Vieira de Mello presided over a brief ceremony in the middle of the jungle, where Ayun’s men solemnly handed over 144 old but well-maintained AK-47 assault rifles and 2,557 rounds of ammunition. The Montagnards lowered their flag and handed it to Vieira de Mello, who later hung it in his UN office in Geneva.
On October 10, 1992, he faxed a note to Lionel Rosenblatt, one of the group’s long-standing advocates in the United States:
Dear Lionel,
Operation concluded!
They were disarmed between last night and this morning (144 weapons), dissolved as a political/military organization and were relocated12 . . .
The ball is in your court.
Please help with expedited processing.
All the best and thanks,
Sergio
Pushed by Rosenblatt and other refugee advocates, President George H. W. Bush’s administration sent immigration officers to Cambodia in record speed. Within six weeks all the Montagnards had been resettled in North Carolina, the home state of Republican senator Jesse Helms, who had taken a personal interest in this persecuted Christian group.
Early on in his career Vieira de Mello had observed military commanders routinely take note of the achievements of their soldiers in written letters of thanks and commendation. He brought this practice to the world of UN civilian performance and became famous among UN staff for his thank-you letters. After this operation he quickly wrote to General Sanderson, expressing his personal thanks to the Uruguayan colonel, the Ghanaian major, the Malian captain, the Australian private, and the American navy major who provided invaluable assistance in the repatriation operation. In a memo back to UNHCR headquarters,Vieira de Mello also handwrote a note crediting Giuseppe de Vincentis, the young UNHCR field officer, for his leadership on the issue. “Peppe can be proud of what he did,” Vieira de Mello wrote. “One of the last pages of [the] IndoChinese tragedy was resolved peacefully. Only one in many unknown stories in the careers of HCR staff and small humanitarian achievements that give us pride in serving UNHCR.”26
While the return of the Montagnards earned Vieira de Mello friends in the United States, his reputation was solidified globally because the larger repatriation operation never suffered the calamities that Cambodians or international experts had predicted. Although the returns had started slowly, as the election approached UNHCR was meeting its target of sending home some 40,000 Cambodians each month. Refugees relied upon the UN for bus and train transit, for protection against banditry and extortion en route, for assistance in tracking down family members, and of course for food, land, building materials, and cash. By the time of the elections in May 1993 a total of 362,209 Cambodians had returned, 90,000 of whom took the refurbished train from Sisophon to Phnom Penh. Most of them rushed back to the places where they had grown up. And to the surprise of outside experts, those refugees who had lived in a camp controlled by one of the three opposition factions showed great independence in their choices, often choosing to return to land that was under the grip of Hun Sen. Only one returnee died en route—in a bus accident in Thailand.27
“Our mistake was being too paternalistic,” Vieira de Mello told a journalist, decrying the “imbecilic notion” of “telling people where to go.”28 He observed that he had been wrong to assume that the refugees in the camps “had lost any initiative, any freedom of judgment, any freedom of thought; had become totally dependent and might follow the instructions of their leaders like sheep.” He had found the opposite. “The moment you removed the lid,” he recalled, “they were quite capable of deciding for themselves.”29 Like Thomas Jamieson, he would henceforth be a fierce advocate of relying on refugees for planning guidance.
In March 1993 the last convoy of 199 returnees left Khao-I-Dang, the oldest of the refugee camps and the backdrop for the final scene in the film The Killing Fields. In his remarks at the closing ceremony, Vieira de Mello reported that since 1979 nearly 235,000 Cambodian refugees had been resettled from camps in Thailand to the United States and elsewhere overseas. But the international community should not treat this as a source of pride, he said. “I cannot but share the misgivings of a former colleague,” he declared, “when he said many years ago that he could never quite see how we were contributing to the solution of Cambodia’s problem by flying its few remaining qualified people to new homes thousands of miles away.”30 Having managed the repatriation and stuck to deadlines that others had faulted,Vieira de Mello was proud of having “proved wrong all the prophecies of doom.”31
EXIT
The previous April, when Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali had visited Cambodia, Vieira de Mello had personally escorted him around. Having laid out the risks of renewed civil war, he explained to the secretary-general how each challenge could be overcome.“I am optimistic like you,” Boutros-Ghali had said.32 Vieira de Mello had never before had the opportunity to perform before a UN secretary-general, and he made a memorable impression. Jean-Claude Aimé, whom Vieira de Mello had worked with in Bangladesh and Lebanon, and who was Boutros-Ghali’s chief of staff, told him that the secretary-general had big plans for him.
Boutros-Ghali returned to Phnom Penh in April 1993, a year after his first visit, to usher in Cambodia’s election season. Some twenty political parties had registered, and they faced serious risks. He got a taste of the violence on his second day in the country when four Cambodian gunmen shot dead a twenty-five-year-old Japanese volunteer election supervisor, the sixth UN worker killed in two weeks. In the wake of the murder, UN security officials held emergency meetings aimed at enhancing security for staff. Armed UN troops and barbed-wire barricades blocked the roads around UNTAC headquarters. But Boutros-Ghali took a tough line, declaring in a speech: “The UN will not be intimidated by violence. The election will take place.”33 In mid-April, however, Khieu Samphan cast further doubt on this proclamation when he announced that he and other Khmer Rouge leaders were leaving Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali and his special representative Yasushi Akashi being briefed by Vieira de Mello on his repatriation plan, April 19, 1992.
Phnom Penh and formally withdrawing from the Paris peace process. They would not participate in the elections.
With violence flaring and UNTAC foundering, many UN officials had assumed that Vieira de Mello would find a way to remain in Cambodia through the landmark elections. But to his delight Boutros-Ghali asked him to serve as his envoy to Angola. Although he had been separated from his family for a year and a half, he did not hesitate before accepting the promotion. While Akashi had pointedly excluded him from strategic decision making in Cambodia, in Angola he would be the boss. He would answer only to the secretary-general and to the countries on the Security Council. He would no longer have to use humanitarian successes to pursue political ends. He could tackle political and diplomatic challenges head-on, while leaving the delivery of the “groceries” to others.
Angola had been at war almost nonstop since its Portuguese colonizers had departed in 1975. It had held its first free elections in September 1992, but Jonas Savimbi, the leader of the rebel movement, had lost the vote and again taken up arms. It would be up to Vieira de Mello to try to end the civil war for good. Although the challenge was enormous, after nearly a quarter century in the UN, he believed he was up to it. He would be returning to a neighborhood he knew well from his time in Mozambique in the 1970s, he would be able to speak his native Portuguese, and he would draw on the negotiation skills he had honed with the Khmer Rouge and others.
He informed his UN colleagues that he would be leaving Cambodia before the elections. “I would stay if I could,” he said, “but the secretary-general has asked me to go.”When he invoked the UN’s highest authority, he could sound alternately pompous and self-parodying. His colleagues were disappointed. “Things felt like they were going to hell,” recalls Michael Williams, who worked as Dennis McNamara’s deputy in UNTAC’s Human Rights Division.“Sergio was this dynamic and commanding figure in UNTAC, and UNTAC didn’t have commanding
figures.We were worried that Cambodia would descend into civil war, and the best we had was leaving. We were stunned.”
At Vieira de Mello’s going-away party Andrew Thomson made the mistake of asking Mieke Bos if she, too, was moving to Angola. “No,” she said tersely, “I’m staying here.” Vieira de Mello flew from Phnom Penh to Brazil, where he took his family on a ten-day vacation. He left knowing that his job had been well done but that the UN mission as a whole still hung in the balance.
Once he got back to Geneva, he busily assembled his Angola team. Squatting in a temporary office in an annex building near the main UNHCR headquarters, he began telephoning colleagues to try to persuade them to join him. Many turned him down because it was a hardship post to which they could not bring their families, or because they spoke only French and English and not Portuguese. When Annick Roulet, Vieira de Mello’s communications officer in Cambodia, refused on linguistic grounds, he waved off her worries. “Come on,” he said. “You have a month to learn, and Portuguese is a very easy language.” Roulet shook her head. “Sergio,” she said, “you have no credibility: Every language is easy for you.” But he prevailed, and Roulet again agreed to accompany him.
Vieira de Mello’s giddy scheming proved short-lived. On May 11, 1993, the UN leaked unofficial word that he was to be named the UN Special Representative of the Secretary-General in Angola.34 Several days later he received a call from Boutros-Ghali’s office in New York informing him that his candidacy had been nixed. UN officials had cleared his appointment with the Angolan government, but they had somehow failed to consult with Savimbi, and the rebels were furious. They had “nothing against” Vieira de Mello personally, a rebel spokesman said, but under no circumstances would they work with a Brazilian national.35 Savimbi had never forgiven Brazil for having been the first Western nation to recognize Angolan independence under his rival Agostinho Neto in 1975. And he even accused Brazil of helping rig the country’s recent elections in favor of the ruling party.36 “How can a Brazilian citizen claim to be neutral when they actively helped President dos Santos to be elected?” a rebel official asked.37
Vieira de Mello was crushed. His paychecks at UNHCR had already been suspended—his salary was to be paid by the UN Secretariat in New York—and he had practically booked his flight to Angola. “Ogata has already given me farewell presents,” he complained to friends, referring to the high commissioner for refugees. “Now what?” He was furious with Boutros-Ghali and his staff for mishandling the appointment. Also, although he was a proud Brazilian, he had not lived in Brazil since he was a teenager and had no connection with the government there. Yet he was being held responsible for Brazil’s policies. He had grown so devoted to the transnational ideals of the United Nations that it infuriated him when others pigeonholed him on the basis of nationality.“How could they saddle me with the sins of a government I can’t control?” he asked sympathetic colleagues, though he knew full well that such lumping was commonplace in the UN.
He kept busy in Geneva by reading press reports and UN cables from Cambodia. But the news from the country he had left was grim. Between March 1 and May 14 more than a hundred violent incidents had been recorded, causing 200 deaths, 338 injuries, and 114 abductions.38 UN Headquarters had ordered the families of UN officials to evacuate Cambodia. Some three hundred polling sites had been closed because of the violence. UNTAC’s goal, when it arrived fourteen months before, had been to preside over “free and fair” elections. By the time of the vote, though, UNTAC’s electoral director Reginald Austin was saying that the UN would content itself with establishing whatever “neutral political acreages” it could.The main goal was to stage a vote without igniting another civil war. On the eve of the vote Akashi, who had consistently attempted to claim the peace process was on track, could only muster: “I can say with every confidence that this election will be the freest and fairest in Cambodia’s recent history.”39 This was not saying much, as each of Cambodia’s previous elections had been marred by coercion and terror.
Miraculously, the elections proved a calm and inspiring success. On May 23, the first day of voting, Vieira de Mello read reports of jubilant and defiant Cambodians queuing up for hours to vote. By the end of the six-day process, nearly 90 percent of Cambodia’s 4.7 million registered voters had cast ballots. One of the great mysteries of the vote was why the Khmer Rouge, who had pulled out of the Paris agreement, did not sabotage it. “All they had to do was kill a bunch of foreigners,” recalls Austin, “and that would have shut the whole thing down.” Every UN official had a theory as to why the Khmer Rouge did not act up. Clearly, the revolutionaries were divided among themselves, and their organizational structure had broken down. But, Austin speculates, “partly it was because Sergio had softened them up somewhat. He ensured that ‘foreigners’ or ‘UN officials’ were no longer abstractions to the senior Khmer Rouge command.”
Prince Norodom Ranariddh, Sihanouk’s son, won a near majority in the vote, taking 58 seats out of the 120 in the constituent assembly. Hun Sen’s ruling party came in second, scoring 51 seats. Initially Hun Sen contested the results, persuading seven provinces to announce they would secede from Cambodia. But the elder Sihanouk soon persuaded him to join the new government. As the UNTAC mandate expired, Prince Sihanouk was crowned Cambodia’s king, Ranariddh became first prime minister, and Hun Sen became second prime minister.
The negotiations on the shape of Cambodia’s coalition government proved far more important than the voting itself. Yet at precisely the time international attention was needed, UN officials were declaring successful elections and preparing to head home. “The distinct message from the Security Council and from Boutros-Ghali was ‘hold the elections and get the hell out,’ ” McNamara remembers.
By the end of 1993 all UNTAC staff had vanished from the country. The mission had cost $2.5 billion, by far the most expensive in UN history, but it left little tangible behind it—besides a fragile, divided government .40
The following year Vieira de Mello got word that the Cambodian army had attacked and completely destroyed the Khmer Rouge’s “model village” settlement of Yeah Ath, sending several thousand people fleeing yet again. He later described the event as “one of the saddest moments in my career, in my life, to realize that something that we had been working on so carefully, so prudently, and that we had hoped would be like a crack in the wall, in the impenetrable wall that surrounded the Khmer Rouge areas, and that we hoped would also serve as a model inside, it went literally down the drain.”41 He sent a note to James Lynch in Kenya, in which he confessed he had been “naïve” to think that Hun Sen would allow a utopian Khmer Rouge farming village to flourish right under his nose.” The news from Cambodia would only get worse. In July 1997 Hun Sen deposed Ranariddh in a coup, disavowing the results of the UN election.
STALLED
Vieira de Mello was out of a job. Ogata was grateful for his services, but she had filled all of her senior positions assuming that he was heading to Angola. He tried to make a virtue out of necessity. “I’ve always said I wanted time to reflect and write,” he told colleagues. “Well, now I have all the time in the world. Be careful what you wish for.”
Cooped up at a borrowed desk in the UNHCR annex—Dennis McNamara teased his friend that he was being housed in a “cupboard”—Vieira de Mello read and commented on a lengthy manuscript by researcher Courtland Robinson on the repatriation operation. He had opened up UNHCR’s files to Robinson and felt a little stung by the critique. He wrote to Robinson, “Never forget that what may be obvious after the fact requires a great deal of soul-searching and debate and involves a lot of anxiety and uncertainty before the fact, especially when a decision affecting the lives of people is about to be taken.” Robinson criticized UNHCR’s decision to return refugees to unsafe areas. Here Vieira de Mello accepted the charge but wrote, “It is difficult to imagine how one could spell out conditions under which return may be deemed safe. Should, for instance, returnees require higher st
andards than those enjoyed by the majority that never left?” He urged Robinson to take on UNTAC’s most serious weakness: the absence of a meaningful economic rehabilitation strategy, which undermined Cambodia’s long-term prospects.42
He spent the summer of 1993 in Geneva on the telephone to UN Headquarters in New York attempting to scrounge up a useful job, contemplating his future, and drafting a book proposal, which he tentatively titled “Deceit and Estrangement: The Aborted Relationship Between the Khmer Rouge and the Cambodian Peace Process (1989-1993).” At the heart of his proposal, which would examine whether the Khmer Rouge could have been kept engaged, was an implicit question: Which approach was more fruitful—his or Akashi’s? In terms of outcomes, he knew that he had the edge, as 360,000 Cambodian refugees had returned safely, including 77,000-plus who had been trapped in Khmer Rouge-controlled camps. But he also knew that lessons from the humanitarian sphere could not always be applied to the political realm. Still, he believed Akashi had been wrong to push the already-mistrustful Maoist guerrillas into an even darker and more suspicious vortex of isolation than the one they had inhabited when the UN first arrived. What was required, there and elsewhere, Vieira de Mello wrote, was “a dynamic even-handed diplomacy open to all the parties to the conflict.”43
Chasing the Flame: Sergio Vieira de Mello and the Fight to Save the World Page 16