There are only so many different ways that you can write: Genocide is happening!!! We must do something!!!
In contrast, there are an endless number of ways to put off doing something. If you are a country – let’s say the most powerful country in the world – you might be distracted while your resources are monopolized by other wars or you might find it inconvenient to confront an emerging global rival (China) who effectively nips all diplomatic efforts in the bud.
If you are the president of that most powerful country, you might be unwilling to spend any amount of your dwindling political capital on engaging in a crisis only a small, if noisy, constituency would recognize – especially when that noisy constituency would then simply push for you to do more.
Most of us are not a powerful country or its president, but we are capable of coming up with plenty of wonderful excuses of our own. “I don’t have time” is a favorite. “I don’t really know what’s going on” works just as well. There is that most tempting “There are lots of other problems closer to home – crime, poverty, etc. – that more directly impact my life.”
But perhaps most usefully, there is “I know what’s going on and I’m not happy about it, but what difference can I really make?” It is this excuse, the excuse of paralysis due to the magnitude of the problem that explains why a country filled with people who are sickened by genocide cannot muster the will to effectively stop one as it unfolds.
If you have read my column before, you know about Darfur. Here is what is going on there now – seven months after a “peace agreement” was signed by many of the parties involved. Jan Egeland, the recently-resigned UN humanitarian chief was expelled from Sudan and has described the expansion of the conflict and humanitarian suffering into neighboring Chad and Central African Republic as a “free fall.” Meanwhile, as fighting has reintensified, humanitarian operations are being scaled back and the UN has pulled many workers out of the region. On the peacekeeping front, the UN has approved the deployment of a peacekeeping force, but that deployment has been held up indefinitely due to an unwillingness on the part of the Sudanese government to accept them. In this bizarro world, it appears that the perpetrators of genocide get to decide for themselves when they will be confronted.
As this African tragedy drags on into a fresh new year, it is time to dust the confetti off our shoulders and re-deliver an important message to anyone who can hear: Genocide is happening!! We must do something!! The message is not new, but it is as critical as ever to deliver it again and again as global leaders wait for Darfur to slip back off the radar.
Today, you can contact members of the spanking new Congress and tell them to put Darfur high on the agenda by pushing for a NATO-enforced no-fly zone over Sudan. (you can check how your representatives score on Darfur by visiting http://www.darfurscores.org/) You can contact local and national media to tell them it is as much their responsibility to keep the public informed about unfolding genocide as it is to sensationalize the information that passes for news on many stations. You can contact your friends, keep them informed, and encourage them to contact their own representatives. You can sign up to receive updates from anti-genocide advocacy groups, like www.savedarfur.org and www.genocideintervention.net, to help them build a larger lobbying constituency.
These actions may seem feeble and insignificant in the face of the depths of suffering in Darfur, but they are the small acts upon which bigger acts must be built. No single call will end the genocide. Even a million calls may not press our government to act. But each call builds momentum toward action and action must be taken.
After all, Genocide is happening!! We must do something!!
Showing posts with label AntiGenocide. Show all posts
Showing posts with label AntiGenocide. Show all posts
January 01, 2007
September 15, 2006
Dallaire's New Mission
When Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire speaks of Rwanda, his voice quickens. His tone hardens. The room he is in becomes silent as his audience can feel the emotion barely hidden beneath the general’s tough exterior. He poses unanswerable questions about the decisions his soldiers confronted in Rwanda. He spares no party – including himself – in assessing how the world failed to act to stop the Rwandan genocide. On other topics, Dallaire can be charming, even humorous, but on Rwanda, there is only passion.
Underlying Dallaire’s persistent frustration, perhaps even shame, about the inaction of the global community is a belief that, as he puts it, “no human is any more human than any other.” He believes this despite the glaring contradictions in resources committed to confronting crises around the world. He believes it despite his own experience in Rwanda, where the slaughter of 800,000 was deemed unworthy of the risk of casualties from peacekeeping nations.
Dallaire tells of a young boy he encountered on a road in Rwanda amid huts filled with decomposing bodies. Fearful of a trap, Dallaire approached cautiously. Beyond the malnourished body and filthy rags, Dallaire recognized in the boy’s eyes the same thing he had seen in his own four-year-old son’s eyes when he had departed for Rwanda. They were the eyes of a human child. In the boy’s eyes and those of his son, Dallaire recognized a common humanity that sustains his belief that no human life is worth more or less than any other.
Today, Dallaire’s beliefs are being challenged, again in Africa. Although the global community has been more active in Darfur than it was in Rwanda, the results have been modest.
At the end of this month, the African Union force that has been monitoring the situation in Darfur, Sudan, will officially run out of funds and abandon the region. Although no one believes that the African Union force is adequate to fully stop the violence in Darfur, their removal would result in even greater lawlessness and suffering. The United Nations has approved the deployment of a mission in Darfur – a mission far short of the 44,000 peacekeepers Dallaire recommends – but that mission will not deploy without the consent of the Sudanese government. The Sudanese government, of course, has been complicit in the effort to displace or eliminate the African tribes suffering the most in Darfur, and the government has steadfastly refused to accept any non-African troops.
Witnessing the lack of will by the developed world to sustain the attention and pressure necessary to take effective action in Darfur, Dallaire recognizes the same double standard he encountered in Rwanda. Where, he wonders, is the rule that says it is OK to send 63,000 troops to the former Yugoslavia to contain suffering there, but it is completely unreasonable to send 44,000 troops to Darfur? Who makes the decision, he asks bluntly, that it is not worth a single soldier’s life to save thousands of lives just because of where those who will die live or what they look like?
Perhaps Dallaire is being naïve. After all, it is self-interest that drives foreign policy, not some overriding altruistic concern for humanity. Yet, how could Dallaire be naïve after witnessing the most horrific consequences of strictly self-interested foreign policy, the most rapid genocide in human history? To Dallaire, these consequences are morally unacceptable and he has made it his mission to call the world out on its policies.
When Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire speaks, people listen. We listen because Dallaire refuses to remain in the comfortable world of pragmatic foreign policy, wading instead into the complex realm of morality. We listen because we all know that on a fundamental level, he is right – no human life is more valuable than any other. But mostly, we listen because although Dallaire has seen the very worst of humanity, he refuses to surrender hope of a peaceful future and offers us tools with which to get there.
Check out my article in the Memphis Commercial Appeal previewing Dallaire's visit.
Underlying Dallaire’s persistent frustration, perhaps even shame, about the inaction of the global community is a belief that, as he puts it, “no human is any more human than any other.” He believes this despite the glaring contradictions in resources committed to confronting crises around the world. He believes it despite his own experience in Rwanda, where the slaughter of 800,000 was deemed unworthy of the risk of casualties from peacekeeping nations.
Dallaire tells of a young boy he encountered on a road in Rwanda amid huts filled with decomposing bodies. Fearful of a trap, Dallaire approached cautiously. Beyond the malnourished body and filthy rags, Dallaire recognized in the boy’s eyes the same thing he had seen in his own four-year-old son’s eyes when he had departed for Rwanda. They were the eyes of a human child. In the boy’s eyes and those of his son, Dallaire recognized a common humanity that sustains his belief that no human life is worth more or less than any other.
Today, Dallaire’s beliefs are being challenged, again in Africa. Although the global community has been more active in Darfur than it was in Rwanda, the results have been modest.
At the end of this month, the African Union force that has been monitoring the situation in Darfur, Sudan, will officially run out of funds and abandon the region. Although no one believes that the African Union force is adequate to fully stop the violence in Darfur, their removal would result in even greater lawlessness and suffering. The United Nations has approved the deployment of a mission in Darfur – a mission far short of the 44,000 peacekeepers Dallaire recommends – but that mission will not deploy without the consent of the Sudanese government. The Sudanese government, of course, has been complicit in the effort to displace or eliminate the African tribes suffering the most in Darfur, and the government has steadfastly refused to accept any non-African troops.
Witnessing the lack of will by the developed world to sustain the attention and pressure necessary to take effective action in Darfur, Dallaire recognizes the same double standard he encountered in Rwanda. Where, he wonders, is the rule that says it is OK to send 63,000 troops to the former Yugoslavia to contain suffering there, but it is completely unreasonable to send 44,000 troops to Darfur? Who makes the decision, he asks bluntly, that it is not worth a single soldier’s life to save thousands of lives just because of where those who will die live or what they look like?
Perhaps Dallaire is being naïve. After all, it is self-interest that drives foreign policy, not some overriding altruistic concern for humanity. Yet, how could Dallaire be naïve after witnessing the most horrific consequences of strictly self-interested foreign policy, the most rapid genocide in human history? To Dallaire, these consequences are morally unacceptable and he has made it his mission to call the world out on its policies.
When Lt. Gen. Romeo Dallaire speaks, people listen. We listen because Dallaire refuses to remain in the comfortable world of pragmatic foreign policy, wading instead into the complex realm of morality. We listen because we all know that on a fundamental level, he is right – no human life is more valuable than any other. But mostly, we listen because although Dallaire has seen the very worst of humanity, he refuses to surrender hope of a peaceful future and offers us tools with which to get there.
Check out my article in the Memphis Commercial Appeal previewing Dallaire's visit.
September 14, 2006
Facing Horrors of Rwanda Offers Crucial History Lesson
(published in Memphis Commercial Appeal - September 14, 2006)
Twelve years after the Rwandan genocide, Romeo Dallaire is still on a mission, and tonight he will bring that mission to Memphis.
Rather than allowing himself and his traumatic experience as military head of the United Nations mission in Rwanda to fade into history, Dallaire insists on reminding us of the fastest genocide in human history, a three-month period in which 800,000 Rwandans were murdered. By refusing to let go of his horrific memories from Rwanda, Dallaire has embarked on a new mission: to force the global community to confront the reasons for and consequences of inaction in the face of unfolding genocide.
In 1993, Lt. Gen. Dallaire, a Canadian officer, was deployed as head of a multi-national United Nations force charged with enforcing a fragile peace in Rwanda, an obscure African country he could not locate on a map. In early 1994, Dallaire began to understand that rather than working to sustain that peace, some elements within Rwanda were instead plotting the "extermination" of the country's Tutsi population. Dallaire pleaded with his superiors for the authority to act early to impede this genocidal plot, only to be told that such action was beyond the scope of his mandate.
Several months later, as extremists ruthlessly executed the very plot of which Dallaire had been warned, Dallaire was constrained by limited supplies, manpower and authority to effectively confront the perpetrators. Despite the limitations imposed upon him by others, the result, 800,000 murdered Rwandans, weighs heavily on Dallaire's conscience.
After leaving Rwanda, Dallaire attempted to return to a normal life, but how could he return to the world he knew before, knowing that it was the global community who forced him to sit with his hands behind his back as 800,000 human beings were slaughtered in front of him?
The immediate effect upon Dallaire was a severe case of post traumatic stress disorder that ultimately led to a medical discharge from the Canadian military and even a desperate suicide attempt. Fortunately, Dallaire has emerged from this dark period with the energy to face the history of genocide in Rwanda and apply its lessons to crises of today.
When Dallaire speaks, it is not simply to recap the history of the Rwandan genocide, although he certainly has a unique perspective and unflinching willingness to discuss the horrors he witnessed there. Instead, Dallaire tells his stories from Rwanda to expose the flaws in the global response (or lack thereof) to urge his audience to act to address those flaws and prevent their repetition elsewhere, such as in Darfur, Sudan.
In this way, Dallaire is an embodiment of the mission of Facing History and Ourselves, an organization aimed at using events of history as a lens to examine problems confronting students and communities today. Through teacher training, student symposia and community events, such as the visit by Dallaire, Facing History encourages individuals to understand how human behavior and individual choice play a critical role in shaping history.
Facing History has even reached Rwanda itself, having been part of an effort to create a curriculum for teaching Rwandan history despite a moratorium on teaching that history imposed in the aftermath of the genocide. Facing History is now charged with training Rwandan teachers to instruct students on this most sensitive topic in a way that lays a foundation for a future generation that will not have to endure such crimes. Thus far, Facing History has trained an ethnically and geographically diverse group of more than 150 Rwandan teachers, demonstrating its understanding that while the world can learn a great deal from the genocide in Rwanda, it is Rwandans themselves that must most directly confront their own history.
In the case of Rwanda, Romeo Dallaire is at once the history we must face, having played a critical role in the Rwanda narrative, and a powerful, moral voice on how that history applies to today's world.
His continued refusal to fade away serves as a living, breathing testament to what can happen when the world sits idly by in the face of crimes against humanity. This is Dallaire's current mission and the world is fortunate that he remains strong enough to accept it.
Twelve years after the Rwandan genocide, Romeo Dallaire is still on a mission, and tonight he will bring that mission to Memphis.
Rather than allowing himself and his traumatic experience as military head of the United Nations mission in Rwanda to fade into history, Dallaire insists on reminding us of the fastest genocide in human history, a three-month period in which 800,000 Rwandans were murdered. By refusing to let go of his horrific memories from Rwanda, Dallaire has embarked on a new mission: to force the global community to confront the reasons for and consequences of inaction in the face of unfolding genocide.
In 1993, Lt. Gen. Dallaire, a Canadian officer, was deployed as head of a multi-national United Nations force charged with enforcing a fragile peace in Rwanda, an obscure African country he could not locate on a map. In early 1994, Dallaire began to understand that rather than working to sustain that peace, some elements within Rwanda were instead plotting the "extermination" of the country's Tutsi population. Dallaire pleaded with his superiors for the authority to act early to impede this genocidal plot, only to be told that such action was beyond the scope of his mandate.
Several months later, as extremists ruthlessly executed the very plot of which Dallaire had been warned, Dallaire was constrained by limited supplies, manpower and authority to effectively confront the perpetrators. Despite the limitations imposed upon him by others, the result, 800,000 murdered Rwandans, weighs heavily on Dallaire's conscience.
After leaving Rwanda, Dallaire attempted to return to a normal life, but how could he return to the world he knew before, knowing that it was the global community who forced him to sit with his hands behind his back as 800,000 human beings were slaughtered in front of him?
The immediate effect upon Dallaire was a severe case of post traumatic stress disorder that ultimately led to a medical discharge from the Canadian military and even a desperate suicide attempt. Fortunately, Dallaire has emerged from this dark period with the energy to face the history of genocide in Rwanda and apply its lessons to crises of today.
When Dallaire speaks, it is not simply to recap the history of the Rwandan genocide, although he certainly has a unique perspective and unflinching willingness to discuss the horrors he witnessed there. Instead, Dallaire tells his stories from Rwanda to expose the flaws in the global response (or lack thereof) to urge his audience to act to address those flaws and prevent their repetition elsewhere, such as in Darfur, Sudan.
In this way, Dallaire is an embodiment of the mission of Facing History and Ourselves, an organization aimed at using events of history as a lens to examine problems confronting students and communities today. Through teacher training, student symposia and community events, such as the visit by Dallaire, Facing History encourages individuals to understand how human behavior and individual choice play a critical role in shaping history.
Facing History has even reached Rwanda itself, having been part of an effort to create a curriculum for teaching Rwandan history despite a moratorium on teaching that history imposed in the aftermath of the genocide. Facing History is now charged with training Rwandan teachers to instruct students on this most sensitive topic in a way that lays a foundation for a future generation that will not have to endure such crimes. Thus far, Facing History has trained an ethnically and geographically diverse group of more than 150 Rwandan teachers, demonstrating its understanding that while the world can learn a great deal from the genocide in Rwanda, it is Rwandans themselves that must most directly confront their own history.
In the case of Rwanda, Romeo Dallaire is at once the history we must face, having played a critical role in the Rwanda narrative, and a powerful, moral voice on how that history applies to today's world.
His continued refusal to fade away serves as a living, breathing testament to what can happen when the world sits idly by in the face of crimes against humanity. This is Dallaire's current mission and the world is fortunate that he remains strong enough to accept it.
July 21, 2006
A Genocide By Any Other Name
During the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, officials in the Clinton administration went to great lengths to avoid calling the unfolding tragedy “genocide.” Rather, they chose the term “acts of genocide” apparently in order to avoid any legal obligation under the 1948 Genocide Convention to take action to stop any activity deemed “genocide.” When asked how many acts of genocide it takes to make genocide, a State Department spokeswoman answered meekly, “I’m just not in a position to answer that question.” The semantic effort was largely successful as the Clinton administration did virtually nothing to stop the murder of 800,000 Rwandans.
Human rights scholars took from this experience the lesson that language mattered – because the Clinton administration was so intent on not saying “genocide,” the scholars concluded that had the word been uttered, action would have followed.
The wisdom of that lesson has been put to the test as another tragedy unfolds in Africa, this time in Sudan. Applying the Rwanda lesson, activists pushed strenuously for the Bush administration to classify as genocide the killing and looting of African tribes in Darfur by government-backed militias. On July 22, 2004, the U.S. Congress declared that genocide was occurring in Darfur. Two months later, the Bush administration agreed, as Secretary of State Colin Powell declared “genocide has been committed….and genocide may still be occurring.” The human rights community celebrated these declarations with the hopes that significant action would follow.
Two years have now passed since the congressional declaration and although the Bush administration has taken action, far more action than did Clinton in Rwanda, dreadful and dangerous conditions persist in Darfur.
The top United Nations enjoy to Darfur, Jan Pronck, recently observed that two months after a May 5 peace agreement among many of the parties involved, the situation is bad as it had been two months before the agreement. The UN has had to halt humanitarian assistance in some parts of Darfur because aid workers have been killed, and the violence is spilling into neighboring Chad. The implementation of the peace agreement has been generally nonexistent and the African Union force deployed in the region is set to run out of funding this fall, leaving a several month gap before UN forces take over no earlier than January 2007.
In short, the experience of Darfur has proven the limitations of the lesson of Rwanda that language matters. (Apparently, the UN did not get this memo as they have resisted declaring Darfur a “genocide,” instead asserting in Clinton-esque fashion “in some instances individuals may commit acts with genocidal intent.” This statement, of course, begs the question – how many acts with genocidal intent make genocide?) Further, the failure of states to take action to stop what has been labeled “genocide” reinforces the fundamental weakness of all voluntary international agreements, such as the Genocide Convention – enforcement. Unless there are consequences for failing to abide by a legal obligation to act under the Genocide Convention, tempered action like that taken in Darfur is the likely outcome.
Not that the Bush administration’s declaration of “genocide” didn’t matter. To be sure, it represented a turning point in American engagement on the issue and put the U.S. at the forefront of the effort to rein in the killing. However, it was far from the trigger to prompt action sufficient to stop the genocide, as the Clinton administration feared.
It seems that each time a new genocide unfolds, the lessons of genocides past are rendered obsolete. The world apparently has no shortage of ways to avoid effective intervention. What then are the lessons of Darfur?
The most important lesson is that publicity and an active mobilization of a constituency against genocide can happen and can move lawmakers to act. Heroic work by human rights activist turned Darfur into a somewhat mainstream topic and paved the way for the action that has been taken. Second, Darfur has shown an enormous variety of ways that non-government actors can act. The lesson that governments cannot be relied upon to act in genocidal situations has been internalized as a large group of aid organizations and volunteers have pushed the Darfur agenda further than any government would be willing to. Finally, the world has learned that semantics that arguably create legal obligations do not stop genocides. It is action that stops “genocide,” “acts of genocide,” “acts with genocidal intent,” and all things in between.
Human rights scholars took from this experience the lesson that language mattered – because the Clinton administration was so intent on not saying “genocide,” the scholars concluded that had the word been uttered, action would have followed.
The wisdom of that lesson has been put to the test as another tragedy unfolds in Africa, this time in Sudan. Applying the Rwanda lesson, activists pushed strenuously for the Bush administration to classify as genocide the killing and looting of African tribes in Darfur by government-backed militias. On July 22, 2004, the U.S. Congress declared that genocide was occurring in Darfur. Two months later, the Bush administration agreed, as Secretary of State Colin Powell declared “genocide has been committed….and genocide may still be occurring.” The human rights community celebrated these declarations with the hopes that significant action would follow.
Two years have now passed since the congressional declaration and although the Bush administration has taken action, far more action than did Clinton in Rwanda, dreadful and dangerous conditions persist in Darfur.
The top United Nations enjoy to Darfur, Jan Pronck, recently observed that two months after a May 5 peace agreement among many of the parties involved, the situation is bad as it had been two months before the agreement. The UN has had to halt humanitarian assistance in some parts of Darfur because aid workers have been killed, and the violence is spilling into neighboring Chad. The implementation of the peace agreement has been generally nonexistent and the African Union force deployed in the region is set to run out of funding this fall, leaving a several month gap before UN forces take over no earlier than January 2007.
In short, the experience of Darfur has proven the limitations of the lesson of Rwanda that language matters. (Apparently, the UN did not get this memo as they have resisted declaring Darfur a “genocide,” instead asserting in Clinton-esque fashion “in some instances individuals may commit acts with genocidal intent.” This statement, of course, begs the question – how many acts with genocidal intent make genocide?) Further, the failure of states to take action to stop what has been labeled “genocide” reinforces the fundamental weakness of all voluntary international agreements, such as the Genocide Convention – enforcement. Unless there are consequences for failing to abide by a legal obligation to act under the Genocide Convention, tempered action like that taken in Darfur is the likely outcome.
Not that the Bush administration’s declaration of “genocide” didn’t matter. To be sure, it represented a turning point in American engagement on the issue and put the U.S. at the forefront of the effort to rein in the killing. However, it was far from the trigger to prompt action sufficient to stop the genocide, as the Clinton administration feared.
It seems that each time a new genocide unfolds, the lessons of genocides past are rendered obsolete. The world apparently has no shortage of ways to avoid effective intervention. What then are the lessons of Darfur?
The most important lesson is that publicity and an active mobilization of a constituency against genocide can happen and can move lawmakers to act. Heroic work by human rights activist turned Darfur into a somewhat mainstream topic and paved the way for the action that has been taken. Second, Darfur has shown an enormous variety of ways that non-government actors can act. The lesson that governments cannot be relied upon to act in genocidal situations has been internalized as a large group of aid organizations and volunteers have pushed the Darfur agenda further than any government would be willing to. Finally, the world has learned that semantics that arguably create legal obligations do not stop genocides. It is action that stops “genocide,” “acts of genocide,” “acts with genocidal intent,” and all things in between.
April 28, 2006
Don't Just Remember. Act!
During the month of April, the world commemorated the victims of some of humanity's most heinous offenses. April 6 was Remembrance Day in Rwanda and just this week, April 25 marked Yom Hashoah, or Holocaust Remembrance Day. These remembrance days provide the opportunity to reflect on the tragedies of the past and mourn the millions of innocent human beings murdered in the last century.
Unfortunately, remembering is not enough. Even as we recall the horrific crimes of genocide that marred the twentieth century, the seeds for a future remembrance day are being cultivated. The current situation in the Darfur region of Sudan has already been labeled by President Bush and others as "genocide," making it the first genocide of this new century. However, the inaction of the world community that marked previous responses -- and is so condemned each remembrance day -- is sadly being repeated.
The campaign by the government-backed Arab militias, known as janjaweed, to wipe out villages and populations of African tribes in Darfur -- tribes, it should be noted that, like their attackers, are overwhelmingly Muslim -- is now over two years old. Hundreds of villages have been destroyed. Hundreds of thousands of villagers have been forced to flee into unprotected refugee camps in neighboring Chad, camps the janjaweed have begun to terrorize as well. The estimated number of dead ranges from 100,000 to 400,000 from attacks, starvation, and disease.
Action in response to what has consistently been characterized as the world's greatest humanitarian crisis has been cautious and ineffective. Foreign governments took the word of the Sudanese government that the militias would be reined in, echoing Munich. An African Union peacekeeping force, sent with two few soldiers and too limited a mandate, made little difference, echoing Rwanda. The lessons that ought to be reinforced by the multiple remembrance days are being ignored.
To be fair, the United States government has probably done more to confront this genocide than any previous genocide -- a bar that was pathetically easy to surpass -- but every incremental step has been hard fought by a dedicated group of individual activists, lawmakers, and human rights organizations. A small victory came this week when a US-sponsored sanctions directive was issued by the United Nations Security Council to be imposed on four Sudanese military officers. On Sunday, this month of remembrance will conclude with a (hopefully) giant march in Washington, DC, to urge further and more useful action.
But progress is slow and every delay costs thousands of innocent lives. These are lives that the world will somberly commemorate in the future with some version of a Darfur Remembrance Day. The inability to confront an unfolding genocide even as we commemorate genocides of the past proves that remembrance is only one step. The other step toward truly making genocide prevention a global priority is action. And it is up to both citizens and governments to act.
While governments have the diplomatic, economic, and even military tools to make a greater impact, there is much that can be done on an individual level, beginning with lobbying the government to take a more proactive approach in Darfur. In addition, one could donate to organizations providing direct aid to victims and anti-genocide advocacy, or one could become educated about the situation and inform friends, or one could write letters to local editors asking for more consistent media coverage, and one could invite others to take these steps as well. These actions may not make headlines, but they are the small actions that ignite the engine of change.
As April concludes and some of the genocide remembrance days are behind us for another twelve months, it is time to take the second step toward genocide prevention. It is time to act to stop the genocide in Darfur. Now.
To take action today, join the Million Voices for Darfur being represented at this weekend's march. Check http://www.savedarfur.org/home or http://www.genocideintervention.net/ for updated information and more ideas for action.
Unfortunately, remembering is not enough. Even as we recall the horrific crimes of genocide that marred the twentieth century, the seeds for a future remembrance day are being cultivated. The current situation in the Darfur region of Sudan has already been labeled by President Bush and others as "genocide," making it the first genocide of this new century. However, the inaction of the world community that marked previous responses -- and is so condemned each remembrance day -- is sadly being repeated.
The campaign by the government-backed Arab militias, known as janjaweed, to wipe out villages and populations of African tribes in Darfur -- tribes, it should be noted that, like their attackers, are overwhelmingly Muslim -- is now over two years old. Hundreds of villages have been destroyed. Hundreds of thousands of villagers have been forced to flee into unprotected refugee camps in neighboring Chad, camps the janjaweed have begun to terrorize as well. The estimated number of dead ranges from 100,000 to 400,000 from attacks, starvation, and disease.
Action in response to what has consistently been characterized as the world's greatest humanitarian crisis has been cautious and ineffective. Foreign governments took the word of the Sudanese government that the militias would be reined in, echoing Munich. An African Union peacekeeping force, sent with two few soldiers and too limited a mandate, made little difference, echoing Rwanda. The lessons that ought to be reinforced by the multiple remembrance days are being ignored.
To be fair, the United States government has probably done more to confront this genocide than any previous genocide -- a bar that was pathetically easy to surpass -- but every incremental step has been hard fought by a dedicated group of individual activists, lawmakers, and human rights organizations. A small victory came this week when a US-sponsored sanctions directive was issued by the United Nations Security Council to be imposed on four Sudanese military officers. On Sunday, this month of remembrance will conclude with a (hopefully) giant march in Washington, DC, to urge further and more useful action.
But progress is slow and every delay costs thousands of innocent lives. These are lives that the world will somberly commemorate in the future with some version of a Darfur Remembrance Day. The inability to confront an unfolding genocide even as we commemorate genocides of the past proves that remembrance is only one step. The other step toward truly making genocide prevention a global priority is action. And it is up to both citizens and governments to act.
While governments have the diplomatic, economic, and even military tools to make a greater impact, there is much that can be done on an individual level, beginning with lobbying the government to take a more proactive approach in Darfur. In addition, one could donate to organizations providing direct aid to victims and anti-genocide advocacy, or one could become educated about the situation and inform friends, or one could write letters to local editors asking for more consistent media coverage, and one could invite others to take these steps as well. These actions may not make headlines, but they are the small actions that ignite the engine of change.
As April concludes and some of the genocide remembrance days are behind us for another twelve months, it is time to take the second step toward genocide prevention. It is time to act to stop the genocide in Darfur. Now.
To take action today, join the Million Voices for Darfur being represented at this weekend's march. Check http://www.savedarfur.org/home or http://www.genocideintervention.net/ for updated information and more ideas for action.
December 23, 2005
Dallaire Redux
In 1994, Canadian general Romeo Dallaire led a UN peacekeeping mission in Rwanda. General Dallaire, operating with a limited mandate and a small contingency of troops, pleaded with his superiors for the materials and authority to make a real difference stopping the genocidal slaughter unfolding outside his window. Instead, the UN, at the insistence of the United States, decided to do just the opposite, shrinking General Dallaire's mission and handcuffing him as the country descended into death.
After several years suffering beneath the memories of his failure in Rwanda and nearly committing suicide, General Dallaire has heroically become one of the world's most outspoken critics of inaction in the face of genocide. In 2004, as the 10th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide arrived, General Dallaire told his story around the world, pleading that the international community not repeat Rwanda's mistakes in Sudan. The heads of those who heard General Dallaire invariably nodded in agreement. This man is right, we all thought. We must do things differently next time.
Yet, here we are.
On December 31, American funding for the African Union force charged with maintaining some semblance of security in Darfur will expire. This week, Congress rebuffed attempts to reinstitute next year's funding of the mission, funding the United States pledged and that Congress scrapped from the budget last month. This is not a murky situation. We know that genocide is occurring. We know that the African Union is the only force that can help -- in fact, we supported sending them there in the first place. We know that the funding for the AU is necessary to continuing their mission of protecting refugees and discouraging further destruction of villages. We know that our funding will expire. Yet we have scrapped our previous commitment to provide a third of the budget and refuse to restore it, putting the AU's mission in grave jeopardy. Once again, we are pulling the rug from beneath the only viable force who can confront a desperate situation.
Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, who has championed the Darfur cause by visiting the region and keeping it high on the State Department's radar, desperately lobbied lawmakers to put the AU funding back into the defense appropriations bill for 2006. "We are in critical need of funding," Rice wrote to Congressional leaders, "to continue this mission at a robust level in 2006." However, Rice's pleas to restore the funding in the defense appropriations bill were ignored. While Democrats mustered the will to filibuster the bill due to a provision that would have allowed oil drilling in Alaska, there was hardly a peep from either party regarding the shameful failure to fund the very troops American leaders hailed as the answer to the unfolding tragedy in Sudan. Although to this point the United States has admirably provided $160 million to the mission, as well as logistical military assistance, such as airlifts, this act -- or failure to act -- by Congress threatens to undo any progress that has been made. By shirking our share of the burden, the U.S. not only deprived the AU of much-needed funding, it sent the signal to other donors -- the European Union -- that funding for this mission is not a high priority. How can we expect others to do their share when we fail to do our own?
Certainly, somewhere in Darfur there is an African Union general playing the role of Dallaire in this sequel. He is looking on the landscape beyond his window, seeing where he and his troops could provide valuable and vital protection to helpless civilians. He can see the attacks and gunfights his troops could stop -- or at least discourage -- if only they were given the tools and the authority. And he, like Dallaire, will soon get a call informing him that at this time of critical need -- for in a genocide, all times are of critical need -- his mission is not being enlarged, but limited. He, like Dallaire, will ask why, and he will learn that the international community, led by the American Congress, has determined that his mission is no longer worth funding. He, like Dallaire, will be handcuffed and forced to witness genocide. In a decade, he may travel the globe speaking to audiences of nodding heads and pleading that these mistakes not be repeated. Again. I hope this sequel never plays out, but after this week's failure by our Congress, I am not optimistic.
After several years suffering beneath the memories of his failure in Rwanda and nearly committing suicide, General Dallaire has heroically become one of the world's most outspoken critics of inaction in the face of genocide. In 2004, as the 10th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide arrived, General Dallaire told his story around the world, pleading that the international community not repeat Rwanda's mistakes in Sudan. The heads of those who heard General Dallaire invariably nodded in agreement. This man is right, we all thought. We must do things differently next time.
Yet, here we are.
On December 31, American funding for the African Union force charged with maintaining some semblance of security in Darfur will expire. This week, Congress rebuffed attempts to reinstitute next year's funding of the mission, funding the United States pledged and that Congress scrapped from the budget last month. This is not a murky situation. We know that genocide is occurring. We know that the African Union is the only force that can help -- in fact, we supported sending them there in the first place. We know that the funding for the AU is necessary to continuing their mission of protecting refugees and discouraging further destruction of villages. We know that our funding will expire. Yet we have scrapped our previous commitment to provide a third of the budget and refuse to restore it, putting the AU's mission in grave jeopardy. Once again, we are pulling the rug from beneath the only viable force who can confront a desperate situation.
Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice, who has championed the Darfur cause by visiting the region and keeping it high on the State Department's radar, desperately lobbied lawmakers to put the AU funding back into the defense appropriations bill for 2006. "We are in critical need of funding," Rice wrote to Congressional leaders, "to continue this mission at a robust level in 2006." However, Rice's pleas to restore the funding in the defense appropriations bill were ignored. While Democrats mustered the will to filibuster the bill due to a provision that would have allowed oil drilling in Alaska, there was hardly a peep from either party regarding the shameful failure to fund the very troops American leaders hailed as the answer to the unfolding tragedy in Sudan. Although to this point the United States has admirably provided $160 million to the mission, as well as logistical military assistance, such as airlifts, this act -- or failure to act -- by Congress threatens to undo any progress that has been made. By shirking our share of the burden, the U.S. not only deprived the AU of much-needed funding, it sent the signal to other donors -- the European Union -- that funding for this mission is not a high priority. How can we expect others to do their share when we fail to do our own?
Certainly, somewhere in Darfur there is an African Union general playing the role of Dallaire in this sequel. He is looking on the landscape beyond his window, seeing where he and his troops could provide valuable and vital protection to helpless civilians. He can see the attacks and gunfights his troops could stop -- or at least discourage -- if only they were given the tools and the authority. And he, like Dallaire, will soon get a call informing him that at this time of critical need -- for in a genocide, all times are of critical need -- his mission is not being enlarged, but limited. He, like Dallaire, will ask why, and he will learn that the international community, led by the American Congress, has determined that his mission is no longer worth funding. He, like Dallaire, will be handcuffed and forced to witness genocide. In a decade, he may travel the globe speaking to audiences of nodding heads and pleading that these mistakes not be repeated. Again. I hope this sequel never plays out, but after this week's failure by our Congress, I am not optimistic.
December 02, 2005
'Tis the Season
For the past two and a half years, genocide has been unfolding on our watch. It is not being done with the devastating speed of Rwanda’s 100 days in 1994 or with the machine-like efficiency of the Holocaust, but it is genocide nonetheless. Innocent people are being targeted and killed because of who they are and where they live. Villages are being destroyed. Women are being raped. Children are being slaughtered.
This genocide is happening – and has been happening – in Darfur, a Texas-sized region in western Sudan. Darfur is made up of peasants of African descent and nomadic herders of Arabic descent. African rebels, fed up with the economic and political suppression from the national government in Khartoum, rose up several years ago. The government’s response has been criminal. Rather than engage the rebels – either militarily or in dialogue – the government enlisted the services of an Arab militia, the Janjaweed, to simply wipe out the African tribes in their entirety. Often with logistical support from the national military, the Janjaweed have obliterated hundreds of African villages and displaced millions of people. The displaced live in unsecured refugee camps under the constant threat of a return of the Janjaweed. Several hundred thousand have been murdered already. It is a desperate tragedy.
And we are allowing it to continue. By “we” I do not mean our government, but each of us individually. Certainly our government could do more. So could we.
We are all, of course, against genocide. The deliberate targeting of one segment of a population for destruction is loathsome to us all. Yet, few of us take action consistent with these near-universal humanitarian sentiments. When it comes to taking action, we are struck by a host of paralyzing feelings. We feel separated (Sudan is far and I know nothing about the victims) and confused (I don’t know who is truly at fault in this complex situation). We feel helpless (I cannot make much of a difference anyway) and overwhelmed (there are so many organizations already taking action and I do not know which is best). These emotions combine to freeze us into collective inaction. This is part of the reason genocide persists: the good people of the world do not act to stop it.
Samantha Power, author of A Problem from Hell, the definitive account of American responses to genocide in the 20th century, and the best professor I ever had, often talks about a toolbox of potential responses to genocide. She notes that the American government could use the military intervention tool or the economic sanctions tool or the diplomatic pressure tool. Too often, however, the government makes an all-or-nothing decision on the military intervention tool and takes all the other tools off the table. Since we cannot take military action that would really stop genocide, the government seems to be saying, we cannot take any action at all.
As private citizens, we face the same dilemma. Since we cannot stop the genocide on our own – and none of us can – we do not feel that we can do anything at all. Writing a letter or giving a small donation seems a paltry and wholly insignificant response to the brutal murder of thousands of human beings. But it is not. We each have our own toolbox containing a wide spectrum of possible action. From one end of that spectrum, we could volunteer for an aid organization and actually go to Sudan to take action, but that is a highly unrealistic option for most of us. Alternatively, we could simply support financially the organizations who are doing good work in Darfur. Still, most of us do not have unlimited budgets to give endlessly. But we can all visit the websites of these organizations or sign up for their monthly newsletters. This allows the organizations to show leaders that there is a constituency of concerned citizens they are lobbying on behalf of.
We have political tools. We can write letters to our government representatives alerting them to our outrage that our government has not put more pressure on the Sudanese government to end the massacres or on the international community to take more forceful action, such as sanctions. We can vote those who do not act out of office. We have economic tools. We can support efforts to divest money away from companies doing business with the Sudanese government, sending the signal that if they will work with murderers, we will no longer work with them. We have social tools. We can write letters to our local newspapers expressing surprise that the genocide is not being adequately covered. We can learn more ourselves and inform our friends about this quiet genocide. Education and publicity are so important to keeping the pressure on our leaders to act.
In Ohio, Ginghamsburg Church created its own tool. Last year, the church began a remarkable campaign to spend less of Christmas presents and donate the savings to aid for Darfur. They raised $327,000 and are continuing the effort this year. In that spirit, I am donating a full night of Chanukah to Darfur advocacy. I have selected two organizations I will donate to and I will write to my representatives and the President voicing my outrage. As a Jewish person, I am particularly sensitive to the threat of genocide and I feel a special responsibility to ensure that this happens never again. During the Holocaust, it was the acts of individuals – not of slow-footed governments – that saved lives. We must follow in the tradition of those courageous citizens who provided hiding places or overlooked false passports to help fellow human beings survive. Taking a stand against the decimation of any group is important to us all. So long as genocide can happen to anybody, it can happen to anybody.
I am happy to provide resources or sample letters to anyone who would like to join in this effort this holiday season.
This genocide is happening – and has been happening – in Darfur, a Texas-sized region in western Sudan. Darfur is made up of peasants of African descent and nomadic herders of Arabic descent. African rebels, fed up with the economic and political suppression from the national government in Khartoum, rose up several years ago. The government’s response has been criminal. Rather than engage the rebels – either militarily or in dialogue – the government enlisted the services of an Arab militia, the Janjaweed, to simply wipe out the African tribes in their entirety. Often with logistical support from the national military, the Janjaweed have obliterated hundreds of African villages and displaced millions of people. The displaced live in unsecured refugee camps under the constant threat of a return of the Janjaweed. Several hundred thousand have been murdered already. It is a desperate tragedy.
And we are allowing it to continue. By “we” I do not mean our government, but each of us individually. Certainly our government could do more. So could we.
We are all, of course, against genocide. The deliberate targeting of one segment of a population for destruction is loathsome to us all. Yet, few of us take action consistent with these near-universal humanitarian sentiments. When it comes to taking action, we are struck by a host of paralyzing feelings. We feel separated (Sudan is far and I know nothing about the victims) and confused (I don’t know who is truly at fault in this complex situation). We feel helpless (I cannot make much of a difference anyway) and overwhelmed (there are so many organizations already taking action and I do not know which is best). These emotions combine to freeze us into collective inaction. This is part of the reason genocide persists: the good people of the world do not act to stop it.
Samantha Power, author of A Problem from Hell, the definitive account of American responses to genocide in the 20th century, and the best professor I ever had, often talks about a toolbox of potential responses to genocide. She notes that the American government could use the military intervention tool or the economic sanctions tool or the diplomatic pressure tool. Too often, however, the government makes an all-or-nothing decision on the military intervention tool and takes all the other tools off the table. Since we cannot take military action that would really stop genocide, the government seems to be saying, we cannot take any action at all.
As private citizens, we face the same dilemma. Since we cannot stop the genocide on our own – and none of us can – we do not feel that we can do anything at all. Writing a letter or giving a small donation seems a paltry and wholly insignificant response to the brutal murder of thousands of human beings. But it is not. We each have our own toolbox containing a wide spectrum of possible action. From one end of that spectrum, we could volunteer for an aid organization and actually go to Sudan to take action, but that is a highly unrealistic option for most of us. Alternatively, we could simply support financially the organizations who are doing good work in Darfur. Still, most of us do not have unlimited budgets to give endlessly. But we can all visit the websites of these organizations or sign up for their monthly newsletters. This allows the organizations to show leaders that there is a constituency of concerned citizens they are lobbying on behalf of.
We have political tools. We can write letters to our government representatives alerting them to our outrage that our government has not put more pressure on the Sudanese government to end the massacres or on the international community to take more forceful action, such as sanctions. We can vote those who do not act out of office. We have economic tools. We can support efforts to divest money away from companies doing business with the Sudanese government, sending the signal that if they will work with murderers, we will no longer work with them. We have social tools. We can write letters to our local newspapers expressing surprise that the genocide is not being adequately covered. We can learn more ourselves and inform our friends about this quiet genocide. Education and publicity are so important to keeping the pressure on our leaders to act.
In Ohio, Ginghamsburg Church created its own tool. Last year, the church began a remarkable campaign to spend less of Christmas presents and donate the savings to aid for Darfur. They raised $327,000 and are continuing the effort this year. In that spirit, I am donating a full night of Chanukah to Darfur advocacy. I have selected two organizations I will donate to and I will write to my representatives and the President voicing my outrage. As a Jewish person, I am particularly sensitive to the threat of genocide and I feel a special responsibility to ensure that this happens never again. During the Holocaust, it was the acts of individuals – not of slow-footed governments – that saved lives. We must follow in the tradition of those courageous citizens who provided hiding places or overlooked false passports to help fellow human beings survive. Taking a stand against the decimation of any group is important to us all. So long as genocide can happen to anybody, it can happen to anybody.
I am happy to provide resources or sample letters to anyone who would like to join in this effort this holiday season.
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