Mediation Training in Croatia

Having spent the past month feeling rather distant from the Insight staff in Boston, it is fortuitous timing that I should now find myself in Croatia assisting on a mediation training program. This opportunity came up during the summer thanks to Ericka Gray, who trained us in facilitation and mediation. She and Gabrielle Gropman, the former administrator of the Harvard Mediation Program, are working together with USAID and World Learning to train Croatian judges in mediation—a dispute resolution practice that is newly being introduced to the Croatian judiciary system.

Ericka brought up the possibility of the Fellows joining her as assistants during this training in Croatia and it all came together about a month ago. I arrived last night and met Rebecca at the hotel (Seisei unfortunately couldn't make it up from Kenya). We hadn't seen each other in two months and it was great to chat and catch up.

The main challenge we faced today was dealing with the simultaneous translation. Since most of the judges speak only a little English, we all wear headsets and have to deal with lags in translation, issues with the equipment, and remembering to speak very slowly to allow the translators enough time to keep up. Hopefully this won’t be too much of an impediment to the success of the training as a whole.

This morning we were up bright and early for a preparatory breakfast meeting with Ericka and Gaby, whom I was meeting in person for the first time. As we walked over to the Commercial Court building down the street, I was a bit nervous, and then I was really nervous when we arrived and we greeted by a group of 25 senior judges. But they were terribly warm and welcoming, and very excited about the training which got off to a great start. Rebecca and I mainly just assisted Ericka and Gaby—though our acting ‘skills’ were called upon for several short mediation demonstrations.

Closing In

First get your man. All the efforts to deter tyrants, warlords and genocidal murderers by setting up international tribunals will come to nothing if the suspects cannot be arrested. Without any form of enforcement mechanism of their own, most of the new courts have always known this. Yet slowly, if not surely, they are pulling in the suspects.

Germain Katanga, also known as “Simba”, is the latest catch. The alleged leader of the Patriotic Resistance Force in the north-eastern Congolese province of Ituri has been arrested and transferred to the International Criminal Court (ICC) in The Hague. He is only the second person to be handed over to the world's first permanent war-crimes court since it was set up in 2002. Thomas Lubanga Dyilo, another Congolese presumed to be a warlord, has been in the court's custody since March 2006. He was already in prison in Kinshasa, Congo's capital, when charged.

Of the seven others indicted by the ICC, four leaders of the Lord's Resistance Army, a rebel group in northern Uganda, are still on the run two years after warrants were issued for their arrest; a fifth has been killed. And the two other suspects, a Sudanese minister and a janjaweed leader, are unlikely to be caught soon, given Sudan's refusal even to recognise the court.

But Charles Taylor's impending war-crimes trial should have put the wind up a few despots. After three years of comfortable exile in Nigeria, the former Liberian president was handed over to a UN-backed Special Court last year. His trial is due to start in The Hague on January 7th.

Much has been made of the failure of the international war-crimes tribunal for ex-Yugoslavia to catch two Bosnian Serb leaders, Ratko Mladic and Radovan Karadzic. Both have been on the run for 12 years. Less has been said about the court's success in arresting all but four of the 161 men it has indicted. The Rwandan tribunal's record is only slightly less impressive. Of its 90 indicted suspects, just 14 are at large. One was caught in France last week, another in Germany last month, and the search continues for the rest.

Meanwhile, ordinary courts are showing less indulgence towards the high and mighty. Last month Chile's Supreme Court ordered the extradition to Peru of Alberto Fujimori, a former president of Peru, on charges of corruption and human-rights abuse. In Uruguay a federal appeals court confirmed charges of multiple murder against Juan María Bordaberry, the country's former president. An American court ordered the extradition of Manuel Noriega, Panama's ex-dictator, to France to serve a ten-year sentence for money-laundering. And Nuon Chea, “Brother Number 2” of the brutal Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia in the 1970s, was arrested and handed over to the new UN-backed war-crimes tribunal in the country's capital, Phnom Penh. The noose tightens.

London (The Economist, 25 October)

Accused #2

A surprise in the office last week: the Prosecutor issued an indictment against Germain Katanga, a Congolese militia leader. He was handed over to ICC authorities last week and had his first appearance at the Court today. Somehow, I managed to negotiate a front-row seat for the hearing. It was packed with media representatives and Court staff, all eager to see our second accused in the flesh. It all felt a bit circus-like, this diminutive young man in the courtroom fishbowl. Part of me felt badly for him… He is only 27 years old and has never even met his second child, who was born while he was imprisoned in the Democratic Republic of Congo. However, once the presiding judge started reading the list of charges against him, most of my pity dissolved. He is accused of forcibly enlisting child soldiers, of kidnapping young women and girls as sexual slaves, as well as several other war crimes and crimes against humanity. As I listened to some of the details of the charges, I could not help but think back to my experiences in East and Central Africa, meeting former child soldiers in Uganda, visiting a war-torn town in Eastern Congo, hearing witness testimony at the ICTR… While man’s inhumanity to man remains shocking and disheartening, the dedication and perseverance that I have witnessed here at the Court can only bring optimism.

Feeling distant...

Thanks to Eid El-Fitr, the end of Ramadan, the Court enjoyed a long weekend break. I decided to do a bit of travelling and took the train from Amsterdam to Paris. The view along the tracks was scenic, and the three-hour ride gave me the opportunity to reflect on my time thus far in The Hague. At this point, I am struggling a bit on the professional level. The time and distance from Boston has separated me from the concepts and skills learned over the summer, and I am finding it hard to link this placement to that experience. At times, I find myself thinking that, while I am ultimately very grateful for this opportunity at the ICC, this placement does not feel like it fits into the vision of the Fellowship program. There is no defined role for us as Fellows at the Court—I have no supervisor or tasks, so it is up to me to figure out how to maximize this experience. It has not been made easier by the Prosecutor’s extremely busy schedule, which has caused his office to cancel my appointments with him. Without his guidance and due to the distance from Insight, I feel a bit abandoned. However, I suppose that this is part of the challenge of this placement—a sentiment echoed by previous Fellows in my conversations with them. While I am having difficulties, it has strengthened my ties with them and this connection helps reinforce my purpose and motivation to make the best of the situation.

And the winner is...

Bike-naming competition entries in order received:

• Donor-Cycle (from my pediatrician uncle who is worried about lack of helmets)
  
• Miss Gulch (from the Wizard of Oz)
  
• Zelda
• Gertrude
• Fritz
• WinBell (Insight reference)
  
• Gretel
• Daisy Bell
• The CTFW (The Charles Taylor Freedom Wheels)
  
• Operation Hot Mother
• Tracy Morgan's Manatee (if you don't get the reference, watch this clip)
  
• Flavor of the Week
• Jiska
• Azura (Eve's daughter)
  
• Tinkerbell
• Sally Spins
• Nina
• Wilhelmina (my street here)
  
• Mini-Eve
• Den Byke
• Toto (little dog from the Wizard of Oz)
  

And the winner is: Miss Gulch

The main reasons behind this choice are:

1. There is a Wizard of Oz theme for naming vehicles in my family (my car's name is Dorothy etc), but the person who submitted this entry did not known about that, so clearly it was destiny;
2. Miss Gulch is the evil woman from the Wizard of Oz who wants to have Toto put down. During the Oz dream sequence, she turns into the Wicked Witch of the West character; and
3. On Friday morning, my bike went evil on me and bucked me off right in front of the Court... Nothing too serious, just a bashed up knee and some bruised dignity. Thank god it was 8:45am so no one was around yet to witness my klutziness (international justice sleeps in late on Fridays). Anyway, the name is perfect for such an occasion: as suggested by the submitter, "Miss Gulch went all Wicked Witch of the West on me."

Little Pieces of History in the Making

Today we had a 12th Floor meeting. The purpose was mainly to introduce new staff and inter. While most interns started work several weeks before my arrival, this was the first time everyone on the floor has an opportunity to meet. I was able get a sense of what they are all working on, which ranges from public information to legal research, as well as introduce myself and talk a bit about the Fellowship program.

Actually the most interesting was to find out where everyone is from; there are over 25 nationalities (and all inhabited continents) represented! In my large corner office alone, there are 8 distinct nationalities. It is always nice to work in such an international context, with people from such varied backgrounds and experiences. Particularly given my international and multilingual upbringing, it is refreshing to be back in what feels like a more familiar setting.

In addition, today I met the Chief Prosecutor for the first time. While it was a brief introduction— he peeked into the room just to say hello between meetings—it was nice to finally meet in person someone I have heard so much about.

This week the office is abuzz with activity as we are all helping to prepare a very unique meeting for the end of the week. It is a sort of unofficial get-together for representatives from the prosecution teams of each international tribunal, the ICTR, ICTY, SCSL, and ECCC. The three-day workshop will facilitate a discussion about best practices in prosecution with the end product being an outline of a manual. The manual will be put together by ICC staff and then brought to the official summit that will be held in Cambodia next month.

The best practices manual is a legacy project for the ad-hoc tribunals, most of which will be winding down operations and eventually closing within the next couple of years. The topics range from speeding up trials, to managing victim participation, to conducting efficient investigations. In a way, it is a chance to record the small pearls of wisdom gleaned from 10-15 years of prosecutorial experience so that it can be passed on to the new permanent Court.Even though I will only be assisting in an administrative capacity during the workshop, I look forward to sitting in on these discussions. In a way, so much of working here is just being a witness to little pieces of history in the making.

I miss Smith!

A rose by any other name...

As promised, here is a picture of my lovely new Dutch bike:

Isn't she cute?
The problem is that she is currently nameless, anonymous, seeking out her place in the world and helplessly lost in her quest for her identity... So this is where you all come in: name my bike! I will accept submissions until this time next week and announce the winning name here. Just go ahead and post a comment below with your suggested nomenclature :)

Dutchification or what happens when Eve gets a bike

Over the weekend I bought a classic Dutch city bike. The main difference between mine and the one pictured above is that mine doesn't have hand brakes (you have to back pedal to brake, just like on a training bike) and on the back, it has a snazzy pair of hot pink saddle bags (waterproof of course). I promise a picture soon.

Luckily (and somewhat freakishly two weeks in a row), the weather was gorgeous this weekend so I was able to use my retro ride to explore the city a bit more. I spent the better part of Saturday afternoon cycling around the city center and along the tree-lined canals, while simultaneously trying a) to orient myself, b) to take in the sights, c) to avoid crashing into other (clearly more competent) cyclists, and d) to not kill pedestrians. In retrospect, I actually think that most of my brain power was spent on the latter, especially considering that a sunny Saturday afternoon is probably the busiest time of the week.

On Sunday, I biked all the way to the Scheveningen beach (about 6.5km from my house--13km round trip!) and my cycling confidence grew in leaps and bounds. Not only did I manage to not kill anyone but I got pretty good at gauging my back-pedal brakes and dealing with the fact that my bike has no gears. Ah yes, I forgot to mention that since this country is literally completely flat (and about 70% below sea level), they don't put any gears on their bikes.

After a lovely day at the beach, I got home feeling totally refreshed, rejuvenated, and relaxed... And then I woke up on Monday morning feeling stiff, sleepy, and saturnine. The overcast skies didn't help much either, but I felt better once I was on my bike with the fresh crisp morning air in my face, and even better once I warmed up and my initial soreness passed.
The advantage of biking to work is that it only takes 15min, it's a nice little work out, and I arrive about 10 degrees warmer. The disadvantage is that you get a bit sweaty and may have a couple of near-death experiences before 9am. In fact, as I pedaled along down the busy streets towards the Court, ringing my bell quite liberally like a true New Yorker, I realized that my two greatest fears in life are no longer spontaneous combustion and trucks that are too tall to fit under bridges and overpasses. Now my biggest fears are getting "doored" (that's cyclist terminology for what happens when stupid motorists park their cars and open the doors without checking for bikes) and getting trapped in the tram rails (which, I am told, have many expat casualties). Thankfully, since cycling in the Netherlands is so prevalent (it even has its own Wikipedia entry), most of my commute is on a bike path that runs parallel to the road. In fact, I can get almost anywhere in The Hague via bike path. They are like mini roads, complete with their own traffic signals.


However I have yet to perfect a smooth start/stop technique (mainly because my bike is slightly too high for me... Damn tall Dutch people) so usually I just try to gauge my speed so I never have to actually stop at a red light. My other remaining challenge is to figure out the best way to deal with the rain. I haven't actually had to bike in the rain yet, but it looks as though my dry streak will be coming to an end today. This morning though, I did fashion a rather stylish poncho out of a garbage bag...

Anyway, the entire point of this update is to let you all know that my Dutchification is on track: Step 1 of Dutchification is getting a bike. Step 2 is using the bike to go everywhere. Step 3, which I did yesterday, is cycling to work in a skirt and heels--though I am told that I will not be considered "legit" until I do that in the pouring rain. I think step 4 is learning to bike while holding an umbrella and chatting on my cell phone. Step 5 is growing 10 inches in height and eventually producing a very very blond child.

Me and Chuck T

This morning I had the opportunity to observe a status conference at the Special Court of Sierra Leone, part of which is housed here at the ICC in The Hague. The conference was in a courtroom and was regarding the trial of Charles Taylor which is set to begin in January.
And Charles Taylor was there. Sitting at towards the back of the courtroom, in a slate grey suit, gold-rimmed tinted glasses, and shiny gold cuff links. I was sitting in the visitors observation area, which is separated from the courtroom by a large glass partition, just like the courtrooms in Arusha. He was sitting maybe 15 feet away from me, surrounded by guards, looking smug and unconcerned. He reminded me exactly of the detainees at the ICTR.
Anyway, I can't believe I just saw Charles Taylor. Jesus... Ok, back to Lubanga now...

Charles Taylor back in the day