Displaced (6 page)

“Well our members would like certainty is
all. And we feel that some of the requests on our members are
unreasonable.”

“Requests from the ICC?”

“Yes”

“What kind of requests?”

“Requests for information. Again our members
are not opposed to cooperating where they can. It’s just with
regard to sensitive information, our members want to be able to
conduct their business without the threat that their internal
communications and arrangements are going to be made public, when
they themselves have done nothing wrong.”

“And we’re talking about criminal
investigations right? After all it is the criminal court.”

“Right these are international criminal
investigations, but ones that only tangentially involve our members
and involve no actual wrongdoing on their part.”

“Can’t your members just ignore the requests
for information, does the Court have any real enforcement against
them?”

“Well perhaps they could, but that would
raise a host of other issues doing business in some countries and
the PR internationally would not be good for us. Our members just
want certainty, they want a uniform standard and don’t feel they
should be subject to every extranational body, particularly one not
recognized by the United States.”

“All right, but I’m just not sure what we can
do for you. The ICC is really not something we can legislate on,
they’re out of our jurisdiction. You might want to make a complaint
with the State Department.”

“We think you can help.”

“Okay”

“You see there is the American
Service-Members Protection Act.”

“The American Service-Members Protection
Act?” Jennifer raised her eyebrows and looked at David who refused
to return her glance. The American Service-Members Protection Act,
derisively called the Hague Invasion Act, was designed to protect
American military personnel serving in peacekeeping operations from
being prosecuted by the ICC. It authorizes the President to take
all means to prevent such a prosecution.

“Yes,” now Greg began, “we believe the Act
protects our members and actually prohibits their cooperation with
the ICC.”

“Really, I wouldn’t have thought of that.”
Jen made little effort to mask the sarcasm in her words. “Well
great then, sounds like your problem is solved. Under some
interpretation of the law you’re covered, case closed.”

Now David caught Jennifer’s eye, he seemed to
be asking or willing her to play it straight.

“Is that a copy of the Act?” She was looking
at the document with the title of the Act in front of Greg. “Can I
take a look?”

Greg slid the document over to her.

Holding up the document and pointing to the
title, “most would think this is intended to protect service
members in the Court’s custody, the cases you’re talking about
don’t involve service members do they?” she said.

“No but….”

“And let’s see, it says ‘members of the armed
forces of the United States should be free from the risk of
prosecution by the International Criminal Court,’ it seems to me
the Act is really intended for military personnel.”

“Yes but,” said Greg, who was in charge of
the legal details, “sections of the Act, we believe, specifically
prohibit our participation.”

“Okay, I’m looking at the Act, what sections
are those?”

“Well,” now flipping through his own copy,
“section 2004, ‘prohibition on cooperation with the International
Criminal Court’ says and I quote ‘no agency or entity of any state
or local government, including any court, may cooperate with the
International Criminal Court in response to a request for
cooperation submitted by the International Criminal Court’ and then
again ‘no agency or entity of the Unites States Government or of
any state or local government, including any court, may provide
support to the International Criminal Court.’”

Did he actually have an argument? Jennifer
refused to believe it.

“We contend” continued Greg “that as
companies incorporated under state laws our members are state
entities and thus prohibited from cooperation.”

Greg finished and there was a short silence
in the room. Edward shifted in his seat and David gave a pained
look at Jennifer.

“Wow” she said “that’s a, you gotta admit
that’s a pretty broad interpretation of the statute. I mean, I
think what we’re talking about here are war criminals, or alleged
war criminals, not military folks, so that might be your first
problem. As a practical matter what you want is to exclude any US
corporation from cooperation with the Court. In any case, I don’t
think the statute was intended to go that far. Regardless, what I
think is largely beside the point, you have your interpretation,
there is nothing stopping you from asserting it and refusing to
cooperate. Knock yourself out!” The last part with a bit of
flourish. She was flush and felt herself becoming smug and caught
herself. She retreated. “I’m just not sure what we can do for
you.”

“Well,” said Edward after a pause, “we do
have something in mind, something for you to consider,” he paused
again, waiting for an interruption and when none came he continued.
“We’d like for you to consider some language in the Foreign Affairs
Authorization Act, some language in the committee report.”

Jennifer took a breath and was about to
object, she didn’t care what kind of language it was, this wasn’t
in the Senator’s interest and this wasn’t their fight. She was
certain that using a law designed to defend the military serving
overseas in order to protect commercial interests was a transparent
act of cynicism. But as she opened her mouth and the words formed
in her throat, David interrupted her.

“We’ll consider it Ed, no promises but we’ll
consider it. Do you have some language?”

“Not with us, but we can get you some.”

“Okay, well you have Jennifer’s email, you
can send it to her,” he said ready to put an end to the meeting.
Jennifer looked at him wide eyed and he did not return her gaze.
The others took their cue and began gathering their things, while
David made small talk about the Senate calendar and Jennifer sat
tight lipped. She managed to smile and say goodbye.

“Thanks again” Edward was saying “and we
appreciate your consideration and taking the time.”

There were thanks all around, they said their
goodbyes and made their way out of the cramped room. In the
reception area after they had left, Jennifer looked at David,
“really Dave? Seriously? It’s the service member’s protection act,
not the corporate CEO’s protection act.”

“Look do me a favor, just play it straight.
You can make your arguments against, but write it up in a memo and
for the Senator okay. They’re contributors.”

“I can’t believe we’re having to take this
seriously, this is a joke.”

“I can give it to someone else, if you don’t
want to handle it.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Oh no, I can
handle it, I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” he said. “Listen, wait
until they get back to you before you do anything, maybe we’ll get
lucky and they won’t follow up.” But they both knew that was
unlikely.

Nicole and Philomene spent the daylight hours
huddled under debris leaned against a shack. From time to time,
they heard sporadic automatic gunfire and other times the single
crack of a gunshot. Once they heard screaming that took the form of
pleading but they couldn’t make out the words. At one point,
Philomene heard movement and peaked her head over the broken wall
to see Ugandan soldiers in uniform with AK 47s slung over their
shoulders directing Hema militia to pick up a dead body and move it
away. Philomene worried about Nicole. She had barely spoken since
her Uncle had dropped her off two days ago. She sat withdrawn
unwilling to engage her surroundings and completely dependent on
her Aunt. Philomene tried to encourage her and to steel her for the
difficulties to come.

When the sun went down, Philomene waited an
hour and then gathered Nicole. The two of them picked themselves
out of the debris and walked around to the front of the shack. The
alley facing them was empty and they made their way over the packed
earth and around the rubble strewn by the recently departed. At the
end of the alley, Philomene turned the corner and then brought
Nicole around behind her. Nicole heard the flies first and then was
hit by the smell. To the side of the dirt track, she could make out
the corpse sprawled in the weeds. As she got closer, she saw a
woman with a deep wound at the base of her skull, nearly
decapitating her. Her legs were bare and her thighs had been
stripped of their flesh. In the receding light, Nicole could see
her thigh bones. She pushed her head into Philomene’s back moving
her forward.

It was a short distance back to Philomene’s
house where they had started earlier that same day. Philomene sat
Nicole down by a post demarking a property line and went ahead. She
crossed by a neighbor’s house and approached her house from the
back. It was quiet and appeared empty. She peered in the back
window confirming no one was there before retrieving Nicole and
leading her through the front door of the house. Inside she told
Nicole to got to bed, while she stayed awake sitting in an armchair
against an interior wall with a view of the yard. During the night,
she heard a man calling to one of her neighbors, a Lendu, by name.
She heard no reply and hoped that her neighbor had left. In the
morning, she and Nicole would leave and make their way to the
displaced persons camp in Djugu. Philomene was Hema and could stay,
but it was likely only a matter of time before the Lendu reprisal
and she wanted to leave. Philomene stayed up and only dozed off
toward the early morning, after a few hours of sleep she woke with
the sun. Already packed, she reorganized their few things and woke
Nicole.

“You must get up dear.”

“I’m awake.”

She wasn’t certain if Nicole had slept during
the night.

“I need you to be brave dear.”

“Okay Auntie, I will.”

For breakfast they ate eggs and bananas that
had been left over from the day before. Then they got their things
together and walked out the front door and headed west to the edge
of town. The town smelled of ash, and thin streams of smoke came
from the remains of a burned house. They walked past a corpse in
repose on the side of the street under a tree with its arm under
its head and its back turned to them as if napping in the shade.
Flies danced on the surface of the corpse’s skin and congregated in
the deep red cuts to the body. They were eyed by the militia, who
glared at them and then ignored them, and watched by the Ugandans,
who smiled and tried to catch their eye. At the edge of town, they
came to a roadblock. Several young men armed with machetes stood
around together with a Ugandan soldier in uniform. Among them
Philomene recognized her former neighbor, Yaphet.

“Hello Yaphet”

“Ms. Philomene, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Where are you going?”

“We’re going to Bunia,” she replied. “I’m
going to deposit this one with her Uncle.”

“You know you can stay here, no problems.
We’re taking care of the outsiders.”

“Oh we know, we know, but her Uncle is
expecting us.”

As Philomene was talking, Nicole couldn’t
help but look at the man standing at the side of the road. Flanked
by militia members, he was stripped to the waist. His face seemed
calm in a placid show of resignation but his eyes were full of fear
and darted between Nicole and his minders. Yaphet caught Nicole’s
glance.

“Heh, you see this one?” he said to her. “He
says he is Hema. We have a test to see for sure. Watch this.”

Yaphet produced an egg from his pocket and
bent down to smooth the ground in front of the prisoner, who began
licking his lips and breathing deeply. The two men on either side
of the man had to hold him upright as his legs began to tremble
underneath him. “If he is a Lendu, the egg will roll towards him,”
Yaphet said as he held the egg in his hand and then with a pendular
motion of his arm rolled the egg on the ground in front of the man.
The egg rolled straight and then tailed away from the prisoner.

“Okay friend, you are telling the truth,” he
said to the man almost disappointed, “you can go now.” The militia
released him and the man stumbled and affected a bow and murmured
“thank you,” before hurriedly walking away trailing his sweat
stained shirt before his captors changed their minds.

Turning back to Philomene, “ah mama, why do
you want to go all the way to Bunia, that is a long way to
walk.”

“I know but we have to go, we are
expected.”

“Okay then, well be careful, safe
journey.”

“Thank you and you be careful also.”

Philomene and Nicole picked up their small
bundles and walked around the collection of logs and tires blocking
the road. After walking a short distance, Philomene looked back and
waived. She remembered Yaphet from French class in primary school.
He waived back.

****

Jonathan kept, so to speak, a hairdresser. He
met Debra over beer at the Rock Garden bar outside the Speke Hotel,
when his next door neighbor, Mike, introduced them. She was not a
prostitute, although there were plenty of those at the Rock Garden.
Petite, dark and pretty, after a couple of dances, she had asked to
see his apartment. This was over a year ago. Since then she had
been both maid and girlfriend. He didn’t pay her, except to clean
the apartment and buy groceries, and during the week she cooked
dinner for him. They had an understanding of sorts and Debra didn’t
ask much from the relationship, which suited him.

When he woke in the morning, she was already
up and sat on the couch paging through a magazine and looked up at
him when he entered the room.