Listen to Kate, people

Every once in a while I find myself reading an opinion piece that possesses the rare but very precious three C’s: clear, conscise, and compelling. Kate Karacay’s article on our Presidential candidates and the International Criminal Court (ICC) in the Des Moines Register today was just that.

While I fine-tune Part II of Air or Water (also known as my commentary on the peace vs. justice debate in Northern Uganda), check out Kate’s piece, also available on IJ Wire. As Kate points out, now is the time to let the candidates know that across party lines, we support justice and accountability for the world’s worst crimes. And if you’re not a resident of Iowa, you’re not off the hook—doing our part to let the Presidential hopefuls know that Americans want a more constructive, cooperative, and good-faith U.S. policy on the ICC is one more concrete step toward promoting justice and accountability for the world’s worst crimes. 

And if you come up with another “C” adjective (crisp? cogent? clarifying?)—let me know.

  

Air or Water? The Fallacy of “Peace vs. Justice” for Northern Uganda

Part I

In an increasingly capitalistic world, sentences that start with “I need” start to sound awfully silly when they end with “those shoes (of which I admit full and repeated guilt),” “another drink,” or “a plasma TV.” Much to the chagrin of the gazillion ad agencies who exploit our every material whim, the simple fact is that what we actually require in order to survive can be counted on one hand. The top two? My guess is most of us would say air and water.

Imagine the nonsensical scenario where someone actually makes us choose between our two most basic, interconnected needs. In all likelihood we would give them a quizzical look and politely point out that while neither air nor water is on its own sufficient to keep us alive, both are necessary to do so. We need both to sustain ourselves. We need both to grow. And we need both before we can even think about our other basic needs (still not shoes, ladies).

Now switch the words air and water with peace and justice. Imagine you are a civilian in war-torn Northern Uganda, ravaged by a twenty-year civil war that has left you and your family reeling from its effects. Imagine you are missing your hands, ears, and nose, and your children, desperate to avoid becoming child soldiers, commute miles at night to avoid abduction and forced recruitment. If your government/the United Nations/the international community gave you a choice between ending the violence tomorrow or letting the perpetrators of the crimes avoid criminal responsibility only to commit the crimes again, chances are you would think twice between choosing. But here too this “choice” is as nonsensical as choosing between air and water: we need both peace and justice to survive, heal, and ultimately, thrive after being subjected to such violence. Put in wonky academic terms (my apologies), peace and justice are integral elements of any sustainable resolution to conflicts that involve grave human rights violations against civilian populations.

The Republic of Uganda is a landlocked East African country with Kenya, Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Rwanda, and Tanzania as its neighbors. After being a British colony for almost 80 years, Uganda gained independence in 1962. After several coups and the violent rule of infamous dictator Idi Amin, National Resistance Army leader Yoweri Museveni overthrew then President Tito Okello in 1986 and has ruled Uganda ever since.

Notwithstanding early signs of a more stable government and notable progress with various domestic challenges such as HIV/AIDS, President Museveni cannot profess to have clean hands. Aside from involving Uganda in the Second Congo War and other violent conflicts in Africa’s Great Lakes region, Museveni’s government has been engaged in a devastating civil war with the cult rebel group the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) since the late eighties. The LRA is one of the most notorious rebel groups in Africa, operating out of Northern Uganda and increasingly, parts of Sudan. The LRA’s founder and current leader, Joseph Kony, considers himself a “spiritual medium,” claiming to draw on the Ten Commandments and his native Acholi traditions to “liberate” the Ugandan people. Yet the LRA systematically brutalizes the Acholi and other populations in Northern Uganda by using tactics such as maiming, mutilation, and rape. It also relies heavily on child soldiers who are forcibly recruited and ordered to fight and kill other soldiers, victims, and—in an effort to prevent their demobilization—their own family members. The Ugandan civil war between the government’s forces and the LRA is the longest running conflict in Africa with hundreds of thousands of lives, limbs, and childhoods lost.

If any of the names, dates, and events above sound familiar to you, it’s probably because you’ve heard recent news stories covering the peace talks (of which there have been many in the past) between Museveni’s government and the LRA. The latest round of the Juba Peace Talks come after a key event in the history of the violence: Uganda joined the International Criminal Court (ICC) in 2002 and President Museveni referred the LRA situation to the ICC to investigate in December 2003.

 

The ICC’s resulting investigation led to the landmark issuance of arrest warrants for Joseph Kony and four other senior LRA leaders accused of committing grave crimes and massacres since the Court’s establishment in 2002. Not surprisingly, the arrest warrants have become a source of great concern for the LRA leadership who have enjoyed rampant impunity for two decades now. In fact, since the commencement of the Juba Peace Talks, the LRA has threatened to abandon the peace talks if the ICC doesn’t withdraw its warrants. The LRA’s threats have precipitated a highly charged “peace vs. justice” debate in the context of Northern Uganda. Some advocates argue that peace must come at all cost, even if that means denying Ugandans long-overdue justice for the LRA’s heinous crimes. Others argue that justice and accountability must be a part of the greater plan for peace if the goal is a lasting, sustainable end to the ongoing cycle of violence. But what do Northern Ugandans want? The answer was unwavering and unequivocal last week—tune in for Part II, coming up next.

 

For Cambodia, At Very Long Last

Do you remember the last time someone broke your heart? No matter what the circumstances of the event, a surge of anger, resentment, and undeniable loss dominate our emotional and psychological landscape for a while afterwards. Thankfully after some time and, for the really brave ones, self-reflection, we often return to our normal lives. Still, no how matter how much time passes, and how truly “over” X we are, one mental picture continues to do laps in our minds: the one where we finally run into X in a coffee shop or grocery store, and demand an explanation for hurting us. The need to confront those who wrong us and hold them accountable in order to fully heal—the need for vindication—seems as universal as falling in love.

Now imagine if X broke your heart in a different, far more brutal way. Imagine X was responsible for the torture and murder of your family, and thousands of others in your country. Imagine X was part of an elaborate campaign of genocide that wiped out whole segments of your society and left you and other survivors to pick up the pieces for decades afterwards. Imagine X was Kaing Guek Eav, also known as “Duch”—the schoolteacher turned torture mastermind who was responsible for the torture and death of an estimated 17,000 Cambodians under the Khmer Rouge regime.

Rich in culture, history, and beauty, the Southeast Asian country of Cambodia borders Thailand, Laos, and a very familiar country for Americans—Vietnam—to its east and southeast (keep this last geographical detail in mind as you read). Cambodia was a French colony for ninety years until its independence in 1953. Upon independence, the country became a constitutional monarchy under King Norodom Sihanouk. After briefly stepping down from the throne in order to become Prime Minister, Sihanouk resumed power in 1960 with the title of Prince. In 1970 Prince Sihanouk was ousted by a U.S.-backed coup that put Prime Minister General Lon Nol in power as President.

Meanwhile, far away from the capital of Phnom Penh, a growing rebel group called the Khmer Rouge was gaining territory and momentum in an effort to overthrow Lon Nol’s pro-U.S. regime and assume power. The group was headed by Saloth Sar, also known as the now infamous Pol Pot. Pol Pot had a simple vision: to “reconstruct” Cambodian society into an agrarian state starting at Year Zero. Upon ousting Lon Nol and seizing full control of the country in 1975, Pol Pot and his followers began a large-scale, near mechanical campaign of genocide by wiping out all former government officials, civil servants, anyone with an education and other “threats” to the Khmer Rouge ideology. Pol Pot’s purges were achieved through systematic torture, murder, and starvation and disease as a result of mass slave labor. Pol Pot’s reign of terror lasted from 1975 to 1979, during with time at least 2 million Cambodians perished—one fifth of the country’s population at the time.

Notwithstanding the massive scale of the Cambodian genocide, Americans are much less familiar with Cambodia than we are with its neighbor, Vietnam. This is in some part due to Pol Pot’s strategic decision to financially and politically cut off Cambodia from the rest of the world during his rule. But the Nixon Administration was far from oblivious about Cambodia and the Khmer Rouge. In 1969, as the Khmer Rouge was gaining supporters and increasing in power, President Nixon ordered Operation Menu—an aggressive aerial bombing campaign of the Cambodian countryside to disrupt “suspected” Viet Cong bases and supply routes in Cambodia during the Vietnam War. Commencing with Operation Breakfast (and continuing with distastefully named and covertly conducted Operations Snack, Lunch, Dinner, Dessert and Supper), the bombing campaign ended with over half a million bombs dropped.

In the end, Operation Menu proved of little use for the U.S. in the war with Vietnam. But the little the bombing campaign had in military gain it made up in human cost: hundreds of thousands of ordinary Cambodians were killed as a result of Operation Menu. These numbers are in addition to the 2 million who died as a result of the genocide. Worse still, the U.S. bombing only fueled the Khmer Rouge’s anti-U.S. sentiments and hastened the civil war that led to the Cambodian genocide in 1975.

The systematic, swift brutality with which the Khmer Rouge conducted its genocidal campaign is hard to fathom, even for the veteran international justice advocate. A variety of the Khmer Rouge’s torture methods can be seen today at the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum. The Museum was built on the grounds of a high school turned torture camp also known as S-21. Its chief operator? None other than Duch. At least 17,000 Cambodians were taken to Duch’s torture camp, where they were lined up for photographs before and often after being tortured. I came across some of the after-shots in a book called “Crimes of War” and could not sleep for three days. There is something indescribably evil about subjecting a person to torture and then memorializing their petrified agony with a picture. Author Samantha Power describes the pictures in a passage of her widely acclaimed book, The Problem from Hell: America and the Age of Genocide:

“The photos had been taken of boys and girls and men and women of all shapes, shades, and sizes. Some had been beaten; others seem clean-shaven and calm. Some look crazed, others resigned. As in the German concentration camps, all wear numbers. And all display a last gasp of individuality in their eyes. It is with these eyes that they interrogate the interrogator. That they plead….That they accuse. That they accost. That they mock. And for those who visit [the Tuol Sleng Museum where these pictures are on display], that they remind.” (pg. 145)

Of the thousands of Cambodians who were taken to S-21, only ten (that’s one, zero) survived. The rest were taken to “killing fields,” where they were often hacked to death with machetes or hatchets in order to save bullets. The most infamous killing field, Choeung Ek, was just a short distance from S-21. After the fall of the Khmer Rouge, nearly 9,000 bodies were found in Choeung Ek’s mass grave sites.

In November 1978, Vietnam invaded Cambodia and the Khmer Rouge was overthrown. The Vietnamese occupation of Cambodia was marked by continued violence and warfare well into the 1980’s. After the Vietnmaese invasion, the Khmer Rouge continued to remain active as a political party with Pol Pot’s leadership. Yet notwithstanding emerging evidence of the worst genocide committed in the latter half of the twentieth century, American Cold War policies and continued hostility for Vietnam resulted in the U.S. siding with the Khmer Rouge immediately after the Vietnam invasion and throughout the 1980’s. U.S. support for the Khmer Rouge also played out in the United Nations (U.N.)—the Khmer Rouge government was able to survive successive U.N. Credentials Committee votes and retain its seat as the representative government of Cambodia at the U.N. It was not until after the end of the Cold War in 1989 that the U.S. revisited its Cambodia policies and decided that the strategic pawn to which it had reduced Cambodia was no longer “valuable.”

In the late 80’s, Cambodia and Vietnam began peace talks that ultimately led to the U.N.-monitored Paris Peace Accords in 1991. China and the U.S. were also “instrumental” in the talks. Yet even there the U.S. sided with the Khmer Rouge when it came to the language of the Accords—the U.S. pushed for the word “genocide” to be excluded from the final language of peace agreement. Thus when referring to the mass slaughter of 2 million Cambodians, the final text of the Accords reads, “the universally condemned policies and practices of the past.”

Cambodians have long known that the past, if not redressed, will taint the present and threaten the future. To that end, in 1997 the newly elected Cambodian government initiated efforts to establish the Khmer Rouge Tribunal (KRT) jointly with the U.N. The goal was simple: to finally hold surviving Khmer Rouge officials criminally liable for the heinous crimes they committed between 1975 and 1979. Patience has proven to be a Cambodian virtue—it would be another six years until the Cambodian government and the U.N. could agree on a hybrid tribunal made up of both Cambodian and international judges and laws. It took another three long years for both sides to appoint the judges, who were finally sworn in to office in July 2006. It has taken another year for the judges to indict the first of four surviving top Khmer Rouge officials. Two weeks ago on July 31^st, after three decades of waiting for vindication, the KRT charged 65-year old Duch for homicide, torture, forcible transfer and other grave crimes during the Cambodian genocide. Duch is one of four surviving Khmer Rouge leaders. A fifth Khmer Rouge leader, Ta Mok (also known as the “Butcher”) died last year while in custody. Duch’s trial is set to start next year.

When I heard of the indictments finally coming down against Duch last month, I felt a surge of satisfaction—and hope. Many have faulted the KRT for its slow pace, arguing that Duch’s indictment has come late—Pol Pot died of natural causes in 1998 and surviving Khmer Rouge leaders are growing old. But for the people of Cambodia, late is infinitely better than never. The proceedings against Duch entail more than just criminal charges—they are the promise of a nation moving forward with the strength and grace that comes from redressing the past.

Americans, too, must recall the past. For us, successive Administrations’ policies toward the Khmer Rouge and the genocide should be as haunting as the pictures and skulls at the Tuol Sleng Museum. Led by the “Red Scare” and its resulting policies, the U.S. took the wrong side before, during, and after the Cambodian genocide—we picked short-sighted policies based on fear and self-interest and in the end, the only thing we accomplished was further empowering a genocidal regime. Does that last bit sound eerily familiar? Take out Cambodia and replace it with Darfur—in the midst of the Darfur crisis raging into its fifth year, the Administration is looking away (if not actually exacerbating the violence) because our interests and that of the Sudanese government intersect more than they collide. There is no vindication for that.

When it comes to moving on from genocide, time alone is not enough. Cambodia, your chance for justice is here at long last. May your patient heart finally heal.

For more information on the KRT and Duch’s indictment, check out the news stories in IJ Wire.

For a slideshow of pictures taken of the Tuol Sleng Museum by my friend Steve in 2006, click here.

Time to Follow Brian on Darfur

When I met Brian Steidle in late 2005 at a conference in Santa Fe, New Mexico, I was struck by the singular gravity in his countenance. It seemed as if the collective anguish of an entire population thousands of miles away was etched in his quiet, earnest face. Brian had good reason to be somber: he had witnessed the Darfur genocide firsthand the year before.

Located in the Western part of Sudan, the Darfur region was once home to six million inhabitants known as the Fur people. By 2004, this previously unfamiliar place gained international infamy as an area devastated by a relentless, state-sponsored campaign of ethnic cleansing. Since January 2003, gangs of militia called the Janjaweed (meaning “men on horseback” in Arabic) have razed thousands of villages, systematically raped women and girls, stolen livestock and other forms of livelihood, and mutilated and killed men and boys. As many as 500 Darfurians die each day. Since the violence began, 400,000 Darfurians have been killed by the Janjaweed and 2.4 million have been displaced (often in neighboring and equally fragile Chad). Millions more are vulnerable to starvation and disease. Add up all the numbers and you’re left with nearly every person in an area the size of Texas affected by the violence.

The Sudanese government has long denied any involvement in the Darfur atrocities, but the international community knows otherwise. Still, for the first few years of the crisis, there was no solid proof of collaboration between the Sudanese government and the Janjaweed. That all changed this past spring—the International Criminal Court (ICC), which has been investigating the Darfur atrocities, has made a critical evidentiary link between Janjaweed leaders and the Sudanese government officials who support their crimes.

A U.S. Marine at the time, Brian went to Darfur in 2004 as one of three unarmed American observers accompanying the African Union’s (AU) understaffed and overstretched monitoring force on the ground. Once there, Brian took hundreds of pictures to document what he was witnessing: everyday Darfurians killed, maimed, or haunted by the death, mutilation, and murder of neighbors and family members. When he came back to the States, Brian brought the images with him and set out on a nationwide campaign to show his pictures and compel his own people and government to act. Last week a new documentary by Annie Sundberg and Ricki Stern of Break Thru Films was released, aptly titled “The Devil Came on Horseback”(you absolutely m.u.s.t. click on this link). The film captures Brian Steidle’s remarkable journey and shows audiences why Brian’s countenance is far more serious than most people his age. As for the rest of us, the film serves as a stark reminder of just how little has been done to stop a genocide that has gone for longer than a U.S. Presidential term.

Many Americans have followed in Brian’s footsteps. American students, journalists like Nicholas Kristof, activists, actors such as George Clooney, Mia Farrow, and Don Cheadle, and even officials like New Mexico’s governor (and Democratic Presidential candidate) Bill Richardson have traveled to Darfur and continue to galvanize American support to end the Darfur genocide. There are also grassroots organizations such as the Genocide Intervention Network (GI-Net) that work tirelessly to raise Americans’ awareness and push for concrete action on Darfur. With so many Americans seemingly engaged, why has the once emphatic promise of Never Again been reduced to over and over again in Darfur?

President Bush has referred to the ongoing atrocities in Darfur as genocide. But neither he nor his Administration has matched efforts such as Brian’s in the fight to end the Darfur crisis. In fact, some Administration actions have seemed downright shameful in the face of such violence and suffering.

In March 2005, over two years after the violence started, the United Nations Security Council (UNSC), on which the U.S. has a permanent seat, was preparing to consider referring the Darfur situation to the ICC under Chapter VII of the UN Charter and Article 13 of the ICC’s Rome Statute. A recently obtained Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request suggests that the Administration went out of its way to keep the ICC referral option off the table due to its opposition to the Court. When its efforts failed to pay off with both its European and African counterparts, the Administration was faced with either vetoing the resolution or putting its dislike of the ICC aside long enough to give Darfurians a real shot for justice and accountability at the Court. In the end, the U.S. abstained from the vote altogether, along with permanent member China and rotating members Algeria and Brazil. Resolution 1593 passed on March 31, 2005, enabling the first-ever permanent international criminal court to do what no one has thus far done for Darfur: go after those most responsible for the worst atrocities.

Since the March 2005 referral, the ICC has conducted a painstaking investigation of the Darfur atrocities, often from refugee camps in neighboring Chad (the Sudanese government won’t allow Court officials in Darfur for obvious reasons). This past spring marked a milestone for Darfur as the ICC issued two arrest warrants for Ahmad Harun, a Sudanese Minister (of humanitarian affairs, no less) and Janjaweed leader Ali Kushayb. The men are accused of committing 51 counts of war crimes and crimes against humanity against the people of Darfur. And the investigation has just started gaining momentum. Chief Prosecutor Luis Moreno-Ocampo has made clear that he will go wherever the evidence takes him. Most importantly, Mr. Moreno-Ocampo has presented evidence that clearly links Harun and Kushayb in crimes committed between 2003 and 2004, meaning that the Sudanese government is complicit, if not outright orchestrating, the Darfur genocide.

Notwithstaning public declarations of the Darfur atrocities as genocide, senior Administration officials have failed to prioritize Darfur in U.S. foreign policy. A case in point: In 2006, U.S. officials met with Senior Security Minister Salih Gosh at least once on U.S. soil to discuss Sudanese cooperation with the Administration’s “war on terror” abroad. Mr. Gosh lucked out—the Genocide Accountablity Act that would have likely allowed for his capture and prosecution by U.S. courts was only introduced this year and has yet to pass the House of Representatives. Mr. Gosh is widely believed to be the No. 2 in command in Sudan and deeply involved in the ongoing campaign of ethnic cleansing in Darfur.

Last week the UNSC finally passed a long overdue resolution authorizing a 26,000 member strong hybrid UN/AU force to be deployed to Darfur. The catch? No cooperation with the ICC on executing its arrest warrants against Harun, Kushayb, and any perpetrators identified in the future. While the much stronger hybrid UN/AU force is sorely needed on the ground, the resolution has come at a maddeningly slow pace and has lacked any strong leadership from the Administration. Indeed, the Administration has dragged its feet on Darfur for so long that the use of the G-word by President Bush rings hollow and seems terribly disingenuous in light of the ongoing violence. Even as the Darfur case is at the ICC, the U.S. has done little to assist the Court and show a true commitment to ensuring peace, justice, and accountability for Darfurians. Simply put, the Administration’s largely discounted, highly counterproductive policy toward the ICC has resulted in a mind-boggling “come to us approach” executed in large part by the Department of State. Of course this isn’t the official Administration position—after all, Mr. John B. Bellinger III, the Legal Advisor to the Secretary of State, has recently been credited with expressing U.S. “openness” to Darfur-related U.S. assistance to the ICC. But in between the lines is the unofficial truth when it comes to U.S. support (of which there has been none thus far) on the ICC’s Darfur case. Pay close attention to the words I’ve bolded in an excerpt from a recent speech Mr. Bellinger gave in The Hague, the Netherlands:

“We did not oppose the Security Council’s referral of the Darfur situation to the ICC, and have expressed our willingness to consider assisting the ICC Prosecutor’s Darfur work should we receive an appropriate request.”

Mr. Bellinger, Darfurians don’t owe us a thank you for not vetoing the ICC referral. By abstaining from the vote, we only succeeded in showing the world that we are more paranoid about an ill-conceived threat from the ICC than we are committed to universal principles of justice, fairness, and accountability. And Darfurians definitely don’t have time for the “come to us” approach we’re favoring these days. This is a genocide, not a game of political strategery. The ICC is a legal body, not a political institution. That means that we should assist the ICC investigation in any way we can—from turning over satellite imagery of the Janjaweed’s aerial bombardments of Darfur villages with Sudanese government gunships to re-prioritizing the conflict as a whole in our foreign policy.

Even the staunchest ICC opponents must concede that specific assistance on the Darfur case is not the same as blanket approval for the ICC as an institution. With the Sudanese government transplanting new populations in place of the ones it has slaughtered in Darfur, time and evidence is running out. Did we not swear Never Again after World War II and the Rwandan and Bosnian genocides? How many more deaths must there be before our government’s inaction makes us complicit in genocide?

Thankfully, Congress has been much more proactive in addressing and redressing the Darfur crisis. Last week, with the help of groups like GI-Net, the House of Representatives passed the Darfur Accountability and Divestment Act (DADA) with 152 co-sponsors and a vote of 418 to 1 (don’t ask about the lone dissenter—(s)he gets to stay anonymous). GI-Net summed up the Bill best in its July 31st press release:

[…]this bill will authorize and protect states that divest from the culpable companies that support the genocidal government of Sudan and refuse to change their behavior..Despite existing bans prohibiting U.S. companies from conducting business operations in Sudan, institutions and even individuals throughout the United States are indirectly fueling the genocide by investing in foreign companies complicit in the bloodshed. The Darfur Accountability and Divestment Act will establish a federal list of the culpable foreign companies to better inform Americans regarding their investments. Furthermore, the bill forbids the U.S. federal government from entering into or renewing contracts with companies included on that list and authorizes state and local governments to do the same. H.R. 180 also protects these state and local governments and asset managers who divest. Since the government of Sudan relies heavily on foreign investment to fund its military, divestment is an effective strategic move against the crisis.”

DADA is now in the Senate and it’s time for us–everyday Americans like Brian Steidle—to take a stand. The dedicated folks at GI-NET have set up a hotline for us to call and tell our Senators to pass DADA: 1-800-GENOCIDE.

Brian Steidle has done his part ten times over to push for an end to the Darfur violence, but he is still one American. There are 300 million of us in this country, and we can’t afford to drag our feet. I’m not asking you to go to Darfur. I’m asking for a one-minute phone call. Never Again starts with us, and it starts now. After you call your Senator, check out the listings for Brian’s documentary. As they say, a picture is worth a thousands words. In Brian’s case, these pictures may be worth a thousand lives. Since the time you started reading this blog posting, three Darfurians have died from violence, starvation, or disease.

For the latest news on Darfur, check out my IJ Wire.

For my briefing paper, “No Peace without Justice: U.S. Must Cooperate with ICC on Darfur,” co-authored with colleague Julia Fitzpatrick, click here.

For more information on the Darfur crisis, check out these organizations’ websites:

Genocide Intervention Network

Save Darfur Coalition

Enough Project

 

 

The Week in Darfur

As much as I’d like to think that the two Sudanese suspects thus far identified by the International Criminal Court (ICC) are dead men walking, the Los Angeles Times’ Maggie Farley reports otherwise. In D.C., the House of Representatives overwhelmingly passed the Darfur Divestment and Accountability Act. Across the Atlantic, the Independent reports on the newest evidence submitted to the ICC: 500 drawings from children who fled the Darfur violence into neighboring Chad. And Conor Foley of the Guardian finally sets the record straight on why politics and justice at the ICC don’t mix.

Check out these latest Darfur news stories in IJ Wire.