A PRAYER FOR DARFUR
April 10, 2005 The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
I don’t go to a lot of movies; I just don’t take the time. But I did make the effort to go see Hotel Rwanda a couple of months ago – the very powerful story of the man who risked his life to save so many innocent people during the genocide in that country ten years ago. It was not a pleasant film to watch – so much human anguish and brutality; so much inhumanity. But mostly it was uncomfortable because of the question that kept going through my mind as I watched it: “Where was I while all this was going on? How did we let this happen?” I watched it in shock and dismay – as if I hadn’t a clue about it at the time.
But of course I did; we all did. It was in the newspapers and on television. I remember struggling to understand the conflict, and feeling hopeless to do anything about it. And I suspect that I was relieved, on some level, when the news of Rwanda faded into the background, replaced by something else to occupy my mind.
The same thing has happened with the situation in Darfur, I think. There was quite a bit of coverage of it for a little while. We probably all struggled to understand the conflict, and felt pretty powerless to do anything about it. And then the Tsunami hit southeast Asia, and all our attention – as well as all our financial support – went there, and Darfur was dropped from sight.
I remember a political cartoon during that time, showing two African children standing on a hilltop, looking longingly at a relief plane flying above them, heading for southeast Asia. One of the children is holding a sign that says “Sudan,” except there’s a “t” in front of the “S” – like in the word “tsunami.” He says to the other child, “I thought it was worth a try.” But the world had passed them by, once again.
So when I received an e-mail from our Unitarian Universalist United Nations Office, announcing that they’d chosen today – April 10th – as “Darfur Sunday,” I didn’t want to ignore it – even though I’d already published the title and description of a different sermon topic for today. I didn’t want to find myself ten years from now watching a movie about what’s being called “the greatest humanitarian catastrophe in the world today,” and wondering again where I was while it was going on.
According to one resource, “not since the Rwanda genocide…has the world seen such a calculated campaign of slaughter, rape, starvation and displacement.” It’s estimated that at least 250,000 people have died in Darfur; the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee estimates that approximately 1,000 people are dying every day – not only from the violence, but from starvation and mounting disease as well. Over 2 million have been displaced by the violence; and over 200,000 have fled across the border to Chad. Yet the international community has stood by and done fairly little until recently.
The roots of the conflict in Darfur go back as far as the early 1600s, when there was an influx into the region of nomadic Arabs. Rivalries developed between them and the indigenous African tribes because of the scarcity of resources, particularly water and grazing land, and because of a difference in agricultural practices. Still, over time, the different groups were able to work out their differences through mediation, rather than engaging in armed conflict.
It wasn’t until the late 20th century that mediation was abandoned, when a rivalry developed between Sudan’s Islamic north and non-Islamic south. It grew more and more volatile, until in 1983 it mushroomed into a civil war. In 1989 the National Islamic Front staged a military coup, overthrowing the elected Sudanese government. The new regime favored the so-called “Arab” groups, and denied the citizens of Darfur – a mixture of “African” tribes – a fair share of national resources and political representation.
This was, of course, a signal to the Arab groups that their traditional enemies, the “Africans,” were fair game. But it also eventually, in February of 2003, spurred the African tribal groups to mount their own response, in which they were able to seize military equipment from the badly trained and poorly motivated Sudan army.
The government of Sudan then shifted its strategy, enlisting an army of “Arab” allies, called the Janjaweed, and using them to attack civilians who might support the African rebels. The government armed the Janjaweed, gave them start-up salaries, and told them that they could take the rest of their pay in the satisfaction of eliminating their long-time enemies, the Africans of Darfur. The government directed many of the attacks, and often provided the intelligence for them.
While there have been some attempts, by the United States and the African Union, to rectify the situation, nothing has been able to abate the appalling murders, rapes and other human rights abuses against the citizens of Darfur. The government of Sudan has promised to disarm the Janjaweed, but to date there is no evidence they have even tried. Indeed, all indications are that the government is continuing to fully support the militia – with funding, weapons, and even aerial bombardments of explosives and barrels of nails. In an article in the Washington Post, photographer Brian Steidle said that before attacks on villages occur, the government actually shuts down the phone systems, making it impossible for villagers to warn one another.
Mukesh Kapila, the former U.N. humanitarian coordinator for Sudan, says that the violence in Darfur is “an organized attempt to do away with” an entire group of people. In one area of Darfur, where 70,000 civilians once lived, there is now no one left.
The government is also being accused of systematically blocking humanitarian aid workers from access to Darfur. According to Human Rights Watch, the government has arbitrarily arrested or detained at least 20 aid workers since last December – primarily on charges of minor infractions of bureaucratic procedures, but also for “suspect activities,” such as possessing public reports on the human rights situation in Darfur, and photos and videos of displaced persons interviewed in the camps.
More seriously, last December officials of the Sudanese government obtained so-called “confessions” from several foreign aid workers, who were then detained and threatened with indefinite detention and criminal charges, including capital offenses, if they didn’t apologize on film.
I think I will never understand how anyone can participate in the kind of atrocities we’ve seen in Darfur. How can any human being do such terrible violence to another human being – especially to innocent children? Have they not been a parent themselves? Do they not remember their own vulnerable childhood? Where has their humanity gone?
Nor can I understand the ability of powerful nations to stand by and do nothing. Just as with the crises in Rwanda, the international community has seemed reticent to respond until this past year. 3,000 African Union troops are finally being slowly deployed in Darfur on a limited mandate. But while the United Nations has, over the past year, passed two or three resolutions calling on the Sudanese government to prevent these “crimes against humanity,” still it has refused to use the word “genocide” when describing the situation – a move which would put far more demands on nations to take action.
Our own government, surprisingly, has condemned it as genocide; Colin Powell, Condoleeza Rice and President Bush have all used that language. On the other hand, they have refused to support a U.N. resolution calling for prosecution of “crimes against humanity” by the International Criminal Court. Instead, the Bush Administration proposed splitting a draft resolution by the U.N. Security Council into three separate resolutions, none of which would authorize such prosecution by an international tribunal.
Nevertheless, on March 31st, the United Nations Security Council did vote to refer cases of alleged atrocities to the International Criminal Court. Last Tuesday, the U.N. gave ICC prosecutors thousands of documents, along with a sealed list of 51 people to be investigated for alleged war crimes in Darfur.
And in the United States Senate, the Darfur Accountability Act of 2005 has been introduced, to “impose sanctions against perpetrators of crimes against humanity in Darfur, Sudan, and for other purposes.” Some of these “other purposes” involve imposing sanctions on the Government of Sudan, and ensuring “prompt prosecution…in a competent international court of justice,” of alleged perpetrators. All of these actions, while late, could have powerful results.
At the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C., these words are engraved: “Thou shalt not be a victim. Thou shalt not be a perpetrator. Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander.” Too often we have become “bystanders” to the tragedies of the world, watching but doing nothing. It’s not because we aren’t compassionate and committed people; it’s because we feel overwhelmed with the bigness of the tragedy; we do not know what to do. But there are things we can do.
In your Order of Service, there is a sample letter to send to Senators Boxer and Feinstein, asking them to co-author the Darfur Accountability Act. (Thanks to Dave Margerum, there are extra copies of this letter on our Social Action Alliance table in the Pavilion, so that you can send one to both Senators. The letter was included in the materials sent out by the UU-UN Office; I encourage you to either send it as is (after inserting the Senator’s name, and signing your own, of course!), or re-write it into your own words. But I urge you to send it this week.
Taking such action is crucial; it is one way to pray for the victims of genocide. But let us also pray with our hearts – and perhaps even our words – that the perpetrators of the violence in Darfur will one day soon be touched by love; will be reminded that they are part of the same human family as the people they’re harming. Let us pray that the Spirit of Life that flows through us all will awaken the people of Sudan – shed light on their connection with one another, so that they can put down their weapons, and live as one people once again.
And let us pray that we never forget them; that we learn to hold all of the participants of this tragedy – no matter what part they play in it – in our circle of love.
A trauma nurse who worked for the International Rescue Committee for three months in Darfur wrote this as she prepared to leave:
It is the staff and the displaced in the camps that I will always remember.
I will remember Abdullah, a resident of the Kalma camp who works with us as a medical assistance, and the time I saw him cradle a dying baby as though it were his own.
There is Abdul, the tailor, whose horrific burns inflicted by the Janjaweed mean that he will sew no more. Neither will he cradle his children. He is unable to even wipe away his own tears.
There is Melha, a widowed mother of 10 when her village was attacked last spring. During the ensuing chaos, she was separated from seven of her children. She has not seen them since that mournful day. She has no idea if they are dead or alive. And so she holds her three remaining children close. And she waits.
“How can I ever say goodbye to these noble, graceful people, to this place?” writes the nurse. “I cannot, and so like a precious string of pearls, I will carry their names and memories, tucked safely into my heart.”
We, too – so far from this human tragedy – can carry these people and their stories “like a precious string of pearls” in our hearts. And we can pray for them and for us – not only with our words of hope, but through our acts of compassion and commitment. We know how to do that; we can support one another in such prayerful acts.
In closing I offer this prayer sent from the UU-United Nations Office of our Association:
Merciful and compassionate Spirit…
Be present to the suffering people of Sudan;
Shelter the widows and the children;
Comfort all who are weary and afraid;
Bring relief to those who hunger and thirst;
Center our thoughts with those who suffer in silence;
Move us to recall our shared humanity;
Unite us in our determination to respond to injustice.
May we never forget! May we never forget!
Hear our prayer. Make our action swift.
So may it be. Amen.
© 2004 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
