|
Call It Slavery
by
John R. Miller
Untitled Document
“So you’re going to run the State Department’s trafficking office!” a friend exclaimed
when he heard the news. “What qualifications do you have to run a
motor pool?” That was back in 2002, and despite a history of
involvement in human rights issues as a congressman from the state of
Washington, I was almost as much in the dark about human trafficking as my
friend. Like most Americans, I assumed that slavery had ended in the 19th
century. As I was to learn during the next four years, slavery may be
illegal, but it still flourishes around the world, even in the United
States. Despite the phenomenal increase in worldwide humanitarian concern,
it remains one of the most curiously neglected issues of our time.
During my years as director of the U.S. State
Department’s Office to Monitor and Combat Trafficking in Persons, and
later as ambassador at large on modern slavery, I met with many survivors
of slavery: sex slaves; farm, factory, and domestic servitude
slaves; child soldier slaves; even children enslaved as camel jockeys in
the Persian Gulf states.
In an Amsterdam hospital I encountered Katya, who
recalled how, as a Czech teenager with a disintegrating marriage and a
two-year-old daughter, she was told by a “friend of
the family” that she could make good money waiting on tables in
Amsterdam. A Czech trafficker drove Katya and four other girls to the
Netherlands, where he linked up with a Dutch counterpart. After they took
the girls’ passports for “safekeeping,” the men drove
Katya to a brothel in Amsterdam’s red-light district. When Katya said
that she had come to work in a restaurant, she was told that she owed the
traffickers thousands of euros for transporting her across Europe. When
Katya continued to resist, she was told she must do the men’s bidding
if she hoped to see her daughter alive. She was freed only after several
years, through the efforts of a friendly taxi driver who enlisted a gang to
intimidate her captors.
In Bangkok, I met a teenager named Lord at a Catholic
shelter. She told me that her parents in the hills of Laos had sold her at
the age of 11 to a woman who promised to educate her. She was then resold
to a Bangkok embroidery factory, where she was forced to sew 14 hours a day
without pay. When Lord protested the first time, she was beaten; the second
time, she was shot in the face with a BB gun. She was locked in a closet;
her captors poured industrial chemicals on her face. Bars across windows
and doors kept Lord and other girls from leaving. They were finally rescued
in a government raid.
In Uganda I talked with Nancy, who had been abducted
at gunpoint along with her sister from their family’s garden by the
Lord’s Resistance Army, then forced to march to a remote camp where
she was trained to kill. (I did not have the heart to ask if she had been
forced to kill relatives and friends, a common practice.) Nancy tried to
escape, was caught and beaten, then was turned over to a rebel commander to
serve as his concubine. Nancy escaped only when her jaw was shot off in a
clash with government soldiers and she was left behind to die.
In the United States I met with Susan, an
African-American woman in her twenties who had been terrorized since her
teens by her Minneapolis pimp. He exerted such control over her that she
didn’t know how to buy groceries, take a bus, or interact with people
outside “the business.”
It is not a coincidence that the vast majority of the
former slaves I met were women and girls. Sex and domestic
servitude slaves are the largest discrete categories in human
trafficking across international borders. As many as 80 percent of all
slaves are women or girls, making human trafficking, as
antislavery activist Michael Horowitz calls it, “the great
immediate women’s issue of our time.” Not surprisingly,
feminists, along with faith-based groups, have become the biggest
advocates of abolition.
Because slavery is universally
illegal—though it was banned in Saudi Arabia only in 1962
and in Mauritania in 1981—its existence is subterranean. There are no
reliable estimates of the number of people held in bondage. The U.S. State
Department and the International Labor Organization put the figure in the
millions. The State Department estimates that as many as 17,500 slaves are
brought into the United States every year, from many different countries,
and it is likely that trafficking within the United States involves several
times as many people. As is the case elsewhere in the world, most American
slaves toil in brothels, massage parlors, and other sex businesses, or as
domestic servants. A large proportion of those who come from abroad arrive
by perfectly legal means, often in the company of “handlers”
who help them obtain tourist or business visas.
As I grappled with the
enormity of the crimes I encountered and the near silence that
surrounded them, I turned to history for insight, and especially to the
example of William
Wilberforce (1759–1833), the great British reformer who led the
20-year campaign in Parliament to abolish the slave trade in the British
Atlantic. In 1807,
Parliament officially outlawed the horrible trade that every year saw
thousands of human beings carried off from Africa to sugar plantations in the West Indies and to
other British outposts in the Americas. Even so, slavery was not abolished
in the British Empire until 1833, the year of Wilberforce’s death.
In modern parlance, Wilberforce was a
“values” politician. He was an evangelical Christian who
confronted centuries of institutional support for slavery, even within
organized religion. Evangelicals and their Quaker allies took on the task
of making Britain see that the long-accepted and rarely questioned
institution of slavery was an abomination. Wilberforce had more than moral
force at his command; he was a masterful strategist and orator. Edmund
Burke compared him to Demosthenes. Even James Boswell, who maliciously
described the stooped, five foot one British parliamentarian as a
“dwarf,” expressed amazement after watching him deliver a
speech: “I saw what seemed a mere shrimp mount upon the table; but as
I listened, he grew, and grew, until the shrimp became a whale.”
For today’s antislavery activists, I
realized, much of the task is the same as it was in Wilberforce’s
time: to awaken others to an abomination that most people barely recognize.
It is a measure of the challenge that remains that activists still need to
persuade human rights organizations and other groups to pay attention to
slavery. Freedom House, for example, does not weigh slavery in Freedom in the World, its
respected country-by-country annual survey of human rights
around the world. One reason is that victims of slavery tend to be
isolated, relatively poor, and badly educated. They don’t hold press
conferences. But people deprived of their political and religious rights
are often educated and articulate. If they can’t speak for
themselves, they have spokespersons who can.
Clarity about what is going on before our eyes,
I discovered, can be a potent weapon. On a visit to Japan in 2004, I
held a press conference to highlight the peculiar fact that Tokyo had
issued 85,000 visas to female “entertainers” from the
Philippines in 2003. The Japanese government quickly responded, and by
2006 the number of visas was down to 5,700. Not all governments are as
sensitive to American opinion as Japan’s, but the State
Department’s annual Trafficking in
Persons Report, which rates the efforts of 170
countries to suppress slavery, has been a useful attention getter
on many occasions.
In Wilberforce’s day, slavery was shrouded in
euphemism by its defenders: “field hand,”
“laborer,” and “houseboy.” Today, the news media
and academics unthinkingly use words—“forced laborer,”
“child soldier,” and “sex worker”—that have
their own anesthetic effect, and along with others I have insisted on
calling slavery by its right name. I have never understood why we
constantly use the bloodless, bureaucratic term “human
trafficking.”
Today’s slaves are
not dragged off in chains, but they are just as effectively deprived of
their freedom by force or threats. They are bought, sold, and leased. For
years during the Bosnian civil war a sex slave auction operated in
Belgrade, and many auction sites thinly disguised as sex tourism sites have
functioned on the Web. Slaves may receive some pay for their work, but
their wages amount to no more than the subsistence provided to people in
bondage in the past. Because it is illegal, the trade is dominated by
organized crime. It takes a network of workers to persuade a woman like
Katya to leave her home country, to sell and transport her, and to keep her
terrorized for years. Some law enforcement officials believe that the trade
in humans is the third-largest source of profits for organized crime, after
drugs and arms.
Unlike the slaves of yesterday, those of today are not
captured in raids or warfare, but usually are either deceived into or in
some cases willingly enter into slave status, then find themselves trapped.
Yet, as in the past, the slave trade is defined by greed, sexual
exploitation, beatings, and rape. Race is still a factor. In Mauritania,
lighter-skinned descendants of Arab invaders sometimes ensnare
darker-skinned Africans in slavery as shepherds or domestics. In India, the
survivors of sex and agricultural slavery I met tended to be darker-skinned
members of lower castes.
In most countries, what distinguishes the victims is
not their color but their foreignness or otherness. Most of the survivors I
talked to were attracted by the promise of a job in a distant land. Once
there, they found themselves in unfamiliar surroundings and unable to
escape. It is difficult to flee when you know neither the local language
nor the geography, and when you have no friends or family outside your
small world to turn to for help. I rarely met survivors who had been
enslaved in their own community. Moldovan women are enslaved in Dutch
brothels, Indonesian men on Malaysian construction sites, and Filipinas in
Saudi Arabian homes.
Poverty often propels people into slavery, causing
families, for example, to sell their children. But the equation is not
always simple. In Indonesia, Save the Children found that some impoverished
villages produced many slavery victims while similar villages nearby
produced very few. A study in Nigeria showed that the villages that sent
the most victims to Italy were not the poorest ones but those where
television was available. As that study suggests, visions of opportunity
drive many victims into the hands of modern slave traders, and often these
slaves are people with some resources of their own. An Indonesian woman
named Nour whom I met in Saudi Arabia paid a recruiting agency thousands of
dollars to obtain work as a maid in Saudi Arabia, where she hoped to earn
far greater sums to send home. But her masters confined Nour to a house,
and beat her until gangrene forced the amputation of several fingers and
toes.
As Wilberforce saw, well-intentioned
reformers rob the abolitionist cause of some of its power by seeking to
improve the conditions of slavery rather than end the institution itself.
In the 18th century, the high-minded Dutch boasted of having the
cleanest slave ships. Today’s reformers call for better ventilation
in factories for coerced workers and condoms and health inspections for
those who may be enslaved in prostitution. The 21st-century Dutch
are leading exponents of the idea that legalizing and regulating
prostitution can reduce sex slavery. But as they have discovered, it is
hard to promote a legalized sex trade, with its inevitable links to
organized crime, without becoming a magnet for slave traders, and city
officials in Amsterdam are now working to shrink the city’s famous
red-light district. Germany, which has also embraced legalization, has
almost 10 times the number of people engaged in prostitution as neighboring
France, and, correspondingly, more trafficking victims.
There is no dearth of multinational agreements
designed to address trafficking, including the United Nations’
Protocol to Prevent, Suppress, and Punish Trafficking in Persons,
Especially Women and Children (2003). But in all my travels, I never
encountered a government that attributed a specific action to an
international covenant. Indeed, some of the governments with the worst
reputations for non-enforcement, such as Mexico and Equatorial
Guinea, were among the first to ratify the UN protocol. The UN’s own
moral authority in this area has been compromised by the fact, documented
in a 2004 report to the organization by Prince Zeid Ra’ad
al-Hussein of Jordan, that UN peacekeeping troops in the
Democratic Republic of the Congo and other countries have been guilty of rape and of
using food and money to entice children into sex.
There is no substitute for solid national laws and
vigorous enforcement, and obtaining both requires moral suasion from abroad
and, most of all, constant effort by nongovernmental organizations in each
country. Prosecutors convicted more than 3,000 slave owners and traders
around the world in 2007, up from just hundreds seven years ago. But far
too many countries still treat slave trading lightly. In Germany and other
European nations, convicted traffickers often get only suspended sentences
or probation. Near Chennai, India, I met members of three generations of a
lower-caste family—a boy, his father, and his grandfather—who had been freed by the government after many
years of servitude as bonded laborers, working to pay off a debt to a local
businessman who ensured that the debt grew ever larger. (With their
millions of victims, India and Pakistan are the great exceptions to the
rule that most modern slaves travel across national borders.) Just when I
was feeling pleased with the provincial government’s efforts, the
father pointed to the rice mill where they had toiled. It was still
operating, and the owner had not been punished—he was
bringing in more slaves to replace those who had been released.
A situation in which the educational stakes are higher
is difficult to imagine. Preventive education is vital, especially in
alerting potential victims to the risks they face in traveling abroad in
pursuit of opportunity. Efforts on the demand side can also be effective.
In San Francisco, a mandatory “john school” for men caught
soliciting prostitutes that showed them the link between the sex industry
and slavery and other ills produced a dramatic drop in recidivism rates;
the program has been replicated in other cities. A final imperative is to
rescue and protect victims. Most countries summarily deport rescued slaves,
but the burden of shame often prevents them from returning to their home
villages. Toward the end of my tour as ambassador I saw more shelters being
opened, but much more assistance is needed to help these traumatized and
poorly educated people make new lives.
When Britain turned
against slavery, it threw its military power against human traffickers.
After Parliament passed the Slave Trade Act in 1807, Wilberforce and others
prodded the British Admiralty into using part of the British navy to seize
slave ships traveling to the Americas, regardless of which country’s
flag they flew. Britain sacrificed the lives of 600 sailors, but it
liberated hundreds of thousands of slaves on the high seas.
There is no military solution for modern slavery. But
the United States can continue to campaign for clarity, for action, and for
abolition. Our own record bears blemishes and deep stains—both
historic and modern—but we have probably done more than almost any
other country to eradicate this scourge at home and abroad. Even before the
Slave Trade Act, critics argued that Britain had no right to impose its
moral values on the world. Wilberforce rightly replied that freedom is a
universal value. And when critics insisted that Britain should not act
unilaterally—it tried without success to enlist other
European nations—his friend and ally, Prime Minister
William Pitt, responded, “This miserable argument, if persevered in,
would be an eternal bar to the annihilation of evil. How is it ever to be
eradicated if every nation is thus prudentially to wait until the
concurrence of all the world should be obtained?”
Thus, more than 200 years ago in facing
Britain’s own moral quandary, Pitt and Wilberforce posed the
abolitionist challenge to all nations in all times. Today we need hundreds
of Wilberforces in more than a hundred countries to finish the abolitionist
revolution.

Printer
Friendly |
John R. Miller, a public policy scholar at the Wilson Center, was the U.S. ambassador at large on modern day slavery (2004–06) and, as a U.S. representative in Congress from the state of Washington (1985–93), was a member of the Congressional Human Rights Caucus. He is a fellow of the Women and Public Policy Program at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard and a senior fellow of the Discovery Institute in Seattle.
Reprinted from Summer
2008 Wilson Quarterly
This article may not be resold, reprinted,
or redistributed for compensation of any kind without prior written
permission from the author. For further reprint information, please
contact Permissions, The Wilson Quarterly, One Woodrow Wilson
Plaza, 1300 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington, D.C.
Phone:202/691-4200
E-mail:wq@wilsoncenter.org
|