Feature

Fighting for the rights of the ‘heroes’

The battle is never over for those thousands of people — civilian and military alike — disabled by war. And in modern conflict, creating disability is all part of the strategy, says Ann Darnbrough

There seem to be no reliable figures for the numbers of people disabled through war and civil unrest. What is certain is that these numbers continue to grow — mostly in the developing countries. UNICEF has pointed out that for every child killed, three more are wounded — either permanently disabled or psychologically scarred for life.

The World Programme of Action concerning Disabled Persons stated that war and its consequences were among the main factors responsible for the rising number of disabled persons. As the United Nations High Commission for Refugees has pointed out, a situation in which essential infrastructures are destroyed creates acute difficulties, particularly for disabled people.

The rate at which we humans are daily waging wars (declared and undeclared) is such that our aggressive activities rank alongside poverty and natural disasters as the most important cause of disability. While some of our scientists find ways to prevent and cure disabling diseases and conditions, other invent ever new means of destruction.

Our military forces use these weapons to maim and kill. Land mines alone in the conflict areas of the world, are producing unprecedented numbers of amputees¹. Angola is said to have the world’s largest per capita population of amputees as a result of US-supplied land mines being planted along paths, roadways, and in fields where villagers grow their crops². It is said that the initial impetus for the International Year of Disabled People (IYDP) in 1981 came from Libya, where many people were disabled as a result of the landmines left by British and US forces in World War II. Promises to sweep the mines were not fulfilled and Libyan people continued to be injured long after the end of hostilities.

Despite the enormous numbers of people who are disabled in these conflicts, the magnitude of suffering is rarely well reported — it is the figures of the dead we hear. The numbers of women, children and men disabled by conflicts remain hidden. Disabled Peoples’ International has said that ‘for every person killed in war, some ten times that number are injured, a large percentage of whom are permanently disabled’.³

The pattern for disabled people, up to the present day, has been for societies to render them invisible. In industrialised countries people are hidden away in institutions, where to all intents and purposes, they do not exist. But after a war or conflict the disabled veterans, cast in the role of heroes, gain the spotlight. Financial benefits and concessions and special employment arrangements provided by the state may be awarded to returning soldiers. People disabled by war are commonly treated as a separate category by governments; they tend to be the first to receive disability pensions or other compensation. In Mozambique, for example, there is no pension system at all, except for soldiers wounded in combat.

However in a number of countries, the benefits first awarded returning soldiers have in time been widened to include all disabled people, whatever the cause of their disability. It is ironic that war as a major cause of disability should, by a twist of fate, be the agent for change that encourages governments to provide benefits for disabled people. Not only that, but it may also effect a change of attitude to people with disabilities. When people wounded in conflicts are seen as heroes, the general status of disabled people is to some extent lifted. A clear example of this is in the West Bank and Gaza Strip, where those wounded in the Intifada are revered by their communities. In this case, the heroes are not returning veterans but civilians, many of them children.

While soldiers may reap at least some compensation after a war, civilians bear the brunt of the disabling conditions. War is waged less and less on battlefields: it is fought on city streets and in village communities. This was clearly so in Vietnam, where the civilian population suffered desperately though direct conflict and as a result of the scorched earth policy.

In the run up to the recent Gulf war, much effort was directed to allaying people’s sensitivities, by talking of precision bombing and of clean, quick, surgical and even ‘benign’ weapons systems, intended to ‘take out’ only military objectives. Maybe we were fooled, maybe the technology is nowhere as precise as we are led to believe: whatever the reason, the individuals who make up the many thousands of people who were permanently disabled in the conflict know that their lives have been devastated, and that the means for them to adjust to their disabilities are hopelessly limited in a society where the very infrastructure has been demolished. Few amputees will receive the artificial limbs they need, and wheelchairs will usually be out of the question.

So-called ‘low-intensity conflicts’ (LICSs) are taking place in many different areas in developing countries — the destabilisation strategy to which powers hostile to a particular government have resorted. The case of Nicaragua has been a clear example of this. LICs tend to produce fewer deaths but ensure high numbers of disabled people. In the West Bank and Gaza Strip, for example, it has been reported that ‘by comparison with the numbers of Palestinians injured, death tolls are relatively low. Since the Israeli army is a highly trained and disciplined fighting force, those casualty figures show that it has conducted a war aimed primarily at injuring, but not at killing, their Palestinian adversaries on a massive scale. As a result, one in every 22 children in Gaza has been seriously injured by gunfire, beatings or tear gas’.⁴ In Angola, according to David Werner, ‘the huge number of disabled people is no accident. It is part of the strategy of LIC. Leaving people seriously disabled puts a greater economic burden on families and the nation than does killing people outright’.

The questions raised by these issues are diffuse. Shall we ever see a world without violent conflict? Will avoidable disability become a priority target of resources? Will sufficient resources be made available to disabled people to enable them to live full lives in their communities? Will the prejudices surrounding disabled people be overcome?

One way in which our world has changed drastically is the manner in which disabled people have started to take control over their own circumstances. Not satisfied with being ignored at worse and patronised at best, they are coming together to present a formidable campaign for disabled people’s rights over their own lives.

Through Disabled Peoples’ International, organisations of disabled people are being set up all over the world. In Zanzibar, the Organisation of Disabled People is involved in running a community based rehabilitation service. In Angola, Sudan, and in many other places, disabled people are setting up workshops to make aids and equipment. During the fighting in Nicaragua, a lot of people became disabled, and this has led to a massive increase in disability activism.

Disabled people throughout the world are increasingly becoming politicised — their movement has been described as the last great human rights struggle. It is to be hoped that their efforts in solidarity may prove to be a lesson for all humankind. For too long, strength has been the deciding factor in human affairs.