| Opening
Address by UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan at the Opening of the WCAR, Durban, 31 August Yesterday South Africa lost a leader and our brother Thabo a father.
May I ask you now to stand and observe a moment of silence.
Every one of us must feel the symbolism of this moment --
the conjunction of theme, of time and of place.
For decades the name of this country was synonymous with
racism in its vilest form. But today, Mr. President, you and your fellow citizens have
transformed its meaning -- from a by-word for injustice and oppression, into a beacon of
enlightenment and hope, not only for a troubled continent, but for the entire world.
Where else, my friends, could we hold this conference? Who
could teach us how to overcome racism, discrimination and intolerance, if not the people
of this country? We salute you. We salute your leadership, Mr. President. We salute the
heroic movement that you represent.
We salute Madiba, whose absence today we all regret, but
whose presence, in a more profound sense, we all feel.
We salute the memory of all who struggled for justice and
freedom in this country -- from Mohandas Gandhi to Oliver Tambo; from Steve Biko to Ruth
First -- and, of course, Govan Mbeke, for whom we are all in mourning today.
And we also recognize the courage of F.W. de Klerk, who
faced up to the inevitable and persuaded his own people to accept it.
But indeed, my friends, we are here to learn, not to
celebrate. We are here to share experiences, perspectives and assessments -- of how far we
have come, and how much further we must go, if racism is to be defeated.
One thing we can celebrate is the fact that racism is now
universally condemned. Few people in the world today openly deny that human beings are
born with equal rights.
But far too many people are still victimized because they
belong to a particular group -- whether national, ethnic, religious, defined by gender or
by descent.
Often this discrimination veils itself behind spurious
pretexts. People are denied jobs ostensibly because they lack educational qualifications;
or they are refused housing because there is a high crime rate in their community.
Yet these very facts, even when true, are often the result
of discrimination. Injustice traps people in poverty, poverty becomes the pretext for
injustice -- and so new wrongs are piled on the old.
In many places people are maltreated, and denied
protection, on the grounds that they are not citizens but unwanted immigrants. Yet often
they have come to a new country to do work that is badly needed, or are present not by
choice but as refugees from persecution in their own country. Such people have a special
need for protection, and are entitled to it.
In other cases indigenous peoples and national minorities
are oppressed because their culture and self-expression are seen as threats to national
unity -- and when they protest, this is taken as proof of their guilt.
In extreme cases -- which alas are all too common -- people
belonging to such groups are forced from their homes, or even massacred, because it is
claimed that their very presence threatens another people's security.
Sometimes these problems are in part the legacy of terrible
wrongs in the past -- such as the exploitation and extermination of indigenous peoples by
colonial Powers, or the treatment of millions of human beings as mere merchandise, to be
transported and disposed of by other human beings for commercial gain.
The further those events recede into the past, the harder
it becomes to trace lines of accountability. Yet the effects remain. The pain and anger
are still felt. The dead, through their descendants, cry out for justice.
Tracing a connection with past crimes may not always be the
most constructive way to redress present inequalities, in material terms. But man does not
live by bread alone. The sense of continuity with the past is an integral part of each
man's or each woman's identity.
Some historical wrongs are traceable to individuals who are
still alive, or corporations that are still in business. They must expect to be held to
account. The society they have wronged may forgive them, as part of the process of
reconciliation, but they cannot demand forgiveness, as of right.
Far more difficult are the cases where individual profit
and loss have been obscured by a myriad of other, more recent transactions -- yet there is
still continuity between the societies and States of today and those that committed the
original crimes.
Each of us has an obligation to consider where he or she
belongs in this complex historical chain. It is always easier to think of the wrongs one's
own society has suffered. It is less comfortable to think in what ways our own good
fortune might relate to the sufferings of others, in the past or present. But if we are
sincere in our desire to overcome the conflicts of the past, all of us should make that
mental effort.
A special responsibility falls on political leaders, who
have accepted the task of representing a whole society. They are accountable to their
fellow-citizens, but also -- in a sense -- accountable for them, and for the actions of
their predecessors. We have seen, in recent decades, some striking examples of national
leaders assuming this responsibility, acknowledging past wrongs and asking pardon from --
or offering an apology to -- the victims and their heirs.
Such gestures cannot right the wrongs of the past. They can
sometimes help to free the present -- and the future -- from the shackles of the past.
But in any case, Mr. President, past wrongs must not
distract us from present evils. Our aim must be to banish from this new century the hatred
and prejudice that have disfigured previous centuries.
The struggle to do that is at the very heart of our work at
the United Nations. This year especially, at such events as the Conference on the Least
Developed Countries, the Special Session on HIV/AIDS, or next month's Special Session on
Children, we have often found racism and discrimination among the biggest obstacles to
overcome.
And in our peacekeeping and peace-building work, we often
find ourselves wrestling -- again and again -- with the effects of xenophobia and
intolerance.
Only if we tackle these evils at source can we hope to
prevent conflicts before they break out. And that means taking firm action to root them
out in every society for, alas, no society is immune.
Last year, the leaders of our Member States resolved, in
their Millennium Declaration, "to take measures to ensure respect for and protection
of the human rights of migrants, migrant workers and their families, to eliminate the
increasing acts of racism and xenophobia in many societies, and to promote greater harmony
and tolerance in all societies".
With those words, Mr. President, they gave this conference
its true agenda. We must not leave this city without agreeing on practical measures which
all States should take to fulfil that pledge. It must be reflected in our budgets and
development plans, in our laws and institutions -- and, above all, in our school
curricula.
Let us remember that no one is born a racist. Children
learn racism as they grow up, from the society around them -- and too often the
stereotypes are reinforced, deliberately or inadvertently, by the mass media. We must not
sacrifice freedom of the press, but we must actively refute pseudo-scientific arguments,
and oppose negative images with positive ones -- teaching our children and our fellow
citizens not to fear diversity, but to cherish it.
This conference has been exceptionally difficult to
prepare, because the issues are not ones where consensus is easily found.
Yes, we can all agree to condemn racism. But that very fact
makes the accusation of racism, against any particular individual or group, particularly
hurtful. It is hurtful to one's pride, because few of us see ourselves as racists. And it
arouses fear, because once a group is accused of racism it becomes a potential target for
retaliation, perhaps for persecution in its turn.
Nowhere is that truer today than in the Middle East. The
Jewish people have been victims of anti-Semitism in many parts of the world, and in Europe
they were the target of the Holocaust -- the ultimate abomination. This fact must never be
forgotten, or diminished. It is understandable, therefore, that many Jews deeply resent
any accusation of racism directed against the State of Israel -- and all the more so when
it coincides with indiscriminate and totally unacceptable attacks on innocent civilians.
Yet we cannot expect Palestinians to accept this as a
reason why the wrongs done to them -- displacement, occupation, blockade, and now
extra-judicial killings -- should be ignored, whatever label one uses to describe them.
But, my friends, mutual accusations are not the purpose of
this conference. Our main objective must be to improve the lot of the victims.
Let us admit that all countries have issues of racism and
discrimination to address. Rather than pick on any one country or region, let us aim to
leave here with a commitment from every country to draw up and implement its own national
plan to combat racism, in accordance with general principles that we will have agreed.
For weeks and months our representatives have laboured to
reach agreement on those principles. And they have made great progress. Large parts of the
Declaration and Programme of Action have been agreed, including texts on such difficult
issues as indigenous peoples, migrants, refugees and "people of African
descent".
Friends, this conference is a test of our international
community -- of its will to unite on a topic of central importance in people's lives. Let
us not fail this test. The build-up to this conference has prompted an extraordinary
mobilization of civil society in many different countries. It has raised expectations
which we must not disappoint.
If we leave here without agreement we shall give comfort to
the worst elements in every society. But if, after all the difficulties, we can leave with
a call to action supported by all, we shall send a signal of hope to brave people
struggling against racism all over the world.
Let us rise above our disagreements. The wrangling has gone
on for too long. Let us echo the slogan that resounded throughout this country during the
elections of 1994, at the end of the long struggle against apartheid: SEKUNJALO. The time
has come.
|