Mounting dangers are forcing humanitarian workers to rethink the way they deliver relief
By KEVIN SPURGAITIS
As the Sri Lankan military cornered the separatist Tamil Tigers along the country’s northern coast, ending a quarter-century civil war, more than 1,000 civilians — many with amputations or chest wounds — were holed up inside the region’s remaining hospital in Puthukkudiyiruppu. During 16 hours of cluster bombing on and around the facility, more than 50 people were killed — a toll that included patients, their relatives and at least one health aide. Overwhelmed doctors were reduced to handing out gauze and bandages to the seriously wounded — and leaving dead bodies entirely unattended.
The converging hostilities in May also resulted in the bombing death of Red Cross worker Mayuran Sivagurunathan and his mother, and prevented a Red Cross ferry off the coast from delivering food aid and evacuating the wounded, according to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), the non-partisan organization that assists victims of war and armed violence, as well as its participants. As one Red Cross employee expressed at the time, it was an “unimaginable humanitarian catastrophe.”
As global emergencies mount at head-spinning speed, aid groups are increasingly caught in the crossfire. Last year was the most dangerous year on record for aid workers, and 2009 isn’t looking much better. According to the Overseas Development Institute, a British think tank on international humanitarian issues, 260 humanitarian aid workers were killed, seriously injured and kidnapped in 2008 — the highest toll this past decade. The number of deaths among aid workers even exceeded that of UN peacekeepers. The reasons for the increase are as varied and complicated as the situations themselves, but it would seem that humanitarian aid just isn’t sacrosanct any more. As a result, relief organizations, some faith-based, are rethinking how they deliver it.
“There’s always a certain amount of danger and a dire risk of being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time,” says Bernard Barrett, spokesperson for the International Committee of the Red Cross. “But in recent years, we’ve seen a sharp increase in the numbers of casualties among our ranks. We continue to emphasize our neutrality. We do not make public pronouncements, pointing the figure at one side or the other. And yet, we’re facing more and more these hostilities.”
It’s now been 150 years since the adoption of the Geneva Conventions — what began as merchant Henry Dunant’s appeal for fallen soldiers in the war-ravaged plain of Normandia, north of Italia. The occasion, however, is marked with barely the raising of a glass. Enshrined to protect the sick, wounded and shipwrecked during wartime, the document evolved in 1949 and again in 1977 to guarantee the protection of humanitarian workers in conflicts. These protections include the right of aid workers to be treated humanely, to be free from violence to life and person, hostage taking, humiliating or degrading treatment, and imprisonment. But events of the last 12 months suggest mounting disregard for the Conventions — and the lives and efforts of aid workers.
In Sudan’s Darfur region alone, 11 aid workers have been killed and 189 abducted in the past 12 months. In March, insurgents kidnapped four Médecins Sans Frontières employees — including Canadian nurse Laura Archer — then released them three days later. MSF would not comment on the situation out of respect for the victims and their families. But in a statement after her release, Archer said the following: “. . . I’m thrilled to be home safe, though my main concern is not about myself nor my colleagues but about the people left in Darfur. . . . I hope that we can all put our attention and energy on to the people of the region — on to the beneficiaries — and I hope that the implications from this kidnapping are not affecting the community that we treat.”
Also in March, a Sudanese relief worker with the Canadian-based Fellowship for African Relief (FAR) was killed in the western Darfur town of Kongo Haraza. Adam Khatir, 39, was shot by two gunmen in the courtyard of his home. The bandits wanted a satellite phone belonging to Khatir, who had been working in his home village for the last five years, building up local agriculture through seed donations. That same month, the Sudanese government expelled 13 major aid groups after the International Criminal Court issued an arrest warrant for President Omar Hassan al-Bashir, accused of war crimes and crimes against humanity. The region, meanwhile, continued to be wracked by famine and oppression, as well as large-scale outbreaks of tuberculosis, cholera and malaria.
Last winter, relations between Israel and humanitarian organizations grew tense during that government’s 13-day offensive in the Palestinian-occupied Gaza Strip. With the stated aim of stopping Hamas’ rocket attacks on southern Israel and arms smuggling in Gaza, Israel bombarded bases belonging to the leading Palestinian organization, as well as houses, churches, schools and medical facilities, including the Shaja’ih Family Healthcare Centre, funded by Canadian taxpayers through the Canadian International Development Agency. In all, 13 Israelis and nearly 1,500 Palestinians — including some 900 civilians — were killed during the offensive, according Reuters. Another 5,000 Palestinians were injured. But not all the casualties were combatants and civilians. During the two-week blitz, a Red Cross convoy came under Israeli fire at the Netzarim crossing, which left one driver wounded. CARE International employee Mohammed Ibrahim Samouni, a Palestinian father of six, was also killed while distributing food and medical supplies to hospitals, families and feeding centres. His son was critically injured.
But nowhere have workers’ woes been more frustratingly illustrated than in Iraq, where aid organizations have struggled to gain a meaningful foothold since the US-led invasion of 2003. At the height of the Iraq War, 22 members of a UN aid agency — including UN mission chief Sergio Vieira de Mello — were killed in the bombing of its Baghdad headquarters. After that, the killing and kidnapping of aid workers only worsened, just as they have in Afghanistan. With 72 abducted and at least 23 killed in militant attacks, 2008 was unquestionably the deadliest year for aid agencies in the country since the 2001 U.S.-led invasion that ousted the Taliban. Large and vulnerable swaths of the country — up to 50 percent — is now inaccessible to major humanitarian activities, according to the UN.
One of the biggest dangers facing aid workers is the perception that they’re taking sides. Kevin McCort, CARE Canada’s president and CEO, says, “Assaults on aid workers aren’t exactly random; it’s not about workers being caught up in a given circumstance. . . . Despite of our best efforts to keep our aid impartial and out of power struggles, sometimes warring parties go ahead and define our work by their own politics.”
He continues: “More and more, there’s a willingness by fighting forces to expand their tactics to aid workers. We’re no longer seen as external to the fight. Often times, the best way to take over a piece of land is to drive people out of it, and so, anyone delivering humanitarian assistance and enabling people to stay put is merely obstructing that objective, in some perspectives.”
The Red Cross’s Bernard Barrett says neutrality has long been his organization’s core principle, yet its historical red and white emblem — emblazoned on all T-shirts, tent canopies and vehicles — is too often disregarded. “We invest a lot of time with all the different groups involved in a conflict, whether they be government sources, community organizations, armed forces or even those who may be considered terrorists. We always remind folks of who we are and what we’re doing in order to get security guarantees. . . . But when you’re looking at a given conflict, you’re looking at a situation in which emotions and opinions become polarized. There’s always going to suspicions as to why we’re helping the other guy, and why we’re giving medicine and food to civilians on the other side. It’s frustrating.”
Wariness on the part of some governments also puts aid workers at risk. Gary Kenny, The United Church of Canada’s program co-ordinator for Southern Africa and Emergency Response, says, “Zimbabwe, especially, has been very suspicious of any western intervention or involvement. There’s a conception that NGO members are all spies, trying to undermine African sovereignty. So they watch local aid organizations — those connected to western countries — very carefully. They expel them if they deem it necessary. This is driven not only by one-dimensional or superficial military agendas; it’s born out of post-colonial thinking and an utter sense of desperation. Naturally, [the hostility] in some African countries runs pretty deep.”
Some militaries, including Canada’s, have taken up humanitarian action. On the surface, it’s a laudable effort, but it’s putting aid workers in jeopardy. For example, in Iraq, U.S. soldiers for a time dressed in T-shirts and concealed their weapons in order to distribute food and equipment to local populations. It was a blatant effort to win Iraqi hearts and minds, aid groups say. Exasperating relief workers further, the former U.S. administration went as far as dubbing American NGOs as “force multipliers” for the coalition army — a description that made humanitarian aid appear as an instrument of foreign policy and nothing more.
“(The co-opting of humanitarian aid) has undermined the ability of ours and other humanitarian organizations to address the critical needs of civilian populations,” says John Nduna, the director of Action by Churches Together International, the agency through which United Church does most of its relief work worldwide. In Iraq, ACT has assisted many of the 2.8 million displaced persons, distributed food and hygiene items to thousands of families, and in the most remote and poor areas of the country it has built 25 shelters for highly vulnerable families. “When humanitarian action is used for political or military ends, it only further blurs the lines between military personnel and relief workers. Insurgent groups wanting to strike back at military targets will then strike back at anyone Western-looking. And it’s easier to target an international aid agency; we’re the ones without guns and bombs.”
In light of the increasing risks to relief workers, aid agencies have embarked on a period of self-reflection. There’s no panacea. The situations are as wide-ranging as they are complex. However, one of the solutions, says Nduna, is for the aid sector to come up with new security guidelines and policies for workers. “We’ve had to shift our thinking dramatically in how we prepare our members, so that they can operate safely in hostile environments and continuously provide the assistance that’s so desperately needed. Also, we now exchange information about threats and risks with other organizations more than we ever did before.
While poverty and a lack of opportunity is a problem in war-torn regions, anti-western sentiment remains a major obstacle. The United Church’s Gary Kenny says good public relations is desperately needed moving forward. “You can make some inroads into countries by creating a different impression of the value and need of humanitarian aid. An exceedingly important goal is the employment of local populations at the grassroots level — the basis on which the United Church works. We’re more interested in strengthening the capacity of the people and organizations in which we’re in partnership instead of deploying expatriate personnel.”
Around the world, 96 percent of CARE International’s staff members are from the countries where they work. “It’s about working with local governments, community leaders and religious leaders and being as transparent and accountable as we can,” says McCort. “It’s incumbent on us to demonstrate that we’re not in any country to push an agenda other than ending global poverty.”
Small-time banditry is both a fact of life in many developing countries and a threat that needs to be addressed. Aid groups are taking extra measures to protect themselves: using padlocked gates and surveillance cameras, as well as security staff. Mark Simmons, FAR’s director in Sudan, says showing up in bullet proof flack jackets and helmets — accompanied by military escorts — would only build distance between workers and local populations. For the most part, organizations such FAR are adopting an “invisible” approach, keeping a low profile as they support the work of local partners.
With guarded optimism, foreign aid agencies have quietly redeployed expatriate workers to Iraq following a drop in violence in the country to four-year lows. In an effort stop military forces from co-opting humanitarian aid, many non-governmental organizations are strongly reinforcing their independence by moving their operations away from political and military ones — even toward more rural areas, where they can serve more vulnerable populations in relative peace.
Gone are the days when international aid organizations operated with widely perceived neutrality. But Barrett urges all those who support international aid agencies to keep hoping and to focus on their successes. “In spite of the hijackings and killings of the agencies’ workers, even as the world is pushed to the tipping point, we remain operational,” he says. “We can’t naively think that we’re going to be able to do everything for everyone. We just have to constantly remind ourselves what our specific role is — what we can realistically accomplish. And when in doubt of a particular situation, we have to remember to say ‘no’ rather than put ourselves — and, of course, the long-term mission of our organizations — in danger.”
Originally published in The United Church Observer, June 2009
