A Discussion with Cornelio Sommaruga, Former President, International Committee for the Red Cross

With: Cornelio Sommaruga Berkley Center Profile

September 9, 2009

Background: Cornelio Sommaruga held many leadership posts over a long career. He worked in the Swiss Diplomatic Service, was president of the International Committee for the Red Cross (ICRC), and was president of Initiatives of Change (IofC). Since his formal retirement from the ICRC in 1999, he has headed numerous nongovernmental organizations and undertaken several public service tasks. In this interview, he reflects on his career and above all questions how, across his different challenges, religion has influenced him and the organizations with which he was most directly associated.

The central question we want to discuss today is how, in reflecting on your career and contributions, you see the role of religion. How has religion contributed to what you have been able to achieve?

To start to answer that question, I have to go to my roots. I was born into a Catholic family, Swiss, who were living in Rome. So I grew up in Rome, with a very religious mother, a father who was less so. Among my various activities, I was an active boy scout, and we had retreats in various places, often large or small abbeys or monasteries. During one such retreat, at a small monastery, when I was 18, I took some decisions on the objectives for my life. Surprisingly, because I was very young and came to these ideas quite independently, these have in fact guided my life and I speak of them often, particularly over the past 10 years.

The objectives form a troika: to serve the community and mankind, to defend man’s dignity (there I was much influenced by the Second World War, that I had lived through), and (surprisingly since I was so young), to focus on life in my family and to defend the family more generally. I am not sure how I came to the latter, since I had then no concrete idea of my own family, but I believe that it came in part from the model of my parents. But this commitment to the troika was a decision that I made for myself. It has caused me difficulties and tensions at different times, for example when internal conflicts arose while I was a Swiss diplomat, but the principles have lasted and served me well.

How did your career unfold?

I started quite early to work as a diplomat, and served over the years in many capacities. I was a “classic” diplomat, serving in various European posts, then worked on trade matters and economic affairs. I was responsible over several years for Switzerland’s relationships with the World Bank and the regional development banks. I signed the IDA replenishments on behalf of Switzerland, for example, and handled a wide range of matters. I was an observer at the Development Committee, and attended many Annual Meetings of the IMF and World Bank. For some years I was particularly engaged with COMECOM and the European Commission.

The difficulties of conflicts posed by my strong sense of principles that I recall were most significant on trade issues. But throughout, on all issues, I believed that it was important to establish clearly and to understand what my interests were as well as those of my counterparts: what was it possible for my counterparts to do and why? And sometimes those interests were not so easy to understand, or posed some conflicts. But always, I found, my style of negotiating, of being open and transparent, was appreciated. I would put my perspective and interests on the table from the very start, and make clear my intentions.

What sorts of conflicts do you recall?

Perhaps the clearest came when I was dealing with trade matters, for example with projects such as hydro or thermal power schemes where investment guarantees were at issue. The state sought to intervene in some cases, for reasons that were not transparent at all. And there were cases where the schemes had major effects on local communities, again in ways that were far from fully clear or transparent. I was responsible for giving the green light for the investment to go forward, and sometimes I would not give it. These cases gave me some problems with my own government, and in such cases I made the case and if the decision went in a way where I was not satisfied, I wrote a note to the file laying out my perspectives and concerns. And there were times when ministers were quite upset with me, because of course they too had interests.

But for the most part I had quite extraordinary ministers, and they listened to my arguments and concerns, and generally went in the directions I advocated.

Was religion much a factor during your diplomatic career?

Rarely and quite incidentally. However, I was serving in Rome during the period of Vatican II and, because of my languages and background, was called to represent Switzerland, informally, to the Holy See. I participated in a number of meetings around Vatican II and learned much from them. I got to know many of the people involved, especially the Swiss bishops, and played intermediary roles on several occasions. I had contacts with the Secretary of State for Christian Unity, (later) Cardinal Willebrands, a Dutchman, and met Frere Roger, head of Taize, who was Swiss, and who was so tragically assassinated. So I came to understand and appreciate the importance of interreligious relations. And also the complex dynamics of differences within the Catholic community, with very different views coming from various countries; and surprisingly often the most conservative from the poorer countries of Africa and Latin America. The Italians and Americans were, and remain, very much divided.

It was during this period that I came to know and appreciate the Community of Sant’Egidio. I had some involvement with the negotiations on Mozambique that centered in Rome and emerged with a strong sense of what they could achieve and of their commitment.

What led you from the Swiss Diplomatic Service to the ICRC?

It came as a tremendous surprise. I was called, out of the blue, and asked if I would take the position of president of the ICRC. I did not know ICRC well at the time, and the discussions took place in tremendous secrecy. I faced complex questions about resigning from the diplomatic service and determining what I could achieve in the ICRC position, which I could not even discuss with my family. I held at the time a senior position, as Secretary of State, so resignation was no trivial matter and there were many political dimensions to the decision.

But I took the decision to say yes. So I accepted the position and moved to the Red Cross. And in doing so it was far less the political aspects of the challenge that motivated me than it was the humanitarian work—ICRC’s work close to the ground, to defend prisoners of war, the guilty, that moved me and that was the way I knew the Red Cross best.

How would you describe the way that you saw religion as part of your motivation and work up to that point?

I had been religious from quite a young age, not only a believer but also a practitioner. I was certainly critical, and did not accept everything coming from Rome, but religion and the Church were very much present in my life. It gave me the strength to continue to follow my principles. It also gave me the strength to recuperate following difficult situations, and there were plenty of those in my work with the ICRC.

I was also attacked in the press about my religion at the time of my appointment, particularly by the Protestant press of Geneva, which wrote that I was a Catholic coming from Bern to control the ICRC. This was of course ridiculous and passed quickly.

But by far the more difficult times came when we lost people, colleagues, in the line of ICRC work. We lost people in many places: in Chechnya, Burundi, Somalia, the Philippines. And these people were not killed by accident. It was hard to find the strength to go on, and my religious beliefs helped a lot.

And religion has had a central role in the core of the work, because religion is so central to the critical issues around reconciliation. The path to peace goes through religion. But if religions fight each other, we can achieve nothing. That is why the demarche, the initiative of the Community of Sant’Egidio is so important, why I believe so much in dialogue. It is the only way to bridge differences, to create a culture where reconciliation is possible.

You were reflecting on the challenge of forgiveness, especially in the context of our visit yesterday to Auschwitz and Birkenau. What is your counsel on the topic?

Questions around forgiveness, memory, and justice are very complicated and need to be understood that way. It is often much easier to forgive if you do not merge forgiveness with memory. Reviving memory can often make it more difficult to forgive without mental reservation. Forgiveness is a very personal matter. Justice is a matter for the society, whereas forgiveness is up to the individual. And yet there can be no peace without justice, nor can there be peace without forgiveness.

Can you speak about the somewhat complex questions around how religion was not, and perhaps was and is, linked to the Red Cross and Red Crescent movement?

The simple answer is that the ICRC has no religious character, indeed, to the contrary. There are, however, some important nuances, both in the organizations and the movement’s history, where faith and ethics played a part, and in more recent debates about the emblems of neutrality—the cross and the crescent.

The Red Cross movement was born essentially in 1863 and its first concrete form came in 1864, with the first Geneva Convention. That was concerned with the treatment of those wounded on the battlefield. Only 12 countries signed the Convention, though 16 or 17 had participated in the negotiations. The Americans were there but did not sign. I note parenthetically that the experience of signing conventions has been mixed, as signature is not always followed by adherence.

The early leaders of the ICRC were Swiss, from Geneva: the original concern and impetus is credited to Henri Dunant, a Swiss businessman. Guillaume-Henri Dufour, a Swiss general, served as the first president. He was succeeded by Gustav Moynier, a Swiss lawyer who served for some 40 years and made major contributions to building the legal framework which is the foundation for the ICRC’s work.

These legal aspects were important, as they provide the basic framework within which the ICRC could operate. The conventions came to establish the norms of behavior of parties to a conflict, establishing slowly and progressively over time that there were certain things that should be done and things that were unacceptable. And there were many difficulties, particularly in defining the roles and rights of non-combatants. These norms were elaborated through successive Geneva conventions. In the past four years there have been agreements on treatment of the wounded in internal conflicts, and treatment of those captured at sea and victims of shipwrecks. In 1977 two additional protocols were signed, relating to protections of civilians.

While the founders of the movement were clearly Christians, Swiss Calvinists, the movement defined itself as entirely detached from religion. The symbol of the Red Cross was proposed at the first Geneva conference as a tribute to the founding nation, Switzerland, so that it takes the Swiss flag’s symbol, in reverse. It was not at all intended as a Christian symbol. The idea was to create a symbol of protection for those going into the battlefield to help the victims. And at first there was not even the name of the red cross. The Dutch Red Cross was in fact the first to use that name and then other National Societies followed before the ICRC.

The red cross seen as a religious symbol first became a problem in 1880 when under the Ottoman Empire the Turks refused to use the cross as a symbol of protection and used the crescent instead. But it was not officially recognized until 1929, when it was agreed that both symbols, cross and crescent, could be used as symbols of protection and Turkey and Egypt adopted the crescent. With decolonization many new societies came into being and each decided which symbol to adopt. Today some 30-33 country organizations use the red crescent. But all are part of the same movement and the ICRC name does not reflect this dimension.

I personally worked (for some 13 years) to reach agreement on another symbol, the red crystal, one that would clearly have no religious or cultural significance. This came in part with the desire of Israel to secure agreement that the Star of David would also be a protected symbol, but that was not agreed upon. The negotiations for the Red Crystal took many years of discussions among the national movements and governments. It was finally agreed upon in 2005, under Protocol III.

Today each national society decides on the symbol it will use. There are two Muslim majority countries that still use the red cross: Indonesia and Senegal.

The central principle of the movement is neutrality, not to take a stand. Impartiality has always been essential. And further, it does not take instructions of any kind from governments or other organizations. On that basis, religion and religious organizations are not part of the spirit nor of the essential ethics of the organization.

How did you come to be involved in Initiatives of Change, with Caux?

I had always been inspired by what happened at Caux. My mother was at Caux after the Second World War (during the efforts to reconcile France and Germany), and spoke often about it, though my father did not want to hear about it. While I was president of the ICRC, I was invited there several times to give keynote addresses, and I came to discover the work that lay behind the name Caux.

And then I was asked, in 1999, to take on the presidency of the organization, at first, in fact, the Swiss Foundation. And I agreed. I succeeded Marcel Grandy, who had devoted his life to Moral Rearmament.

I set myself at first two important tasks. The first was to change the name, which at the time was still Moral Rearmament. To me that was an anachronism, apt and acceptable perhaps in the context of the 1930s, when Frank Buchman created the movement, but not today. There, I found that in fact there were many who agreed, and it did not take long, through various discussions, to come to agreement first on the theme of change, then on initiatives. But it took longer to reach consensus on how they were linked: Initiatives for Change? To change? So we agreed on the English Initiatives of Change. And at a press conference making the announcement, someone suggested that Initiatives de Changement meant nothing, and it was then, with Rajmohan Gandhi beside me, that I came up with the formula in French: Initiatives et Changement. And that has stuck.

The second challenge was to try to bring some order into the relationships among a host of national organizations that had emerged. My aim was to bring them together into a federation. This was no easy task. I had hoped that the organization could be named for Caux but that was considered too Swiss. And slowly we negotiated by-laws that brought the federation together under one umbrella. It took time because I wanted to see a large consensus on these by-laws. And in the process I discovered that there were real differences, that, especially among the northern European national organizations, there was an idea that the purpose was Christian proselytization, whereas I saw the organization as far more multi-faith in character. In time we found ways to shift opinion and to respect some of the underlying spiritual ideas, for example by mentioning Frank Buchman and his thinking and goals in the preamble to the by-laws.

The interreligious character of Initiatives of Change has always been important to me. And in one of my early speeches I said that we should be open to the sans Dieu, to non-believers. And we have come to accept a role for non-believers in the movement, as long as they adhere to the ethical principles that drive the organization.

I served as president of the Swiss Foundation for four years, then, when 12 national associations (the legal threshold) had ratified the bylaws, I was elected and served for a further four years a president of the International Association.

Throughout, I saw (and continue to see) Caux as an important place and tool for working for reconciliation. The organization has many different aspects and parts of its mandate. Some of its focus is very much tied to specific geographic areas and problems. And the whole organization is concerned with the challenge of the role of ethics in society.

How is the Caux Round Table (to which Cardinal McCarrick referred in his talk at Cracow) related to Initiatives of Change?

There is no formal relationship but the Caux Round Table was indeed born in Caux, at Mountain House.

The Round Table originated with a process and a meeting organized by large industrialists, especially Frederick Phillips. It was founded in 1986, and the famous Caux Round Table principles, which speak to corporate social responsibility and business ethics, were formulated in 1992. They have brought together a large group of business leaders who are concerned about such issues, who fall into three rough groups, from Europe, Japan, and the United States. Each today has a secretariat, and there is a CEO based in the United States. The current CEO is Stephen Young, who has issued a very interesting analysis of the new Encyclical, Caritas et Veritate. It highlights how far the work that the Round Table has done is moving along similar tracks to Catholic social teaching.

As I said, there is no formal relationship between the CRT and IofC, but recently at my initiative we have made efforts to bring the two closer together. The CRT, which in practice had met over the years in many places (following the initial meeting at Caux) has met three times at Caux. This gave the opportunity for some of the younger members to learn why indeed the name Caux was linked to the Caux Round Table and principles. And though most of the CEOs involved are accustomed to five star hotels, and Mountain House certainly is not a five star hotel, nonetheless they appreciate the setting and have enjoyed being there. Frederick Phillips has remained active in Caux and indeed three of his daughters have come to meetings there. And we have an agreement that the president of Initiatives of Change would be invited to the Caux Round Tables, and that Caux Round Table representatives are always welcome at IofC events and that CRT is welcome to organize meetings at Caux in the summertime. There was a three year agreement and indeed they have met there three times. The linkages have been particularly strong in the context of meetings about economics and indeed there was an important meeting this summer (in which one of my daughters participated actively) that involved both organizations.

The Geneva Spiritual Appeal of the year 1999 was something in which you invested much effort. What was the background and what was its significance?

Interreligious dialogue, as I have said, is extremely important, and I have worked to advance it wherever I had the opportunity. One of the most important developments was the Geneva Spiritual Appeal of 1999. It originated with a joint initiative of some religious ministers and three international leaders and was then taken up by a wider Geneva based group, who were deeply troubled by what was happening in the world then; the original three were, by chance, practicing Catholics: Mary Robinson, then High Commissioner for Human Rights, Sadako Ogata, High Commissioner for Refugees, and myself. The idea was launched as a joint initiative of some religious ministers and myself, and was then taken up by a remarkable group of spiritual leaders in Geneva, including Archbishop Diarmuid Martin and the Protestant Dean, William McComish. Geneva is truly a spiritual crossroads so the effort had special importance, and the appeal was launched in 1999 at the Cathedral of St. Pierre. The central idea was that you cannot use God to justify war.

The launch at the Cathedral was deeply memorable, with leaders from many different faiths. And the Abbe Pierre was there, though he was old and weak and came in a wheelchair. But he stood up, stalwartly to give his final blessing. And instead of a blessing he gave a speech. And because he was not very stable, he was held on one side by a rabbi, on the other by an imam.

What are your most important activities during your retirement?

I have done and still do many things! Most demanding has been my service on the boards of several foundations, including the Open Society Institute, the Karl Popper Institute, and the Foundation for the Future, which is based in Amman. I also worked with Accentus, initiated by Credit Swisse.

And could you finish with any memorable stories?

I had remarkable times, especially as president of the ICRC. One of my assistants gave me as a parting gift a list of the heads of state I had met and there were over 110! And I also met many rebel leaders. But one I remember especially was Fidel Castro, who I met in Havana, when I was trying to negotiate access to prisoners (I was successful). During a long meeting he reproached me for not caring for my health but still gave me a box of good cigars. And in our long meeting he told many stories. When I was speaking about treatment of prisoners (the issues that brought me there) he found a handwritten letter he himself had written, before he took power in Cuba, to the ICRC, about prisoners. And he was ahead of his time. He instructed that the letter, in his handwriting, be found in the archives and copied for me before I left the next day. And it was—a remarkable letter, now in the ICRC archives.

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