Accountability for Atrocities - The rise of the war crime tribunals

Following is a commentary on All the Missing Souls - A personal history of the war crimes tribunals by David Scheffer, Princeton University Press, 2012.

   This memoir is what it purports to be, that is an exhaustive in-house look at both the domestic and international bureaucratic processes that led to the creation of the various war crimes tribunals and ultimately the International Criminal Court.  The author David Scheffer was front and center of the U.S. effort, first on the staff of Madeline Albright, Ambassador to the United Nations, and then after she moved to the Department of State as the first ambassador-at-large for War Crimes Issues.  Sadly during his tenure there were a number of conflicts - Bosnia. Rwanda, East Timor, Sierra Leone and Cambodia - where atrocities were committed that required attention and justice.  In this book Scheffer wades through all of them noting specifically how justice mechanisms were established and how effective they ultimately became. 

   My specific interest was the Rwanda genocide, which, after the former Yugoslavia, was among the first of the terrible events that affirmed the need for an international justice mechanism.  As Scheffer explains the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda was hammered together piece by piece as all such complex international negotiations are replete with give and take, accommodation and steadfastness, largely by Security Council members.  Input and approval from the new post-genocide government of Rwanda was actively solicited because how could a tribunal function without access to the area where the crimes were committed and support of the concerned government?  Yet the international parties believed that the tribunal had to be located at a neutral site so as to preserve its impartiality and independence.   Although some of Rwanda’s points were incorporated into the statute, a final stumbling block was the death penalty.  Rwanda demanded that the penalty be included in the statute, but the non-capital punishment states (most of Europe) could not accede to that proposition.  So finally, Rwanda cast the only dissenting vote against the establishment of the tribunal. Nonetheless, the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) was established and Rwanda agreed to cooperate with it and did so with varying degrees of enthusiasm over the next fifteen years. 

 

   I was the U.S. ambassador to Rwanda from 1996 to 1999 and on the ground and on point as the U.S. government supported the ICTR with personnel and material. Chief among my tasks was to provide broad political support for the tribunal in conversations with senior government of Rwanda officials.  It was not always a comfortable position as I was whipsawed between the two entities, each of which found the other wanting in many respects.  For example, ICTR folks wanted greater access, inside information, better, faster and more thorough responses from government sources, etc.  Rwanda instinctively distrusted the United Nations, and all it entities, on account of the organization’s ineffectiveness in dealing with the genocide when it happened.  Rwanda thought the tribunal investigators did not sufficiently understand the genocide. They were alternatively viewed as heavy-handed or ineffective, but always too slow.  The fact that it took years just to begin trials did not build confidence.  Additionally, Rwandans thought the ICTR was not appreciative of the steps being taken by the government to render justice domestically. [i]  

   Some issues such as the protection of witnesses displayed cultural gaps.  ICTR wanted protection programs and re-locations for folks who would testify fearing that they would be threatened and intimidated by defendants’ supporters in their home areas. The government rejected that approach saying that witnesses should be publicly praised and applauded for stepping forward.  Their protection was the acknowledgement by the government and their neighbors that they did the right thing.   And so it went.  Interestingly enough the death penalty issue went away in time.  The domestic genocide statute provided for capital punishment.  Tens of thousands of prisoners were categorized under that law as to the degree of their involvement and responsibility for genocide. Thousands fell into the most heinous category.  Once the domestic court system was resurrected in 1997, trials began.  By April 1998 several dozen persons were convicted and sentenced to die.  The appeals court reviewed the sentences and upheld them. So in late April 1998 22 genocidaires were publicly executed.  As the government proclaimed at the time justice was done and seen to be done by the populace.  Those, however, were the last executions.  Even though many others were sentenced to capital punishment, no further executions were carried out.  About seven years later Rwanda abolished the death penalty.   

   Returning to Scheffer’s memoir. He was in Washington at the Department of State in April 1994 when the genocide occurred.  He describes in detail how the administration reacted to the events.  There was confusion about what was really happening, was it an expansion of civil war or what?  Accurate intelligence was non-existent and the embassy had been closed. The level of decision makers quickly evolved from those who knew Africa to political appointees with minimal foreign policy experience. Scheffer waltzes through all of this in useful detail as the U.S. government decided how to respond, mostly by working through the Security Council.  He does debunk the notion that the U.S. refused to call genocide genocide because of an unwillingness to act. He points out that the genocide convention only requires a response, which is not further defined, not a military intervention.  Scheffer said that Department officials were using the term genocide, with the Legal Advisor’s approval, long before it became an unfortunate episode with the press spokesperson who only had poorly written guidance to draw upon.   

   What is missing from Scheffer’s account is any elucidation of contact between the government of Belgium and the U.S.  More than a thousand Belgian troops constituted the firepower of UNAMIR, the UN Peace Keeping force on the ground in Rwanda when the genocide began.  On the second day of the genocide ten Belgian soldiers, who constituted a protection detail for prime minister designate Agathe Uwilingiyiama surrendered as ordered by their superior to genocidaire militants who came to kill (and did) Madame Uwilingiyimana and her family.  The soldiers were taken to the army camp where they were murdered and mutilated.  As a result Belgium decided to withdraw its troops from UNAMIR and quit Rwanda.  While it is certainly a “what if” question that can never be satisfactorily answered, if the thousand or so well armed, well equipped competent Belgian troops had stayed in Rwanda and made a stand, the genocide would certainly have taken a different turn.    So why didn’t anyone, especially the United States, pursue that option?  Why did all the courses of action considered - the ones that Scheffer discusses-  not include remonstrating with Belgium?  The answer apparently lies in a phone conversation, probably on April 7th or 8th, between Belgian Foreign Minister WIlly Claes and Secretary of State Warren Christopher.  Claes entreated for no negative reaction to Belgian’s decision to quit Rwanda. He played on the strength of Belgian American ties, NATO cooperation and general friendship.  Christopher, who may or may not have known what was afoot in Rwanda, reportedly agreed unhesitatingly to honor Claes’ request.   Apparently, word went out that Belgium was off the table.  Since by Sunday April 9th Belgian troops were beginning to leave, the issue quickly became moot.

   Returning again to the memoir. Some years later, in December 1997 Scheffer then sporting his ambassador-at-large hat accompanied now Secretary Albright to Rwanda.  It was a good visit characterized by frank and supportive dialogue. Yet the country was not yet peaceful as insurgent attacks still plagued the northern part of the nation.  Genocidaire irregulars who had previously operated out of the refugee  camps in neighboring Zaire continued to strike.  The evening before Albright departed a Hutu insurgent force assailed a Tutsi refugee camp near Gisenyi in the north.   These Tutsi refugees were Zairians who had been forced out of their homes across the border by the Rwandan Hutu genocidaires who had fled Rwanda, i.e. more ethnic cleansing; first to force them away and second to attack their refuge.  Several hundred died and hundreds more were wounded as the camp was torched.  I (and most everyone else) interpreted this attack as a remonstration to Secretary Albright’s visit.   She immediately sent Ambassador Scheffer back to Rwanda to investigate and to offer condolences.  David accurately describes our trip to Mudende and the horror we encountered there.  Although he does not mention me by name, I appear in the photo taken at Mudende.[ii]

   Scheffer’s book is mostly about the creation and the early operation of the various tribunals.  I would be the first to agree that the dispensation of justice by the international community through such mechanisms has great merit.  I do think that even though the expense was great and the results of the ICTR fairly meager, only about fifty people were ultimately tried, the exercise was valuable.  It was vital that the “big fish,” i.e. the planners, organizers and instigators of the Rwanda genocide be held to answer for their crimes.  That objective was achieved. 

   Rwandan specifics aside, the value of Scheffer’s book is to detail the history of how the world got to where it now is with respect to the delivery of justice for those implicated in the most egregious crimes against humanity.  Nobody knew more about that process than Ambassador Scheffer as his memoir proves.

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[i]  For more information about the atmospherics in Kigali during these years see my book In the Aftermath of Genocide - The U.S. Role in Rwanda.

[ii]  See photos after page 218.

Mystery and Mayhem in Kenya

 Following is a review of An Open Heart by Harry Kraus, David Cook, Colorado Springs, CO., 2013.

This novel combines elements of medicine, religion, mysticism, witchcraft, political intrigue, corruption and marital tension into a fast paced readable novel.  The story is set alternately in Richmond Virginia and Kijabe Kenya.  The plot revolves around Jace Rawlings, an American surgeon, raised as a missionary kid in Kenya, who returns to Kijabe to start an open heart surgery practice. Hence the title, which also refers to Jace’s need to come to terms with his past and to open his heart to new revelations. He is burdened with a load of guilt with regard to his dead sister and to events in Virginia for which he seeks expiation in Kenya.

However, Jace inexplicably comes under attack from evil forces and the plot of the novel unwinds the whys and wherefores for such pressures.  The tale backtracks to his estranged marriage in Richmond and his wife Heather’s questioning Jace’s love and truthfulness. He also poses to himself some of the same questions.

The Kenya setting is impeccable. While several of the Kenyan characters are overblown to suit the plot, others, especially the minor players are perfectly realistic. Those who know Kenya will nod in appreciation of the accuracy of the nuances such folks bring to the story.  

Authors are admonished to “write what you know,” and Harry Kraus has done just that. He is a surgeon who works in Kenya.  Obviously the plot is fabricated, but the details are fairly realistic.  The only discordant note I spotted was that while the corrupt politician and his on-call witch doctor are Luos, the witch doctor operated out of Kisii, which is not in Luoland. Perhaps Kisii is a hot bed of evil practioners, but it is not where I would expect a Luo witchdoctor to reside

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In sum, An Open Heart pulls the reader along into the story. It is a fun read

Newfoundland Revisited

Following is a review of Sweetland by Michael Crummey, Liveright Publishing Company, NY, 2014.

In preparation for a trip to Newfoundland several years ago I read a wonderful novel entitled Galore by Michael Crummey.  That story encapsulated a sense of the island and the people who lived there with their peculiarities and foibles.  It was an extremely well told tale.  So I was pleased to find a newer book by the same author set again in Newfoundland.  Like Galore, Sweetland deserves plaudits. 

 The plot of the novel is fairly simple. A village on an outlying island is fading away and the government decides to relocate all the residents to the mainland (which, of course, is also an island, although much, much larger).  The hitch is that all of the 100 or so residents must accept the government’s offer.  Several, including the story’s protagonist, Moses Sweetland, stubbornly refuse, but they are ultimately pressured into acceptance by their neighbors.  However, following the death of his great nephew Jesse, Sweetland changes his mind, fakes his own death and stays behind to eke out a solitary existence. 

The beauty of the story is in the characters, dimples and warts included, mostly recalled through the memories of Moses Sweetland.  The islanders were a peculiar bunch, as is Sweetland himself.  The tapestry jerks forward and backward with various anecdotes and pieces of history fleshing out the tale in a sporadic fashion.  Ultimately, of course, Sweetland has to come to terms with himself, his own past, his relationships and his ghosts. Along the way the reader is pulled into a better understanding not just of the hard scrabble life on an out island, but of the complex web of human ties that bind and blind relationships.  

Lost in northern Kenya

This is a review of a novel, The Names of Things by John Colman Wood, AshlandCreekPress.com, 2012.

     This novel, set for the most part in northern Kenya among the Gabra people, is essentially a meditation on mourning.  The plot is fairly simple. The protagonist, an anthropologist, goes to Kenya to live with and study the Dasse (apparently the Gabra’s name for themselves).  HIs wife, an artist, goes along reluctantly.  While he studies (and reflects upon the culture he is immersed in), she paints and contracts AIDS, perhaps from tainted blood, perhaps from sex.  Back in the states she dies and he is lost. So he returns to Kenya to mourn, to find closure, and perhaps a way forward. 

 

     All of this occurs against the back drop of the dry desert landscape of northern Kenya where nomadic life is tough and where the modern world has made little entry.  Our anthropologist (who is never named) continues to chronicle the cultural life of the Dasse, especially their death customs, as he tries to make sense of his own loss.   He slowly transforms from observer to participant, but yet can never cross the cultural divide.  Pitted against inhospitable terrain and loneliness, his final quest is an individual one. 

     Needless to say this is kind of an odd novel.  There are lots of ruminations about life and death, and the nature of relationships, all of it offset by the stark reality of nomadic life and the understandings, misunderstandings and just plain confusion that an outsider brings to people he encounters.  Yet the presumably accurate descriptions of what that life is and how people cope make the tale compelling. 

     I am perhaps the rare reviewer who has actually traveled through the region so aptly depicted in the novel.  Although I had little contact with the inhabitants, the geography and physical descriptions are accurate.  Readers curious about Kenya, about nomadic life and non-western cultures will find this an interesting story.  I did.

How is Africa changing?

This is a review of The Rift - A New Africa Breaks Free by Alex Perry, Little Brown and Company, NY, 2015.

The premise of this book is that Africa has changed. Duh! Is that enough to write a book about?  Apparently so.  Author Perry makes a good case, at least for those whose heads have been stuck in the sand for the last twenty years that the Africa they knew has indeed changed.   The title indicates that Africa has broken free of past constraints and is now master of its own fate.  The author observes that nations like Rwanda, Uganda, and Zimbabwe are no longer bound by colonial ties, and western visions of economies, but are forging their own ways with their own independent minded leaders.  Some leaders like Kagame and Museveni are politically astute and running their own show, others like Mugabe are lost in the past and rely on thuggish brutality to stay in power.  Perry underlines his views on Zimbabwe with an anecdote wherein he was imprisoned for several days by the regime’s minions. That’s his technique, he reports personal encounters with activists, observers, perpetrators and victims, then extrapolates his points from there.  It is an effective journalistic approach to writing.  

 Economically, Perry makes the point that the colonial paradigm of western exploitation of African resources no longer governs.  Others, like China, are involved, but the biggest current obstacles to economic progress are Africans themselves.  The portraits painted of South Africa and Nigeria where corruption is rife are insightful, especially the observation that South Africa’s ruling party, the African National Congress, is intrinsically corrupt because as a freedom fighter organization it was anti- state and anti-law.  Ergo, its officials have inculcated an ethos to consider public assets fruit of the struggle.  Sadly, Nigerians cannot claim such a distinction, but Perry argues that British colonial favoring of the resource poor north contributed to the northern predilection to loot the oil rich south. 

Perry devotes quite a bit of space to conflict, especially violence with connections to global terrorism.  He (correctly) states that in three cases -  Somalia (Al Shabab),  Nigeria (Boko Harum)  and Mali (Al Qaeda in the Maghreb - AQIM) the roots of the terrorist organizations lie in indigenous nationalist movements.  Furthermore these movements expanded and grew in strength because the west, particularly the United States, saw fit to consider, treat and attack these movements as part of a global Al Qaeda network.  Perry argues that in part because of such pressures the groups did, in fact, align themselves with global networks.  Whatever the background, violence continues to be exacerbated by western, and western proxy intervention, i.e. Ethiopia and Uganda in Somalia, UN forces in Mali.  Perry has harsh words for U.S. renditions and interrogations of suspected Al Shabab operatives in East African prisons.  On the other hand he luridly describes videos of awful violence perpetrated by Boko Harum operatives in Nigeria, but offers little confidence that the inept Nigerian military can cope with the problem.

Beyond the negativism of much of the book, the author does find some reasons for optimism.  African politics are increasingly bereft of external string pulling.  Economic bright spots revolve around capitalizing on Africa’s enormous agriculture potential.  Reforming land tenure policies to permit individual ownership is key to investment that will lead to surplus production.  This is happening in Ethiopia. There and elsewhere in East Africa, modern cell phone communications make market prices available.  Unconstrained communications promote widespread freedoms of all sorts - information, political, economic and security.  Kenya’s mpesa electronic money system is setting a global precedent for a new type of financial system.  Innovative local leaders in urban areas, like the mayor of Lagos, are forging ahead with infrastructure and social projects that may make Africa’s sprawling cities more livable.   Finally, Perry has found throughout the continent people of integrity who are determined to battle for justice, equity and progress.  He puts faith in them. 

There is a lot I disagreed with in this book, more along the intensity of the presentation rather than the issues themselves.  I was dismayed by the vivid, almost voyeuristic descriptions, especially the opening account of watching a child die in Mogadishu.  However, agree or disagree, Perry makes his case. Africa has changed and is no longer subject to the same strictures as before.  Students of Africa or those who just want a perspective on the continent should read this book.