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Jody Williams | |||||||||
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Inside the busy Cambodian clinic, a dark-skinned boy with one leg is leaned on a crutch, waiting his turn in a long line. Every so often, he hopped forward, trying to steady himself before pausing to rest again. His sad young face reflected the pain and awkwardness of his every move. He was bewildered by what had happened to him and yet realized that his life had changed forever. Just a few months before this was a happy child, playing in a field near his home as he had many times. Suddenly, without warning, he stepped on a landmine, setting off an explosion that ripped apart his left leg. The extent of the damage caused the doctors to amputate his leg just above the knee. He had come to the prosthesis clinic to be fitted with a new limb and afforded the chance to walk again. As it was on many other days, the clinic was filled with amputees of all ages in wheelchairs, on crutches, or sprawled out on cots and mats. There were children injured while at play, grandmothers blown apart while collecting firewood to make a family meal, and men and women whose tilling hoe struck one of the deadly metal objects planted in the soil. They were all victims of Cambodian landmines. On a summer day in 1991, the clinic had a special visitor—an American peace activist named Jody Williams. Until then, Jody had only heard and read about the damage done by landmines. Witnessing these examples firsthand, her empathy swelled and her anger boiled. As she watched the one-legged boy and the other patients still to be treated, she knew she couldn’t just stand on her two capable legs and do nothing. She left the clinic that day, dedicating herself to a compelling cause—one that would ultimately earn this unpretentious small-town girl the world’s most prestigious peace prize. Jody’s desire to help society’s victims was learned at an early age. Born at the dawn of the ’50s, she was raised in a log cabin in the placid, church-filled hamlet of Putney, Vermont. The scant population of twelve hundred included her mother who worked in public housing projects and her father who was a county judge. She learned early on to be a humanitarian by defending her handicapped brother from frequent tormentors. At the same time, she recalls being “a good, conscientious student who never bugged anybody and always did my homework before it was due. Then came college, and I didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself. I had a series of boring and irrelevant jobs and kept going to school and getting more degrees in search of something better.” As she was working toward a masters degree in international relations, Jody found an issue that energized her. “The Vietnam War was my transformation,” she says. “I opposed it and did some marches at the University of Vermont. I thought it was wrong for the U.S. to be in a region we didn’t know anything about.” Her interest in Vietnam eventually led Jody to developing countries. “One day in 1981, I was waiting for a train in a Washington, DC, subway station. An organizer was leafleting people as they got off the train. I was handed a leaflet that read, ‘El Salvador: Another Vietnam.’ What interested me was it had ‘Vietnam’ in the title. I eventually became involved with the Nicaragua-Honduras Education Project, which was raising awareness of American policy in Central America. For eleven years, I worked to stop U.S. intervention in Central America and to direct medical aid to El Salvador. I got a firsthand look at the ravages of war. “I remember that, during the Pakistani missile crisis, I would hide under my desk in fear of possible nuclear fallout. Little did I realize then that there was another type of fallout that was doing mass destruction. Landmines were contaminating seventy countries around the world. Organizations like Human Rights Watch and Handicap International and others had reported millions of landmines in the ground in countries like Cambodia, Angola, and Ethiopia. I found out that a landmine injures someone every twenty-two minutes. That had a lasting impact on me. “During a trip I made to Egypt, the army took me to El Amin where there had been a battle in the desert in World War I. There were two hundred seventy-four thousand square kilometers of land that had seventeen million landmines. Since World War II, they have removed less than forty percent of them. That’s land that once was a breadbasket and can no longer be used. “I went with some army officers to look at the area. We drove three and a half hours into the desert on a little, skinny road, then turned off onto the unmarked, landmine-infested desert. Since I didn’t want to risk being blown up, I stayed in the tent and watched squads trying to remove the mines. I sat there looking at the expansive desert around me, knowing that no one could walk there, that the people were being denied their own land. “In Cambodia, landmines cover fifty percent of the territory. The eighty-five thousand refugee families from the war, now repatriated in their country, don’t have enough land to grow sufficient rice. So much land was contaminated by landmines that only twelve hundred families got land. All the rest got a one-year supply of rice and fifty dollars. That’s an example of the long-term impact of landmines. “In 1991, the Vietnam Veterans of America Foundation (VVAF) opened a prosthesis clinic in Cambodia, in an area where landmines still remained from the Vietnam War era. Virtually every amputee at the clinic was there because he or she had stepped on a landmine. The Vets’ Foundation thought it wasn’t enough to just put limbs on people. They had to go to the root cause of the problem. I made a commitment to help them. “The veterans’ group invited me to run a fledgling organization, the International Campaign to Ban LandMines (ICBL). While there were assorted grassroots organizations working against landmines, there was no coordinated strategy.” Under Williams’ leadership, a handful of anti-landmine organizations with human rights roots came together in New York in October of 1992 to coordinate their efforts. “It began with three of us sitting around a table,” Jody explains. “We agreed to host a conference for nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) the following year. In May of ’93, the first international conference on landmines drew forty NGOs and began to build support for the ultimate goal: a worldwide ban on the use, production, trade, and stockpiling of landmines.” From this inauspicious beginning, ICBL grew rapidly into a coalition of over thirteen hundred human rights, humanitarian, children’s, peace, disability, medical, veterans, development, arms control, religious, environmental, and women’s organizations, working together in more than seventy-five countries. In October of 1996, a conference of 50 NGOs, observer states, and others, met in Ottawa, Canada, and agreed to sign a treaty banning antipersonnel mines. In December of 1997, more than ninety countries, not including the United States, gathered in Canada—this time to formally sign the treaty into law. As of this writing, the number of treaty signers is at one hundred thirty-one. Jody Williams was down on her farm when she received the news that she had become an international hero. She had unceremoniously turned forty-seven the day before and was relaxing in the Putney, Vermont, house where she had spent most of her younger years. She was there when the phone call came congratulating her on winning the Nobel Peace Prize for her crusade against landmines. Hours later, Jody walked out of the farmhouse to greet the press. She was barefoot, wearing jeans and a tank top. This may not have been customary dress for a Nobel recipient. But it was vintage Jody. As her accomplishments and plaudits have grown, she has remained true to her natural self: “I’m just an ordinary person,” she says. “I shop at Safeway. I vacuum rapidly. I haven’t changed. This was one small way to contribute to making life better for a few. We didn’t set out to change the world. We didn’t set out to be heroes. We certainly didn’t set out to be recognized by the Nobel committee. We set out to banish this one weapon that is illegal under international law.” The ICBL’s historic impact was made in a remarkably short amount of time against enormous odds. The major superpowers: The U.S., Russia, and China were against the treaty, and there was general resistance from the diplomatic community. “One of the things we’ve seen out of the landmine campaign,” says Jody, “is that a lot of governments are very uncomfortable with this model because they don’t want civil society to have an ongoing voice, especially on security issues. Typically, governments and NGOs have been seen as adversaries. The ‘men in suits’ do not want to have their process disrupted by having open dialogue with civil society. That undercuts the behind-closed-doors way of diplomacy. “A key element of our campaign has been the willingness of the middle and smaller powers of the world, in conjunction with the NGOs, to step out and set an agenda and come together to move this issue forward, sometimes with the direct opposition of the big powers. We spoke with authority, standing in every door of every government that was interested in people having a role in civil society. This campaign was a breakthrough because some governments took the risk of allowing us in the room. Ultimately, we did end up changing the world on this one tiny issue We showed how ordinary people working together can accomplish extraordinary things.” While proud of the campaign’s accomplishments, Jody believes that “there is a lot more to be done.” She is determined not to let up until every nation signs and conforms to the international treaty. She has been particularly critical of the United States, which insists on leaving its landmines in Korea for several more years, and won’t sign a treaty that doesn’t allow for that exception. Removing the millions of landmines that currently exist, making sure that countries who have signed the treaty comply with its regulations, creating an international criminal court, halting the use of children as soldiers, and slowing the spread of firearms, are some of the tasks Jody and the ICBL are advancing. The antilandmine crusade has taken its toll on Jody. In early 1998, she decided to give up day-to-day coordination of the campaign (three people were hired to take her place), prompting rumors that she had been dismissed from ICBL. Actually, she became an international ambassador for the campaign, focusing on ensuring treaty compliance, mine clearance, and victim assistance. Her travel schedule, as she puts it, is “horrifying at best.” The day she spoke at the Nobel Peace Prize Festival in Minneapolis, I was able to corner her for only a hurried interview. Although obviously weary from the hectic pace, she told me that she “would be going home for about six seconds,” before taking off on another trip to several foreign countries. Jody’s motivation for continuing her frenetic and often difficult campaign is simple but powerful. It hearkens up memories of defending her brother, of funneling medical aid to the poor, and, primarily, of the Cambodian clinic and the boy without a leg. “What keeps me going,” she says, “is the conviction that it’s the right thing to do. It makes me feel good every day that I’m doing something that makes a difference for someone else.”
1. What have you witnessed firsthand that makes your anger boil? 2. Were you considered to be a “good” kid? If so, what motivated you to be that way? If not, what do you think motivates kids to be “good?” What are the advantages and disadvantages of being a “good” kid? 3. Since it infringes on civilian’s lives and prohibits land use for decades to come, do you think it should be illegal for the military to plant landmines? How can government at all levels assist in the development and nurturing of cultures of peace throughout the world and, in particular: a) eliminate the use of landmines and government sales of arms, and b) support the development of peace studies and peace action programs? 4. Jody started her work with two other people. They eventually developed a worldwide effort. Who could you invite to join you in a neighborhood, statewide, or worldwide cause? 5. When you are having trouble giving to your family or loved ones because of extra stress in your life, what works for you to reconnect with them?
Resources for Reflection and Action: The Art of Peace, edited by Jeffrey Hopkins (Ithaca, New York: Snow Lion Publications, 2000). Nobel Peace Laureates discuss human rights, conflict, and reconciliation. Peace Within Our Grasp: Making the dream a reality, by CR Dale Kline (Available from Dale Kline, 820 Hampton Ridge Dr., Akron, OH 44313). This book delves into the roots of behavior to find the causes of war and suggests ways to prevent wars. Doing Democracy, (Journal) by the Center for Living Democracy, RR #1, Fox Farm Rd., Brattleboro, VT 05301. Phone: 802-254-1234. Website: www.Americannews.com. The Center for Living Democracy believes that “doing democracy” is a learned skill and one best carried out at the grassroots level. The center believes that ordinary citizens have a vital role in solving public problems, and that in so doing they are creating a growing “democratic revolution” in our country. Peace Education News (PEN), Publication of the Canadian Peace Educator’s Network, PO Box 839, Drayton Valley, Alberta TOE OMO, Canada. PEN supports and promotes balanced and responsible formal education about peace and security issues. In the Tiger’s Mouth: An empowerment guide for social action, by Katrina Shields (Gabriola Island, BC: New Society Publishers, 1994). A readable and practical manual for dealing with obstacles to individual and organizational effectiveness. Resource Manual for a Living Revolution, by Virginia Coover, Ellen Deacon, Charles Esser, and Christopher Moore (Gabriola Island, BC: New Society Publishers, 1978). A classic sourcebook on group process and other skills useful to those involved in social change through nonviolence. Alternative to the Pentagon, by Franklin Zahn (Fellowship of Reconciliation, PO Box 271, Nyack, NY 10960. Phone: 914-358-4601, 1996). The author provides an imaginary account of an invasion of the United States and illustrates how it could be defeated nonviolently. Outstanding photos of nonviolent campaigns. Interhelp, PO Box 86, Cambridge, MA 02140. This is an international network of people who share their deepest responses to world conditions that threaten human life and the Earth. They help people within their own communities to move through feelings of isolation and hopelessness to empowerment. They offer community gatherings and training in despair and empowerment, deep ecology, and personal support systems. International Campaign to Ban Landmines. Phone: 202-547-2667. Website: www.icbl.org. Email: cblAicbl.org. Act For Change Website: www.actforchange.com. ActForChange.com is Working Assets’ online activism site. They keep in touch with hundreds of advocacy groups and post those actions they think you’ll find most valuable. Then they connect you directly to decision-makers that can influence the outcome of important events. With a click of your mouse, your voice will be heard. | ||
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