Remembering Auschwitz

St. Maximilian Kolbe's Cell at Auschwitz -- this was the only photo I could bring myself to take

Remembering Auschwitz – Today is the 70^th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz by Soviet military forces in 1945, so I thought it appropriate to take a few moments to reflect on genocide, history, human cost, and moral obligation. 

Auschwitz was the physical manifestation of the Third Reich’s so-called final solution, and it wasn't just one installation.  It was actually a network of concentration and extermination camps, established in Poland in 1940, that the Nazis kept building almost until the end of the war.  It’s pretty incredible when you think about it.  With everything else that was going on in the Reich, the Germans continued to pour their own blood and treasure into improving Auschwitz’s efficiency and expanding its reach.  The level of deliberation, calculation, and commitment to the horrific mission of the camps by so many otherwise rational, cultured, educated people is mind-boggling -- and a frightening testimony to the power of evil over the human heart.

I visited Auschwitz in 2003, not really knowing what to expect.  I knew its history.  But when you visit a concentration camp, or any other location where unspeakable horror has been perpetrated by or upon other human beings, you find yourself wondering what’s appropriate.  For example, I pulled my camera out to take a picture in front of the notorious “Arbeit Macht Frei” sign at the entrance to the camp.  Then I hastily put the camera back.  There were tours taking group photos and I was offended.  It just seemed disrespectful, even if it was intended to memorialize respectfully, so I ended up taking only two pictures during my entire visit.  Both were of the cell where the German Priest, Maximilian Kolbe starved to death in order to save a fellow prisoner.  I took the pictures because my church in Germany where I was living at the time, was the Parish of Saint Maximilian Kolbe.  It had been a bold move to name a German church after a modern saint who had died as a result of German atrocities.  My fellow parishioners (all German) wanted to see, from a pilgrim's perspective, the place where he died.      

The second thing that struck me was that Auschwitz was not just a crime against the Jews.  Yes, more than 1.1 million Jews are estimated to have died there.  But lost in that catastrophic quantity is that fact that tens of thousands of Slavs, Gypsies, homosexuals, Communists, Russian POW’s, and other Nazi-perceived sub-humans and enemies of the state perished there as well.  Their tragedy, however, is often reduced to a footnote.  I guess it’s a matter of scope and scale, but how is it that we get to the point where we process the murder of tens of thousands of people as being less significant?   

And then there were the shoes.  They really got to me, those buildings full of shoes.  The hair, teeth, and personal effects were moving too, but I couldn't tear myself away from the shoes.  In photos, it’s the high heels and baby shoes that stand out – familiar artifacts from “civilized” lives interrupted.  In real life, however, what I noticed was that the piles of shoes were full of rough-hewn wooden clogs, tattered scraps of old leather, and felt slippers designed to be tied on with pieces of rope and string.  These were not the footwear of city dwellers, shopkeepers, doctors, schoolteachers, housewives, and their children.  They were the shoes of the most poor and the most vulnerable.  The people who left clogs and foot-rags behind were not the ones who kept journals, wrote memoirs (if they survived) or had portraits and certificates to memorialize lives and accomplishments.  Instead, they were likely illiterate, anonymous, and without resources or champions.  I remember thinking, as I looked at the shoes, about the stories that hadn't been written.  How many holocaust accounts are out there that document the experience of peasant farmers, beggars, and gypsies?  I couldn't recall any, and it saddened me that while we maintain that all human life has equal value, the narrative of genocide is still influenced by caste and education. 

These are only a few of my reflections, but what it all comes down to is this: We tell ourselves that we will never forget and that those of us in "civilized" nations will not allow it to happen again.  Yet it does, all the time.  Evil manifests itself in atrocities and we turn a blind eye.  We try to find ways to justify non-intervention.  We question sources.  We over-analyze.  We over-think.  We get distracted.  We get busy.  We become numb.  But for today at least, on the 70^th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, I ask you to take a moment and reflect on man’s inhumanity to man and our moral obligation to counter the same.  At least 1.1 million individuals were murdered on the outskirts of a small Polish town.  We owe it to them to remember; we owe it to them to protect.

A Few Odds and Ends: Rule of Law Stories that Matter, but No One is Talking About – Almost every day I cache a story or incident that makes me ponder the significance of the rule of law, but since I am not one of those full time bloggers, it’s tough to write about them all.  Today of course, everyone wants to comment on the Paris massacre and the significance of the Charlie Hebdo attacks, and I do too – but as part of a larger conversation about how important journalism is to restoring, strengthening, and maintaining the rule of law.  I’m going to hold that thought for a series of posts in the very near future.  For now, I want to mention a few stories that I’m following because I think are more important than the attention they’re getting.

1.  The so-called “Silk Road Trial”:  This is a federal criminal case currently underway in New York against a man who is accused of using a web-page called “Mastermind,” to create an anonymous, online drug market.  He’s accused of running a narcotics, hacking and money laundering conspiracy, as well as a “kingpin” charge usually reserved for mafia dons and drug lords.  What’s interesting to me about the case is that it challenges state authority to regulate these emerging electronic black and gray markets, as well as government authority to use the same tools that hackers and criminals use to circumvent the law in the government’s own efforts to detect, deter, and investigate possible criminal activity.  The case is a cause célèbre for online libertarians who want to restrict the power of the state over the internet.  Ironically, it comes at a time when western governments are increasingly trying to strengthen their ability to control illicit networks and curtail terrorist financing that is empowered by the internet.  Read more here: http://www.wired.com/2015/01/why-silk-road-trial-matters/

2.  The ongoing tragedy of Ukrainian military pilot Nadia Savchenko:  If you recall, Savchenko, Ukraine’s first female fighter pilot and a celebrity in her native country, was kidnapped by the Russians in Eastern Ukraine and spirited across the border into a Russian prison.  She has been charged with the murder of two Russian journalists who were allegedly killed during bombing raids in separatist-controlled parts of Ukraine.  Savchenko is a Ukrainian citizen, and was executing lawful orders in the performance of her military mission at the time.  Let’s just call this what it is:  A show trial by the Russians that is a blatant violation of the Law of Armed Conflict; a clear violation of Ukrainian sovereignty and Savchenko’s rights as Ukrainian citizen; and a crime (kidnapping, in case you forgot that part).  You can read the latest here:  http://www.rferl.org/content/ukraine-russia-savchenko-solitary/26784896.html

3.  The conviction of Raif Badawi, a Saudi Arabian blogger:  Against the backdrop of the Charlie Hebdo massacre which was a stated attack on freedom of speech and freedom of the press by radical Islamic extremists, the Saudi government calmly began carrying out a sentence of 1,000 lashes and 10 years in jail against Badawi, the co-founder of a now-banned website called the Liberal Saudi Network.  The website was designed to create political dialogue and debate.  Badawi was convicted of cybercrime and insulting Islam.  His defense attorney didn't come out of the process unscathed either.  He himself was sentenced to 15 years in prison after being found guilty of a range of offenses in an anti-terrorism court that included “inciting public opinion,” “insulting the judiciary,” and “undermining the regime and officials.”  There are so many issues wrapped up in this case that it’s difficult to know where to begin, which is precisely why it should grab and hold our attention.  http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/jan/08/saudi-arabia-blogger-raif-badawi-public-flogging

4.  Finally, let’s not forget the ongoing Ebola crisis in West Africa.  The world’s attention is elsewhere, but thousands have died and more than 500 health care workers have contracted the terrible disease;  the governments of Sierra Leone and Liberia have yet to demonstrate the capacity to manage the situation; and international capacity building efforts predominately consist of sending in western advisers to substitute their capacity for that of the affected nations.   Is this a medical and humanitarian crisis?  Yes.  However, there is a long term health care governance development effort that is needed, and as the immediate catastrophe subsides, it’s important that we take the long view in our plans for future foreign assistance.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and the Joy of Being Able to Celebrate Our Freedom of Religion

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and the Joy of Being Able to Celebrate Our Freedom of Religion – First and foremost, I want to wish anyone who is reading this a very merry Christmas, and for my Jewish friends, a wonderful Hanukkah celebration.  It’s always special when the dates of these two holidays coincide as they do this year.  It makes my Christian family get-togethers with our close Russian friends who are practicing Jews all the more meaningful.  In fact, one of the things we celebrate with them is their ability to openly proclaim their religious heritage and belief.  It is something that they frequently talk about since they couldn't do that without fear of reprisal in Soviet Russia.  Discussing the current trends in Russia, they often express their fears of a return to a time of repression in their native country.

According to the Pew Research Foundation, more than a third of all countries in the world “severely restrict” religious practice.  The U.S. State Department reports that religious persecution is at an all time high, and “all around the world, individuals are subjected to discrimination, violence and abuse, perpetrated and sanctioned violence for simply exercising their faith, identifying with a certain religion, or choosing not to believe in a higher deity at all.”  We are watching entire religious communities in North Africa and the Middle East being all but eradicated.  And across the globe, religious minorities are under attack in every way possible – legally, socially, and mortally.  In sum, religious freedom is becoming increasingly precious.

I've lived and worked in some of these countries and can attest first hand to the chilling effect that religious repression has on individual expression, freedom of conscience, and freedom of choice.  It is no way to live.

It seems appropriate then to reflect on what we have in America –the ability to practice any religion we choose (or none at all), openly and without governmental prejudice.  I have little sympathy for the freedom from religion advocates that are so adamant about ensuring we limit outward displays of the religious nature of our holidays in public places.  I fear that in our zeal to be “inclusive,” with all of our deliberately neutral “happy holiday” greetings and carols, we forget just how special it is that we CAN say “Merry Christmas,” or “Happy Hanukkah,” or any other acknowledgement of the religious origins of a particular holiday or event.   So Merry Christmas everyone.  It’s what I’m celebrating and I’m happy to be able to proclaim it.  After all, why would we want to constrain ourselves when our very freedom to profess our chosen belief is so remarkable?

Corruption in Afghanistan – Does the Ghani Government Have a Chance?

Corruption in Afghanistan – Does the Ghani Government Have a Chance?

Michelle Hughes meeting with the Director of Criminal Investigation, Afghan National Police

I had the opportunity last week to speak at a NATO Building Integrity “Expert Consultation.”  NATO planners were trying to figure out the best way to target corruption in the Afghan National Security Forces during the coming year.  Resources will be scarce, access limited, and influence reduced with the security draw down.  So what, if anything, they asked, can be done?

For me, one of the great things about the consultation was that for the most part, the participants were true subject matter experts.  Here were people who had spent years on the ground, struggling to make sense of the Afghan government, the ISAF coalition, and international donor objectives.  Working with all of these very complex elements of the development puzzle, in an ever-shifting framework for cooperation and oversight, was a challenge that each person in the room understood all too well.  The insights and the discussions on what can and must be done in 2015 and beyond were genuinely insightful, and well-informed by experience. 

What struck me within the first hour of the consultation was the sad consensus that there had been a “magical window of opportunity” in Afghanistan from approximately 2009 – 2011, but that the international community had squandered it by focusing on quantity over quality, and short-term outputs over  long-term outcomes.  Accountability and oversight, and building the right capacity to ensure it, simply was not a priority.  We said that it was, but didn't mainstream the concept into our capacity building plans as a condition predicate to assistance; as an essential element of all other training, equipping, and advising we were doing; or as a “testable item” for senior leader performance.  As a result, anti-corruption took a backseat to other, more tangible and easily measured development activities.  The resultant Afghan perception was that corruption didn't matter that much to the international community after all.

So here we are.  Full responsibility for security has passed to a new Afghan government, but the capacity to oversee and control security force performance remains questionable.  International development and economic assistance is greatly reduced, but the Afghan economy is now hostage to entrenched corruption and graft.  Even with political will, the Afghans lack the technical capacity to detect, investigate, and successfully prosecute complex financial crimes and criminal networks.  After 12 years of police and justice sector development, the core competencies simply do not exist on a sufficient scale to even begin to tackle the problem.  Candidly (because I was there), the skills that are now needed were not even meaningful components of our police or prosecution development programs at the height of our assistance.  They were not seen as critical to the fight.

But they are critical to winning the war – the war that the new Ghani-Abdullah government must wage against corruption if it is to have any hope of legitimacy, economic growth, or sustainable security.  Anti-corruption may not have been a development priority before, but it has to become so now if Afghanistan is to survive.  If it isn't, then the Ghani government really doesn't stand a chance.

Building Regional Capacity and What Right Really Looks Like – the Loyola University Chicago-African Union Rule of Law Partnership

Building Regional Capacity and What Right Really Looks Like – the Loyola University Chicago-African Union Rule of Law Partnership 

Signing Ceremony for the Loyola-AU Rule of Law Partnership

In my profession, when we talk about building governance capacity and strengthening the rule of law, the terms “local ownership” and “best practice” get thrown around a lot.  In my experience, however, that usually translates to mean that some donor has come up with a good development idea, put some donor money behind it, and sold it to whoever the intended recipient is -- be it an individual, government, or community of interest.   In Afghanistan, I got used to hearing the constant exhortation to “put an Afghan face on it,” and during my work in Africa, the constant refrain was that if a development project was to succeed, we needed to get local “buy-in” so that “local ownership” would exist.  This was “best practice.”  But if you have to “sell” someone on a development idea, “build” local ownership, or “put a "local face” on your development project, then is the initiative really locally owned? Of course not.  It's merely, shall we say, locally received.

Which is why the recently-signed Memorandum of Understanding between Loyola University Chicago School of Law and the African Union (AU) to strengthen the capacity of the AU and the African Regional Economic Communities (RECs) is such a great example of what true rule of law development can look like.    Under the terms of the MOU, qualified staff and employees of the AU, RECs, and key AU member states will attend Loyola’s unique one-year Master of Laws in Rule of Law for Development (known as “PROLAW”).  PROLAW provides a practice-oriented program of study aimed at graduating rule of law professionals who can be reformers, advocates, and leaders within their own countries and regions.  PROLAW aims to break the cycle of substituted capacity.  It treats rule of law reform like the core governance function that it is.  This approach is appropriate for a regional body such as the AU, which is trying to improve its own internal ability to manage the overwhelming challenges to effective governance and the rule of law that exist on the African continent.

Rather than relying on outside advisers to advance social justice, effective governance, and rule of law reform, PROLAW graduates from developing countries are prepared to assume the task themselves.  PROLAW students who are development professionals from donor countries are taught how to foster and develop human capital so that the real yeoman’s work of reform can take place from within.  Full disclosure here – I have been an adviser to the PROLAW team since February -- but my association came about because I believe passionately that the PROLAW approach is what works for sustainable development.  It’s how “local ownership” really happens.    

From Boko Haram to ISIS, Ebola containment to security sector reform, and corruption to human rights and gender equality, the AU faces monumental governance and security challenges on a scale that goes beyond those faced by NATO, ASEAN, the OAS, or any other regional body.  But the AU has a capacity building vision that doesn't require that AU “buy-in” be built. The Loyola partnership was, in fact, an AU concept that originated with Professor Vincent Nmehielle, the AU’s Legal Counsel and Director of Legal Affairs and was enthusiastically endorsed by the AU leadership.  Prof. Nmehielle shared the vision with Loyola and Loyola responded.  In many ways, their dialogue echoed that which had occurred on a much larger scale with the US and international support for Plan Colombia back in the late 1990’s, a widely understudied example of a locally-generated strategy that can progress when donors are willing to get onboard.

At the signing ceremony, which took place at the AU Mission to the US in Washington DC on October 24, Professor Nmehielle discussed the AU concept.  He talked about the fact that most of the conflicts in Africa are caused by lack of development, injustice, and inequality.  He further emphasized that the ability of the AU to resource people who really understand the local context is vital, and he spoke of the need to enable young African men and women to build an army of professionals who understand what the AU stands for, and who can help build the vision of African integration.  This MOU represented an AU idea, and the AU leadership owned it from the beginning. 

In addition to the AU staff who will attend the one-year degree program, the Loyola-AU MOU establishes a framework for in-service training that will take place in the form of short seminars and training at the AU Headquarters in Addis Ababa.  Topics will be chosen by the AU leadership to reflect AU priorities, and will complement the more extensive coursework that will be going on at the University’s John Felice Center in Rome (where PROLAW is taught).  By the end of the first three years of the program, the AU and RECs will have graduated 15 mid-level AU staffers from the University, and more than 100 support staff will have been trained to support them.  That’s 150 connected, empowered professionals within one regional structure – not an insignificant outcome.  The US State Department is providing the seed money to kick it off, but one of the goals of the program is to make it largely self-sustaining after the first cohort has been established. 

It’s a great idea that could become a model for capacity building within a regional context, and that’s best practice.  It’s what right looks like and we should all be following it to see what results.

For further details, see http://legal.au.int/en/content/african-union-and-loyola-university-chicago-sign-milestone-memorandum-understanding; http://blogs.luc.edu/pressreleases/?s=African+Union and https://www.facebook.com/StateINL

Why the Ebola Crisis is a Rule of Law Problem

Why the Ebola Crisis is a Rule of Law Problem:  As I write this, the World’s largest outbreak of Ebola continues unabated.  International health organizations are predicting that the death toll will continue to rise exponentially, the economic impact on West Africa is beginning to be discussed, and the United States is (literally) sending in the Marines.  And as normally happens, the blame game on who is responsible for letting it get so out of hand has begun.

But most current discussions continue to miss a key point.  The Ebola crisis is a terrible case study about what can happen when you combine a deadly communicable disease with serious gaps in governance and the rule of law. 

It’s important to point out that West Africa, and Liberia and Sierra Leone in particular, has been the recipient of an enormous amount of foreign assistance.   As Liberia and Sierra Leone emerged from their brutal civil wars, the international community poured resources into the countries.  Governmental structures were restored, security forces re-trained and re-equipped, and essential services of every type were reinstated.  Supposedly.  I’d like to also point out that when donors in West Africa talked about objectives and risks, the threat of pandemic was always high on the list.  But honestly, from my own experience in Liberia, it was really more of a block that was checked: “Yes, of course we've considered the threat of pandemic . . .”

So what has been the result of all that foreign aid?  Well, we now have a public health crisis with global implications that West African governments have been completely and utterly unable to manage.  It’s one thing to build and equip a hospital or clinic; it’s another to build a public health system that can manage it – capably and accountably.  It’s one thing to train doctors and nurses; it’s a different development challenge to train health care professionals who can adapt to crisis and change, and oversee government performance of emerging public health care needs.   It’s one thing to train and equip government security forces to respond to national security threats; but training them to be credible first responders during a national health and safety disaster requires another set of skills and a different mindset regarding roles, responsibilities, and public information.

These are core governance and rule of law issues, but what has been evident to date that governments in the affected countries were not equipped to respond in a responsible, credible, way.  Nor were they trusted by their own people to do so.  Rural populations have either ignored government warnings and advice, or refused to even believe it.  Corruption and incompetence have created such an extreme level of mistrust between the government and the governed that in some parts of the affected countries, people would rather die than follow a government directive.  As for efforts to contain the spread through measures such as airport screening at point of departure?  Well, despite pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into re-building critical transportation infrastructure and customs and border capacity, there is not enough oversight in these countries to ensure that screeners adhere to the standards, and no assurances that they are even enforcing them equally to all passengers.   

If we are going to play the blame game, or more positively, if we are going to assess what type of capacity building is needed to contain Ebola and prevent future pandemic, we owe it to ourselves and the citizens of the countries we help to take a hard look at how we are building governance capacity.  Top down capacity building that will strengthen the host nations’ ability to manage and respond to crisis is key of course, but we have to also look how the level of accountability that we donors demand of the recipient governments; the checks and balances that they are required to build into their systems and enforce; and the means and methods governments have at their disposal to credibly communicate critical information to the public.   Bottom up capacity building – focused on community engagement on public health and safety -- has to be an equal part in the assistance equation as well.   

Building trust and confidence between the government and the governed is fundamental to maintaining the rule of law, and enforcing the rule of law is critical in times of crisis and uncertainty when governmental control is key to controlling the spread of a disaster.  As we look to the future of assistance in Africa, and ways in which we re-calibrate our response, we have to be realistic about the role that weak governance has played.  Although governance development is hard, and its results are less tangible that training, building, and equipping, it has to be the priority.  Otherwise, as the current pandemic has illustrated so tragically, most of the technical assistance is for naught.  

Where Politics are personal, relationships matter

Where Politics are personal, relationships matter --   

Meeting with litigants outside an Afghan provincial court to gauge their reactions after a hearing

An online article on the upcoming turnover of diplomats at the U.S. Embassy in Kabul in Foreign Policy caught my attention this morning.  It talked about the fact that this summer, at a critical juncture in the U.S. relationship with the Afghan government, almost all of our diplomats with Afghan experience will be leaving, replaced by Foreign Service Officers who have little to no experience with the Afghan government.  This is a huge problem, and points to issues that I've been seeing in most post conflict environments -- the absence of continuity among development professionals and the inability of U.S. government officials to actively engage with their host nation counterparts.

Politics are personal everywhere you go, and especially in governments that are organized around tribal, familial, ethnic, and religious affiliations.  In these places, power sharing arrangements are negotiated between individuals based on relationships that are nearly impossible to discern from the outside.  There is a trust (and mistrust) component to every political deal.   As a result, to conduct effective development within the local context, it is essential that outside interveners get in and engage on an equally personal level.  One’s ability to influence the governance system is dependent on one’s ability to build a trust relationship with host nation counterparts.  Only then will they begin to share some of the hidden details of why things work the way they do, and what risks are involved if reform is to occur.  Close collaboration is everything, and if one is to be an effective adviser and development partner, one has to one must have the kind of nuanced understanding that can only be achieved through sustained presence and intelligent empathy. 

Unfortunately, there are several factors that are making this nearly impossible to achieve.  Personnel rotation policies favor quick-in/quick-out in order to mitigate the impact of separation and discomfort for our personnel abroad.  Within the military, deployment rotation cycles move key individuals in and out of a theater of operations in a matter of months, not years.  Within the civilian community, the problem is even worse.  Labor agreements ensure maximum consideration for working conditions, with minimal consideration for operational impact.  Furthermore, in the post-Benghazi environment, our tolerance for security risk is nil.  Embassy personnel are rarely allowed to leave protected compounds or headquarters unless security can be guaranteed.  The result is that we now have islands of diplomatic and development professionals who never see the reality of governance and rule of law in action in the countries that need effective development assistance the most.

I saw this firsthand when I returned to Afghanistan in January to conduct independent research on the future of the Afghan National Police.  I have been working on Afghanistan issues for five years and never before encountered so many key U.S. and international officials who were operating in a complete vacuum of personal experience and observation.  None of the individuals with whom I met had any meaningful contact with Afghan leaders on their “home turf.”  They had never seen an Afghan governing body in action, never seen a court in session, never observed police performance outside that of the customs and immigration officers at the international airport, and never had the opportunity to talk with Afghans who were trying to access justice or other government services.  And yet these were the people who were making policy recommendations, programming decisions, and evaluating resource strategies for development.  It was startling, and even a bit shocking.  The Afghan officials with whom I also met were aware of the problem, and resentful.  After all, they pointed out, they were the ones who suffer the impact of ill-conceived,  ill-informed, and poorly evaluated development.      

I understand the security and personnel concerns.  But the bottom line is that that governance and rule of law development is a participative and collaborative process.  If we say this is an important U.S. strategic objective, then our own bureaucratic decisions must enable relationship building and allow the necessary trust to be established.  Our personnel must accept inconvenience, separation, and assume a certain degree of intelligent risk, and they have to be empowered to do so.  If we’re unwilling or unable to build the relationships necessary to effectively engage in partnered development, then frankly, we might just as well go home.