The Ban Bus

The Ban Bus needed to become the stealth bus for our crossing of the border from Macedonia to Greece. As there is no love lost between the two we did not need to stir the pot any more. There is nothing like a customs despot to turn you back or mess you about for no reason other than belligerence. Don’t like the Ban Cluster Bomb message? Let’s search the whole car and keep them here for many hours. My whole adult life has been travelling and I have seen every nasty border crossing known to man and had some horrible experiences on them. Depending on what is at stake influences how I behave but I do have the ability to give as good as I get if there is nothing to loose. Now there is plenty to loose so I will curb my natural hatred of these officials and avoid party tricks like proving what I had for dinner all over their desk. Get the picture?

The road out of Skopje is interesting as we have the insane GPS. “Turn left, turn right, roll over and scratch my stomach”. Everything, except good directions. Back to asking locals at every traffic light.

Rolling along towards the border was a pleasant drive and we were still in mortal combat with the GPS. Could we get it to direct us in some other direction than off a cliff? The border loomed up and we took the last stop to fill up on cheaper fuel. With all of the signage off the Ban Bus we were back to being a VW Transporter. Both the Macedonian exit and Greek entrance were no trouble and we still had a few more miles to the coast. Natasha had told us about the coastal holiday towns that all but close up after the summer tourist season. Any hotel open now would be very cheap and that was the magic word for us, cheap.

The little town of Katarini was found, by maps and signs, despite the GPS yelling and screaming that we must go back, turn around, panic, there be monsters here. This place was a strip of sand with hotels and bars sprawled along the shore. I walked to the end of the street and felt like I was in the Gunfight at the OK Corral. All it needed was a tumble weed to complete the scene. Nothing, not a soul. Splitting up in different directions we went in search of a place to stay. Lots of hotel signs here but every door was locked till next summer.

I finally found a bar that was open and asked in there. The young guy running the place started to ring around but also couldn’t raise anyone. He did give me a few phone numbers though so I kept walking. Farther along I found another bar open and asked there. The very pretty girl smiled sweetly and ran away. I didn’t think I looked that rough! Another girl appeared and she spoke great English and yes she had rooms and only 30 euro a night. We were in.

We met in the bar at sunset and began to plan what was to come the following days in Athens. The most important event was a lunch being organised by the Norwegian Ambassador here. He was going to pull as many strings as possible to get a good representation from the Greek government for it. Not much more was known than it was on, so our attention turned to basic logistics and beer. The pretty girl came over and brought back four beers. She understood four beers ok. I noticed her fly was undone and said so. She smiled sweetly again, said thank you, and went away. When she came back for a second round or drinks her fly was still undone, I said so again, she said thank you again and went away. I didn’t want to start pointing at her crotch so left it at that.

A little restaurant was open and we ordered seafood. Nice and local and the guy serving had spent time in Melbourne. As Melbourne has a huge Greek population we seemed to be always finding an international connection here. When we tried leaving, two old guys asked us to join them for a drink. Con and John were cousins and Con had migrated to Melbourne in 1972. He was back for his annual pilgrimage and family catch up. They got a few Ouzos into us till we managed to get away as the morning would be the drive to Athens and the wonders of peak hour traffic there.

The morning was perfect and we got a walk in along the deserted beach. The Ban Bus was again getting covered in signs, this time in Greek. We were not confident of our Greek translations or even of which way up some of the signs should be but we bumbled on and hoped that we would make no offence with our efforts. I certainly didn’t want “Ban Cluster Bombs Now” to become “Buy Cluster Bombs Now” or something as messed up as that.

It took longer to get on the road than planned and we would probably end up driving into Athens during afternoon peak hour traffic. The miles rolled on by and we all worked on our various projects. Mette was doing the accounts, Daniel was cutting a film edit, Davor was driving and I was writing.

Its tough farming here but the one crop that does well are olives. Ancient olive groves sprawl up the hillsides in that shade of dusty green. To me this is the same scene as in Southern Lebanon. That was the location of the fighting between Hezbollah and Israel in 2006 and now those olives are filled with the deadly crop of cluster bombs. Greece has cluster bombs and claims that all of their military objectives are defensive. If that is so then the only possible Greek use of cluster bombs will be on their own soil. One firing of cluster bombs into farm land like this will create a home grown tragedy that will take years to clear. The reality is that there would never be one firing but barrage after barrage of them would be used, guaranteeing that Greece would be trashed forever. They may as well draw a new international border now and just give that part of their country away as it will be good for no Greek in the future if a war is fought this way.

The traffic intensifies as we move farther south. Athens is ahead and it’s past 4 pm. The freeway grinds to a paralysed halt. We did get a street map of Athens at the last fuel stop so at least we are not driving totally blind but have no real idea where we are heading because the one way systems and small roads aren’t marked on our map. Davor keeps hanging out the window trying to get directions from anyone he can. Nothing like realising that you need to exit now and the exit is four lanes away. The Ban Bus will be etched in many an Athenians mind as the van that cut everyone off to a symphony of horns. At least they got the chance to read the signs!

The Marina Hotel is a nice little place near Omonia Station. This is very central in Athens so will make getting around for us quite easy. Like all big cities, accommodation costs a fortune. Athens is no different. If you do manage to find a cheap hotel there is always a catch as to why it is cheap. Normally it’s due to being in either the Red Light district or junkie land. We scored junkie land. All quiet enough on the surface but as the sun tipped over the horizon the streets around us became a mecca for open street dealing and shooting up. Used needles were all over and junkies laid sprawled out in the gutters in their own vomit and piss. It’s very sad to see so many people in such a mess. There was the odd paramedic about and drug social worker but there was a notable absence of police. Apparently there is a pick up and drop off policy here that gets the junkies out of the expensive parts of town and dumps them in a few central locations like here. Not sure if that is true but there are certainly lots here.

One woman was romancing a pole while a guys head made a sickening thud as he collapsed with a needle in his arm while paramedics were working on another overdose case in his own pool of vomit. Junkies are not dangerous people, they are just sad people who have fallen through the cracks of society. The biggest danger here was stepping on a used needle so its not the place to wear sandals.

Lots on tomorrow so after checking in it was a data projector I was after. Unfortunately I was going to have to buy one as the one we had before was too expensive to get over here. It was an expense that annoyed me as we had one in Ireland in May. That projector finally made it to London but the only way to get it here in time was to hand carry.

I found an AV store that was open late and soon had cut a deal with them to get an ex display model cheaply. The lunch at the Ambassador’s house was very important and we needed to make a strong impact.

There is a secret on the streets of Athens and that is the many packs of roaming dogs. Athens has a unique policy for stray dogs, they like them and its illegal to kill one. It seems in Athens all creatures great and small get to live out a natural life. The dogs have a bit of natural selection going on too, as the dumb ones find their way under cars fairly quickly and the clever ones don’t. Dumb ones are normally aggressive and emotional, easy to get distracted by rolling wheels and other such objects of unimportance. Now the clever ones take the world in their stride and don’t sweat the little things.

If the city council finds a new dog on the streets it’s taken, neutered, vaccinated then let go again to pursue whatever dogs pursue that does not involve chasing cars or sex. They get a special council collar that tells of their health status. In winter the council even makes sure there is dog food around town and water. Dogs are just part of life in Athens. They can be found sleeping anywhere from historical monuments to doorways. They wait at traffic lights and cross when safe. Pet dogs on leashes see them and go nuts and they ignore them. I love the fact that the Athens council looked at what could be a ‘dog problem’ and turned it into another piece of the character of the city.

We took a taxi to the Norwegian Ambassador’s residence on Lycabettus Hill with plenty of time to set up the projector and my computer. Lycabettus Hill is the highest point in Athens and the residence was on top of a block of apartments and gave the most beautiful view around the city. Now I had my bearing. The other imposing spot was the Acropolis with the Parthenon perched across its summit. It really is impressive.

The Ambassador had invited members of a few NGO’s as well as representatives from the Departments of Defence, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and a Member of Parliament. This was the perfect forum to have a candid discussion about Greece’s reluctance to sign the cluster bomb treaty. Some pleasant chit chat was had on the roof admiring the view till lunch was served in the dining room. The Ambassador welcomed us and I responded with a little scene setting about the realities of cluster bombs. I had the projector set up shooting onto the wall and a montage of 200 images rolled over as I spoke about the field reality. The room was quiet as I told one story after the next hitting all the aspects from legacy to danger and poverty, to duration and history of the problem. All were silent and the MP was visibly shocked. I finished the photo show and suggested we eat. Some appetites were obviously now not there.

The representative from Foreign Affairs was very open and honest and explained the national line and agenda in relation to cluster bombs. He is just doing his job and has no latitude to waiver from the official line. The conversation then became more lively as it turned into more of a debate. He pushes the line that Greece would only use them in self defence and I say if you defend yourself with these you will destroy your own country. The MP sat and listened to the arguments ebb and flow till the lunch finished.

“Thank you for coming” she said, “I have learned much today and so much more needs to be done. I will take this to my parliamentary committee and I want you to come back to Greece and make a presentation to them. I think no one really knows much about this in Greece and we need to learn much more”.

Mette abandons us as she leaps on the back of a scooter with the guy from Amnesty and disappears. He will drop her at the printers to get flyers made for our public action tomorrow. Daniel and me walk outside after thanking our host’s and realise we have again no real idea where we are. We head towards the Acropolis. All roads seem to head there so it’s as good a destination as any.

The best part of our lunch was opening good dialogue with the Greeks. Seeds have now been planted and the doors are open for more discussion and I feel a good ally was created in the MP. The other great thing was the lunch itself. Magnificent!!

We had some media contacts and rang them to set up interviews and also checked the logistics for the next day. We had permission to have the Ban Bus outside a main metro station so we could get to many Greeks to address the problem of cluster bombs.

Athens at night is quite beautiful and the Acropolis is always dominant above us, all glowing and floodlit. We left our resident junkies behind and walked the streets around Plaka looking for a restaurant. Athens lives on the streets and there is no shortage of nice outdoor places to eat at. The day is digested and more plans hatched for the future.

Mette went with Davor early to Megaro Moussikis station early to get the van in position then went to pick up her printing. Daniel and I worked on more media then headed to the van. Another perfect sunny day in Athens but the wind was up and this would make getting our photo exhibition up difficult. We had printed 26 of my photos from around the world to use as a street exhibition. They are certainly eye catching, but a little hard to appreciate if they sailing by you at 75 kilometres an hour. We pick the windy side of the Ban Bus and place them there hoping the wind will keep them pinned to the van. It works and Mette arrives with the printing. We have flyers in Greek and start handing them out to anyone who comes or goes from the metro station.

Once people see the pictures they falter and take what we give them instantly. Many now start to ask what is going on and if they can sign a petition. We are in business and will be flat out for the rest of the day.

We have some local volunteers from Amnesty and they take to the flyer passing and petition signing. Most people are shocked by what we have to tell them and wonder why this isn’t an easy thing for Greece to sign on day one. The message is getting out. Not all are convinced though and some make a show of putting the flyer in the bin, ‘till one old lady goes nuts. She starts ranting how much she hates Turks and that there are not enough bombs for them. She gets really heated and goes into the metro. A few minutes later she is back and in full flight again. She has become a one woman protest against us! I wonder if she has a permit for her protest? I find her mildly amusing as she carries on. More people avoid her and take the information from us. That just fires her up more. She finally stomps off with an unhealthy level of blood pressure to look for a new audience for her tirade.

Dimitri and Sioux from Amnesty are really working the streets with us, as are a strong rotation of volunteers. The Norwegian Ambassador turns up with a few other embassy staff, slips on the T-shirt and work the streets as well. These people are great and it really is a case of different peoples coming together for a single goal.

A few years ago I photographed a project on ten years of peace in Bosnia. I took a lot of my photos from the end of the war then returned in 2005 to find the same locations and people. This became a perfect report card on how the place was progressing. I always thought of it as good, bad, happy and sad. The exhibition toured here in 2006 and made quite an impact. Many remembered it and a little collaboration from the Norwegian, Canadian and Australian embassies had pulled it all together. Cristina from the Norwegian embassy had been the point with help from the others. Zoe from the Canadian embassy now arrived and that little core of people might be able to do something again in the future on cluster bombs. The Bosnia project was exhibited in the Syntagma metro station. This is the main central station in Athens and would have been seen by literally millions of people. It was a perfect way to take the message to the masses. Already I am wondering if we can do it again with cluster bombs.

A TV crew arrived and shot a story then a few print journalists came, interviewed and went. The day had been a total success. As we began to pack up at 4 we had a call from a TV journalist called Filios Stangos. He was in Georgia when the fighting started and was nearly killed by the Russian cluster attack on Gori. A Dutch journalist was killed 5 metres from him and his driver was critically wounded. He wanted us to stay and wait for him as he wanted to meet. When he arrived he was a man who was still deeply affected by the experience. That question of why did he survive when others didn’t was rolling through his mind. His car had over 100 shrapnel hits to it and his driver was hit in the head and he had not a scratch. I know how he is feeling when you can’t get the sounds, smells and sight of such a thing out of your head. It’s a very dark place to be. I think he wanted to talk to people who understood how he was feeling and were happy to meet with him. I just wish the politicians would really listen to a man like this as he has a very intimate experience that is repeated by everyone who survives an attack like this. Eyewitnesses have undeniable power.

The Ban Bus packed up and headed home to junkie heaven and another great Greek feed under the Acropolis. Athens is my kind of living, casual, outdoors and friendly.

More local people who would hopefully become future campaigners wanted to meet us so we arranged to catch up at the Acropolis metro station and have lunch the next day. Another journalist wanted an interview and we invited her as well. The more we can discuss the issue and connect local people the better. The Ban Bus makes a great catalyst for this. Lida and Theo were fiends of Manolis who we met yesterday. Helen was a features writer for a weekly magazine. A lively discussion began that was part interview but mostly great conversation. Ideas were springing forth from all as well as more connections for other people, organisation and universities. This is networking, good food, good wine and great conversation.

Helen was really fired up about the issue and wants to do much more in the future so another good media contact has been made. That wonderful six degrees of separation can overcome most things. Everyone knows someone who could connect us somehow to something or someone we need. Networking at its best!

One of my biggest regrets of a Ban Bus is that we race in stir up interest in the issue then run away. I’d so like to have the time to work with local campaigners more for longer periods and really consolidate the work and connections. Soon we will be in Thessaloniki then on to Istanbul. I do know I want to come back here and really spend some time in Greece and Turkey helping to build a stronger campaign. They are key countries regionally and so many of their problems and fears are linked. A joined regional campaign would be useful here.

I had an email from Jan Erik who is in Georgia and he thinks that I could get into the cluster struck areas in Georgia now without too much risk. I am very keen to do this but not sure if this is possible time wise. I’ll start checking some flights and see if I can’t dash down there for 3 or so days and shoot the area then out again.

The drive out of Nis was interesting as we were plagued by a new and totally mad GPS. “Turn right, turn left, turn around, drive straight for 4 km”. Ah, no, straight ahead is a T intersection and a big building. Davor begins searching out his “human GPS” and asks everyone we see which way to go. Far better and far more accurate. After many twists and turns and detours we finally turn onto the highway the sign points to Skopje, Macedonia. The southern part of Serbia is familiar to me as I was here last week but also from the days of the war in Kosovo. A little stroll through the hills and I would drop down into the area around Pristina. I could then make it cross country all the way to Albania. Those days are long gone so the highway in the Ban Bus is just fine now.

The miles roll away till the Serbian Macedonian border is ahead. The Serb check point is almost no problem, the border guard stamps our passports and we are about to drive away when the official spots Daniel and the video camera. “That’s a professional camera, you must pay!” Now for the first mess around as Davor does a perfect job in smoothing the waves. Lesson number one, have all gear put away at check points. We drive into no mans land and join the end of the queue of cars waiting to get into Macedonia.

No mans land has a healthy population of dogs who are well conditioned to bludging food off waiting cars. As we pull up a crowd of them gathers by us and they stare at us pleadingly to feed them. No chance from us so after a few minutes they move onto another car. Their tactics pay off as one woman gets out with a big bag of dog food and empties the lot in piles by the road. The dogs are now in fat boy heaven and chow down as fast as a dog can. The woman has a dog of her own or at least that’s what I think that white quaffed powder puff shaped dish rag was. It would have made a tiny snack for these waiting hounds or a fine shoe shine for me.

We edge forward in the queue and become fixated in getting through immigration before the fluffy mutt’s car. That thing has to be called Pooky or something similar. The immigration barriers are arrived at simultaneously as Pooky’s face is pressed hard against the front window of their car.

The Macedonian official takes our passports and looks at us and the papers. “Norway, ok. Two Australian and one Canadian? You must pay!” Apparently we needed insurance. The fact that we all have insurance means nothing and Davor yet again braves the madness of officialdom. He heads off to the window of the office and passes our papers in. How long could a quick payment take? Quite along time actually. A steady stream of smoke emits from the window as I wonder if there is a fire inside. Davor steps back to breath. There is no fire here, just the steady consumption of chain smoked cigarettes as the officials develop their individual lung cancers. The clock ticks on, and on, and on a bit more till finally Davor returns with the passports and our insurance. It cost us a whole 3 euro each except, there was a catch. In fact there is always a catch. The printer was “broken” so they couldn’t print the receipt. There was a solution to this though as our 9 euro fee becomes 3 euro for all and Davor is finally released from the tiny border despots. I’m sure those 3 euro went for another packet of cigarettes to assist in the general health of the border guards.

While waiting, our contact in Macedonia arrives in search of us. Natasha is a small dynamo of a woman who is an ex journalist. She now runs an NGO called ‘Journalists for Women and Children’s Rights and Environmental Protection’. We waiver the pleasantries for the time being and follow her on the 40 minute drive into Skopje. I haven’t been here since the Kosovo war in 1999 and only remember it as grey and dower place. That probably has nothing to do with Skopje and more to do with the work that I was doing at the time.

To get to Kosovo back then I would fly from London to Skopje often via Istanbul then drive the 20 minutes to the border and the road to Pristina. It used to feel like passing from the light into the darkness as Macedonia was left behind and I rolled into Kosovo. Scared, young KFOR soldiers then controlled the country and all was chaos. That was a life time ago but an important part to an origin of this journey. Now it only rates a cursory glance as our path lies south east.

Skopje was nothing as I remembered it. It seemed a very vivacious and sexy young city with women parading the top fashions and city life was la dolce vita. I was ready to be pleasantly surprised by this place.

Natasha is one of the most organised people I have met. Everything ran like calm clockwork. She had us in two hotels, one with safe parking for the Bus and one with high speed internet access. We check in and she gives us the brief for the next day’s activities. She is really packing it in with a public presence in the city square, a press conference and plenty of media exposure. The hook up time is 8 am and we head our different ways for the night.

The Irish are definitely the international invaders as there seems to be not a place on earth without an Irish pub. Natasha had recommended one and we head there to refill on fodder and Guinness.

Natasha was at the hotel at 8 and it was on the road for us. We were to do a day long public presence in the city square but all ‘manifestations’ were cancelled as this was the day that Macedonia was to debate changing its name. There is a huge amount of tension over what Macedonia is, or should be, called. ‘The Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia’ or ‘Northern Macedonia’ and other less favourable ones suggested by various nationalist groups. Nothing like a name change to get the heat up. The up shot of this was we still were not clear for our public event in the city square. Natasha has the first call at City Hall and she heads in to sort out the mess.

As we sit in the carpark and wait, Daniel has many helpful suggestions.
“Why not have the new country name as Dave! Then you’d know the door was always open and there would be a full fridge of beer. We could then change all neighbouring countries to Kaz, Shaz and Daz but Kaz and Shaz can’t have a joined border as they have never got on. They will need a new flag, maybe a crossed double thumbs up!!!”

There are reasons why Daniel has never entered the diplomatic service and they are all valid.

Natasha calls and says that it will be sorted out so just go and set up and she will catch up. The Ban Bus looks great all festooned with signage and even a ‘Taxi Light’ on the roof that says ‘Ban Cluster Bombs’. We pull into the square and get many strange looks as we weave our way through the pedestrians. A nice spot is found and the unpacking of photos and petitions happens and we are in business. A few volunteers are there and we start to press the flesh and hook people into sign the petition. Most are really receptive and want to be part of it but I get the odd ex Russian veteran from Afghanistan who says ‘screw you’ then the odd ex Balkan veteran who really wants these things banned. Personally I would rather talk to hostile people who have no idea and have the debate with them than someone who just signs and doesn’t think. Changing hostile ideas is really what we are about and I have no interest in being agreed with by sycophants. Having the fight in the public arena is what this is all about.

The first TV crew arrive and start filming. They are really keen to make this a feature and the journalist will delay the piece till tomorrow to get away from the competition with the country’s name change. They get all they need with film and photos and stock footage from us then its time for a press conference at the Holiday Inn.

The Norwegian Ambassador showed up and was extremely supportive and made a contribution to the coffers of the Ban Bus that so far are only two thirds full.

Money is definitely an issue for us and we are faced with the prospect of cutting back what we can do in order to get the Ban Bus to Oslo. The other option is just to go big and do it well and hope more money comes between now and December. That’s quite a gamble but the one I favour, as there is no point this being a comfortable tour through Eastern Europe. We need to make every contact and country engagement as strong as possible to have the impact we need to have. I’d rather do ten of the twenty countries well and shut the Ban Bus down when we run out of money than cruise with no impact. If fate must be our guide from here on in, so be it.

We packed up at 4 and headed to the hotel for a hard earned rest. One of the most rewarding things about such a journey is the people we meet. It’s a day full of conversation and if you like that then you would fit right into this.

Saturday is a day to catch up and get a heap of logistics sorted out. It’s also the day of the interview with TV5. We hook up with Sladjen and his wife in the bar again and this time the TV journalist is with them. A few background questions are asked and we head off for lunch then it’s to the studio. The studio is a real case of making the best out of a small space and it’s a buzz with activity. I’d given them some footage and in a very short time they had pulled together a great selection of back ground film. The interview begins and it’s obvious that this is a quality journalist who is interviewing us. The questions are intelligent and well measured and the film cuts in seamlessly. The big production players could really learn something from a small and tight operation like this.

With the interview in the bag we head out and already we are getting feedback from people who have seen it, as the coverage is all of southern Serbia and Kosovo and part of Bosnia.

The last few days in Serbia have been a great success and it’s a pity to be leaving tomorrow to Macedonia but that is what the Ban Bus is. We roll into town, meet who we can, work the media and connect people more to make a more coordinated campaign. Sladjen insists on us coming out for dinner and we head to his home first for a few more beers. Sladjen and his wife Dusica are great people and the bond of 20 years of marriage is so strong. We head to the local restaurant and fill with another Balkan feast with excellent wine. I really need to change countries and loose some weight.

Davor was outside the office and ready to go and he was shaping up to be a great new member of the Ban Bus team. It seemed he was really buying into what we were trying to do. We made it to Nis before midnight and a great old hotel was to be home for the next few days. The Ambassador Hotel was a fading star of a long gone time when the Hollywood and European film elite stayed here. The walls were covered in pictures of Franco Nero, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton along with Robert DeNiro and others. All had passed these doors in the past. They probably would recognise the hotel still, as no new paint had been applied in 30 years.

Another local friend and person injured by the NATO attack in 1999 is Dejan and he was waiting for us in the lobby in the morning. A cluster bomb detonated outside his house and he almost had his leg severed. Luckily he kept it but it will never be right again as so much muscle was torn away. He had lined up an excellent days meeting around town so it was out to the Ban Bus and into it.

Our first stop was to the school that he teaches at and a meeting with the director. This was both a courtesy call and a confirmation that he will continue to allow Dejan the time needed to work on a cluster bomb ban. He was very supportive and confirmed his personal commitment. We walked towards the Primary School which was hit by the cluster bombs and on the way saw Dejan’s house and where he was hit. Shrapnel marks still show sprayed up the wall. The director of the Primary School also pledged his support and it was onto our first political meeting at the city hall.

The city counsellor that met us in Nis is a doctor who was at the Nis hospital when the NATO strikes came. No real need to educate as the reality of cluster strikes is well known. He hates them and offers his full support for a ban. The simple message I put to him is that we agree that a ban is essential but we will need friends to make sure the national governments follow through in fast time to make this ban a reality. The Cluster Munitions Coalition needs friends and in particular, friends in government. He pledges his support, then it’s onto the Ombudsman of Nis for our next meeting. Another supporter but one that had not really stopped to think too deeply on the subject. We fill his head with detail from the international perspective back to the local angle and he learns far more than he could imagine. Importantly the local officials now realise how important the contributions from Sladjen and Dejan are on the international stage and more doors at this higher level should now be well and truly open for them. Again we need more friends and to build the network at a local government level is very important.

Both our officials today agree to keep a close eye on the treaty process and keep pressure on the Serbian government to sign and then ratify the treaty as quickly as possible.

We wander Nis looking for a local restaurant and settle down to the carnivore’s paradise again. A mix of grilled meats is matched with every manner of paprika from grilled to stuffed and I feel myself just pressing the top of my trousers a little more.

Many people here are deeply religious and Dejan is no exception. After lunch we head for his local church to meet with his priest. The church has been on this site in one form or another since the 7th century. Father Malic is an energetic young clergyman who takes his responsibility and role within the community seriously. He’s busy now as there is a wedding about to take place and he invites us in to watch.

The inside of the church is magnificently decorated with floor to ceiling murals and icons. It really is a work of art but still a work in progress. There is a public appeal to raise more money to finish the job. The wedding is about to begin and we head upstairs to watch from above. I have no idea what is happening but it looks like fun and a lot of the priests singing and chanting. Crowns of gold are placed upon the heads of the bride and groom and the ceremony seals with a kiss.

Sladjen has a great idea. Let’s hit the pub! Now that really is a great idea. His little local is in amongst many little bars in the suburbs and we settle down to a lively conversation with his friends and the publican. Many of his friends are in the media and we find ourselves amongst some TV and print journalists and a cartoonist. The cartoonist is famous internationally and he is a great satirist. His poisoned pen cuts deep into the smoke and mirrors of international life and his art really tickles my funny bone. As the beer flows the bar owner suggests that he call another friend who has the Saturday Current Affairs program.

The call is made and a string of media opportunities unfold. He asks Sladjen and me to be on tomorrow’s program and we set up the time. There is a time in everyone’s day when they are too tired and have certainly drank enough beer so its back to the Ambassador Hotel. As I close my eyes I wonder if maybe Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton slept in this room. I wonder if they had the same loose spring stuck in their arse all night too.

My jetlag has not been too bad and I only nod off a few times in the car on the drive north. Mette has moved us out of the hotel and into the apartment of a friend of a friend. It really nice to be in a home and not in a hotel. Maca and her daughter even move to her sister’s place while we are here to give us a little more space. It never ceases to amaze me the generosity of people when they get connected to people who are working on an issue like banning cluster bombs.

Our friend Daniel is to arrive in the morning, another Australian who will do much of the media management for the Ban Bus. This could be anything from writing to filming to setting up media contacts, what ever it takes. Mette has tied up so many loose ends that I feel guilty that she has done so much of this alone. The launch of the Ban Bus will be on Wednesday night and a big event is planned. We have the stage in the Republica Square and it will be an evening of speeches, clearance demonstrations, pictures, film and a local rapper called Marchelo. Much of this has been in the hands of NPA and Emil and Ivana have moved heaven and earth to make the launch memorable. A press conference is also planned but the hard part is to try and get both the press conference and the evening launch covered by the media. The normal thing would be to do an afternoon press conference then the event but this would probably mean there would be no media for the event and as the press conference is largely talking and no visuals there is a risk that it could turn into a tiny paragraph of page 56 of the paper. The decision is made to first do the event and then the press conference the following day. This will put both in the same 24 hour press cycle and hopefully both will then be picked up.

Meanwhile, Mette has all her chickens coming home to roost. A photographic exhibition of my work has arrived, then magnetic signage in many languages and finally, the Ban Bus itself. What we finally got was a VW Transporter and a driver called Davor. It made sense to have a professional driver along with us as the time on the highway is an important time to work. It will also have someone who feels more comfortable with peak hour in Istanbul. There are some crazy drivers in the world and many of them live around here, so Davor will be worth his weight in gold.

The clock is ticking and we head for the Republica Square.

When we arrived in the square we found a protest in progress in support of Radovan Karadic who has recently been arrested and now stands trial in The Hague. This might prove interesting if they take a dislike to what we are about as they are reputed to not be against a bit of biffo. We drive the Ban Bus into the square and instantly one of them approaches and complains that we are covering up their banners. A good compromise is sorted out as our event is not till 7.30 pm and they should be gone by then so no tempers are frayed. The magnetic signage is unwrapped and the van gets its transformation. The Ban Bus has been born.

The Republica Square event will have me speaking followed by Branislav and Sladjen who were both blown up while clearing cluster bombs. Branislav has lost both his arms and legs and his sight is damaged. Sladjen lost both his hands. Their bodies may be injured but their spirit is unstoppable. Rarely have I known people more motivated than these two. The Secretary General of NPA will then speak and the rapper Marchello will close out the night. A backdrop of films and photos will run through out.

Marchelo is a very talented rapper with a strong political conscience and he is very anti war. He has that wonderful mix of youth and indignation at the affairs of the world. He is studying literature at University and has the passion of a true wordsmith. When he hits the stage the crowd lights up and we realise how popular this guy is. I have no idea what his lyrics said but you could see he hit the right chords with the audience.

The event was a success and the Ban Bus was now real. All we had to do now was drive the 10,000 km from one corner of Europe to the next and bend a few more countries onto the treaty.

The press conference the next day was well attended and the panel of speakers from ICRC, Branislav and me got the message out. By the time we got back to the NPA office we were on the wire services and that evening we were the opening news story on both the number 1 and 2 networks. They both had long pieces about the issue of cluster bombs, the Ban Bus and the evening’s event. With all of this done in Belgrade it was now time to hit the road again, south to Nis and onward to the east.

The sleep of the dead lasted till five am when I decided I should be in Australia again and woke up. No problem as the Norwegian Peoples Aid survey team would arrive soon. I think the greatest breaker of jetlag is to stay up, eat and drink then get to work at full speed.

The team arrived at eight and they were the usual band of rough diamonds that I’ve spent so much of my live with. Goran, Mirko and Miroslav all had a tale to tell as anyone who has lived in the Balkans these past years does. As professionals in the world of guns and bombs they stand head and shoulders above most. What I really admire in this potentially dangerous occupation is precision calmness. Know what to do and do what you know. No fear but no risks either. Get in, get it done and get out.

Driving out of Belgrade we headed south on the road to Nis. Nis is an episode that NATO would rather forget as they bombed the town in 1999 and killed and injured many civilians. It was a monumental mess up. They bombed the hospital, a school and the market place then tried to fob it off as collateral damage. Collateral damage is when your share price falls and not when you kill and maim innocents. We went to the various locations and the question in my mind was what direction were the plans flying. This can always be seen by the strike direction. The target in the area was the airport which was quite a way away. Maybe it was on line with the airport and either an over or under shoot. That philosophy evaporated as the directions did not line up with the airport so you can only put it down to stupidity, bad planning and incompetence. That may sound hard but welcome to the military. The words military and intelligence should never be in the same sentence.

This kind of situation is quite normal in war. Poor or rushed targeting, not following instructions, scared under fire are just a few of the factors that create these monumental screw ups. What I wonder is how the pilot who dropped them feels. Can he just strike them off as an occupational hazard or does he have nightmares from being an aerial mass murderer. Is it really acceptable to do this and hold no responsibility? Despite the protection of rules of engagement and so called military law, murder is murder. The pilot is a murderer, the planners are murderers, the politicians and diplomats who condone this are murderers.

I hope the pilot who did this never sleeps again. He should come to Nis and look in the hospital at the photos on the wall from that hideous day. The car park was on fire and dead and wounded were strewn about. Doctors with stunned looks ran for the car park and were trying the impossible with nothing at all. Men bleeding on the floor and a doctor trying to stem the bleeding with compression while another looks at the camera with that look of why, a female doctor and patient in an embrace with blood streaming out of the girls thigh. Here is your collateral damage, look on and soak it up.

As I look at my own body I realise it’s all I have. One life, one set of limbs, for one time only. I am not a statistic and certainly not collateral. This is the same for us all and if the military feel otherwise then feel free to commit ritual suicide and help the rest of us to a more peaceful world. If you think I sound angry then you would be right. Try watching someone die in front of you, it’s motivating.

We went to the other sites that were bombed around town. A primary school, a market and suburban streets, an apartment block area and not one military target amongst them. Disbelief is all that crosses my mind here and I want to get out and take some air. General Wesley Clarke was the Supreme NATO Commander then. I wonder if any pang of conscience disturbs him at night.

I can’t help but feel that when something like this happens in the west it’s a massive issue, outrage and act of terrorism but here the language is softened. If you lived in Nis and were bombed as a civilian target would you not feel that this was your local September 11?

We drive out of town and head south to the border areas. This is where the games begin. The borders were a mass of military activity on both sides in 1999 and 2000 and took a hammering as a result. The problem now is that these areas have never really been cleared. Just after the bombing the army walked through this area and did as much surface clearance and demolition of any dangerous objects as they could find. That’s well and good in the short term but it’s not a full clearance, as there are those bomblets that bashed into the ground or those that were hung up in trees. These are coming to light now and the repetitious story of shepherds and kids who walk these hills and find these interesting yellow canisters are becoming too frequent. The tale as to what happened has to be pieced together from the remains of their shattered bodies as rarely are there any survivors.

We pull off the main road and head up a dirt track to an area that Goran was surveying. The newly erected red “Danger” signs with the skull and cross bones had been smashed off their pickets and pieces of them littered the ground. Just when you get an area identified as dangerous and it takes the smallest step towards being at least identified as dangerous, some moron comes along and smashes it up. Humans! What a weird breed.

A site that has had a surface clearance has no visible evidence of actual bomblets but it does have all the associated pieces that should have been taken away if a full clearance had taken place. The spider cap and container packing are all tell tale signs of possible dangerous areas. The next danger factor is the forest. As far as we can gather the only cleared areas were open farm land so the forest is a really dangerous place. Add to this ten years of fallen leaves and nothing is very obvious. The future of these places now becomes bureaucratic as need versus effect and impact are all weighed against the miniscule budgets that are available for clearance. I know this frustrates the deminers and clearance agencies who just want to fix the problem and pass the land back fully cleared and safe. One suspect site follows another till we head back to Belgrade.

I handed my tattered faceless passport over to the pretty blonde at Belgrade immigration as I entered Serbia and she scowled at the lack of anything on the cover. It’s fast turning into a dog-eared worn scrap and not the international identity pass that it should be. All printing on the cover has worn away and it bulges with many old stamps and visas. It’s the biggest passport I could get for the frequent traveller and its sixty four pages are three quarters filled in only five years.

Blondie opens the book and cracks up laughing. “You have dancing penguins in your passport?” she chuckles and shows her friend seated next to here. Together they start to paw through the pages as the atmosphere changes. “Here’s a pretty one, a polar bear and Yemen is fancy as is Afghanistan and Lebanon.”

“Yes, I do a little work in the Arctic and Antarctic and the odd war or two in between,” says me as she looks at me curiously.

“Well now I must give you my little stamp too,” she says, “sorry it is not fancy at all” as she thumps down on an empty corner in the book. We grin at each other and I am back in the Balkans.

My old black pack is doing laps of the baggage carousel and I remember that I originally got it in Bosnia as NATO issue and it’s been the best and only bag I have used for the past 12 years. Shouldering the burden I head out into the arrivals hall to look for a friendly face after three days of really nasty travelling. Bodies press in and scan the arriving passengers as recognition turns to hugs and kisses. They are then quickly whisked to waiting cars. That works for all except me as not a face in the crowd greets me. All alone, again.

The dates were confused and everyone thought I would come tomorrow. I start calling contacts and try to unravel where anyone is as I have no local numbers with me. So much for planning today. After a lap of the address book I finally get hold of Emil, my old friend and the resident representative for Norwegian Peoples Aid in the Balkans. Emil has the best solution, get a taxi to his office and we can work it out from there.

The taxi rank is the usual mix of snake charmers and assorted rip off merchants and all claim that they can’t use the fare meter as there is too much traffic etc, etc, etc. I finally cut a deal that works for both and I’m on my way. I do get a small piece of vindictive glee when we get stuck in really bad traffic and I can see the driver’s plan of making a fast buck evaporates. “Pity I’m not paying you by the meter. You would have made a fortune out of me with all this time in traffic,” says me. A grimace passes his face.

Emil is at the door of the NPA office and a coffee is waiting and of course he knows how to track Mette down. My Scandihooligan Princess has already been here for a week now, putting a lot of the ground logistics for the Ban Bus into place. All is quickly sorted and I head for a nearby hotel.

The Ban Bus is shaping up to be an epic voyage of advocacy from Serbia to Oslo. The route is going to be gruelling as we roll out of Belgrade in two days then take the gentle drive over 10,000 km.

Serbia, Macedonia, Greece, Turkey, Romania, Bulgaria, Bosnia, Croatia, Slovenia, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Slovakia, Czech Republic, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Finland, Sweden and finally, Norway. Twenty-one countries in sixty days, add a closing winter and snow and terrible roads as we head north and it will be quite a trip.

You don’t pull a Ban Bus out of your left ear. It takes a lot of planning at every level from getting money, to who will be on it, as to what is our message and how will we get it across. Then there is the problem of access to political decision makers, what it will take to get the message into the media and how do we get the general public in these counties engaged. The size and scope of this task is huge but then you don’t create an international disarmament treaty out of fresh air and think it will be an easy path to make it work. Get smart, get busy and engage on every level from man in the street to Presidents and Kings. No stone can be left unturned or angle unexplored.

One of the hardest tasks is actually to educate governments and militaries on the realities of the problem in a cluster bomb effected country. The simple thing is that the diplomats and military representatives that make the decisions have rarely ever been on the ground in an effected place and of the handful who have, were generally only on an “affected country tour”, which of course makes them instant experts. The irony here is that the experts in these issues are with the aid workers and journalists who are on the ground before, during and after conflicts along with the local people who are stuck with the permanent dangerous legacies. No fly by night visitors here, field reality is their stock in trade. So the problem then remains, how to get the reality into the minds of the decision makers. The answer from us is the Ban Bus.

Mette’s ability to work never ceases to amaze me and she is pulling all the logistics together single handed. Everything from sourcing a bus to printing, translations, designing, networking, international liaisons to our next countries have all been handled by her. Truly a one woman corporation. I am unfortunately not going to be much help to her over these coming days as Emil wants me to head south with his cluster bomb survey teams and see what we can find out about areas that might still be affected by unexploded bomblets.

Before this new journey begins there is enough time to adjourn to a local restaurant. As I have a fair dose on cannibal in me I love the Balkans as it’s a meat eater’s dream. These people love their meat and know just how to have it, tender and juicy. If you don’t like meat then get into the wine! Magnificent Cabernets can tickle your taste buds or any number of whites. Yum. We vacuum up the first bottle of red and steaks follow soups with a bit more red and by the time we brave the evening air I am really tired and fairly wobbly. Lucky the hotel was only one hundred metres away.

In the past the Australian government has had an NGO representative on the delegation. In the last round of talks in Wellington the NGO’s decided that there was a distinct conflict of interest between the two. NGO’s have since pulled off the delegation. In the weeks leading up to the conference the government went shopping around looking for a new NGO delegate. The big problem here is if you are on the delegation then you are gagged from commenting on the proceedings. This greatly compromises any effectiveness you can achieve at a conference like this. All of the NGO’s approached turned down the government’s invitation until they came to World Vision and Australian Red Cross. They both took a seat with the government and have since been locked into their world. Now they have the problem of the official gag order. They can not comment on any of the delegations discussions and basically can not be that important bridge between NGO’s and governments. This also compromises them as they can only really engage with the government and not the NGO’s as they can discuss our NGO position to government but not discuss their position to us. This is certainly a one way street.

Doors open

As the first week of the conference unfolded it emerged that the Irish government has it at heart to have as open a process as possible. The initial exclusion of many from the proceedings has relaxed a bit and NGO’s can now enter most of the meetings as long as there is a seat for them. Governments with spare seats in their delegations have also helped by offering these seats up to the NGO’s. This has created a far more transparent and inclusive process for all and has assisted greatly in the NGO efforts to lobby governments. People can listen and see who makes what statement and more importantly get a feeling of the spirit that the statement was made in and then get meetings with the delegates outside of the conference hall.

As the week unfolded and countries true positions were revealed, the work on the text continued and developed. Some of the treaty articles have been developed extremely well while others are far more problematic. Victim assistance for instance has gone very well and the Australian Ambassador Caroline Millar has done great work in negotiating strong and practical provisions into the text.

Some of the more difficult issues regard transfer across sovereign territory and again definitions and interoperability. The developing text is getting better in some areas but still weak in others.

The interoperability text is ducking and weaving in many ways but still with loopholes well imbedded in the text. The most offending language that definitely opened specific doors in the treaty for coalition use has been slightly softened but in actual content you could still drop another load of cluster bombs through it.

On balance, the various provisions are tightening up which is isolating the problem points. This is positive. As this happens, this also flags the most problematic countries even farther. They are now feeling very exposed and whatever coalitions they had are now collapsing. The ‘Like Minded Group’ is turning in to the ‘Let me out of here group’.

Lobbying and this kind of results driven process has systematically dismantled opposition to this treaty and it feels like it’s within grasp.

The real problem countries to emerge are now Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom along with a few other first world belligerent countries.

Schmooz baby

One of the wonders of this diplomatic world is the never ending array of cocktail parties. For many nights in this two week process, one organisation or another have organised receptions in the evenings. These events I hate with a passion as it seems so many of these people are so removed from the reality of what they are actually here to negotiate about. It’s all very well to negotiate but it’s making a change that counts and a change based on field realities. The cocktail circuit, as repulsive as it is, is a great opportunity to lobby farther and the real advantage is many of them get quite well lubricated so their gums flap considerably more. Nothing like a pissed diplomat for a little “loose lips sinking ships.”

We all worked the crowd and even pretended that we liked a few of them and gathered a mass of intelligence. We even succeeded in bending a few wavering government ears and came away with a few more allies.

Hot and Cold

This is supposed to be a transparent process for both the NGO community and the media. There are of course times when privacy is essential but in general we should be seeing what is going on. From the difficult start regarding access for NGO’s, we have developed into a system of accessibility that is working reasonably well. We get as many seats as we can find on top of the few allocated to us by the conference organisers. The same more fluid situation can not be said for how the press is being treated.

They are having a terrible time in being allowed to film one thing one day then that same shot is banned the next. Anyone with a video camera is the most obvious target for a security service that would be more at home bouncing in a pub than the delicacies of a diplomatic conference. When one cameraman was filming general crowd shots a woman launched herself out of the masses and lunged in front of his camera saying in an aggressive manner that he couldn’t film this. Two hours earlier what he was doing was ok. This has been the tone from the security services to all of the media and now, in the second week of the negotiation, there is a tense stand off between them. Someone tries to film something, a security person hovers nearby then they turn this way or that and all hell breaks lose again. What they seem to be too stupid to realise is that this just paints Ireland as the host country as a bunch of hicks. The only damage will be done to them at an international level when many of the media organisations run the footage of them trying to mug the cameramen. This approach has not been extended to those who take a sound recorder and hold it to one of the TVs in the hall that has the conference running on it. They are ignored.

So, it seems that if you record the sound off the TV then that is ok. If you take still photos then that is ok. If you take notes of it all then that is ok but if you point a video camera in any direction then you become public enemy number one.

Now a host of Irish media jokes are circulating the security not knowing what sound recorders are and that they would never know what a note book was for as they couldn’t read one any way. It’s tit for tat. The security pushes the media and then they just push back. The only thing is that media has the ears and eyes of the world and the security doesn’t so who do you think will win this pissing match.

Day eight

The meeting has almost run its course and the final 72 hours is ahead. Day 7 ended with a long night and the president of the conference working incredibly hard to have a final text on the table by the morning. The president of the conference is called Daithi O’Ceallaigh and he has done a stunning job to try and balance all the relevant arguments and agendas to come up with a treaty that will be strong but also acceptable. No point in a weak treaty but also no point in a treaty so strong that no one will sign onto. It’s quite a tight rope act for him.

The way this all works is that there is the mass meeting that is the Committee of the Whole or as Eva calls it, the ‘COW’. This then breaks up into various working groups that take one article each and try and create text that will be workable and acceptable. The chairs of each of these working groups then digests what is said and slowly writes what will be the wording of the final treaty article. It’s reviewed then when most seem happy, or as happy as diplomats get, it’s submitted back to the president for him to turn into the president’s text. This is the treaty.

On Tuesday night, the end of day 7, the president took all work on all articles and said he would present a final text of the proposed treaty the next day. This is the moment when you hold your breath to see if the end result is good or bad.

Each of the various chairs of the article discussion meetings listens to all views and writes a text that they feel covers the meetings views and the balance of how much support there is for one feeling or another. It’s a very difficult job. What is critical is in these meetings the balance is struck by who speaks and about what. If a few very vocal countries continue to oppose something or want something inserted then this will happen if no one speaks up in opposition. It’s not just that people need to show their opposition but that many must show it as the amount who support or oppose an idea has direct bearing on the outcome. From an NGO point of view we had to have friendly governments be prepared to weigh in on our behalf and to keep the treaty text strong.

When the president took all of this away on Tuesday night it was obvious that the morning we would be very happy or in total outrage. The text he presents in the morning can be sent back to the drawing board to be re worked but there is also a lot of pressure to push through what has happened over the negotiating period.
The night came and went and Wednesday morning was a buzz in anticipation. The rumour mill was running at full speed and the appointed hour for the text was 10 am.

The Like Minded

The Like Minded group has been a loose coalition of wealthy states who want either a weak treaty or no treaty at all. They have largely been led by the delegation from Great Britain. The British ambassador takes bombast and superciliousness to new heights and he has the tone of that snobbish upper crust that gets under my skin at first syllable. It seemed like a return to the days of Empire and colony as Australia and Canada drew close to him. I though we were a reasonably self assured nation but obviously not as we were now drawn close to Downing Street for directions.

The tone from the British was one of arrogant self assuredness that knew they could bully and badger others to fall into line behind their views. They were the most outspoken in the meetings on interoperability, definitions and transition periods. They seemed prepared to wage these fight as long as a few others would fall in line behind them to lend credibility to their arguments.

Australia, Holland, Germany, Canada, Denmark and a few others were all here to erode what was to be a great and strong treaty. Their solidarity seemed a real problem for the possibility of a strong and effective treaty emerging. On the morning of May 22 The Times in London ran a front page story that the UK was reconsidering their position on cluster bombs. Gordon Brown had ordered the military to go back and have a rethink about their continued use. This sent shock waves through the conference and the so called ‘Like Minded’ group began to collapse. With the number one ally changing position then the whole argument began to fall apart.

Panicked conversations could be overheard in the hall ways as they all rang home for further instructions. The crack between them grew and grew till it became obvious that the UK back flip would have major implications.

It seems the change of position came due to direct pressure on Gordon Brown from the voting British public. The Labour Party in Britain is at an all time low in the opinion polls and Brown is not the preferred Prime Minister. Pygmies from the Amazon basin would poll higher than him at present and the general public is more than 95% in favour of a ban on cluster bombs. At this point if he went against the will of the people then he would bang a few more nails in his political coffin. It was a staggering example of the will of the people overthrowing the agenda of a government. Who said you have no power against the big end of town?

This put the ‘Like Minded’ group into a tail spin as they called home for more directions. The wall was beginning to tumble on down. It was like watching one of those game shows where they give the contestant three choices, call a friend, ask the audience or go 50/50.

The Treaty

Amb. McKay, John and.

The pressure was on as the first two days of week two came and went and the president was about to present the text so far. I feel he sensed the turmoil and made use of it by presenting a strong draft treaty. He can’t just make it up as it’s all a consultative process but what did hit the tables at 10 am on Wednesday was 95% fantastic.

Most of the treaty was never going to be controversial but the few sections that could be bad could undermine the whole thing. They were Transition periods, Definitions and Interoperability.

There were no transition periods. You sign on 100% or you don’t, up to you. You can not decide a weapon system is bad then argue that you will need it for a few more years just in case you want to use it. This was excellent news.

The actually definition of a cluster bomb was very good and would eliminate all types that have ever been used to date. There were a few things we would have rather not been in the definitions but in all it was a broad, field based, catch all definition.

The section for those injured by cluster bombs was exceptional and rose above any existing treaty to date. This was probably the single most important treaty for victims of war ever negotiated.

This left interoperability and the really bad wording was gone but the replacement text was not 100% at all. This was our last true concern. It took away the wording that directly allowed inducement and assistance but it negated the primacy of article 1 which set out the aims. This was not good.

There was a mad dash for copies of the treaty and NGO’s and governments alike scrambled to their respective corners to paw over it with a fine tooth comb. A treaty is a large document of legal speak and every word needs to be weighed to make sure as to which has primacy over what etc. Normally this would take a few days at least but we only had a few hours. The president was going to reconvene in the afternoon.


As we huddled in our various corners dissecting the text we were amazed at how strong the draft of this treaty was. I can only describe it as brave and ambitious. One article after the next was read, reread, then approved. If this actually gets up then this treaty will make a real difference for the conduct of future wars. The definition of a cluster bomb was ok and there were to be no transition periods. Victim assistance was excellent and stockpile destruction periods realistic. Article after article was all good till we were almost at the end and there was article 21. This article is a qualifier for the issue of interoperability.

Its amazing how the subtlest word can change a document and here was the catch. Paragraph one and two were ok but paragraph three was an escape clause for coalition operations.

Article 21.
Relations with States not party to this Convention
1. Each State Party shall encourage States not party to this Convention to ratify, accept, approve or accede to this Convention, with the goal of attracting the adherence of all States to this Convention.
2. Each State Party shall notify the governments of all States not party to this Convention, referred to in paragraph 3 of this Article, of its obligations under this
Convention, shall promote the norms it establishes and shall make its best efforts to discourage States not party to this Convention from using cluster munitions.
3. Notwithstanding the provisions of Article 1 of this Convention and in accordance with international law, States Parties, their military personnel or nationals, may engage in military cooperation and operations with States not party to this Convention that might engage in activities prohibited to a State Party.
4. Nothing in paragraph 3 of this Article shall authorise a State Party: (a) To develop, produce or otherwise acquire cluster munitions; (b) To itself stockpile or transfer cluster munition

Notwithstanding. What a word. It is a loophole word and allows all of the requirements of Article 1 to be broken in regards to coalition operations. There was the escape clause for the difficult countries but to be realistic, the UK and others like them would never sign this without such a clause.

Now all were faced with the dilemma of do you agree to a text with such a clause or trash the draft text and head back to the drawing board. At this point the decision is largely in the hands of the governments. Can they wear it or not. Many do look to the NGO’s for approval but the final call is theirs.

The few hours ticked by and we talked to friendly governments about the options of accepting this wording or trashing it. Reluctantly it was decided not to throw the baby out with the bath water and accept the treaty. A strong statement must be made in opposition to Article 21 but acceptance of the over all treaty was important.

1300 hrs

Wednesday at one and the conference reconvened. The floor was open for comments and we braced for the barrage of for or against. One by one the countries who wanted to make their statements did and one by one they agreed with the draft text. It was going to pass though unopposed. We even heard that the Japanese would sign as would most of the others. The participating countries finished their statements and the meeting closed till Friday for the closing ceremony.

On Friday the room was packed and the press were allowed to film inside. Comment after comment was made and all talked of the idea of compromise. No one got 100% of what they wanted but all were prepared to accept the strength of the whole for a treaty that needed to exist.

As the governments finished their statements the floor was passed to Steve Goose on behalf of us. As usual, Steve made an accurate and astute statement that boiled the treaty down to its reality. It was good, it was acceptable and it was going to work, it was a compromise. When he came to comment on article 21 he called it ‘a stain on an otherwise perfect treaty’.

The conference adjourned and the world took a small step into a slightly safer future. History was being made.

The end came short and fast and all were struck dumb by the lack of opposition. As we filed into the halls there was a sense of anti climax for many as this was the end of the road for many who had fought for this moment for so long. When you are keyed up to fight fight fight and then your opponents says ‘ok, I agree’, it’s a shock and one that takes time to sink in. There was much back slapping and hugs and we handed out a commemorative poster to all delegates.

I sat for awhile to the side and watched diplomats exit and it was interesting to sum up the ones I had got to know over the past two weeks. Most were career diplomats who were grey people with grey personalities who take the dollars and do the bidding of their governments. Then there were the others. Those who made a real difference in this negotiation process and had eloquent interventions that brought the whole process back to the human catastrophe we were there to address. The Lebanese diplomat walked out and he was one of those as was Don McKay, the New Zealand ambassador followed then by my personal hero in this process, the Norwegian ambassador Stefan Kongstad. If it wasn’t for him pushing this forward over many years then we never would have arrived here today.

There was now just clearing up. Break down the exhibitions, get rid of the Ban Bus back to the hire company and have a bloody good blow out of a party.


We all converged on a private bar and instantly cut loose. These people are some of the most inspiring you could ever hope to meet and together we made history. Along with all the campaigners from the far flung corners of the globe were a few government people who were the good guys in our eyes. All were welcome and all were making a dint in the Guinness barrel. Out from the bar comes Earl the Canadian. We grin at each other both knowing each had fought a hard fight. “To you my friend” he says. “And you mate” as I raise my glass to him. The work and political manoeuvring was now behind us. Tonight was to be a night of dancing, partying and a huge hangover for the morning. All were to be justly fulfilled and that was the treaty in the bag.

Tragically we needed to make an early start to Dublin. It wasn’t that we had some massive hangover after the night’s festivities but that we stayed in a good hotel with a nice bad and bathroom but with a disco just the floor below.

It kicked into gear reasonably enough then gradually increased the volume till dooof dooof dooof was seeping through the floor boards at mega decibels. Mette and me could actually barely talk to each other in our room with the noise that blasted up from below. It went on and on and on and on a bit more till finally at 1 am it stopped. We were so tired. The night before was a bad nights sleep and now we were really getting trashed. When the music finally stopped I was so tired I couldn’t sleep till 4.30 am, up at 6.

We got in the Ban Bus and headed to Dublin. It would be at least a 4 hour drive there and we didn’t want to be breaking any speed records to be there by mid day. All of the campaigners were at a hotel having their final preparatory briefing and we wanted to roll into town when they finished and give them a rev up and call to arms.

A Sunday morning drive across Ireland early in the morning is quite nice thing to do. The traffic wasn’t there and the light was nice so we stopped at the odd spot for a little filming. The video is a really important product for so many reasons from supply to the media to You Tube and other communication products. Raechel has done an exceptional job in chronicling the odyssey of the Ban Bus and now will move into a broader film role for the conference. David also has been running about getting great background footage for the Dateline feature.

The miles rolled on by and I wrote as Mette drove. As we got closer to Dublin it was with mixed feelings that we felt that this chapter was closing as the next one was to open. Road trips should end at a great destination. This road trip will end at a treaty.

We circuited Dublin in a manic one way system and were called by Rae that the meeting was breaking up. As we turned the corner in Abbey Street off O’Connell we were faced with a mass of people flooded across the road. The Ban Bus had arrived. All of the campaigners from all around the world were there to greet it and it was an amazing feeling to finally park and step out to the cheering. Many faces from many corners of the globe had come and this was to be a call to arms for the weeks ahead. We climbed to the roof of the Ban Bus and gave the last talk to a crowd about unity and strength of action to make the treaty a reality. Finally we broke up and all headed in their different directions till the next days battle begins.

We headed for home and weren’t we tired. A beer or two and a night off were so needed. Mette went off to get the last of our gear out of our first apartment with Rae and Kevin and me had a talk and meal. We met another friend from the steering committee and our worst fears were starting to come true. The ugly shadow of censorship was starting to descend over the conference. The governments want it behind closed doors so they can literally get away with murder. The problem of access is again being put on the NGO’s. I concede that the facility is not huge but only a hand full of places have been allowed to the CMC. The CMC has basically instigated and driven this process and now most participants can not attend. It is the same situation for governments with the limited space but any member of a government delegation can enter and talk with other delegates. This access is denied to us so we must trawl the corridors looking for people to lobby.

The opening ceremony was short and sweet and the work of the conference got underway quickly. The NGO’s lined the corridors with a handful inside. The corridors are actually where most of the real work takes place but instead of being able to ask people out for a talk we have to patrol the halls and grab them as they come out for coffee. This makes getting hold of the right people in a timely way very difficult.

The Australians came out and we got into a conversation quickly. The temperature rose between us as we ended up in a passionate and heated discussion about their new sensor fused weapon system and the issue of interoperability. The military representative just reeled out the same old tired bombast as I’ve heard time and time again which basically culminated in a good dose of regional paranoia and desire to support America in any conflict they might enter. This doesn’t make an argument about continued use but it does show that they are not here with any intent to create a strong treaty. All that really came up was them wanting one exception after the next.

One of the young aggressive pups from the Australian delegation tried a little loud talk bullying to no avail as he tried to weigh in on the side of the military. The military spat statistics and model numbers to try and pontificate himself ahead of the others and it all became a little clutching at straws. It really showed their weakness as they were completely disinterested in engaging on any of the problematic issues in a constructive way.

The issue of Interoperability is a storm in a tea cup as there are many ways to deal with this issue in the treaty or in national legislation. The treaty text that is being circulated at the moment basically adds wording that would allow open assistance with another country that wants to use cluster bombs. The lawyers say it’s to protect their troops in joint operations from legal liability if their partners use cluster bombs. If this were so then the text should have an intent and wording like ‘knowingly and unintentional’ to demonstrate that they would not wilfully assist in the use of cluster bombs. This kind of wording is not what is being discussed though. What is being discussed is text that allows active support of a cluster bomb using country to continue their use. It allows inducement and assistance. That is not the kind of wording that protects soldiers from being caught up in someone else’s cluster bomb strike. It even covers ‘training’ so how can that be an accidental act?

To be really accurate lets look at the offending text.

“a State Party may,
a. Host states not party to the convention which engage in activities described in Article1.
b. Participate in planning or execution of operations, exercises or other military and related logistic activities by that State Party, its armed forces or individual nationals, conducted in combination with armed forces of States not parties to this Convention which engage in activities described in Article 1.”

It this text actually manages to go into the treaty then it will have a massive loop hole that will bring the shadow of more cluster bomb strikes to future wars.

One issue I wonder if supporting countries have though about is the concept of ‘collateral damage’. That basically means you have killed civilians. This is not a hypothetical but has so many instances in fact that it’s impossible to ignore.

In 1999 during the war in Kosovo NATO cluster bombed a so called target in a town called Nis in Serbia. They missed their target and dropped their cluster bombs into the suburbs. Many civilian people were killed and injured by this action. NATO said it was an accident.

All of that being as it is, how would a country who assisted in this operation who is a signatory to the treaty then see its liability? If Australia assisted in such a strike and the subsequent ‘accident’ then would they be liable? Morally I say 100% yes. What do lawyers with no morals say? They would probably say that it covers them legally and allows protection of their forces from liability. I would say it will equate to more dead civilians in future conflicts. The one thing I do know is that it will not be them who will be there to clear up the mess.

The other complicated part of the treaty is in defining what a cluster bomb is. This is becoming a very technical argument and has gone in every direction so far except a positive one. Is a cluster bomb defined by numbers of munitions or explosive size or bomblet size or what. To date this debate has gone nowhere. This seems to be of key concern for the Australians and they have bought their new weapon system. I can’t even begin to guess where this discussion will end up so the rest of the negotiations will be interesting.

The new Australian system is a cluster based anti vehicle or artillery weapon. It’s a top end expensive first world bank account system so of course they want them and are happy for the third world to be again disadvantaged as they can’t compete financially. It’s back to the case of ban all weapons except what they want to keep. Many of the European countries are doing this as well.

We loaded up for the long drive to County Mayo and the beginning of the Famine Walk the next day.

The drive southwest took us through many an iconic Irish town Like Ballyshannon and Donegal till we were deep in the west country. This is a stunning part on Ireland and the Famine Walk will commemorate the suffering of so many Irish during the Famine of the 1840’s and 1850’s. This period of failed crops and land evictions was responsible for the halving of the Irish population from 8 million to 4 million people. Many died and those who didn’t tried to emigrate to America and Australia. The land lords had indeed succeeded in acquiring the land at the expense of the ordinary Irish farmer.

In the late 1840’s during the height of the famine it was said that food relief was available along this path. Many who were skeletal and barely alive walked this road in search of the food warehouse at the end. When they arrived they were turned away. The food was there but the bureaucrats refused to distribute it. As the starving tried to return the way they came, a storm blew up and many collapsed into the lake and died from the cold or just collapsed on the path and perished where they lay. This was a tragedy that was just one of the many tragedies the Irish suffered in those days.

We arrived in Westport and went in search of the house we were to use outside of town. Sarah from Galway was lending us a place that her family owned there. We found it and were unpacking when she arrived in a small panic. We had to stay somewhere else as the house was to be viewed for sale in the morning. She had an alternative though, a caravan nearby to where the walk would start from. We headed over there.

It was a rowdy night in the van with all of us and Sarah and her friend. The vision of a boarding school dormitory sprang to mind. Not the most restful sleep any of us had but it was in great company so in the morning we took a walk on the beach then headed to the town that would be the end of the walk.

We picked up Andy Story who we had met in Dublin at the start of this whole process and drove the ten miles out of town to the banks of a lake where the walk would begin. The scenery was stunning and it hid the horror of the walk from 150 years before. Imaginations would need to suffice here. The busses arrived and the lakeside filled up till there were about 300 or more people waiting for the start of the walk.

Joe Murray the organiser said a few words and handed over to the key note speakers. The first spoke of water problems and the privatisation of the Irish water system, then the second spoke of oil, profit and war. I was the final speaker and gave them a fast and aggressive view on the cluster bomb problem and what was needed to be done. The crowd were certainly roused and we headed of on the walk. We led at a quick pace and it was an incredible sight to look back and see a snake of people weaving along the banks of the lake. The walk had begun.

The whole ten miles were filled with conversations about cluster bombs and at the half way break we gave out more T-shirts to any who wanted them. A strong presence had been established and many said they would come to Dublin the next weekend and attend the public march.

We finally arrived in Louisburg and all flocked to the nearest pub. Guinness flowed by the gallon and tired feet were cooled in the stream. I was so inspired by the people I had met that I felt sad to have to leave in the morning. The night would at least be spent socialising and networking.