Not on Our Watch

by Don Cheadle

  You have the power to affect real change—change that can save and improve thousands of lives. Through seemingly simple gestures, and large coordinated efforts, you can use the strategies discussed to demand a better, more secure future for those suffering in Darfur and beyond.

  Few public officials have spoken as forcefully about the need for greater citizen action to end the genocide than Mukesh Kapila, the upstanding former UN humanitarian coordinator for Sudan we told you about in Chapter 4. In July 2006 he offered these inspiring words:

  People can show solidarity by not forgetting. One of the most terrible and depressing things when you are a refugee or an internally displaced person from a war like this is you feel completely forgotten. You feel that you are stuck there somewhere in a camp in the middle of nowhere and the world has simply passed you by. And that, more than anything else, takes everything away from you. So help; don’t forget; and bring pressure on the authorities to do what must be done.

  Lobby the Government: Actions You Can Take

  1. Find out your representative’s record on Darfur, if they have one at all. Visit www.darfurscores.org to learn about each member of the US Congress’ individual voting record, and see how it can be applied to your own government.

  2. Make an appointment to see your national representatives when they are in your area, or get a group together and travel to parliament for a lobby day. Making an appointment to meet with parliamentary members isn’t as tough as it sounds. You voted for them and you have a right to tell them exactly how you feel about the issues that matter to you.

  3. Visit city council members and state representatives and encourage them to divest and pass a resolution urging stronger action to end genocide in Darfur and atrocities wherever they occur.

  4. Urge your elected officials to speak publicly about Darfur.

  5. Keep sending those personal letters to your parliament, your prime minister and/or president, and key officials like ministers for state, defence, etc.

  DON:

  ‘You knew Petey Green, huh?’ This cabbie is 60-plus at least, old enough to remember Petey Green well. His next statement is icing on the cake.

  ‘Knew his daddy too. My daddy and him used to run together,’ he adds, turning left on K Street. ‘He was a bad mother too, man. Dangerous.’

  I wish I could drive around with him all day, but I’m late for my meeting with John, the crew, and Minni Minnawi, the SLA rebel leader from Darfur.

  The cabbie pulls up at the hotel and drops me off. I thank him for the history lesson and turn right into the lens of a camera.

  ‘Oh, right, we’re making a documentary.’ I step off to the right so Sus can mike me while I scan the general area looking for my partner in crime. Ted (director Theodore Braun) reads my mind.

  ‘He’s not here yet.’

  ‘Good thing I rushed.’

  ‘But there’s Minni over there.’

  Ted points across the walk to a little table just off to the side that is surrounded by many African men in suits. They are very animated, each man interrupting the other, speech in high gear, gestures sharp, cutting through the air and whatever last argument was just brought up. Ted’s quick on the uptake.

  ‘Dark grey suit.’

  ‘Got it.’

  I sit down at the little table on our side of the walkway staring at this rebel leader. He’s a rebel leader? Minni Minnawi looks very statesmanlike. They all do. Sitting at the table under the umbrella sipping coffee, these men don’t remotely conjure images of freedom fighters storming through the desert sands firing automatic weapons at an invading army. They look more like a delegation of politicians or group of lawyers debating some contentious ruling.

  Ted catches Minni’s eye and he comes over, cell phone pressed to his ear.

  ‘I’m going up,’ he reports and turns on his heel, several of the men following him. I see the soldiers in them now, men dutifully guarding their leader’s flank as he advances, five or so hanging back to secure the rear, all flowing like clockwork. As I sit staring, trying to guess each of their ranks, John comes casually strolling up the sidewalk believing he’s the first one here. I tell the cameras to swing around, wanting to document the moment, a safeguard against future ‘tardiness’ denials.

  ‘Buddy.’ It’s his regular salutation.

  ‘You’re late,’ is becoming mine. ‘I’m going to get you a watch.’

  ‘Got one. See?’ He shows me his BlackBerry.

  ‘Do you know how the clock thingy works?’

  This goes back and forth for a couple of beats while John gets miked up, and then we’re headed upstairs with our crew to interview Minni.

  I’m slightly nervous about this one. From everything I’ve learned about the situation in Darfur as of late, it is a crumbling house of cards. Minni is in a particularly difficult position, having signed a peace agreement with the Sudanese government that none of the other rebel parties have agreed to, citing its lack of enforceable protections. The treaty has been largely criticised for leaving the responsibility for disarming the Janjaweed up to the government of Sudan—the same government that armed the militia in the first place. Without the oversight of an independent UN peacekeeping force, few people believe the agreement could have real teeth. This inexorable division has resulted in such intense in-fighting between the rebel factions and has become so widespread that thousands more Darfurians are being displaced, and the zones where people felt even a remote sense of security are shrinking rapidly. What we’re seeing is the employment of a classic tactic of those in power, one it seems that almost never fails: divide and conquer. With the rebels splintered and Minni’s faction of the SLA potentially co-opted, the Khartoum regime can more easily suffocate the insurrection, much of its dirty work handled by the very people originally opposing the government for its violent and unlawful practices. How do you broach such touchy subject matter? Are we about to be interviewing a man caught desperately between a rock and a hard place, a freedom fighter only doing what he believes to be right, facing down incredible odds for the betterment of his people? Or is this man a turncoat aligning himself with those who promised to fill his coffers in payment for terrible deeds exacted on defenceless Darfurians? Only two things I am sure of: (1) I do not know the answer, and (2) I am anxious, apprehensive even, to hear his reply.

  We ride up in the elevator strategising. We want to ask questions that we can get answers to. However, we are well aware that if our fears of Minni’s about-face are true, this may be a go-nowhere, learn-nothing conversation filled with doublespeak and subterfuge. John is particularly keen to ask Minni about reports from his own field staff and from Amnesty International about various human rights violations in the displaced camps, perpetrated by Minni’s faction of fighters, the most egregious being the rape of several indigenous aid workers. I hope this soldier ain’t packing today.

  When we enter Minni’s hotel room, it is immediately evident that if the Khartoum government is paying him, it is a paltry sum. The cramped room can barely fit the two double beds and armoire, let alone the two of us, our small camera, sound guy, and Ted. As our interview begins, Ted in fact has to retreat to the closet to give us sufficient room.

  We ask softball questions at first: ‘How are things in the region now?’ ‘What is the condition of your fighters?’ etc. We get the expected softball answers, then slowly segue to more substantive matters. When asked about the peace accord, Minni takes pains to tell us that we must remember that his is not the only signature that appears on the agreement, citing the AU, EU, Germany, Great Britain, and the Arab League as signatories as well, demanding of us that we hold all parties accountable for the success or failure of the peace.

  ‘Speaking of accountability ...’

  Uh-oh, here we go. John sits forward in his chair.

  ‘What do you have to say about reports c
oming out of Darfur of your men colluding with the Sudanese army and committing human rights violations, rape specifically?’

  For the first time, Minni’s voice rises, strenuously denying the accusations, calling them ‘lies and propaganda’ fabricated by those who oppose him. I’m an all right poker player but can no more tell if he’s speaking honestly or lying through his teeth. Minni definitely appears upset, but that could be the result either of being caught or of his rank and file being wrongly accused. But the door has been thrown open, so I venture in and ask:

  ‘Given the fact that you are basically under siege, fighting on two fronts at once, what do you believe the future holds?’

  There’s a pause as he considers it; his answer is as universal a truth as any stated today.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  There’s little else to add, so John and I wrap it up and say our good-byes.

  John is mumbling to himself as we walk down the hall.

  ‘You don’t believe a word he said, do you?’ I ask him.

  ‘That report isn’t wrong. He’s on the other side now. He’s becoming a government lackey, which will end up just killing more Darfurians.’

  We walk in silence as the true depth of the instability sinks in.

  Months later, after John returns from Sudan for a 60 Minutes piece on the crisis in Darfur, he leaves me a voice mail.

  ‘Hey. Just got back. You sitting down? Minni Minnawi and his people are now basically acting as one of the wings of the Sudanese army. They’re preparing to mount an offensive at the end of this month. Tell you more about it when I see you.’

  And the hits just keep on coming.

  [1] www.BeAWitness.org

  9

  Stop Mass Atrocities Now: An Agenda for Change

  In Germany they came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time, no one was left to speak up.

  Pastor Martin Niemoller

  Darfur and other crises marked by mass atrocities can seem overwhelmingly complex and insoluble. But the truth is that they can be ended. If governments—working directly and through the United Nations—have sufficient political will, they can work with concerned African governments to make a difference in conflict-plagued countries. How we influence political will was the subject of Chapters 6, 7, and 8. What needs to happen once we have the political will to act is the subject of this chapter.

  It is not an exaggeration to say that a modern-day holocaust is well under way in Congo, northern Uganda, Somalia, and Sudan, with well over 6 million freshly dug graves over the last two decades. Unless the world responds more urgently, the death toll will continue to mount.

  These four cases represent the four deadliest, most brutal conflicts in Africa, and arguably the world, over the last decade or so. They certainly represent some of the most heinous atrocities seen during the last century of warfare. They are also the biggest generators of human displacement globally.

  We’ve already covered Darfur in detail. The following is a short introduction to what at the time of writing are the other three most destructive conflicts in Africa: Congo, northern Uganda, and Somalia. None of them can be defined as genocidal, but the crimes against humanity committed are at times just as deadly as Darfur’s violence has been. We provide more information in the ENOUGH Project website (www.enoughproject.org) for those of you who want to learn—or do—more about these crises. We hope that will include YOU!

  Congo, 1996–Present

  Imagine if the entire population of the city of Los Angeles, or of Sydney, or Johannesburg, or the entire population of Ireland was slowly wiped out, community by community. Imagine each and every person being dragged out of their homes, murdered, systematically raped and brutalised. The media would be transfixed, and we would all surely know who was suffering, where it was happening, and why. Yet since 1996 some 4 million people have lost their lives in the lush rain-forest landscapes of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and how many of us have heard of places like Goma, Bukavu, or Bunia?

  The current conflict in the Congo has many of its roots in the rolling hills of neighbouring Rwanda, where hundreds of thousands of souls are laid to rest. Just 11 years after genocide tore through Rwanda, many of those killers washed up in neighbouring Congo, where the blood still flows. When Rwanda and Uganda invaded the Congo for the second time in 1998 (having done so in 1996 to overthrow the dictator Mobutu Sese Seko), the assault sparked a regional conflict that many people dubbed Africa’s First World War. Men and children with guns flooded into Congo, and militia thugs killed and displaced civilians on a massive scale.

  A peace deal was struck in 2003 that established a power-sharing arrangement between rival warring factions, but the violence in eastern Congo continued. Levels of sexual assault in eastern Congo rival any in the world. Amid increased reports of kidnappings and sexual slavery, soldiers and other armed men continue to tax, harass, loot, and rape local populations. Humanitarian-aid delivery is a monumental challenge. The constant cycles of displacement experienced by Congolese civilians have left most communities on the knife edge of survival, and the predatory presence of the armed groups ensures that unacceptable mortality rates, with people denied the medical help they need, will remain among the highest in the world.

  Northern Uganda, 1986–Present

  In early 2005, we travelled together to northern Uganda with a television crew from ABC’s Nightline. Around the world, children face all manner of depredations, but the stories we heard in northern Uganda may be among the most horrific ever told.

  For nearly 20 years, the Ugandan government has been involved in armed conflict with the rebel group called the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA). As we discussed in Chapter 3, the LRA, which is on the US government’s list of terrorist organisations, was primarily supported for over a decade by the Sudanese government, to terrorise the southern Sudanese. The LRA’s pattern of widespread atrocities sparked the first investigation into crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court (ICC). In July 2005, the ICC issued warrants for the arrest of LRA leader Joseph Kony and four of his top lieutenants.

  John has travelled many times to northern Uganda and spoken directly with LRA commanders. They tell John that Joseph Kony is rooted in a grotesquely distorted view of the Old Testament. He thinks of himself as a modern-day Moses, imposing the Ten Commandments on people who refuse to obey him. Kony’s ‘philosophy’—if you can call it that, is eye-for-an-eye. In seeking revenge against the Ugandan government for past transgressions against northerners, Kony believes that he is instructed by God to attack and punish civilians who collaborate with the government.

  The LRA’s extreme brutality has displaced 1.6 million Ugandans, and its attacks on civilians continue. As Don told Nightline, ‘The LRA has a particularly ugly way of replenishing its ranks, kidnapping. Their targets are children between the ages of eight and 14. Rebels raid villages, stealing what they need and burning the rest. According to UN estimates, more than 30,000 children have been forced into the service of the LRA since 1994.’

  In 2005, the LRA expanded into eastern Congo, further adding to that tortured country’s many problems. Without more international support for a credible peace process and a mechanism to effectively protect civilians from the predators that lurk in the night, the children of northern Uganda, eastern Congo, and southern Sudan will be condemned to a living nightmare of abduction, torture, rape, and murder.

  A renewed peace process that began in July 2006 offers a glimmer of hope for long-suffering northern Ugandans, but the most powerful and influent
ial nations of the world have been absent from the negotiating table. The government of southern Sudan, a semi-autonomous entity created by the north-south peace deal in Sudan, is leading the mediation efforts, but the mediators need support from the international community. Western governments could have demonstrated their commitment to end this conflict by sending senior diplomats to support the process. If the talks don’t succeed, these governments will regret not having made the effort to bring this nightmare to a peaceful end.

  Somalia, 1991–Present

  John has travelled to Somalia regularly for the past two decades and witnessed that country’s free fall into anarchy and human suffering. His first trip was in the 1980s, before the disastrous military intervention that led to the infamous ‘Black Hawk Down’ battle in 1993 in which 18 American servicemen were killed. Back then, the US government was still propping up a warlord dictator to support Cold War interests and ignoring widespread human rights abuses. As a young activist, John was appalled that his government would allow defenceless Somali civilians to be cannon fodder in a strategic battle with the Soviets.

  Following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Somali government imploded in 1991, and efforts to create a new government have consistently collapsed into new bouts of bloodletting. After the Black Hawk Down battle, the US and UN troops withdrew over the following year, and largely absented themselves from concerted efforts at rebuilding a functioning central authority. Somalia is the very definition of a failed state, the only country in the world without a government, and millions of Somalis deal with chronic drought and hunger without the safety net of a functioning polity.