,738 are part of formed contingents, largely made up of infantry troops (which are overwhelmingly male). Only 5%, or 3,405 troops in formed units, are women. Significantly changing these figures will require every contributing country to make real changes to their cultures and policies to encourage women into these roles and address the barriers to their participation. And it will require more women to want to perform these roles and believe they can do the job.

The UN’s parity strategy is slowly reshaping the opportunities for women in the world’s participating militaries. And while I do believe that parity rates will continue to increase over time, I don’t believe that we’ll see 50–50 gender parity in the military in my lifetime. And I don’t think we have to. What we do need to do is give the world’s women (and all minorities) opportunities to find meaningful careers wherever they choose. Women are as capable as men to perform military roles, and diversity in any organisation makes that organisation better. That, at least, isn’t complicated.

This article is part of a series on women, peace and security that The Strategist is publishing in recognition of International Women’s Day.

After more than three decades of research and advocacy, there’s increasing recognition of the link between ideas about masculinity and violence. Notions of manhood that centre on strength, emotional detachment, risk-taking and violent resolutions of disputes all shape conflict, propel men to join violent groups and hamper peacebuilding.

Yet, while the association between violence and maleness runs deep, it isn’t inevitable. Locally relevant targeted interventions can challenge men’s relationship with violence and dominance, and there’s been increasing investment in initiatives that work directly with men and boys in conflict-affected sites to transform harmful notions of masculinity.

Harmful notions of masculinity also shape state security institutions, but this has largely gone unaddressed by funders who have been enthusiastic about targeting men in conflict-affected sites. We know that harmful notions of masculinity within state institutions promote cultures of abuse, devalue women’s contributions and entrench homophobia.

Recent scandals in the peace and security sectors have forced some institutions to acknowledge the most egregious impacts that masculinities can have, but wide recognition hasn’t been forthcoming. Regressive notions about what it means to be a man are so pervasive that they can be difficult to identify in institutions where there are few visible alternatives. This is doubly so in institutions in which ideals of martial masculinity are venerated and become established through tradition.

Despite the gravity of the challenge, notions of masculinity are not immutable. In response to the increased visibility of men’s violence in Australia, there’s been considerable investment in research and programs focused on shifting men’s attitudes towards gender. Domestically, Australia has been a leader in funding programs to transform harmful masculinities through male advocates, awareness campaigns and school curriculums. Australia has also enthusiastically supported work by its neighbours to confront harmful gender norms. This challenging work has shown some promising results in shifting men’s ideas about violence and power.

Considering the growth of gendered work on men in other arenas, why has the security sector continued to treat ‘gender’ as a synonym for ‘women’?

To date, the Australian government’s approach to the women, peace and security agenda has not focused directly on men and masculinity. In line with the broader trend in WPS work globally, that work has been slow to develop. International examples have included programs on gender sensitivity, services for men in conflict-affected countries and efforts to engage men in gender equality.

Certain kinds of direct programs have proven effective in changing harmful notions of masculinity that facilitate violence and abuse. This programming should be integrated as a core part of training in the security sector and supported internationally in conflict-affected settings where appropriate.

Such a concerted effort would challenge attitudes that fuel gender-based violence and exclusory behaviour. It would contribute to the established pillar of prevention, working directly with people who are more likely to either perpetrate violence or create cultures of impunity for those who do.

Developing this direct programming would complement recent policy changes, such as the Australian Defence Force’s banning of death imagery that glorifies violence. Similarly, the need to combat the influence of harmful cultural products on Australian military masculinities, such as violent pornography and video games, was identified in a study by Major E.G. Boulton as an important step in breaking down barriers to women’s meaningful involvement in the ADF. Boulton’s study shows the pervasive impact of harmful masculinities on the ADF and the continuing need for direct work on its institutions. While targeted masculinity programs are hardly a panacea for the diverse ways that gender shapes peace and security in the Asia–Pacific region, an increased focus on and investment in shifting masculinities is likely to complement Australia’s existing work.

Further work is also needed to ensure that the Australian security sector reflects the diverse makeup of the country. The sector tends to be decidedly male-dominated, with overrepresentation of men in both civilian and enlisted roles. While these ratios are changing over time, the historical domination of security institutions by men has meant that the traditions and norms of those institutions tend to reflect masculine modes of behaviour.

Research on gender and institutional culture has emphasised that male-dominated institutions risk creating hostile environments for women, in which their contributions, perspectives and needs are marginalised or devalued. So far, the ADF has sought to increase women’s recruitment; however, without more widely challenging patriarchal values in the security sector, such a move risks becoming a quixotic effort to ‘make war safe for women’ rather than profoundly shifting violent masculinity.

Promoting women’s participation is one important step in challenging these tendencies, but should go hand in hand with understanding how ideas of masculinity create barriers to the meaningful participation of women and gender-diverse people.

It is no longer tenable to suggest that addressing gender in the security sector is a ‘women’s issue’. While the goals of the WPS agenda explicitly prioritise women, it’s men’s behaviour that creates the main barriers to achieving those objectives. That behaviour can and should change, so meaningful action is now needed in Australia’s security sector. By explicitly naming violent masculinities as a problem in Australia’s new national action plan on WPS, and making concrete commitments to shift harmful norms at home, Australia has the potential to address some of the root causes of women’s insecurity.

Editors’ note: This post has been amended at the request of the author to include a reference to the work of Major E.G. Boulton on the topic which was inadvertently omitted from the original draft.

This article is the first in a series on women, peace and security that The Strategist will be publishing over coming weeks in recognition of International Women’s Day.

On International Women’s Day on Sunday, Foreign Minister Marise Payne announced the appointment of Australia’s first ambassador for gender equality. Julie-Ann Guivarra will take over from Sharman Stone, who is currently Australia’s ambassador for women and girls. It’s a welcome move to retitle the role. The new title aligns more clearly with the vision set out in Australia’s 2017 foreign policy white paper, which identified gender equality as a critical component for building international engagement.

The appointment comes at a particularly important juncture for efforts focused on progressing women’s empowerment and gender equality across the globe. This year marks 25 years since the adoption of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action. The 2020 session of the UN Commission on the Status of Women in New York was to focus on the implementation of the declaration and platform.

However, the annual event—which brings together thousands of people each year from across the world, including perhaps most importantly a diverse array of women’s civil-society organisations—was cut short because of the spread of the novel coronavirus Covid-19. Instead, a one-day meeting was held in New York to adopt a political declaration and the rest of the session was cancelled.

It’s unfortunate that a gathering focused on women’s rights was one of the first to fall victim to the expected global pandemic. While the concerns about the spread of coronavirus were legitimate, to many it was yet another sign that women’s rights are the low-hanging fruit.

There were concerns heading into this year’s session that there would be efforts to backpedal on women’s rights. While the political declaration reaffirmed the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action, it refrained from dealing with more contentious issues such as ‘sexual and reproductive health’. At last year’s session there were heated exchanges and extensive lobbying over the use of terms such as ‘gender’ and ‘sexual health’, and many delegations tried to hold the line on gains that had been made in advancing women’s rights.

In an alarming development, the vice-chair of those negotiations was subject to a sustained barrage of cyberbullying. The US, a traditional ally on women’s rights, was often on the side of traditional opponents such as Russia. Unfortunately, tensions like this aren’t an anomaly.

When Germany sought to negotiate a ninth resolution on women, peace and security in the UN Security Council in April last year, it faced staunch opposition and the threat of a veto from the US to the inclusion of previously agreed language on ‘sexual and reproductive health’. Russia and China abstained on a WPS resolution for the first time. The development led some researchers to question whether it was riskier to try to advance the WPS agenda than to simply work to implement the recommendations that had already been agreed. Despite this, South Africa went ahead with its plans to negotiate a 10th resolution on WPS in October 2019. While the resolution consolidated some gains and was adopted unanimously, it’s clear that as the agenda approaches its 20th anniversary in October, supporters of gender equality will need to address the growing fragmentation among member states.

Part of the challenge is that issues related to gender equality and WPS are still not routinely considered to be relevant when geopolitical crises emerge. In traditional ‘hard security’ contexts, women’s participation is still viewed as easily expendable, with no consequences for the viability or sustainability of a peace deal.

The recently concluded peace agreement between the Taliban and the US has been widely criticised not only for the absence of women in the negotiations, but also for the lack of protections that women and human rights defenders are likely to receive from the Taliban. After 18 years of war, a war that was predicated partly on advancing women’s rights, that’s a step backwards, yet the deal has been lauded as a success by some for bringing an end to the conflict.

Addressing issues that are likely to improve gender equality, such as human rights and violence against women, are often not considered a priority in peace negotiations or rarely implemented if included, despite the evidence that gender inequality is a likely predictor of conflict. A survey conducted by Women in International Security in 2018 found that most policymakers didn’t think that gender was relevant to national security. They also conflated ‘gender’ with ‘women’ or the ‘add women and stir’ approach, rather than understanding that it was about analysis of the relationships between men and women, and power structures in society, which remain largely patriarchal.

Research has shown that the stability of societies is inextricably linked to how they treat women. The inclusion of more gendered analysis in national security is essential to ensuring that policymakers develop more effective responses to a range of security challenges.

For instance, as Australia and other countries put more measures in place to manage Covid-19, they should develop appropriate mitigation strategies to address the disproportionate impact these measures may have on women. Women are more likely to be primary caregivers and will be more affected by school closures. Women are also more likely to be frontline health workers, or to be affected by increased incidents of domestic violence if families are quarantined behind closed doors. We need to move beyond what UK author Caroline Criado Perez has defined as the assumed male default that makes women invisible not only in society, but in our approaches to national security.

Australia has made important progress in furthering gender equality as part of our foreign policy and within the national security community in recent years. But that progress, captured in part by reports on implementation of Australia’s national action plan on WPS, remains too slow (and we’re still awaiting the now overdue release of the next action plan). Some of those efforts have focused on increasing the levels of women’s participation in the security sector and foreign policy institutions, but more needs to be done to ensure that gender analysis is factored into Australia’s national security policies.

In an era in which support for gender equality is fragmenting, including among some of our allies and partners, Australia’s commitment to prioritising gender equality will be tested. It can’t just fall to the ambassador for gender equality, the minister for women or public servants focused on gender equality or WPS to speak out when that’s the case. It’s a responsibility across the government that’s linked to our ability to adequately address the security challenges we will continue to face.

The relationship between women’s participation in the Australian Defence Force and the concept of women, peace and security in the context of ADF operations isn’t yet clearly articulated in capability terms. This discredits it in the eyes of those who object to WPS as an agenda and risks undermining the successful implementation of WPS as a security approach. Articulating the connection would be assisted by further research in two areas: empirically assessing the capability and skills needed to implement WPS, and striking a balance between thematic expertise and country-specific knowledge of gender relations.

The first issue is vexed. While we often hear female participation described as an essential input to achieving WPS effects, three different arguments seem to be put forward in support of it. The first is that female participation offers a new deployable capability because servicewomen can engage with local women in the deployed environment, because they are women and notwithstanding differences in language, culture and probably socioeconomic background. This assumption of gendered capability also seems part of the UN’s WPS practice, especially in its targets for female participation in peacekeeping, and the generic assertion that the inclusion of female peacekeepers will increase the willingness of local women to report violence.

Neither part of this argument appears to be supported yet by a body of relevant empirical research. Moreover, it diverts research attention from the individual skills and training needed to meet WPS operational outcomes in both female and male personnel—which could include cross-cultural awareness, languages other than English, intelligence collection, logistics, and policing and infantry patrol skills—as well as practical considerations such as the availability of both male and female interpreters and community liaisons.

Alternatively, it’s suggested that increasing women’s participation in the military offers an expanded capability, because diversity of representation necessarily brings diversity of thought to achieve operational goals and plans. This raises a significant difficulty in managing expectations because, statistically, most members of any gender will be average performers.

A third variant is that female participation offers increased scope to produce the same capability because it’s no longer possible to meet ADF capability requirements through traditional recruitment pools. That line of thinking puts the spotlight on physical standards and training and attracts emotive debate, which has little connection to the purposes of the WPS agenda. This approach is complicated by the overlay of arguments about gender parity and inclusion, and the need for compliance with the federal Sex Discrimination Act.

The challenge is to define a central and consistent narrative that answers the essential question for women’s participation to WPS ends—not participation for its own sake but participation in what and for what. UN Security Council resolution 1325 conceived of women’s contribution to peacebuilding as occurring through channels of power and influence, not just woman-to-woman engagement on ‘women’s issues’ separate from that process. Empirical research that defines military capability for gender-specific purposes and identifies its training requirements is essential in focusing the continuing implementation of WPS in the context of deployed operations.

In addition to the lack of clarity in the capability discussion, the balance between thematic gender expertise and country-specific gender knowledge is so far relatively unexplored in the military context. For peacebuilding more broadly, Séverine Autesserre found that, despite differing individual backgrounds, intervenors in international conflicts share similar daily modes of operation; and because they are similar, they often lack an in-depth ability to generate operational plans that are tailored to the specific environment, which limits operational success.

Applied in the WPS field, this would mean balancing the input from gender experts, ADF operational planners and country experts. As an example of the new dimensions such a balance might offer, an Afghan-centric critique of coalition female engagement teams in Afghanistan argued that some of the core assumptions—that teams comprising female coalition soldiers could engage and influence Afghan women, that Afghan women were influential in a way Western forces would recognise, and that Afghan women would provide useful information for counterinsurgency operations—were misplaced in the context of gender relationships in Afghan society. The analysis concluded that that was why the teams weren’t as operationally successful as originally envisaged.

Local expertise is an essential input to operational gender analysis, but it turns on a depth of country-specific institutional and cultural knowledge that isn’t likely to exist either in the ADF intelligence community if gender is mainstreamed as an operational consideration, or among specialist military gender advisers. Instead, it represents a real opportunity for partnered research at the strategic level in defence, to build standing gender analyses of societies of high strategic importance to Australia, particularly in the Indo-Pacific region.

High-level discussion within the ADF and in the wider community has established the relevance of the WPS agenda to operational capability; the challenge now is to develop the empirical research to support a skills-based capability assessment, and country-specific analyses to support effective operational implementation.