WRI homepage > Publications > The Broken Rifle > No.44, December 1999

1 December is Prisoners for Peace Day

Resisting war in situations of war

1. December 1999: Prisoners for Peace Day

By Andreas Speck

Since the 1920 War Resisters' International asks peace activists to send greeting cards to prisoners, since 1956 1 December is celebrated as Prisoners for Peace Day. This year, War Resisters' International especially wants to highlight the situation war resisters in countries at war: From Algeria, Angola and Congo in Africa to Kosov@ and Yugoslavia in Europa - the year 1999 was a year of wars. While we are preparing for Prisoners for Peace Day, wars are still going on in Chechnia in Europe, in Angola in Africa, in Turkey in Asia, in Columbia in Latin America - to mention just a few.

But whereever there is war, there is resistance: Young men deserting from armed forces (regular armies or irregular armed forces) or avoiding their call-up, activists trying to promote peaceful solutions and denouncing military means, support to deserters and draft evaders, initiatives for dialogue between fighting parties. While most wars are waged and commanded by men - although women form an increasing part of the armed forces in many countries - of women are on the forefront of resistance, the International Network of Women in Black is only one striking example.

Resisting war in situations of war is different from what European and US-American antimilitarists are used to: while we are very often struggling against apathie and face little repression within our Western democracies - and I say this although I'm one of the more than 20 peace activists in Germany accused for calling on German soldiers for desertion - war resisters in war situations have to deal with something entirely different. In Angola forced recruitment to all armed forces - the Government and the guerilla forces - is in itself a war against the young population, with those refusing to „join" facing death. The up to 30,000 draft evaders in Yugoslavia still today - after the war is over - face up to 20 years imprisonment under laws that have been introduced under the „state of war".

Resisting war then often means leaving your country, your friends and your family, and if you are lucky you might end up in an asylum camp in Europe or the United States, only to be deported again, because conscientious objection doesn't give you the right to asylum. Resisting war might mean going into hiding within your own country, always fearing being arrested by the military or police and thrown into prison.

Often pacifist prisoners are at the heart of anti-militarist struggle. At the same time they find themselves at the heart of a violent institution - the day to day grind and isolation of prison life is a form of state violence that should neither be forgotten nor underestimated. Therefore prisoners for peace need our special attention and support.

War Resisters' International calls on everybody to send letters or cards to individual Prisoners for Peace to show support and solidarity.

War Resisters' International calls on peace groups and organisations to set up information stalls and to inform the public about the situation of prisoners for peace in countries at war.

War Resisters' International calls for the release of all Prisoners for Peace and for asylum for deserters, draft evaders and peace activists being threatened in their own countries.

Resistance to war is one important step in building a lasting peace.

War Resisters' International, 5 Caledonian Road, London N1 9DX, Britain
tel.: +44-171-2784040, fax: 2780444, email info@wri-irg.org

The Ones Left Behind

Matt Meyer provides a review of the movement to free the Puerto Rican political prisoners and an exclusive conversation with former prisoner Alejandrina Torres

After nineteen years in prison, serving a seventy-eight year sentence for the political thought crime of "seditious conspiracy," Adolfo Matos' first steps into JFK's International Airport in New York brings tears to everyone present. The tears are mainly of relief-after the intense campaigns, the long meetings and multiple strategies, and (oh my!) Adolfo looks so good (almost younger than when he went in!)-but they're also tears of political shock, tears of rage at the injustice of it all. Adolfo's time in New York is brief-a one-hour stop-over with his extended family and supporters, between the prison in California and the land he'll now call his home: Puerto Rico, the land whose freedom he was conspiring for.

The struggle against the U.S. occupation of Puerto Rico goes back to 1898, when U.S. troops invaded the island at the end of the Spanish-American War. Since that time, a steady movement of resistance has developed, weathering both harsh colonial conditions as well as draconian measures to keep down progressive and independence activists. Puerto Rico continues to be used as the main U.S. military base in Latin America, with over fourteen sub-bases located throughout the small island, and with both of the two tiny but populated islands connected to Puerto Rico-Vieques and Culebra-used at times as bombing ranges. Puerto Ricans were granted a nominal form of U.S. citizenship just prior to World War One, facilitating the conscription of Puerto Rican men while disallowing Puerto Ricans not living within the U.S. to even vote for president or governmental representatives. Sent to the front in numbers widely disproportional to their percentage in the population, Puerto Ricans have also led U.S. statistics in the area of draft resistance and evasion. When not facing conventional conflicts, colonial violence has been imposed through the forced sterilisation of large numbers of Puerto Rican women, in experiments to further the interests of multinational pharmaceuticals. Economic exploitation has allowed U.S. corporations to operate in Puerto Rico tax-free, while poverty levels continue to increase in a country stripped of it's natural resources. The English-language court system in this Spanish-speaking nation presides over the "security" work of various departments of the FBI, military police, and domestic forces. Truly resisters of these conditions-from student activists, to environmentalists, to feminists or trade unionists or nationalists-qualify as those resisting war during war-time. Colonialism itself has always been a form of war, and Puerto Rico remains-at the beginning of the century the UN had hoped to declare an era without colonies-one of the world's last direct colonial enclaves.

The Puerto Rican political prisoners-technically acknowledged as being prisoners of war by a number of independent international tribunals-grew out of this context of resistance and repression. All had been connected to community-based improvement efforts, including church groups, alternative schools, cultural centers, and anti-U.S. Navy efforts. The U.S. government's conspiracy charge, made when they were arrested throughout the early 1980s, united them conceptually as being members of one or another clandestine group that was engaged in symbolic bombings, bank robberies and the like. And while a few of the fifteen were found in possession of some weapons, none were ever linked to actual acts resulting in death or destruction. Nevertheless, the sentences handed down for possibly belonging to an organisation that possibly could be proven responsible for militaristic acts far outweighed the sentences typically given for the proven crimes of murder, kidnapping or rape. These terms-in some individuals' cases totalling as many as 105 years-were carried out under tortuous conditions often condemned by human rights groups, in jails spread out across the U.S., far away from the prisoners' families or support networks. The outrageous sentences and treatment, along with the stalwart ways in which the prisoners continued to assert their justice and peace politics, led them to become symbols for the entire Puerto Rican people. It was on this basis that an amnesty campaign was waged.

The Puerto Rican Human Rights Campaign, under the direction of sociologist and educator Dr. Luis Nieves Falcon, organized a multifaceted strategy that understood the need for both massive grassroots momentum and for well-placed international solidarity. Modelling the life of a tireless activist, Falcon retired from a prestigious position as head of the Department of Caribbean and Latin American Studies at the University of Puerto Rico to get a law degree so he could better understand the cases and support his imprisoned compatriots. Once the legal basis for amnesty was clearly established-at conferences in Barcelona, New York, San Francisco and Geneva-teams of students were trained to go to every town and municipality, knocking on doors and getting people to write letters, sign petitions, and pressure politicians. Careful to respect the issues that the prisoners stood for, the campaign was also committed to making the fact and conditions of their imprisonment (an outgrowth of the colonial condition facing all Puerto Ricans) the central political concern. Thus, in time, leaders of every Puerto Rican trade union, church, and legal association joined in the call for amnesty; representatives of every political party from left to centre to right added their names. On the eve of a huge march held on 29 August, a dinner was held to gather supporters; the keynote addresses were made by Catholic Archbishop Roberto González Nieves and Episcopal Bishop David Alvarez. The slogan of the march, which attracted well over 100,000 people in what has been called the largest demonstration in Puerto Rican history, had gone beyond the more common "freedom for the political prisoners" to "Liberty for Our Own: It's time to bring them home."

On the international level, educational work became an early priority, along with mobilising the large sectors of Puerto Ricans living in the continental U.S. By the end of last year, every Latino elected official in the U.S. had joined in the amnesty efforts, and the letter-writing campaign had reached groups and individuals throughout Europe, Latin America, Africa, Asia and the Pacific. The international pacifist and peace movements played a significant role, and-under the coordination of the Puerto Rican Human Rights Campaign and with the assistance of the local Resistance in Brooklyn (RnB) affinity group-a Call from the Nobel Peace Prize community was developed. Ultimately, eleven Nobel laureates or those representing Nobel-winning organisations signed the Call, including Archbishop Tutu, Maraid Corrigan Maguire, Jose Ramos-Horta, Coretta Scott King, and Adolfo Perez Esquivel (who helped initiate the Call at WRI's Brazilian Triennial). With this type of solidarity growing, the prisoners' lawyers initiated a series of meetings with the White House pardon attorney and White House Hispanic Affairs chief, to open a channel of communication.

Never relying on the honesty of politicians, the Campaign believed that a subjective connection was-in fact-necessary, and the children and parents of those imprisoned began direct appeals to the very centre of political power. Over the past year, after a number of implied promises of release were broken, the tactical flexibility of the campaign was also revealed: a series of nonviolent civil disobedience actions began. First, at the October 1998 Day Without the Pentagon actions commemorating WRL's seventy-fifth anniversary, RnB-joined by some plowshares activists and by veteran pacifist Dave Dellinger-dedicated their arrests to the Puerto Rican prisoners and to the people of Vieques, who deserved freedom from the Pentagon's bombing raids. Then, last July-on the hundred-and-first anniversary of the U.S. Marines invasion of Puerto Rico-the U.S.-based National Committee to Free Puerto Rican Political Prisoners/POWs,(supported by RnB and by the Interfaith Prisoners of Conscience Project of the National Council of Churches), staged a civil disobedience action in front of the White House. Although a civil and courteous meeting (between the President's attorneys, the prisoners' attorney Jan Susler, and Pax Christi supporter Bishop Thomas Gumbleton) had just taken place moments earlier inside the White House, the Campaign had matured to the point of understanding that a strategic use of multiple tactics and approaches, of the objective need to mobilize masses of people as well as the subjective need to speak truth to the powerful, could ultimately end in success.

In spite of all this, the events of August and September 1999 sped by like a blur for most amnesty workers. When, on August 11, William Clinton offered a conditional clemency to fourteen of the fifteen (also extending a reduction in fines to two already-released prisoners), campaigners were both overjoyed and outraged. Under the conditions, twelve could be released immediately and two others could spend five and ten additional years (still a sentence reduction) in prison. An oath of nonviolence would have to be signed by all those accepting the offer, despite the fact that the Campaign had already submitted documents from the prisoners agreeing to participate in the legal, nonviolent movement for independence. Another condition stipulated that no prisoner could visit or see another convicted felon, despite the fact that two of the prisoners are sisters who have been bunked together in jail, and another is the husband of a previously released independentista. The movement shifted focus towards a call for unconditional freedom, as the prisoners themselves tried to find a way to respond to the offer as a group, despite their geographic separation. A conference was held in San Juan in late August, with presenters including this author and WRI staff person Roberta Bacic, speaking on the reintegration of the prisoners of conscience of Chile following the ouster of Pinochet. At the grand march following the conference, the key speaker was not a Puerto Rican nationalist or independentist hero, but Chicago Congressman Luis Gutierrez, who delivered a fiery condemnation of the President's conditions. Back in the U.S., the Republican Party was waging an attack of it's own, focusing on the electoral aspirations of Hillary Clinton and Al Gore and the importance of the Latino vote. When Hillary noted, in early September, that the prisoners were taking a long time to decide what to do, and that perhaps the offer should be rescinded, a furious New York Congressman, Jose Serrano, fired back that the U.S. had been taking over one hundred years to decide upon the fate of Puerto Rico. Several days later, twelve of the fourteen agreed to accept the clemency, resulting in the almost immediate release of eleven. After two decades of uphill struggle, a real victory had been won.

Alejandrina Torres is one of those eleven, now surrounded by family and friends. A teacher and officer of the First Congregational Church of Chicago-where her husband is the retired Pastor-her engaging smile, soft demeanour, and strong spirit belie the sixteen years of hellish conditions she endured. Immediately upon arrest, Torres was placed on special administrative detention on an all-male unit, and-in 1984-experienced a brutal physical assault and double strip search at the hands of one male and four female guards. One of three political prisoners placed in the experimental Lexington Control Unit, she faced twenty-four-hour-a-day surveillance, sensory and sleep deprivation, and various forms of psychological and physical torture-before the Control Unit was closed due to grassroots pressures and an Amnesty International investigation. Despite suffering a heart attack and several chronic medical conditions, Torres was never allowed proper medical treatment. In an exclusive conversation with Peace News, Alejandrina characteristically turned the discussion away from her personal suffering and towards the conditions facing her people. Her affect is one not of bitterness, but of beauty.

"We decided at this particular time that we needed to respond to the people," she began, speaking of the decision to accept the clemency offer. "We owed a response that would be reasonable to them, and many leaders were saying that it's been long enough. It would be better, they argued, for us to be outside, to work together and deal collectively with the ones left behind."

Four of those included in the amnesty campaign remain behind bars, including Alejandrina's step-son Carlos Alberto Torres (who was not offered any clemency deal). Juan Segarra Palmer, who accepted the Clinton offer, must serve another five years, and Antonio Camacho Negron-who was out on parole two years ago but re-imprisoned when he violated parole conditions by travelling extensively and speaking out politically-refused the offer, and has several more years to serve. Oscar Lopez-Rivera, who also refused the government's offer (to release him conditionally after serving an additional ten years), has fifty-two years left to serve. A Vietnam veteran and life-long community organiser, Oscar's steadfast non-cooperation with the government's machinations didn't stop him from supporting the decisions of his comrades. Oscar's commitment was mirrored in the statements of the eleven upon release, who vowed to continue work for the freedom of all.

"Our years in prison have not made our focus wane," continued Alejandrina, responding to a question about their ability to remain united. "I think that's been part of the victory. The White House thought we would just run as individuals to sign the offer. They were surprised when we decided that we wanted to somehow meet. I suggested a telephone conference call, which we eventually were able to have. They weren't expecting that we would do it so collectively. We had some interesting conversations, and came to the conclusion during some of them that what we have conceded is what they had already been in control of for most of our lives. Yes, to some extent they put the prison on our shoulders, we're carrying our chains with us onto the street. There were some very strict limitations imposed, but really it is just part and parcel of the overall U.S. outlook on the case of Puerto Rico. It is a struggle for average working people just to survive."

When asked about the historical context for the conditions, especially the hypocritical call for a pledge of nonviolence while the Navy continues to bomb Vieques, Alejandrina responded by stating: "We are Vieques and Vieques is us. Vieques is struggling for their life, their rights, their freedom ... . and at this point it is a formidable issue to be brought out. Vieques seems to be a catalyst right now, as people are opposing the U.S. military all over the world. It's an issue that people can relate to-getting the military out and getting the U.S. out of Puerto Rico. Vieques shows how clearly the issue is colonialism, and they can't just sweep it under the rug.

"As for us, every historical period goes through phases," Torres continued, "and we have to grow and develop in response to the times. The Puerto Rican independence movement was never a violent movement. It had it's periods in history where it's resistance was expressed and manifested in a more aggressive manner, but the movement itself is not a violent movement.

So how do you deal with the greatest power in the world at this particular point? "When the whole issue of people occupying the bombing ranges of Vieques came up, and the whole issue of nonviolence was raised-of civil disobedience, which is another aspect of nonviolence-I thought that we should run with it. This is something that the people respond to; our people will never respond totally to violenceWe are not a violent people, and the U.S. should be really thankful for that-as there are over three million Puerto Ricans living within the U.S.! I think that the struggle of the 1990s had been one of civil disobedience."

There are few enough moments when progressives have cause to celebrate, and undoubtedly the freeing of Alejandrina Torres and her fellow defendants should be heralded by all of us working for peace. The struggle of the next period-for the release of the remaining four and loosening of the parole conditions, for a permanent end to the use of Vieques by the U.S. military, for an end to colonialism and political imprisonment everywhere-must be met with creativity and a determination fueled by the lessons of the Puerto Rican's campaign. As we learn from one another, and learn to work together, the struggle will, indeed, continue.

PR Human Rights Campaign, Dr. Luis Nieves Falcon, 8 Rodriguez Serra Street, San Juan, Puerto Rico 00907

National Committee to Free Puerto Rican Political Prisoners/POWs, 2048 W.Division Street, Chicago, IL 60622 USA

Resistance in Brooklyn, c/o Meyer, WRL, 339 Lafayette Street, New York, NY 10012, USA

Committee for the Rescue and Development of Vieques, Apartado 1424 Vieques, Puerto Rico 00765

Matt Meyer, former Chair of the US War Resisters' League and a founding member of War Resisters' International's Latin America and Africa Working Groups, was an RnB representative to the Puerto Rican Human Rights Campaign. Multicultural Coordinator of NYC Alternative High Schools and Programs, he is currently co-chair of the Consortium on Peace research, Education and Development (COPRED).

"To live is to resist" - letter from Ossi

Dear Peace News readers,

I'm Ossi. As many of you know I was imprisoned because of my conscientious objection to military service in Turkey. After my first imprisonment in October '97, I was released in December '97 and went back to court again in January '98 - to be imprisoned again. I got released in May '98 and went back in October '98. This was meant to be my last courtroom confrontation. But this time the recruitment office took the initiative and decided not to let me go free after the military court released me. So I was imprisoned again and again, until my lawyers managed to get me out on 9th of March this year!

During the two years I've spent in prisons, barracks and recruitment offices (as stop-overs during transportation) the legal situation hasn't developed much. I still "belong to the army", which means that I'm actually in the position of a being a deserter and could be imprisoned again at any time. On the other hand it seems that the military is not too keen on imprisoning me, because this would just carry on the confrontation-without breaking my will.

Many people might wonder if this story makes sense, if it's worth going through with all of this. Isn't this way of acting just martyrdom? Instead of working out political arguments, I would like to answer with a simple story taken from my daily life in prison.

When I first arrived in Eskisehir Military Prison in November '97, I was put in a community room (with a capacity for twelve persons). I was the only one who didn't wear a uniform (I refused and reminded the prison authorities of my previous hunger strike in Mamak Military Prison , Ankara). My room mates had been warned about me. After two days of getting known each other, silence fell all around me. Only one Islamist went on talking with me, but that's another story.

After a while I realised that there was an embargo against me and the main person responsible was the community leader. He was a convinced fascist and had already spent two years in prison for killing somebody (for economic reasons). Let's call him "Ahmet".

It was very difficult for me to live with this social stress. I was used to resisting the authorities, but how can you live in a small room full of people who don't want to share a single word with you?

Within one month I was released. However, I soon returned-as you know. This time my roommates were quite surprised, because they saw that my stay there was not a coincidence or something outside my will. They realised that I was serious about all that nonsense about conscientious objection and that I chose to be there. Ahmet especially had difficulties accepting this and so he started discussing it with me. After a while we came to the point of living peacefully together. Although our thoughts were contradictory, he began to respect me, followed by a kind of friendship. Observing my behaviour in prison, Ahmet tried more and more to understand my principles. So we began to discuss, in a more relaxed way, ethics, religion, anthropology, history, nationalism, psychology and so on. He was reading the books my friends brought me and one day one of these books acted like an explosion inside him. It was a basic introductory book about the history of Western philosophy. After that book, Ahmet's questions concerning anything you could imagine flooded through and out of him.

After nearly two years of knowing each other, his rate of change gets faster and faster. In one of our night-conversations he told me that this was only possible, because he trusted that I wouldn't try to indoctrinate him. So, step by step prison life also started to change. Ahmet was responsible for the twelve-man community, but didn't want to continue in that position. On the other hand everybody was used to living with this strict hierarchy. Ahmet couldn't withdraw, because we all knew that the situation would become worse. We-all together-slowly tried to create a more human and democratic atmosphere. That was quite difficult, because people who are used to being governed interpret this as a sign of weakness. The outcome is often chaos, instead of democracy. On the other hand the prison authorities and warders always are always looking for chances to intervene and control life in the community rooms.

We haven't created a pure oasis, but at least reached consensus about externalising physical violence and things like that. But most important for me is to have known Ahmet, to have observed the process he has gone through. To have a real example of how somebody can change. When I was finally released, he had been in prison for four years and there were thirteen years left to go. Now I'm trying not to lose contact.

Of course this story is not the whole answer and I didn't decide to be a CO to get acquainted with somebody like Ahmet-but this experience and many others have shown me again and again that it is worth insisting on being your self and of following your will. I've never had the feeling that I've spent my time without purpose during my stays in prison. On the contrary, these years have made it once again clear to me: to live is to resist.

I would like to end with a few words to the Peace News readers and Amnesty International activists, who showed me their solidarity throughout these years. I never received your letters, but when it became clear that the army was interrupting the flow of letters coming my way, my group, the Izmir War Resisters' Association, started to collect them. In just three months more than 2.500 letters arrived in Izmir. Even though I couldn't read them, my friends told me about the flow. Upon release, one of the first things I did was to examine this mountain of post. I'll never finish them all! So, thank you very very much for being with me.

Yours,

Ossi

(Osman Murat Ulke)

ISKD (Izmir War Resisters' Association), 1468 Sok. No 6/1, Alsancak, Izmir, Turkey (tel +90 232 464 24 92; fax +90 232 464 08 42; email iskd@operamail.com).

»Without amnesty, the war is not over«

Deserters and draft evaders in Yugoslavia are still waiting for an amnesty to come

By Andreas Speck

Since June the war that was not called a war is officially over. After 79 days of bombing Yugoslavia agreed to withdraw its forces from Kosov@ and to accept NATO to lead KFOR within Kosov@.

Although this war was not called a war by the Serbian regime, even before the bombing began the regime introduced new regulations for „criminal acts against the armed forces" on 18. March, increasing the punishment for draft evasion and desertion to up to 20 years imprisonment and declared a „state of war" within Serbia. Mobilisation war especially strong in the Southern parts of Serbia close to Kosov@. In the cities of Leskovac, Kraljevo, Niš and others almost every young man was mobilised, and many went to Kosov@. How many Serbian soldiers died during the war still remains a secret, but estimates are about 2,000 soldiers who have been killed by NATO and the KLA.

But although mobilication was sharp, not everybody went. Maybe some more even would have gone, but the draft call never reached them - either because they moved and the military didn't know their current address, or because of uneffectivity of the postal service. However, most of those are now seen as draft evaders.

Estimates of numbers of deserters and draft evaders vary wideley. The retired Yugoslav officer and formerly head of the Legal Department of Supreme Command, Tihomir Stojanovic, estimates that there are 23,000 charges in front of the military courts for offences committed during the NATO intervention and the war in Kosov@. The most often charge is „not responding to call-up and avoiding military service". The Serbian Helsinki Committee estimates that there are 14,000 people who have been accused. Other estimates go up to 35,000 charges against deserters and draft evaders. The »Safe House Project«, a project set up by Serbian war resisters in Budapest in Hungary, reported in July that a few hundred objectors, draft evaders and deserters are in military prison in Serbia, most of them in prisons in Zabela-Pozarevac, Sremska Mitrovica and Niš. The most common sentence is five years of imprisonment.

There is the case of an art student, who wants to remain anonymus. He never received his call-up, but nevertheless was sentenced in absence to 7 years of imprisonment. He now is into hiding, unable to finish his studies or to do anything in public - neither going to bars, nor to participate in any political activity. Like him, many deserters and draft evaders are hiding within Serbia for fear of being arrested by the police and sent to military prison. Although usually sentences are reduced in a second trial after being arrested, there still is a lot of uncertainty what can be expected. And although the „state of war" was put out of force end of June, still trials against draft evaders use the regulations which have been into force during the state of war.

The situation is a bit better in Montenegro, where the Montenegrin government refused to put into effect the state of war and where the police is not cooperating with the military. But nevertheless, there is no way to travel to Serbia without risking of being arrested.

The situation of the about 1,000 Yugoslav draft evaders who fled to Hungary is even worse. After the war officially is over now, they are not granted refugee status, and therefore always have to fear deportation. Without any safe legal status, they are not allowed to work in Hungary, nor are they allowed to travel to other safe countries. NATO states, who called on Serbian soldiers to desert from the army during the war - NATO even threw brochures with this call from planes over Kosov@ - are now refusing them visa and asylum, leaving them in an unsecure status in Hungary. For all of them, the war is not over until an amnesty is introduced.

When the war in Bosnia was ended with the Dayton agreement, part of the agreement was an amnesty for draft evaders and deserters, that had to be introduced in all three participating states - in Yugoslavia, Bosnia and Croatia. However, although this amnesty might have been not as good as it could have been, it allowed draft evaders and deserters to return to Yugoslavia - and at the same time it allowed the NATO states to deport draft evaders and deserters who have fled and asked for asylum in NATO countries to deport them back to Serbia. Many of those now have immediately being drafted with the start of NATOs attacks and thus became „legitimate military targets", rewarding their lengthy refusal to participate in the former wars by reducing them to the status of cannon fodder, as Biljana Kovacevic-Vuco, president of the Yugoslav Lawyers Committee for Human Rights, puts it.

However, this time there even is no regulation for an amnesty. Neither the agreement between NATO and Yugoslavia, nor UN Security Council Resolution 1244 call for an amnesty of deserters and draft evaders. The lack of an amnesty leaves a lot of room for political maneuvring for the Serbian authorities. Because the number of charges against draft evaders and deserters more than doubles the available places in prison in Serbia, trials will be done selectivly, especially against those who spoke out against the regime. Even most of the opposition parties don't talk about amnesty, for fear of being accused for lack of patriotism.

Yugoslav human rights and anti-war groups are planning an amnesty campaign within Serbia. It is important that this campaign receives outside support by NGOs and war resisters. The war is not over yet.

Yugoslav Lawyers Committee for Human Rights, Admirala Geprata 8/III, 11000 Belgrade, Yugoslavia, tel./fax: +381-11-3617144, email yulaw@EUnet.yu
Women in Black, Jug Bogdanova 18/5, 11000 Belgrade, Yugoslavia, tel./fax: +381-11-623225, email stasazen@eunet.yu
Safe House Project, http://extra.hu/prigovor

Antimilitarist strategy in light of the professionalization of the Spanish army

By Alberto Estefanía (Prisoner for Peace 1998), Basque Country

In the Spring of 1996, after coming to power, the new executive of the Partido Popular proposed to end obligatory military and substitute social service in 2003. In another attempt to demobilize the antimilitarist movement, they are replacing a mixed conscript and professional army with a purely professional one. And so, largely thanks to conscientious objection, the end of military service has been decreed. However, as is well known, the antimilitarist aim has never been merely to put an end to conscription. So a new strategy is now necessary in order to continue the struggle for a world, free of armies, a world without war.

In February 1997, eight years after the first public refusals by objectors to do military service, six members of the Conscientious Objectors Movement (MOC) arrived at the barracks in which they were required to complete their military service and once in uniform, abandoned their posts. This is how Conscientious Objection in the Barracks was formed, itself a logical extension of the previous strategy which seeks the same end - the end of armies and wars - by the same method - disobedience - and which is becoming an increasingly expensive instrument of protest to the army and its programme of professionalization.

For the last eight years, refusal to do military service (Insumisi-n as it is called in Spanish) has constituted our main form of military disobedience in the fight to achieve a demilitarised society. With Conscientious Objection in the Barracks we are taking a step further and bringing the conflict to the actual soldiers. Antimilitarists who desert are court-martialed and condemned to between two years and four months and six years in military prison.

There are in all 27 objectors in barracks throughout the country. At present six of them are being held in the military prison in Alcalá de Henares, and the rest are either awaiting court martial or still on the run. Of course desertion is not the only method the MOC is using in its struggle against the armies; education for peace and in favour of disobedience, objection to military expenditure in the tax budget, the "old" form of refusal to do military service, and attacks on military property etc., are also employed. For example, at this time, apart from the objectors in the barracks there are 28 antimilitarists, men and women, facing charges for perpetrating non-violent acts against the military.

Antimilitarist work is having a strong influence on the process of professionalization. What in the first instance augured a political triumph for the government which promised strong public backing has turned into an awkward problem for it. Although it is true that many young people are happy to be freed from the obligation to complete military or civilian service, it is no less true that the professionalization of the army cannot count on the necessary public support to fulfil its proposed objectives. In the Spanish State there is a rift between society and the army: this is the fruit of the labours of the antimilitarist campaign of the last decades.

Faced with this situation, the Ministry of Defence is making enormous efforts to create a useful image for the army which could justify, on the one hand, the drain on the taxpayers that the increased military expenditure supposes at a time of general reductions in social expenditure and which, on the other hand, could justify its own existence. Hence the constant talk, along with other Western countries, of "peace missions" and "humanitarian forces". Hence, also, the most expensive publicity campaign in the history of the Spanish Armed Forces in order to recruit soldiers for the professional army. Nevertheless, the figures speak for themselves: in the last draft, despite the significant reduction in entrance requirements for the new army, only 1.2 applications were made per available place. This more than ever opens the door to failure for the professionalization process.

As for the MOC, whether professionalization fails or is simply achieved with great difficulty, we will continue to use disobedience to denounce the injustices that the armed forces support in the world by defending the interests of the richest whilst condemning to poverty more than 80% of the world's population. We will continue to push history towards a future of peace in which armies have no place.

KEM-MOC (Movement of Conscientious Objection, Basque Country)

Trial against total objector Marko Langert on 1 December 1999

By Torsten Froese

On Prisoners for Peace Day, the German total objector Marko Langert will be on trial in Leipzig, Germany. Marko Langert was already sentenced to a fine of 1,600 DM in March 1998 because of his consequent decision also to refuse to perfom the unarmed substitute service, which he sees as a service for war as well. In Germany persons who perform substitute service and therefore are recognised as „conscientious objectors" by the state in times of war can be mobilised to support the armed forces as well as to keep state and government functions running. As well as conscripts, civil servants are part of the total defence conception of Germany.

At present total objectors in Germany are in the average sentenced to 6 month prison. The highest possible punishment for „leaving the flag" (§ 16 military punishment law) or „leaving the service" (§ 53 law on civilian service) is 5 years of prison.

Not only are total objectors within the military subject to imprisonment for two or three month's without any legal rights, i.e. the right of legal defence, before they are put in front of a civil court, they also have to face a new call-up. According to the judgements of the German constitutional court, total objectors will be called-up again, if the verdict doesn't explicitly state that the objection was a decision out of reasons of conscience.

Marko Langert too received a second call-up from the Civilian Service Administration and now faces an illegal second punishment (according to Art. 103 III of the German constitution, which prohibits a second trial because of the same accusation).

The trial starts on 1. December 1999 at 9 am. Amtsgericht Leipzig, Bernhard-Göring-Strasse 64, 04275 Leipzig GERMANY
Marko Langert, Tarostraße 14, 04 103 Leipzig, email soz95bgs@studserv.uni-leipzig.de
Judge at AG Leipzig Ms Walther, Tel.: +49-341/49 40 3 17
Lawyer Jörg Eichler, Tel./Fax: +49-801 49 89, email je519121@Rcs1.urz.tu-dresden.de
Lawyer Torsten Froese, Tel.: +49-69 / 53 31 05 oder +49-69 / 498 03 94, Fax: +49-69 / 4 99 00 07, email dfgvkffm@t-online.de

Some Advice to Those who will Serve Time in Prison

If instead of being hanged by the neck
you're thrown inside
for not giving up hope
in the world, in your country, in people,
if you do ten or fifteen years
apart from the time you have left,
you won't say
'Better I had swung from the end of a rope like a flag'-
you'll put your foot down and live.
I might not be a pleasure exactly,
but it's your solemn duty
to live one more day
to spite the enemy.
Part of you many live alone inside
like a stone at the bottom of a well.
But the other part
must be so caught up
in the flurry or the world
that you shiver there inside
when outside, at forty days' distance, a leaf moves.
To wait for letters inside
or to sing sad songs,
or to lie awake all night staring at the ceiling
is sweet, but dangerous.
Look at your face from shave to shave,
forget you age,
watch out for lice,
and for spring nights:
and always remember
to eat every last piece of bread-
also, don't forget to laugh heartily.
And, who knows,
the woman you love any no longer love you.
Don't say it's no big thing-
it's like the snapping of a green branch
to the man inside.
To think of roses and gardens inside is bad,
to think of seas and mountains is good.
Read and write without stopping to rest,
and I also advise weaving,
and also making mirrors.
I means it's not that you can't pass
ten or fifteen years inside,
and more even-
you can,
as long as the jewel
in the left side of your chest doesn't lose its luster!

Nazim Hikmet (Turkish Poet)

Nazim Hikmet (1902-1963). Although Salonika is now a city in Northern Greece, Hikmet was born there when it was still part of the Ottoman Empire. He was educated at a naval college in Istanbul and then in Moscow. Soon after he returned to Turkey after studying in Moscow, he was sentenced to thirty-five years in jail for his political activities. He was released from prison in 1951, by which time he had achieved an international reputation as a poet- one of the first Turkish poets to do so.

Letter from a conscientious objector in prison in Israel

Lotahn wrote from prison,
"Ideas and morals cannot be locked in a prison. Aspirations for justice cannot be silenced or put behind bars. I was put in jail for fighting for justice, but imprisoning me cannot imprison the universal fight for a world where immoralities are not regarded as painful but necessary realities, where men are not sent off to kill or be killed in wasteful wars forced upon them, a world where greed does not control human existence nor detract us from what is right.

The amount of support and encouragement I have received from so many people from around the world of different backgrounds and ages has convinced me without a shadow of a doubt that I am not alone in this struggle, that I am one of an ever growing movement which is bound to be triumphant. It is by raising our voices and struggling for what we know is right that we will achieve our goals. It is because of you raising your voices in support of me that I can see the struggle through and not be deterred and that my voice has not been silenced in spite of my imprisonement. It is by us standing united, tall and loud that we will see the struggle through together to our victory.
With great respect and appreciation to all."
Lotahn Raz

Prisoners for Peace Honour Roll 1999

Armenia

Samvel Manukyan (in 07/97, out 05/00)
g Kosh, ITK, Nachalniku, Armenia
Objector, Jehovah's Witness, reported to have been severely beaten.

Karen Voskanian (in 09/98 - expected out 04/01)
g Gyumri, SIZO, Nachalniku, Armenia
Objector, Jehovah's Witness

Gagik Ohanian
Artur Stepanian
Armen Asoian
Grigor Daian
Artur Martirosian
Ruslan Ohanganian
Gurgen Sevoian
All are imprisoned as a result of their conscientious objection to military service.

Britain

Although we are unaware of anyone in prison on 1 December, during 1999 at least 20 peace activists from Bread not Bombs, Ploughshares, Trident Ploughshares, Campaign for the Accountability of American Bases and Aldermaston, Sellafield and Menwith Hill Women's Peace Camps were imprisoned for antimilitarist non-violent action with sentences ranging from 7 days to 9 months.

Finland

Jukka Johansson (in 13.7.1999 -- out 29.1.2000)
Kim Åke (in 30.8.1999 -- out 17.3.2000)
Suomenlinnan työsiirtola, Suomenlinna C 8600190 Helsinki, Finland

Tom Kettunen (in 21.9.1999 -- out 8.4.2000)
Turun lääninvankila PL 212 20101 Turku, Finland

Otso Kivekäs (in 19.10.1999 -- out 6.5.2000)
Nakke Leppänen (in 11.10.1999 -- out 28.4.2000)
Otto Salin (in 4.10.1999 -- out 21.4.2000)
Niko Salminen (in 15.9.1999 -- out 2.4.2000)
Helsingin työsiirtola 01531 Vantaa, Finland

Antra Löövi (in 18.8.1999 -- out 6.3.2000)
Haminan työsiirtola, Karjakatu 25 49400 Hamina, Finland

The following total objectors have been released this year:
Juan Meneses, Mikko Suonpää, Mikko Juhanantti, Mika Iisakka, Kai Hall, Jan Hellsten, Juri Rosenberg, Markus Latvala, Teppo Salonen, Harri Mulari

Germany

Dr. Wolfgang Sternstein
Justizvollzugsanstalt Rottenburg, Schloss 1, 72108 Rottenburg, Germany
140 days: in prison since 22.11.1999 for action at the EUCOM facility in Stuttgart.

Fabian-Kai-Albert Kultscher
JVA Hildesheim, Godehardplatz 7, 31134 Hildesheim, Germany.
Total resister to military service, evaded arrest for two years but will be tried on 14 December. He also faces charges arising from attendance at anti-nuclear and anti-racist protests.

Indonesia

Five East Timorese -- sentenced for between nine years and life for helping organise nonviolent protests at the time of, and later in commemoration of the 1991 Santa Cruz massacre -- have been promised release within the next weeks.
João Freitas da Camara at LP Cipinang, Jakarta, Indonesia; Francisco Mirando Branco, Gregorio da Cunha Saldanha, Jacinto das Neves Raimundo Alves, and Saturnino da Costa Belo, at LP Semarang, Semarang, Central Java, Indonesia.

The following members of the PRD, a political party illegal during the Suharto years, are also expected to be released before 1 December. All were imprisoned for organising nonviolent protests, for labour organising, and for solidarity work with East Timorese:
Budiman Sudjatmiko, Ignatius Damianus Pranowo, Gusti Agung Anom Astika, Petrus Haryanto, Suroso, Yakobus Eko Kurniawan at LP Cipinang, Jakarta, Indonesia
Garda Sembiring, also a PRD member, at LP Tangerang, Jakarta, Indonesia

The decision to release the remaining Timorese and PRD prisoners was made shortly after Indonesian president Abdurrahman Wahid took office in October. Delays blamed on paperwork have prevented their release so far.

Israel

Mordechai Vanunu
Ashkelon Prison, Ashkelon, Israel
18 years, Nuclear whistleblower convicted of espionage and treason - kidnapped 9/30/1986. More information available from U.S. Campaign to Free Mordechai Vanunu, 2206 Fox Ave., Madison, WI 53711, USA. (+1 608-257-4764; http://www.nonviolence.org/vanunu)

Lotahn Raz (#6963940)
DZ 02507, Tzahal, Israel
Political objector, spent three almost consecutive terms of imprisonment between 8 Aug. and 8 Oct. 1999. He has been exempted from military service.

Walid Nafa Druze objecting to serve in the Israeli army on national and political grounds, was held in prison between 1 Jun and 10 Sep. this year. This was his 7th and last term of imprisonment since March 1997. He is now exempted from military service.)

Oleg Bar-On Pacifist, spent four terms of imprisonment between Nov. 1998 and July 1999. He is now exempted from military service.

Yehuda Agus Anarchist resister, was imprisoned twice at the beginning of the year. Not officially exempted from military service. At the moment he is outside Israel as he might be in danger of imprisonment if he returns to Israel.

Dimitry Sokolik Pacifist, spent three consecutive terms of imprisonment between 30 June and 22 Aug 1999. He has an order to report to service again on 22 Nov, which is likely to be the start of his next term of imprisonment.

Mauritzio Lazaleh Was imprisoned once between 6 and 18 Sep. 1999. He has been exempted from military service.

State of Spain

Elías Rozas Alvarez
Ramiro Paz Correa
Plácido Ferrándiz Albert
Raul Alonso
Ignacio "Tasio" Ardanaz
Javi Gomez
Rafael "Fali" Fernandez
Alberto Naya
Josef Ghanime
All are held in:
Prisión Militar de Alcalá, Ctra Alcalá-Meco, km 5, 28805 Alcalá de Henares, Madrid, State of Spain.
(total objectors, in 08/1997)

Unai Molinero
Contact: c/o KEM-MOC, Iturribide 12-1 D, 48005 Bilbao, Euskadi, State of Spain.

Carlos Pérez

Turkey

Akin Birdal
Mihriban Kyrdok
Muharrem Copur
Guzel Yarar
Eren Keskin (IHD, Human Rights Society, Chairman of the Istanbul Branch)
Mukaddes (a member of the IHD administration)
Leman Yurtsever (a member of the IHD administration)
Sensver Kaya (member of the IHD administration)
Umit Efe
Ozer Kazak
Zehra Yimaz
Cemile Atmaca
Hasan Tap
Mehtap Kurucay
Kenan Bulut

Turkmenistan

Roman Sidelnikov
g Chardzhau, ITU, Nachalniku, Turkmenistan
(in 06/1998 - out 05/2000, sentenced to two years conditionally in May 1996 for refusing call-up papers, but amnestied six months later. Sentenced in June 1998 to two years' imprisonment for "draft evasion".)

Oleg Voronin
g Gushgi, ITU voennogo naznacheniya, Nachalniku, Turkmenistan
(in 09/1998 - expected out 10/2003, sentenced to five and a half years for "evading military service", after he was forcibly removed to a military unit. He is believed to have been severely beaten and to have been refused a lawyer, No one has had access to Oleg Voronin since his detention in Gushgi military prison.)

United States of America

Tom Lewis-Borbely (#03609-036, sentenced for 3 months for refusing to pay restitution)
c/o 136 Austin St., Worcester, MA 01609, USA

Martha Scarborough
Joyce Parkhurst
c/o Nye County Sheriff, Detention Center, POB 831 Tonopah, NV 89049, USA
 (De-fence action at Nevada nuclear weapons test site)

Michele Naar-Obed (12 months)
c/o Jonah House, 1301 Moreland, Baltimore, MD 21216, USA
("Jubilee Plowshares/East" direct disarmament of fast-attack submarine, 8/95. Probation revoked, returned to prison, 7/99) [more info from Jonah House, above, and disarmnow@erols.com]

Daniel Sicken (#28360-013, sentenced for 41 months)
FPC Lewisburg, P.O. Box 2000, Lewisburg, PA 17837.
Oliver Sachio Coe (#28361-013, sentenced for 30 months)
Unit AD, FPC Allenwood, P.O. Box 1000, Montgomery, PA 17752-9718, USA
("Minuteman III Plowshares" direct disarmament of nuclear missile silo, 8/6/98) [More info from MM III Plowshares Support, c/o Citizens for Peace in Space, POB 915, Colorado Springs, CO 80901.]

John Patrick Liteky (#83725-020, sentenced for several blood pouring protests against the School of the Americas at the Pentagon on 29/09 and 20/10/97 and at Ft Benning on 25/02/98)
 FPC Sheridan, PO Box 6000, Sheridan, OR 97378-6000, USA
Fr. Bill Bichsel SJ (#86275-020)
FPC Sheridan Unit 5, P.O. Box 6000, Sheridan, OR 97378-6000, USA

The following were sentenced to 30 days on 14 October; all are now out of prison.

Lauren Cannon
Kateri McCarthy
Eddy Dyer
Sean Donahue
Jonathan Leavitt
Scott Kenji Warren
Blockade at Raytheon corporate offices, 28/05/99, in 14/10/99

FR Yugoslavia

With the proclamation of a state of war on 25 March 1999, a number of special provisions of the Yugoslav Criminal Code and the Law on the Army came into force. These included a sentence of one to 10 years' imprisonment for not responding to a call-up; at least five years for avoiding call-up by going into hiding; and five to 20 years for leaving the country or remaining abroad in order to avoid call-up.

The cases of between 4000 and 30,000 conscientious objectors, draft evaders and deserters are currently before the military courts. Several hundred are already said to have been imprisoned for sentences of at least five years. Many of the imprisoned conscientious objectors, draft evaders, and deserters are reportedly held in prisons at Zabela -Pozarevac, Sremska Mitrovica, and Nis.

For further information and contact addresses, see Andreas Speck's article in this pack.

Ideas for action

Sending cards and letters

If you get an interesting reply from a prisoner, please send a copy to the WRI office, 5 Caledonian Rd, London N1 9DX, England.

If your card is returned, send it to the appropriate embassy in your country, with a request that it be forwarded to the prisoner.

Support our future work for Prisoners for Peace...

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Send contributions to: War Resisters' International, 5 Caledonian Road, London N1 9DX, England (+44171 278 4040; fax 278 0444; email info@wri-irg.org).

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Prisoners for Peace in other languages

The Prisoners for Peace list and articles are also published in Spanish, German, and French, both on paper and electronically. If you would like a paper copy of the December issue of WRI's newsletter, El fusil roto / das zerbrochene Gewehr / Le fusil brisé, please contact the WRI office at 5 Caledonian Road, London N1 9DX, Britain (fax +44171 278 0444) or send an email message to infoatwri-irg.org.

To read the online version of the list in Spanish, German, or French, simply click on one of the titles below:

Thank you...

A special thanks to all those who helped in the preparation of this year's Prisoners for Peace.