PART OF THE GLOBAL CLAMOUR
On
26 June, to commemorate the UN International Day in Support of Victims
of Torture, about 1OO people gathered in the State Library of NSW
for a Friends of STARTTS/Amnesty International seminar on the rehabilitation
of victims of torture. Peter Williamson reports.
In
Australia it may seem that torture is a distant issue, but its
not and we cant abrogate our responsibilities. As a nation
we have an obligation to be part of the global clamour and everything
it implies. Also, as a refugee-receiving nation, we have an obligation
to respond with sensitivity to those who have experienced trauma
and torture and to provide the services they need to continue their
lives in Australia. So said John Casey, Chairperson, Friends
of STARTTS Management Committee, in welcoming people to the seminar.
At a seminar to mark the UN International Day in Support of Victims
of Torture, the treatment of asylum-seekers in Australia was alluded
to by many speakers, including Craig Knowles, NSW Minister for Health,
who said: Australia has to face up to the way in which we
treat the refugees in detention centres, many of them children,
many of them shockingly dispossessed in their countries of origin,
many of them traumatized in their journey from their home to here,
their new home, and who still face much more in terms of the system,
the manipulation by governments, before they can find peace and
a degree of comfort in their new environment.
Having a day to commemorate the victims of torture serves to focus
attention at least once in the year on the ongoing abuse of human
rights around the world and the resultant flight of affected people.
While many parliaments condemn the practice, the gathering was reminded
that torture remains widespread.
Professor Stuart Rees of the Centre for Peace and Conflict Studies
at the University of Sydney, questioned what torture means, and
said that one form was denial of essential services, such as the
inadequate provision of medical treatment. Again, we were reminded
that no nation can be complacent about its status as being free
of torture, and that even in those where torture is thought to unthinkable
we must always be alert to the possibility of allowing practices
to develop which come dangerously close to various kinds of torture.
Professor Derrick Silove of the Psychiatry Research and Teaching
Unit, School of Psychiatry, University of New South Wales, and based
in Southwest Sydney Area Health Service, quoted Primo Levi, who
survived Auschwitz, and defined torture as the most unfathomable
evil; the deliberate infliction of pain, suffering and humiliation
on helpless and innocent victims for the sake of some ideological,
political or religious belief system.
On a happy note were two announcements. The first, was that STARTTS
Director, Jorge Aroche, was elected to the executive of the International
Council for Health and Human Rights and will be the Asia/Pacific
representative.
Craig Knowles spoke of his pleasure in recognising the work done
by organisations such as STARTTS and the Refugee Health Service
in NSW, and of his extraordinary amazement at just how competent
the professionals who work in this field really are. To work with
people who have been ripped apart, and to assist them with their
physical needs, their psychological needs, their needs of care,
not just for them but for their families, and to do that with a
grace and style and competence and professionalism which I now have
had the opportunity to witness, is just a wonderful experience for
somebody like me who has never had to experience first hand that
horror and trauma.
He spoke of a need for specific counselling services for children.
It was appropriate that the gathering heard the moving words of
two participants from the STARTTS Youth Program. Ana Gagic, a Year
12 student at Cabramatta High School, recited her poem titled Illusion
(see the back cover) and 16 year-old Zlata Nezirovic who spoke frankly
about her familys separation, her flight from her home in
the Former Yugoslavia, and the long road to eventual resettlement
and adjusting to a new society in Australia.
Speakers mentioned their inability to comprehend what it must be
like to experience torture, but even for survivors, expression of
the experience can be impossible. Derrick Silove quoted one of his
patients words: Whatever I say is inadequate, words
escape me. Maybe the biggest problem that torture survivors face
is the failure of language. There is no language that describes
what they did to me and the way it has continued to affect me. I
am no longer the same person that I was.
So how do we approach the issue of rehabilitation? asked
Professor Silove. To illustrate his answer, he told three incomplete
stories.
Story one. A white man, dressed in a casual suit is standing
in discussion with a group outside a burnt-out building. He turns
and walks through a puddle of water and mud, seemingly oblivious
to the mess it is making of his shoes. He crouches over a rusty
tap and begins tinkering with the leaky pipes, watched carefully
by the accompanying group.
He stands up, walks back to the group and mutters: You
know I have a background in water supply. What a pity, he
says with a gesture of frustration, if only I had the time
and some materials, I could patch it up.
Two. Two people are sitting in a room at STARTTS. The younger
person is briefing the consultant about a patient. Hes told
that the patient is a 23 year-old woman from the horn of Africa
region. Shes grown up in a war-torn country knowing no other
life than one that was disrupted by fighting, chaos, and danger.
One brother died in combat, another was tortured in front of the
family, as a form of intimidation. And her father was abducted,
incarcerated, tortured and killed. How could anyone survive, psychologically,
such trauma?
Yet it didnt end there. She and her two sisters were
abducted and enslaved by the warlords and she had to endure years
of sex-slavery, abuse and violent punishment when she attempted
to escape. Eventually, during an attack by another militia group,
she was able to escape and, miraculously, she was one of those able
to find her way through the treacherous desert to a refugee camp
in Kenya, where she was reunited with members of her clan and with
her mother.
She was fortunate to be offered resettlement in Australia
- one of the very few - but soon after arrival lapsed into a severe
depression for which she sought help from STARTTS.
Picture three. The same refugee camp on the edge of the desert
in a very remote part of northern Kenya, and a consultation is taking
place between a UNHCR consultant enquiring into mental health services,
and this is taking place with a head man and clan leaders of a displaced
Sudanese group living in the camp.
In attendance are the community mental health counselors.
This is a group of volunteers or semi-volunteers working with a
single psychiatric nurse in a camp of 60,000 people. Now the numbers
have increased to 100,000 people. And they are all dressed in their
distinctive blue overalls to identify them as mental health community
workers.
When asked, the report uncomplainingly that each worker is
paid the equivalent of one dollar a week for their work. Not really
pay, but a stipend. When asked about transport, since the camp is
large, and spread out, they reply that each worker covers approximately
10 kilometers by foot, every day to visit their clients in their
clinics and their homes (no cardiovascular disease in this camp,
I should add). The visiting consultant asks almost spontaneously,
when he hears that they are walking under this heat, What
keeps you going in your work under these conditions?
Ill come back to these later.
Derrick Silove told the seminar that there is no single treatment
for torture survivors, and that in all instances, important questions
need to be considered before any rehabilitation is embarked on.
Firstly, it must be asked Is the intervention necessary?
A second question is what does the person want and can we engage
the person in a partnership that will minimise the power imbalance
inherent in most therapeutic relationships? Thirdly, will the comprehensive
yet targeted intervention consider contextual, cultural, social
and spiritual factors?
And finally, what provisions can be taken to ensure that there is
no unintentional harm to the survivor or his community?
Silove took pains to emphasise that, given appropriate support structures,
most torture survivors adapt. He added that it is a mistake to regard
torture as a direct cause of mental illness. Torture survivors
are not, by definition, mentally ill.
However, the quality of the post torture environment is critical
to successful adaptation. He noted that detaining torture victims
does little to improve the restoration of their mental state and,
from a public health perspective, we have a paradoxical situation
in Australia where on the one hand, we are helping torture
survivors and, on the other hand, we are doing a lot to make things
worse.
Finally, he said that a minority of torture survivors do suffer
from protracted and severe psychological reactions and do need timely,
active and energetic intervention. And to declare that they are
not in need of that intervention is a very serious mistake.
To end his talk, Derrick Silove returned to the three stories he
had begun.
First, the white man crouching in a pool of mud under a leaky
water tank - well who was he? His name is Knowles and many of you
will know him as the Minister of Health in New South Wales. Now
this is not a party political plug - Im sure Minister Knowles
would be the first to acknowledge that a minister on either side
of politics might have done the same thing. That is, offer to visit
East Timor to support a struggling and fledgling mental health service
run by a hastily assembled Australian coalition called PRADET.
Craig Knowles spontaneous act, not only to visit East
Timor, but also to take a practical interest in the nuts and bolts
of the project, down to ensuring water supply, is precisely what
was needed at this point of development of the rehabilitation program.
This is an important message. It shows that what we have to attend
to is all aspects of the foundations before making progress.
The key principle regarding good rehabilitation approaches is precisely
that. It takes a multitude of skills, knowledge and contributions
and the approach has to be creative, flexible and meaningful within
that particular context. It cannot be done by one expert or one
sector. It requires the input of all.
Narrative two - the young woman from the horn of Africa. When
this young woman walked into the room, there were several surprises.
Of course, what I expected was someone extremely disabled, extremely
depressed and chronically traumatised and I had this vision ahead
of me of years and years of painstaking and slow rehabilitation.
Here are the surprises: first she was dressed in ultra-modern
Australian get-up, second she spoke fluent English, and third she
recognised me. She had met me when I visited the refugee camp as
part of a UNHCR mission. So we could converse fondly about the director
of the psychiatric service there, Michael Kamau who later came out
to Australia to visit us, and so on.
And what was on her mind? Was it about torture? Well, it was
about her mother, actually, who was still living a traditional life
in Sydney, and was upset about her daughters determination
to live the life of an Australian with all its freedoms. And much
of the intervention (although the issue of torture came into it
in a complex intermingled way) was about resolving the acculturation
issue between the mother and the daughter.
The daughter herself was ambitious and determined, went on
to study at TAFE and is currently employed and socialising mainly
with Australians.
So the message here is Dont assume the worst when
someone has been tortured. The human spirit is a powerful force.
And the final story - the Sudanese mental health workers in
the refugee camp whom I naïvely asked What keeps you
walking ten kilometers a day in searing heat to see your patients?
The response was a stony silence and I regretted asking the
question. Then one of the spokesmen drew himself up to his full
seven foot two inches, towering above me, and he said quite simply,
We are proud of our work.
And that message lingered with me. I wondered how many of
us wake up in the morning and say we are proud of our work, even
though were paid a lot more than one dollar a day. He did
say something else though: And what we need is bicycles.
And so what I did in my report was emphasise the need for bicycles.
And lo and behold Michael Kamau has told me that they have
got their bicycles.
So, again, what I went there with was an idea that I was going
to train them in some complex therapeutic intervention. What I left
with was ensuring that they had bicycles to do their work.
The public is made aware of the ongoing crimes of torture and persecution
through the excellent work of Amnesty International and others.
However, there is little public knowledge about the personal impact.
Such sessions supplement the work of human rights groups, deepen
our understanding of torture, and harden our resolve to maintain
the global clamour against torture, wherever it occurs
and in whatever form.
Peter Williamson
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