[Original article from The Economist]
Defining what makes a country
In quite a state
How many countries in the world? The answer to that question is surprisingly difficult
Apr 8th 2010 | From The Economist print edition
APPLY online for visa-free entry to the United States and the Department for Homeland Security offers 251 choices for “country where you live”. The wide but rum selection includes Bouvet Island, an uninhabitable icy knoll belonging to Norway in the South Atlantic; South Yemen (which stopped being a state in 1990); and the “Neutral Zone”—a diamond-shaped bit of desert between Saudi Arabia and Iraq that vanished after the 1991 Gulf war.
That is the trouble with such lists. Places that are not real states at all end up on them. And places that approximate a bit more closely to countries (at least in their own eyes) may be absent. America’s list, for example, excludes Abkhazia and South Ossetia, self-proclaimed states that broke away from Georgia with Russian backing. Just three other countries—Nicaragua, Venezuela and the islet of Nauru—recognise those breakaway statelets as independent. Meanwhile nobody at all in the outside world seems ready—yet—to give southern Sudan a label of its own, though that day may not be far off.
Private-sector lists are just as odd as those compiled by governments. Hotmail offers 242 “countries/territories” from which you can register an e-mail account. Web-savvy penguins may be pleased that Bouvet Island is on the list. But human beings in Kosovo (recognised by 65 states) and Western Sahara (more than 80) will search in vain for their homeland.
Any attempt to find a clear definition of a country soon runs into a thicket of exceptions and anomalies. Diplomatic recognition is clearly not much guide to real life. In the early years of the cold war most countries recognised the Chinese regime in Taiwan (“Free China”) while the mainland communists (“Red China”) were isolated. Now the absurdity is the other way round. The number of countries with formal diplomatic ties to Taiwan has shrivelled to just 23—mostly small, cash-strapped islands. Yet Taiwan is not just a country, but a rather important one. Under mainland-pleasing names such as “Chinese Taipei” it is a member of the Asian Development Bank and the World Trade Organisation, and an observer at some OECD panels. It has nearly 100 “trade offices” around the world.
If diplomatic recognition is not the main thing that marks out a country, what does? Is it the ability to issue passports that are of some use to the holder, or simply actual control of a stretch of land? Again, the picture is cloudy. Legitimacy, physical control and the capacity to issue documents that other people accept don’t always coincide. For example, lots of countries that do not recognise Kosovo accept travellers bearing its passports. For decades, Lithuania’s exiled diplomats issued usable passports even though their country was under Soviet rule. The Sovereign Military Order of Malta, a do-gooding outfit with crusader roots, issues not only passports but postage stamps (and has diplomatic relations with over 100 countries). Its territory is just two nice buildings in Rome. Vatican City, an enclave of just 44 hectares in the middle of Italy’s capital, is only a little bigger—but it very much sees itself as a sovereign state (see article). Yet the Vatican’s diplomats serve the papacy—the Holy See—rather than the state where it is based. And the See, not the statelet, is an observer at the United Nations.
Not that presence or absence from the UN is much help to anyone seeking clarity. Israel joined the world body in 1949, but 19 of its 192 members do not accept the Jewish state’s existence, and many avoid uttering its name, preferring formulas like “Zionist entity”. A third of UN members do recognise Kosovo, but the UN itself does not.
Living in limbo
In reality, UN membership is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for functioning statehood. Being outside the UN means that Kosovo is still waiting for its own internet domain name, phone prefix and chance to play international football. But Taiwan, recognised by even fewer countries, manages to have all three.
The Turkish-backed administration in northern Cyprus proclaimed independence in 1983 but it has been recognised only by Turkey and remains in a state of partial economic isolation. Attempts have been made to start direct air links with Britain, but in 2009 a court ruled that this would contravene international law which gives the island’s internationally recognised government (which controls the Greek-speaking part of the island) sovereignty over its airspace.
A German thinker, Max Weber, defined statehood as “the monopoly of the legitimate use of violence”. That may be a practical approach but it doesn’t end the confusion. Chaotic Somalia spectacularly fails to meet this criterion, yet still counts as a sovereign state. Yet its northern bit, Somaliland, has met this standard with increasing impressiveness since it declared independence in 1991. It has a currency, car registrations and even biometric passports. But only private firms such as DHL, a courier company, link it to the outside world. International postal service requires membership of the Universal Postal Union, which for non-members of the UN need approval by at least two-thirds of that body’s members. The African Union refuses to recognise Somaliland’s independence because it dislikes changing any African borders. Outsiders hold back until African countries change their minds.
One reason for confusion is simple laziness. Deleting countries that have disappeared or places that have always been uninhabited should be easy (the Department of Homeland Security blames out-of-date historical data for its list and says it will change it soon). But sheer inertia, and a feeling among many sovereign states that changes of boundary and status set a bad precedent, makes changes less likely.
How far a populated patch of land qualifies as a country is ultimately a subjective question for politicians; it will never be settled by lawyers in a way that everybody accepts. And the fact that there are degrees of recognition—ranging from full diplomatic ties to virtually denying a state’s existence—gives governments a calibrated set of tools which can be used to reward good behaviour and penalise bad.
And whatever diplomatic theory says, life goes on. Taiwan is celebrating a friendly resolution from the European Parliament, and dishing out aid to Haiti. Kosovo rents dialling codes from Monaco and Slovenia. A football championship for teams from unrecognised countries is due to start next month in Malta. And a delegation of senior politicians from Somaliland had a friendly meeting at the White House on April 3rd. Presumably they had squared things with immigration control.
[Translation in Chinese by United Daily 聯合報]
經濟學人：台灣是國家 且很重要
2010.04.15╱聯合報╱編譯王麗娟
全世界究竟有多少國家，是一個很難找到正確答案的問題，最新一期經濟學人雜誌報導，這是因現今國家定義極其模糊混亂。文中以台灣為例，指出台灣不但是個國家，且是重要國家，儘管台灣在外交承認上明顯居於劣勢。
上網申請美國免簽證入境，填寫居住國家選項時，美國國土安全部提供的選擇有251個，但網民登錄Hotmail時，「國家／地區」的選擇有242個，顯然政府與民間的國家定義有別，才會出現不同數字。
國土安全部列出的選擇，有些明顯不是國家，比較像國家的反倒付之闕如，例如隸屬挪威、位於南大西洋的波維特島被列為國家，而宣布脫離喬治亞獨立的南奧塞梯亞、阿布哈西亞卻不見於清單，獲得65國承認的科索伏及80餘國承認的西撒哈拉也沒被單獨列出。
報導說，在替國家下定義時，常出現例外、破格的例子，讓定義難以成立，如「外交承認」這個定義就不適用於台灣。冷戰初期，多數國家承認台灣（自由中國），孤立大陸政權（赤色中國），現今則是完全相反。
經濟學人說，儘管承認台灣的國家減為23國，且多數是貧窮小國，但台灣「不僅是一個國家，且是相當重要的一個」。台灣使用令中國滿意的「中華台北」名稱，成為「亞洲開發銀行」與「世界貿易組織」的一員，且是經濟合作暨發展組織一些小組的觀察員，且台灣於全球設有近100個「貿易代表處」。
若是外交承認無法成為一國的定義，以發護照的能力或是領土的實質控制為定義，能成為國家定義嗎？問題在於正當性、領土的實質控制、簽發文件能力不一定並存。不願承認科索伏為獨立國家的許多國家，並不反對持科索伏護照的人民前往旅遊，即是一例。
德國思想家韋伯將國家定義為「擁有合法使用暴力的壟斷地位」的實體，還是無法解決問題。東非索馬利亞亂成一團，不符合這個定義，但被視為一個主權國家。索馬利亞北部的索馬利蘭1991年宣布獨立，情勢相對穩定，擁有自己的貨幣、護照等，較符這個定義，但連非洲聯盟都不承認索馬利蘭是國家。
聯合國會員國的地位也無法成為一國的定義。以色列1949年入會，但聯合國192個成員國有19國並不承認以色列，稱它是「猶太實體」。聯合國有三分之一會員國承認科索伏，但聯合國本身並不承認。
經濟學人再以台灣為例，指出科索伏因未被聯合國承認，因此仍在等待擁有自己的網域名、國際電話國碼、參與國際足球賽的機會，而台灣三者皆有，卻非聯合國會員。這無礙台灣積極參與國際社會，台灣不但提供海地援助，歐洲議會且在三月表決通過，「強烈支持」台灣以觀察員身分參與ICAO與UNFCCC兩個國際組織。這顯示加入聯合國並非行使國家功能的必要條件。
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