Hawker
28th October 2004, 01:25
21st Century Slaves
Here's something from National Geographic on slavery in the 21st century,I've read the article on the magazine,here's a preview of it.
There are more slaves today than were seized from Africa in four centuries of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The modern commerce in humans rivals illegal drug trafficking in its global reach—and in the destruction of lives.
Sherwood Castle, headquarters to Milorad Milakovic, the former railway official who rose to become a notorious slave trafficker in Bosnia, looms beside the main road just outside the northwest Bosnian town of Prijedor. Under stucco battlements, the entrance is guarded by well-muscled, heavily tattooed young men, while off to one side Milakovic's trio of pet Siberian tigers prowl their caged compound.
I arrived there alone one gray spring morning—alone because no local guide or translator dared accompany me—and found my burly 54-year-old host waiting for me at a table set for lunch beside a glassed-in aquamarine swimming pool.
The master of Sherwood has never been shy about his business. He once asked a dauntless human rights activist who has publicly detailed his record of buying women for his brothels in Prijedor: "Is it a crime to sell women? They sell footballers, don't they?"
Milakovic threatened to kill the activist for her outspokenness, but to me he sang a softer tune. Over a poolside luncheon of seafood salad and steak, we discussed the stream of young women fleeing the shattered economies of their home countries in the former Soviet bloc. Milakovic said he was eager to promote his scheme to legalize prostitution in Bosnia—"to stop the selling of people, because each of those girls is someone's child."
One such child is a nearsighted, chain-smoking blonde named Victoria, at 20 a veteran of the international slave trade. For three years of her life she was among the estimated 27 million men, women, and children in the world who are enslaved—physically confined or restrained and forced to work, or controlled through violence, or in some way treated as property.
Victoria's odyssey began when she was 17, fresh out of school in Chisinau, the decayed capital of the former Soviet republic of Moldova. "There was no work, no money," she explained simply. So when a friend—"at least I thought he was a friend"—suggested he could help her get a job in a factory in Turkey, she jumped at the idea and took up his offer to drive her there, through Romania. "But when I realized we had driven west, to the border with Serbia, I knew something was wrong."
It was too late. At the border she was handed over to a group of Serb men, who produced a new passport saying she was 18. They led her on foot into Serbia and raped her, telling her that she would be killed if she resisted. Then they sent her under guard to Bosnia, the Balkan republic being rebuilt under a torrent of international aid after its years of genocidal civil war.
Victoria was now a piece of property and, as such, was bought and sold by different brothel owners ten times over the next two years for an average price of $1,500. Finally, four months pregnant and fearful of a forced abortion, she escaped. I found her hiding in the Bosnian city of Mostar, sheltered by a group of Bosnian women.
In a soft monotone she recited the names of clubs and bars in various towns where she had to dance seminaked, look cheerful, and have sex with any customer who wanted her for the price of a few packs of cigarettes. "The clubs were all awful, although the Artemdia, in Banja Luka, was the worst—all the customers were cops," she recalled.
Victoria was a debt slave. Payment for her services went straight to her owner of the moment to cover her "debt"—the amount he had paid to buy her from her previous owner. She was held in servitude unless or until the money she owed to whomever controlled her had been recovered, at which point she would be sold again and would begin to work off the purchase price paid by her new owner. Although slavery in its traditional form survives in many parts of the world, debt slavery of this kind, with variations, is the most common form of servitude today.
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.2.jpg
Tainted Treasure
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
Exquisite handmade carpets are admired throughout the world. For a growing number of consumers, however, their beauty is dimmed by the knowledge that at many looms, like this one in northern India, young children do the hard work of transforming fiber into art—without choice, or pay. "If you have an imported handwoven carpet on your floor right now," says Kevin Bales, a leading slavery researcher and director of the U.S.-based group Free the Slaves, "there is a good chance that it was woven by an enslaved child."
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.3.jpg
Profitable Pain
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
At Mumbai's Chatrapati Shivaji railway terminal a boy named Krishna (foreground) is one of a stable of child beggars controlled by a network that includes these two women. Because his scarred back draws the sympathy of passersby, Krishna collects more money than uninjured beggars—and the women take every rupee. He sleeps in the station, taking his drinking and washing water from puddles that collect under the train cars, and surviving on scraps of food doled out by his keepers.
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.5.jpg
Shared Triumph
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
Francisco Martinez, left, and Alejandro Benitez share an extraordinary bond: Both have experienced brutality at the hands of modern-day slaveholders, and both have committed themselves to helping other farmworkers escape bondage in the fields and groves of Florida. Benitez was working for a passenger van service when he and his boss were attacked by armed slaveholders for giving rides to farmworkers, some of them slaves, who wanted to leave the area. He helped federal investigators build a case against Juan, Ramiro, and Jose Luis Ramos that last year sent the three convicted traffickers to jail for a combined total of 34 years. Martinez joined the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (headquarters, above) after he escaped from a nearby forced-labor operation. He now counsels other farmworkers about their rights, and helps those who have been forced to labor as slaves to reorient themselves to liberty. "We're looking forward to the day when there aren't any more slaves to rescue," says Martinez, "but as long as there are, this is work we'll be proud to do."
Here's something from National Geographic on slavery in the 21st century,I've read the article on the magazine,here's a preview of it.
There are more slaves today than were seized from Africa in four centuries of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The modern commerce in humans rivals illegal drug trafficking in its global reach—and in the destruction of lives.
Sherwood Castle, headquarters to Milorad Milakovic, the former railway official who rose to become a notorious slave trafficker in Bosnia, looms beside the main road just outside the northwest Bosnian town of Prijedor. Under stucco battlements, the entrance is guarded by well-muscled, heavily tattooed young men, while off to one side Milakovic's trio of pet Siberian tigers prowl their caged compound.
I arrived there alone one gray spring morning—alone because no local guide or translator dared accompany me—and found my burly 54-year-old host waiting for me at a table set for lunch beside a glassed-in aquamarine swimming pool.
The master of Sherwood has never been shy about his business. He once asked a dauntless human rights activist who has publicly detailed his record of buying women for his brothels in Prijedor: "Is it a crime to sell women? They sell footballers, don't they?"
Milakovic threatened to kill the activist for her outspokenness, but to me he sang a softer tune. Over a poolside luncheon of seafood salad and steak, we discussed the stream of young women fleeing the shattered economies of their home countries in the former Soviet bloc. Milakovic said he was eager to promote his scheme to legalize prostitution in Bosnia—"to stop the selling of people, because each of those girls is someone's child."
One such child is a nearsighted, chain-smoking blonde named Victoria, at 20 a veteran of the international slave trade. For three years of her life she was among the estimated 27 million men, women, and children in the world who are enslaved—physically confined or restrained and forced to work, or controlled through violence, or in some way treated as property.
Victoria's odyssey began when she was 17, fresh out of school in Chisinau, the decayed capital of the former Soviet republic of Moldova. "There was no work, no money," she explained simply. So when a friend—"at least I thought he was a friend"—suggested he could help her get a job in a factory in Turkey, she jumped at the idea and took up his offer to drive her there, through Romania. "But when I realized we had driven west, to the border with Serbia, I knew something was wrong."
It was too late. At the border she was handed over to a group of Serb men, who produced a new passport saying she was 18. They led her on foot into Serbia and raped her, telling her that she would be killed if she resisted. Then they sent her under guard to Bosnia, the Balkan republic being rebuilt under a torrent of international aid after its years of genocidal civil war.
Victoria was now a piece of property and, as such, was bought and sold by different brothel owners ten times over the next two years for an average price of $1,500. Finally, four months pregnant and fearful of a forced abortion, she escaped. I found her hiding in the Bosnian city of Mostar, sheltered by a group of Bosnian women.
In a soft monotone she recited the names of clubs and bars in various towns where she had to dance seminaked, look cheerful, and have sex with any customer who wanted her for the price of a few packs of cigarettes. "The clubs were all awful, although the Artemdia, in Banja Luka, was the worst—all the customers were cops," she recalled.
Victoria was a debt slave. Payment for her services went straight to her owner of the moment to cover her "debt"—the amount he had paid to buy her from her previous owner. She was held in servitude unless or until the money she owed to whomever controlled her had been recovered, at which point she would be sold again and would begin to work off the purchase price paid by her new owner. Although slavery in its traditional form survives in many parts of the world, debt slavery of this kind, with variations, is the most common form of servitude today.
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.2.jpg
Tainted Treasure
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
Exquisite handmade carpets are admired throughout the world. For a growing number of consumers, however, their beauty is dimmed by the knowledge that at many looms, like this one in northern India, young children do the hard work of transforming fiber into art—without choice, or pay. "If you have an imported handwoven carpet on your floor right now," says Kevin Bales, a leading slavery researcher and director of the U.S.-based group Free the Slaves, "there is a good chance that it was woven by an enslaved child."
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.3.jpg
Profitable Pain
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
At Mumbai's Chatrapati Shivaji railway terminal a boy named Krishna (foreground) is one of a stable of child beggars controlled by a network that includes these two women. Because his scarred back draws the sympathy of passersby, Krishna collects more money than uninjured beggars—and the women take every rupee. He sleeps in the station, taking his drinking and washing water from puddles that collect under the train cars, and surviving on scraps of food doled out by his keepers.
http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature1/images/zm_zoomin.1.5.jpg
Shared Triumph
Photograph by Jodi Cobb
Francisco Martinez, left, and Alejandro Benitez share an extraordinary bond: Both have experienced brutality at the hands of modern-day slaveholders, and both have committed themselves to helping other farmworkers escape bondage in the fields and groves of Florida. Benitez was working for a passenger van service when he and his boss were attacked by armed slaveholders for giving rides to farmworkers, some of them slaves, who wanted to leave the area. He helped federal investigators build a case against Juan, Ramiro, and Jose Luis Ramos that last year sent the three convicted traffickers to jail for a combined total of 34 years. Martinez joined the Coalition of Immokalee Workers (headquarters, above) after he escaped from a nearby forced-labor operation. He now counsels other farmworkers about their rights, and helps those who have been forced to labor as slaves to reorient themselves to liberty. "We're looking forward to the day when there aren't any more slaves to rescue," says Martinez, "but as long as there are, this is work we'll be proud to do."