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Bearing
bad news
By Amanda Williamson
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painstaking search for Bosnia's missing is now uncovering the
truth. For the families it ends an agonising wait. They can
mourn, some day accept it, and start the healing process. But
reality is crippling, and those who bring the news share the
psychological burden, tested to their professional and emotional
limits. |
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In Bosnia and Herzegovina, the Red Cross emblem is taking
on a new connotation. For the families of the missing, the
sight of it on their doorstep can mean news, the thing they
want and dread most in life.
Slowly, the tracing process is finding answers for the families
of more than 18,000 people reported missing on all sides of
the Bosnian conflict. And, as it yields results, ICRC delegates
are dealing with one of the most difficult tasks they can
face – telling a mother, wife, or daughter that a man
she loves is dead. It is a moment charged with emotions as
families confront the horror of the reality of death, and
the destruction of the hope which has sustained them for months.
ICRC stress management consult-ant, Barthold Bierens de Haan,
describes a scene he says is typical of those now confronting
delegates daily. The location is Tuzla, where many families
of the missing are living, many of them from Srebrenica. A
young woman who is searching for her husband is visited, and,
as a delegate prepares her, explaining the tracing mechanisms,
her face gradually falls. She balls up her fist and her breathing
becomes more rapid.
The ICRC is now sure, she is told, and she suddenly turns
pale. The tragic news of her husband’s death is then
given, and the circumstances in which it occurred. She bursts
into tears and buries her face in her skirt. Her mother-in-law,
sitting on the ground at the delegate’s feet, so dignified
before, rocks back and forth moaning. Soon all the women in
the room are weeping.
“The shock and grief may come out in more violent and
demonstrative ways,” says Bierens de Haan. “Some
people scream or moan, others choke or faint, others still
run from the room.”
The psychiatrist is now convinced that the work, although
extremely difficult, is an important step in helping families
begin the mourning process. The release of emotions can last
many months before a kind of acceptance is reached. |
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Nothing
more humanitarian
In Tuzla, the enormity of the responsibility so concerned
sub-delegation head Florent Cornaz that he called in Geneva
experts to help him find ways to ensure the work was approached
as professionally as possible, and that his staff were protected
from potential psychological consequences. “There is
nothing more humanitarian,” he says, “than having
to sit face to face with another human being, and deliver
news of this enormity. It demands that we are at our most
professional.”
Since the Dayton Agreement, which entrusted the ICRC with
the issue, just over 18,000 have been registered by their
families as missing in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Finding out
what happened to them is principally down to a working group,
set up and chaired by the ICRC, in which all three parties
from the Bosnian conflict are supposedly compelled by Dayton
– and international humanitarian law – to disclose
any information they have about people killed by their side.
So far, answers have been slow in coming. There are other
sources. Individuals have responded to a worldwide ICRC campaign
urging those who have information to come forward. At the
time of writing, the fate of 1,000 men had been discovered.
Only a handful were confirmed as still alive.
Any answers are double-checked against in-formation given
by the families themselves be-fore a formal letter is drafted
and delivered by delegates. The letter is essential: it may
become an important document for social and legal benefits.
It does not, of course, address the problem which the revelation
brings – the right of the families to have the body
returned, a question currently being tackled by the international
community. |
Psychological
burden
The process exposes delegates to the full impact of human
suffering, stripping away the protective shield that comes
of avoiding emotional involvement. Here, the very essence
of the work is compassion – delegates must forge a human
connection, spend time, listen, even hug or hold hands. It
exposes them to the necessary emotional and psychological
burden which the sub-delegation in Tuzla has been at pains
to tackle.
At the outset, a seminar was organised with leading psychiatrists,
where expatriates were taught about mourning customs, and
encouraged to explore their own feelings. In the wake of the
first, sometimes shocking, experiences, the help of qualified
local nurses was enlisted to deal with extreme reactions.
Teams now work in rotation, to avoid emotional burn-out,
local staff are compelled to take time off in between, and
expatriates are recruited from other offices. To limit possible
damage, regular debriefings are held in which delegates share
experiences. It means that new, effective ways can be found
to deal with the unpredictable. As Florent Cornaz says, “You
learn as you go along. You cannot write a guide book for something
like this.” |
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Crippling reality
Despite the preparation, despite ending an agonising limbo,
the news that a loved one is dead presents families with
a crippling reality in which the ICRC and the international
community can offer little comfort. Some women refuse to
believe the news – their hope extinguishes rationale
– and they find comfort in powerful rumours that their
men are hidden in secret prisons. For all the ICRC’s
constant work in following up these allegations, and finding
nothing, the rumours keep hope alive, for the alternative
is almost unbearable.
“Think of the women of Srebrenica,” says Cornaz.
“They lost all touch with time, obsessed as they became
with what happened in July 1995. The news forces the clock
to start again. They have to confront a future without their
menfolk, to accept an unwanted emancipation. They have to
think about their lives as displaced people relying completely
on outside help for survival, and of confronting their children
who ask: ‘When is daddy coming home?’”
“For others it isn’t only the circumstances
of losing a relative that they have to deal with, but the
whole horror of what happened to them during the war. Some
lost their homes four or five times, lived under siege in
terrible
conditions, and went through many traumatising events. They
are so vulnerable, which makes it absolutely essential for
the ICRC to deal with what we do as sensitively as possible.”
It is pioneering work and the effects will not be known
for a long time. As for the impact on delegates, Bierens
de Haan says, “They will probably never be the same
people again. It is normal in some ways to be hurt by an
experience like this, but it is also a very important human
lesson.”
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Amanda Williamson
Amanda Williamson is an ICRC press officer. |
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