By Andy McElroy
Photo by Samantha Wood
The United Nations is in crisis and needs its dedicated workers to stand up and be counted. In the office of Bacre Waly Ndiaye, the counting doesn't take long. The UN's special rapporteur on summary or arbitrary executions has the grand total of two (including himself) working on 53,106 cases of killings or disappearances in 75 countries.
So, one of the world's top human rights troubleshooters in the No.1 troubleshooting agency has what can best be described as limited firepower to deal with escalating violence by governments against their citizens. It's pathetic, and Ndiaye, 41, is the first to agree. He is not an enforcer, or even a policeman, but more a Neighbourhood Watch coordinator with the world as his patch.
"When I was appointed [in July 1992] I asked how I was going to be funded. I'm still waiting for the answer", said Ndiaye, in Australia as a guest of Amnesty International to highlight human rights abuses.
Meanwhile, in other UN branches, further peacekeeping ventures are being planned. It's been a year of "prestige projects" for the UN — Cambodia and Somalia being two. It's a balancing act, and one Ndiaye believes is tilting too much away from the UN's community policing role. He is concerned at the recent killings of Somali civilians by UN forces and said such actions need to be "in proportion" to the violence and danger of the situation.
A bureaucracy that employs 53,000 people, the UN has a case of the left arm (Geneva HQ) not knowing what the right (New York HQ) is doing. Indeed, it wasn't until the UN's Vienna conference on human rights in July, a year after his appointment, that Ndiaye received a list of the other 34 "special rapporteurs"
Communication is improving and the rapporteurs, whose responsibilities cover individual countries (Yugoslavia) and other areas such as the treatment of children, have resolved to meet at least once a year.
But the spirit of cooperation is not always as high as the UN's ideals. "There's an underground war between Geneva and New York. It's one New York always wins because that's where the finance office is", he says.
"Having peacekeeping without human rights fails. It's a question of getting the focus right, and there are arguments at the moment to say that's not happening."
One possible reason is the carve-up of resources. Ndiaye has to squabble for his crumb of the UN's budget. Just 1% is lavished on human rights.
The Senegalese lawyer certainly can't be accused of shirking the cause. In terms of value for money, he's a gold mine for the UN.
He leads a Batman-like existence. Twenty days a month he spends as a mild-mannered lawyer at his practice in Dakar, Senegal's capital. The other 10 are free for his crime-fighting "hobby" as a UN special rapporteur. And it's not jokers that he faces, but cold-blooded killers.
Ndiaye receives nothing for putting his reputation, and life, on the line in places such as the former Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Peru. His legal training serves him well. The nearest thing to a job description is the 14 international conventions and declarations which frame his "mandate".
The former Amnesty International executive committee member is still very dependent on his former colleagues. He relies on Amnesty for 65% of his information.
But despite piles of reports and tip-offs clogging his office, he is still at the mercy of others. He can act only if invited in by a country. This may happen because of pressure from the UN or because an image-conscious government wants to whitewash a chequered human rights record.
But often, an invite doesn't come. He's involved in a cat-and-mouse struggle with Turkey over a possible field trip there. His Turkish file, along with Haiti's, is his fattest.
Once in a country, Mr Ndiaye treads carefully to preserve his integrity.
"I always divide my trips. For instance, in the morning I will travel with government representatives, but then will always leave the afternoon free to meet others. You must get the whole picture.
"My role is not to criticise the whole time. I offer constructive suggestions. What we're looking for is human rights improvements."
He's realistic enough to acknowledge his eyes see only so far. "I know lots about the Kurdish situation because the reporting is so good, but what about Angola where 1000 people are dying a day — no one knows and few care because it is a war out of the camera."
He is outspoken on the problems of the UN, but believes passionately that the people of the world need it.
"It is reasonable to talk about Security Council reform if it will generate an increase in impartiality and credibility", Ndiaye says.
"It's great to dream about this and that, but we live in the real world, where resources are scarce and political power counts.
"The United Nations still has a big part to play in such a world. The UN is for many people and many different ethnic groups. It's the only hope they've got.
"Some governments are destroying their people; they are starving and being used as a battlefield. People need protection; many are in danger."
On leaving Australia, has to organise visits to drug-war-ravaged Colombia and again seek entry to a reluctant Bangladesh, which doesn't want to see him.
He has to pursue the case of Burmese women, who are smuggled into Thailand, enslaved as prostitutes, discarded when they become HIV-positive and executed on return to their homeland.
He hopes to be on the road more. He's waiting for the chance to go to Kashmir and possibly Indonesia. "I want to do more field trips. I need to see for myself and get a concrete impression."
[Andy McElroy works as a journalist and is a member of AI.]