Human
rights experts roundly agree that Augusto Pinochet's 1998
arrest in London has made for a "new moment," a "turning point,"
"a whole new calculus for transnational justice." Yet the
climate remains volatile, marked by unprecedented legal advances
as well as dramatic setbacks.
One landmark case embraces both extremes. In February 2000,
Chad's former tyrant, Hissein Habre, was arrested in Senegal
where, since his ouster, he has been living in exile. A direct
consequence of the Pinochet precedent, this was the first
time that an African leader was charged with human rights
abuses by the court of another African nation. Moreover, the
case was brought by victims survivors of torture, death
squads, and terror who traveled to Dakar in order to
testify in court. Hailed by African human rights groups as
"the most important [court] case in Senegal's history," the
arrest was later overturned by another court, and the judges
involved in the earlier decision were fired.
In August 2000, two Argentine "Dirty Warriors" were arrested
while traveling abroad. Ricardo Miguel Cavallo was detained
in Mexico on August 24 after Baltasar Garzon, the same Spanish
judge who initiated the prosecution of Pinochet, issued an
extradition request on charges of torture, murder, and participation
in genocide. The former naval officer was known as "Serpico"
(for his resemblance to Al Pacino) when he worked at the Navy
Mechanics School--often called the "Argentine Auschwitz" or
the "Harvard of Death" where he was famous both for
executing and teaching the art of torture. France too has
called for Cavallo's extradition, in connection with the torture
and deaths in the Navy Mechanics School of fifteen French
nationals, including two nuns, Alice Domon and Leonie Duquet.
Mexico is expected to comply with these requests for extradition,
a process that should take about eighteen months.
The Italian arrest of
Jorge Olivera, a retired Argentine army major, soon became
a bizarre legal theatrical. Detained in Rome on August 6 on
a French extradition request for the torture and forced disappearance
of a French citizen in Argentina in 1976, Olivera was released
on September 18 on the basis of a highly suspicious document,
soon found to be have been faked by Olivera and his associates.
In order to circumvent the fact that cases of forced disappearance
have no statute of limitation in international human rights
law, Olivera (who is also a lawyer) presented a supposed death
certificate for Marie Anne Erize, the French woman he is accused
of kidnapping and torturing, and whose body has never been
found. By the time the document was proven to be false, Olivera
had been flown back to Argentina, where he has legal immunity
for atrocities committed during the dictatorship. In Italy,
the two judges who released him are under investigation. In
the Buenos Aires suburb where he lives, Olivera was officially
declared Persona Non Grata; human rights and citizens groups
have spray-painted Asesino! Torturador! on the front of his
house. Human rights groups are studying ways to bring this
miscarriage of justice to an international tribunal.
How best to confront such dynamism has become a heated legal,
moral, and political issue. The experts consulted for this
article disagree, sometimes starkly, on optics, emphases,
and preferred courses of action.
Only when asked to compile a working list of former heads
of state vulnerable to international arrest in the wake of
the Pinochet precedent, did our experts widely concur. For
most of the respondents, the magnitude and scale of atrocities
were decisive factors in their selections:
 |
IDI
AMIN IN 1979 LIAISION |
|
Idi
Amin [de facto president
of Uganda, 1971-1979], for the scale of his general brutality,
purging of the Lango and Acholi tribes, and expulsion
of the country's entire Asian population. It is believed
that over 300,000 perished in his bloody reign of terror.
He is living under official protection in Saudi Arabia.
When Human Rights inquired of a Saudi ambassador about
the possibility of extraditing him for prosecution, he
was told that such an action would violate "Bedouin hospitality." |
 |
MILTON
OBOTE |
|
Milton
Obote, president of Uganda
(1980-85), for continued brutality and repression on a
scale that some believe to exceed that of Idi Amin. He
lives in Zambia. |
 |
ALFREDO
STROESSER OF PARAGUY /AFP |
|
Alfredo
Stroessner, military
dictator of Paraguay, (1954-1989), for forced disappearances,
torture, political killings. Stroessner lives in Brazil.
Because of his participation in the [largely CIA-financed]
Condor Plan, along with Pinochet and the regimes in
Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay, and Bolivia, a great deal
of information is potentially available. And there is
important human rights work now being done in Paraguay
by survivors, relatives of the missing, and other activists.
|
1 |
Jean-Claude
"Baby Doc" Duvalier,
president of Haiti (1971-1986), for kidnapping, torture,
and the Tonton Macoute death squads. He is living in
seclusion in a villa in France, enjoying a lifestyle
paid for through decades of systematic corruption.
|
 |
MENGISTU
HAILE MRIAM OF ETHOPIA 79, /Liasion |
|
Mengistu
Haile Miriam, dictator
of Ethiopia (1971-1991), for brutality and political
killings, especially in Eritrea, and the war and famine
in Somalia. He lives under protection in Zimbabwe, in
spite of Ethiopia's requests that he be extradited to
stand trial.
|
 |
RAOUL
CEDRAS IN 1980 /AP |
|
Raoul
Cedrás and Philippe Biamby,
for their role in the bloody 1991 coup against Haiti's
elected president, Jean-Bertrand Aristide, and for torture
and mass political murder during their dictatorship.
When Aristide was restored to the presidency, Cedrás
and Biamby were granted protection by Panama, where
they still live. Panama has refused Human Rights Watch's
request for extradition or prosecution, on the grounds
that it would set a bad precedent to reverse an offer
of asylum.
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The
Experts
Steven
R. Ratner
Steven R. Ratner is a Professor
of International Law, University of Texas at Austin Law School.
Michael
Ratner
Michael Ratner is the Former Legal
Director, Center for Constitutional Rights, and an international
human rights litigator.
Bruce
Broomhall
Bruce Broomhall is the International
Justice Coordinator, Lawyers Committee for Human Rights, New
York.
Reed
Brody
Reed Brody is the Director of Global
Advocacy, Human Rights Watch, New York.
William
Bourdon
William Bourdon is the Secretary-General
of the International Federation of Human Rights, Paris
Tom
Blanton
Tom Blanton is the Executive Director
of the National Security Archive, Washington, D.C.
Steven
R. Ratner
Professor of International
Law, University of Texas at Austin Law School.
At this time, the obvious candidates outside the former Yugoslavia
and Rwanda where the list is long fall into
two categories: first, those exile from their home, especially
Stroessner, Duvalier, Mengistu, Hissein Habre, Amin, and Cedras;
and second, those still enjoying impunity at home, e.g., senior
Khmer Rouge leaders, Rios-Montt in Guatemala, and Pinochet.
All could be charged with crimes against humanity, as well
as torture as an independent crime, over which there is universal
jurisdiction. I assume their chief aides could also be charged.
The
only options for international prosecutions are in third states,
creation of a new UN (or regional) tribunal, or the internationalization
of a domestic trial. There are blockages to trial in third
states, since all dictators in exile were given assurances
that they would not be tried or returned home. As for a new
international tribunal, don't bet on it. As for internationalization
of a domestic trial through foreign judges or prosecutors,
the UN is attempting to do that with Cambodia; we'll see what
happens. If it works, I could imagine other countries asking
the UN for help.
In
response to your question, Senator Jesse Helms is right when
he says that anyone with political enemies could be
arrested. But there are strong political barriers to a third
state investigating these abuses and making arrest requests;
the danger, however, is underenforcement, not overenforcement.
I thus think that Helms vastly overstates the danger, though
one can always make the claim that some loose-cannon prosecutor
could investigate and arrange for anyone's arrest, and it's
not a trivial point. I also think there are big moral questions
about the ability of an outside state (as opposed to a UN
tribunal) to upset the decision of a home state to shield
people from prosecution via amnesty. It's not a black-and-white
issue of accountability vs. impunity.
I
still think that, even though there are cases where states
should probably not exercise it, universal jurisdiction is
both a reality and a good thing.
Steven
R. Ratner is a Professor of International Law, University
of Texas at Austin Law School.
Michael Ratner
Former Legal Director, Center
for Constitutional Rights
Third-party criminal prosecutions are the only way that international
justice doesn't get controlled by the superpowers, which is
to say, by the United States and the UN (with U.S. veto on
the Security Council). Of course, it isn't foolproof, and
there's a little chaos, but it's a reasonable price to pay.
It gives middle-range countries like Spain, for example
the opportunity to prosecute for international justice.
Even with the ICC, which will have staffing and organizational
limitations, we'll still need these third-party prosecutions.
It's important that prosecutions show even-handedness; they
mustn't just be aimed at enemies of the West.
In
terms of how best to constitute a "most wanted" list, I'm
not unwilling to go after the big guys, but I do feel strongly
that we need to go after the powers behind these tyrants.
The Pinochet case has implicated the CIA and others, for example,
and that is to the good. We don't want justice to be skewed
we're the good guys, they're the bad guys. These situations
tend to be very complicated: Habre had U.S. and French support,
even though he propped up Qaddafi. We need to unmask the system
behind the repression. These histories are often long and
complex. So let me briefly mention some cases that call out
for prosecution:
- Operation
Phoenix, during which the CIA and U.S. military murdered
60,000 - 120,000 village headmen, on the belief that they
were Viet Cong sympathizers. There were no investigations,
no trials, these men were just taken out and shot. This
whole thing has been buried.
- Guatemala:
a clear case of genocide against at least 160,000 Indians.
[President] Clinton apologized, which is excellent, but
I would still go after the two or three CIA station chiefs
in Guatemala at the time.
- Toto
Constant should be prosecuted. He's working in a real-estate
office in Queens. In fact, there's to be a demonstration
in front of the place soon.
- Former
President Ronald Reagan, for what the World Court ruled
were "crimes against the peace" in Nicaragua.
- A
law student of mine has researched bringing a case against
[Henry] Kissinger for his responsibility in the Indonesian
invasion of East Timor, and for planning the bombing of
Cambodia, and the Christmas bombing of Viet Nam.
Will
any of these prosecutions come to pass? It's hard to say.
But that doesn't mean we should overlook atrocious crimes.
Civil actions are a wonderful recourse in cases of torture,
forced disappearance, and other crimes against humanity. Since
the early 1980s, we have brought well over a dozen such cases
[with the Center for Constitutional Rights and the Yale International
Human Rights Law Clinic]. In the 1980s we won a multi-million
civil suit against Hector Gramajo [the Guatemalan general
implicated in the torture and murder of thousands of Kanjobal
Indians]. Gramajo himself said publicly, "I killed over thirty
per cent of the people." But even liberals at the time said,
'Michael, you're wrong on this one.' Gramajo was studying
at [Harvard's John F.] Kennedy School [of Government], was
invited to speak at the SOA [School of the Americas]. Well,
that stopped. He didn't get invited places anymore. And he
is barred from entering the United States, because he was
shown to be a terrorist.
In the
1980s, there was no other way to really attack U.S. foreign
policy. And we did so with civil actions against U.S.-backed
torturers in Nicaragua, El Salvador, Guatemala, and elsewhere.
In 1994, I accompanied President Aristide back to Haiti where,
over the next year, Reed Brody and I helped him prosecute
human rights violators.
There
are of course significant differences between criminal and
civil prosecutions. Only the U.S. (and maybe Belgium and France)
allows these cases. So again, it's 'us' judging 'them.' But
it's better than nothing. At the same time, however, it is
not easy to sue U.S. officials.
On
the other hand, an aggrieved individual can initiate a civil
action without state cooperation, and according to fairly
traditional notions of torte. It is rare to actually collect
a settlement, but it is nonetheless important on several levels
for the victims: it is healing; it brings acknowledgment of
their plight; and it gets the information out there. There
are also collateral benefits: it is often a critique of U.S.
policy; and the defendants are 'branded,' Gramajo being a
perfect case in point.
So
while civil actions are not coercive, there's no jail, and
the defendant need not be present, there are other advantages.
They are much less expensive and difficult than criminal prosecutions,
and that is no mere detail.
We
are without doubt in a new legal moment. Many individuals
are afraid to travel, for one thing. They have been made to
understand the legitimacy of their being prosecuted. The Torture
Convention has been seen to mean no exemptions for former
heads of state. The message has been heard: You cannot do
these things to people, and just walk away. Even if you have
protection in your own country, that's no guarantee. Chile
did not fall apart, as was commonly said at the beginning
of Pinochet's time in England. In fact, the opposite has happened;
who would have dreamed that Chile would now be prosecuting
its own ex-tyrant? Countries have also been made to understand
that their signatures on human rights treaties and conventions
have meaning; they represent real commitments. And perhaps
most important of all: the general public now has knowledge
of the conventions, of the history, and many have expressed
a sense of outrage over the crimes committed [by Pinochet].
We have heard the collective cry that these crimes are absolutely
unacceptable.
Michael
Ratner is the Former Legal Director, Center for Constitutional
Rights and international human rights litigator.
Bruce
Broomhall
International Justice Coordinator,
Lawyer's Committee for Human Rights
I don't think in terms
of lists, I don't think about who we should pursue. I look
at this in purely legal terms: we need to clarify and advance
legislation. Governments need to perceive these cases as legitimate,
driven by legal--not political or vindictive--factors. The
process must be transparent, accessible to all, and open to
critique.
So
I approach the issue more conceptually: we must open a legal
space in which these atrocities can be addressed, adjudicated.
We want to move these cases outside the normal calculus of
diplomacy and politics. In this regard, if the ICC had been
up and running, it would have saved Jack Straw a lot of trouble.
Countries could offload politically hot issues, but they need
to be confident that there are rules and safety valves. The
message must be unambiguous: legality is the prime concern,
and certain acts, like torture and genocide, are simply
beyond the pale. With universal jurisdiction, it doesn't
matter if you are a head of state, or former head of state;
if the charges are solid, and the evidence is credible, you
will be vulnerable to prosecution. Like anyone else.
The
[1998] Rome Statute [which laid the groundwork for the ICC]
and Pinochet's arrest definitely marked a new legal moment.
For one thing, it showed how much is not in place, not only
in terms of legal structures, but knowledge, training of lawyers
and others. A whole series of projects got underway on universal
jurisdiction, for example. At The Lawyers Committee on Human
Rights, we have been doing seminars on the subject in the
context of the ICC, and it's been instructive to see how much
confusion there is, especially in regions of conflict. The
initial reaction, particularly, though not exclusively, among
military officers, is that universal jurisdiction is illegitimate,
forever attached to politics. In our seminars, the military
participants are initially suspicious, even hostile. But after
about two days, I tend to find that their views have softened.
They come to see that the ICC is fraught with concessions,
and that universal jurisdiction is not what they thought it
was.
It
is true that in many countries, prosecutors are under quite
tight political control. This is something the ICC can remedy.
Another major misapprehension we see is that the ICC will
fatally undermine sovereignty, interfere with democracy. It's
imperative to make the distinction between autonomy
and sovereignty in an international context in which,
again, certain acts are simply inadmissible: by ratifying
human rights treaties, incorporating universal jurisdiction
into domestic legislation, and approving the ICC, states will
have consented to participate in a rigorous, transparent
system of international justice.
It
is also important to understand the military position. And
here we come to a question of culture, the need for consciousness-raising
on both sides. Perhaps the biggest issue is that military
and police are often charged with maintaining internal
security. And military people argue, in good faith, that there
are certain exigencies that go with the job, that in order
to maintain order in difficult places, they need a margin
of leeway.
We
need to consider when impunity and amnesty might be legitimate;
when a truth and reconciliation commission might be a sufficient
legal process. This whole thing is about a slow, coming-to-understanding
of the law.
It
will take a couple of decades. But that's how history works.
We need precedents to establish the norm that certain actions
will not be tolerated; we must demonstrate that the process
is driven by legal concerns and constrained by legal
structures.
The
Pinochet arrest was extremely important, in itself, and in
terms of its effects in Chile. And even though it has had
a fatal setback, Habre's arrest is a huge victory. We may
now see progress in domestic law reform in Senegal. In fact,
the failure itself may prove to be the impetus for reform.
That this is happening below the Sahara is trememdously important.
Let it be noted that Senegal was the first country to ratify
the ICC.
Ultimately, the real work will be done in domestic forums.
The ICC will only be able to try about twenty cases a year.
It simply won't have the capacity to do more. So the crucial
link to be forged is between international and domestic law.
Bruce
Broomhall is the International Justice Coordinator, Lawyers
Committee for Human Rights, New York.
Reed
Brody
Director of Global Advocacy,
Human Rights Watch
It's essential to distinguish between political responsibility
and direct criminal responsibility. To say that Henry Kissinger
supported Pinochet, helped him get into power and stay there
while atrocities were going on is one thing. That is not necessarily
a crime under international law. We do have to examine
political responsibility it's not enough to go after
Pinochet without also examining the U.S. role in Chile, or
to go after Habre without also studying the political role
played by France and the U.S.. But direct criminal responsibility
under international law must be proven. If it is, then the
individuals in question should be called to account.
As we look over the list, there are numerous instances where
tyrants have been granted asylum or safe passage out of their
own country. Sometimes it's pure cynicism, indifference, and
realpolitik, and sometimes it's done to stop the bleeding.
Mengistu originally went to Zimbabwe because Jimmy Carter
arranged it, to keep him from doing further harm. But, by
and large, history shows that these guys leave when their
time is up, when their support at home is evaporating. These
individuals who amass great power, history shows us they fall.
In terms of "gettability," I would say that, of those on the
list, Stroessner has the most to worry about. In May 1999,
Human Rights Watch started talking to groups in Brazil, notably
with Marcos Bilim, head of the Human Rights Committee in the
National Assembly. That parliamentary Committee drafted a
request for Brazil to prosecute Stroessner. There hasn't yet
been a response [from the courts], but the idea has been articulated,
the seed has been sown.
We don't exclude the possibility of prosecuting lower-ranking
criminals against humanity. Heads of state are not the sole
perpetrators of these atrocities, which have no statute of
limitations. If we were to prosecute a police captain, for
example, that would send a message to a whole class of individuals.
In fact, Human Rights Watch considered prosecuting a Turkish
police officer who periodically travels to Germany to visit
his cousin. He could be arrested there. But, after consulting
with human rights professionals in Turkey, we realized that
the action would backfire. It would provoke a huge wave of
Turkish nationalism, and very likely a backlash against Turks
in Germany. So we decided not to pursue that case.
While
prosecutions must not be politically motivated, we feel it's
important to bring cases that create political consensus,
cases where the victims, and the citizens of the country where
the crimes were committed, are strongly behind the action.
That is why Human Rights Watch was so interested in the Habre
case: it was the first transnational human rights prosecution
in Africa, the first south-south case, if you will. It is
important to break the paradigm of northern colonial powers
judging the south. Moreover, this case was brought by victims,
who traveled to Senegal where Habre has lived since
1990 in order to testify.
It
was devastating when in July 2000 Senegalese courts dropped
the charges against Habre, in a move that was clearly politically
engineered. Habre is once again secure in his country of exile.
Still, even when prosecutions fail to culminate in convictions,
they nonetheless have an important effect. To quote Louise
Arbour, 'it makes the world a smaller place for these people.'
They cannot move about freely. Habre will not be leaving Senegal
any time soon. The effort to prosecute him is tremendously
important, because all of the previous precedents have been
in Europe.
In
contemplating the relative merits of criminal vs. civil prosecutions,
civil cases can only be brought in the U.S., if I'm not mistaken.
Criminal cases require the daunting mechanism of the state,
and so can be harder to get off the ground. The Pinochet and
Habre criminal prosecutions were exceptions, in that they
were brought originally by victims [not governments].
Criminal
prosecutions are more punitive. It's justice. If we don't
prosecute, impunity creates contempt for the law. Unless we
prosecute, the law will never enter the calculus of repression.
Prosecuting is not only about the past. It's about the future.
It's saying, 'Today's it's Pinochet, tomorrow it could be
you.'
Reed
Brody is the Director of Global Advocacy, Human Rights Watch,
New York
William
Bourdon
Secretary-General of the International
Federation of Human Rights
(Mr.
Bourdon and I corresponded, via e-mail, in French. His comments
appear below, in my translation. MF)
It
is important to emphasize that virtually all of the predictions
made at the beginning of Augusto Pinochet's arrest in London
on October 16, 1998, were proven wrong. In Chile, many political
figures and not just those from the conservative camp
implored London to release Pinochet out of fear that
there would be a civil war or, at the very least, a destabilization
of democracy. Exactly the opposite happened.
For their part, international human rights organizations and
other observers held that it was absolutely impossible to
ever prosecute Pinochet in Chile. Exactly the opposite
happened. In fact, what we saw was a kind of virtuous
boomerang effect, in which European judges awakened their
Chilean peers to the vigor of international law, impelling
them, in effect, to reclaim their natural prerogatives.
So
the Pinochet Affair cleared the way for very significant political
effects.
The
conceptual developments are much less spectacular, when we
bear in mind that the Nuremberg Tribunal already established
that no one, regardless of official position, is exempt from
prosecution for crimes against humanity. Louise Arbour [Chief
Prosecutor, International War Crimes Tribunal for the former
Yugoslavia] confirmed this when, on May 24, 1999, she issued
international arrest orders for five individuals, including
Slobodan Milosevic, President of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia.
The
real conceptual leap will come when a criminal head of state,
traveling on government business and/or at the invitation
of a foreign chief executive, can be arrested by a domestic
judge, rather than by an international tribunal. This eventuality,
articulated in Article
27 of the Statute of the International Criminal
Court, is met today with great resistance.
A
direct legal consequence of Pinochet's detention was the February
2000 arrest in Dakar of Chad's ex-dictator, Hissein Habre.
[According to a 1992 Truth Commission, Habre's regime is responsible
for 400,000 political murders and 200,000 counts of torture.]
The [July 4] reversal of charges by the Chambre d'Accusation
[Indicting Chamber] was a terrible setback; it remains to
be seen whether the Cours de Cassation [Court of Appeals]
will uphold that bad decision. In the present climate, it
would take a great deal of courage for those judges to reinstate
the charges.
The very incarnation of despotism and dictatorship in Africa,
is Laurent Kabila, president of the Democratic Republic of
Congo. There is no doubt but that he should be charged with
torture, forced disappearance, crimes against humanity.
We
must bear in mind that certain obstacles to international
criminal prosecutions derive from the human rights culture
we are trying to protect. For example, many NGOs oppose capital
punishment and therefore must withdraw or withhold arrest
orders if the tyrant would be subject to violence upon return
to his native country. That is exactly the case with Mengistu,
who would be executed if he were returned to Ethiopia.
A
second obstacle is that the most serious crimes are often
covered up through political alliances with other countries.
This helps explain the resistance we saw in France 1995-96
to prosecuting some of the men responsible for the Rwandan
genocide. Even though these individuals had fled to French
territory and were clearly vulnerable under the UN Torture
Convention, France did nothing. The fact is, certain French
services had been involved in Rwandan affairs, with support
at the highest levels.
A
third obstacle is what we might call 'judicial chauvinsm.'
In most countries and I'm by no means excluding Europe
judges find it difficult to acknowledge the primacy
of international law. They are still unfamiliar with the newest
juridical developments related to the fight against impunity.
Even if things have evolved in France and a few other countries,
there is still a great deal to be done in terms of education,
so that magistrates and judges will be up to date.
The
fourth obstacle has to do with the lack of harmony between
the judicial systems of different countries (a difficulty
clearly demonstrated in the Pinochet prosecution.) This problem
should essentially be solved by establishment of the International
Criminal Court.
The
most difficult task for an NGO, or any human rights organization,
is how to establish a list of prosecutable crimes. Although
suffering is universal, not all crimes are subject to universal
jurisdiction. We must limit ourselves to those offenses that
are clearly defined in ratified human rights treaties and
conventions. The ICC Statute cites genocide (in Article 6),
crimes against humanity (Article 7), war crimes (Article 8).
My personal conviction is that we must make the best possible
use of existing texts and legislation. It is morally reprehensible
to lead victims to believe that everything is possible. In
this regard, it must be said that the Pinochet case occasionally
fueled unrealistic hopes.
I
think that NGOs have a triple responsibility:
- To
be rigorous in their calls for, and execution of, international
arrests, so that the process is not undermined by politics
or ideology.
- To
help the "forgotten" victims of crimes against humanity
break their silence. There are numerous ways to do this.
In response to the atrocities committed in Sierra Leone,
the Security Council has approved in principle the establishment
of a Mixed International Tribunal, to be located in a neighboring
country, and composed of magistrates from various nations.
It is to be hoped that the victims of the crimes committed
in Liberia will see a similar execution of justice.
- To
discourage Nations from interpreting human rights conventions
in an overly restrictive and reductive way. To encourage
more modern readings that will lead to a more ambitious
pursuit of justice. As an example: in the Pinochet prosecution,
Judge Bartle interpreted forced disappearance as an act
of torture. That is not explicitly articulated in the UN
Torture Convention, nor is it universally accepted at the
international level. But one day it will be.
In
spite of personal trauma, legal difficulties, and political
complications, let it be said that all of the international
human rights prosecutions pending in France, Switzerland,
and Belgium have been brought, not by the Court, but by victims.
William
Bourdon is the Secretary General of the International Federation
of Human Rights, Paris.
Tom
Blanton
Executive Director of the National
Security Archive, Washington, D.C.
The list itself brings
us to the interesting question about the ways in which many
of these criminals find protection. Various countries are
complicit here, as we have seen. I would advocate taking a
rigorous look at the United States National Security Act of
1947, and its so-called "100 persons" provision, which allows
us, every year, to bring in and shelter 100 individuals considered
to be assets to our intelligence operations. Living here under
that law is Haiti's Toto Constant. A small-fry compared to
Cedrás, but still a leader in the death squads, Constant
was on the payroll of the CIA, and is now in the Witness Protection
Program. We really should have a detailed study of the "List
of 100" for every year that the NSA has been in force. We
have a right to know how that law has been used.
I would also like to see a list of vulnerable sitting heads
of state, it being understood that these prosecutions would
would be extremely difficult to obtain. On a scale of horror,
China's Jiang Zemin, has to be mentioned for having created
what is believed to be the largest gulag system in the world.
In 1999, the Guatemalan Historical Clarification Commission
made a finding of genocide against Ríos Montt, for
the slaying of tens of thousands of Mayan Indians. Fidel Castro
should be noted for extrajudicial killings from 1959-1961.
And Saddam Hussein for gassing the Kurds.
Tom
Blanton is the Executive Director of the National Security
Archive, Washington, D.C.
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