Several years ago I was in a brothel in Cambodia. The owner brought two girls into the room who were around 14 years old. He said that for US$30 I could have either girl for one hour. When I told him they were not what I was looking for and went to leave, he said, “Wait, I know what you want”. He left the room and returned a few moments later with two 6-year-old girls.
Every day, large numbers of men from every nation, creed and race arrived at the village I was in, to prey on more than 50 children between the ages of 5 and 12, most of whom had been trafficked from Vietnam. The wife of the local police commander visited each brothel at the end of the day to collect a percentage of their earnings. Unsurprisingly when the human rights group I was working for took the evidence I had collected to the local authorities, there was an unwillingness act.
Because we were headquartered in Washington D.C., we took our covert video footage to the US Ambassador to Cambodia. He then spoke to the Cambodian Prime Minister and several weeks later we were assigned a team of police officers to assist in a staged a buy-bust operation. The goal was to rescue the children and facilitate the arrest of the perpetrators responsible.
Sadly everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. Corruption, ineptitude, and ego — my own included, led to a breakdown in communication and a tip off to some of those involved. Of the original 50 children I had identified, only 6 were successfully rescued.
The above image is not me rescuing a 6-year-old girl. For me it will forever be an image of leaving 44 children behind. We subsequently learned that because those 44 children now posed a threat as potential witnesses to the entire criminal operation, some of them were permanently disposed of.
I ultimately spent eight years in the field, investigating cases of Modern Slavery and during that time we were able to rescue a few hundred women and children. However, we ultimately failed to rescue many thousands. Unsurprisingly perhaps, at the end of it all, I was depressed, divorced, full of despair and completely burned out. So, when it comes to addressing Modern Slavery, I would like to call bullshit on a few things, in the hope it is of benefit.
Separation
The first, is the illusion of separation. As long as victims of Modern Slavery remain “objects” rather than “subjects” in our eyes, they will remain separate from us, deserving only our pity and sympathy, some well-meaning donations, policy changes and law reviews.
In 2019, New Zealand was forever changed when a terrorist attacked our Muslim community, killing 51 men, women and children. Our Prime Minister and ultimately our nation responded with the words “They are us”. For many it was this breakdown in separation that allowed us to really see the victims and their families, not as “other” but as “us”.
We are sometimes told that the world would be a better place if we simply treated others as we would like to be treated. From my own experience I have only found this to be possible when I am truly willing to see myself “in” the other. The girl in the image above is not “Vietnamese”, “victim” or “slave”. She is my daughter, and she is yours. Ultimately, she is “us”.
In combatting slavery and injustice, ancient wisdom reminds us and modern psychology confirms, that we do not see the world as it is. Rather we see the world as we are. Therefore until our perception changes, our lens of the world is transformed, nothing is truly going to change.
Inherent Dignity
Secondly, I would like to call bullshit on the idea that we “fight against” Modern Slavery. “Fighting against” and the oppositional energy it generates leads us back into comparison, competition and aggression, and perpetuates the same system that gave birth to slavery in the first place, only in a different form.
Our egos love the noble idea of “conquering evil” — my own included. For many years I sucked my identity, significance, purpose, meaning and worth out of what I was doing on this heroic journey.
But what Victor Frankl teaches us from a Nazi death camp, Martin Luther King Jr. from an Alabama jail, Nelson Mandela from a South African prison, and a 15-year-old girl named Esther from inside a Thai brothel, is that we don’t fight against slavery. Paradoxically, we rest in and build upon in ever expanding circles, our inherent human dignity and freedom.
In his book The Infinite Game, Simon Sinek calls it a just cause; something we stand for and believe in, not something we oppose. He says, it is easy to rally people against something because our emotions run hot when we are angry or afraid. Being for something, in contrast, is about feeling inspired. Being for ignites the human spirit and fills us with hope and optimism.
Sinek states, “Being against is about vilifying, demonising or rejecting. Being for is about inviting all to join in common cause. Being against focuses our attention on the things we can see in order to elicit reactions. Being for focuses our attention on the as yet uncreated frame in order to spark our imaginations. Being against creates a common enemy and sets up a “winnable” or “finite game”, falsely leading us to believe we can defeat it once and for all. Being for gives us a positive cause to advance and rally others around.”
As Sinek affirms, the impact of the two perceptions is more than semantics. It affects how we see the challenge and therefore impacts our thoughts, ideas and actions in how we respond. Whereas the first offers us a problem to solve, the second offers a vision of possibility and empowerment.
Interconnected
Another reason we cannot “fight against” Modern Slavery is because we live in a deeply interconnected universe, such that we ultimately end up fighting against ourselves. A significant part of my life and yours only exists because of Modern Slavery. If you have a diamond on your finger, chocolate in your diet or a smart phone in your pocket, the simple reality is you very likely have slaves working for you. According to SlaveryFootprint.org I currently have 33 slaves working for me to maintain my lifestyle.
Once again, this myth relies on the illusion of separation; that the evil we seek to destroy is outside of ourselves, somewhere “out there” or as a scapegoat in that “evil person” or that “evil nation”. Instead of fighting against Modern Slavery, or against ourselves and our inadvertent role in it, the greater invitation is to see all humanity as equally included, and then participate in ways that expand the inherent freedom and dignity of all people.
Modern Slavery Legislation
To date, every nation that has sought to address Modern Slavery has created the equivalent of a Modern Slavery Act. This certainly has value and indeed Kathmandu has already submitted a very robust statement in accordance with the Australian Modern Slavery Act. However, in creating Modern Slavery legislation, each nation has defined who they are by what they are against, rather than more clearly defining and stating what they are for.
The universal values that guide our human tribe are typically grounded in fairness, equality, and inclusion. All forms of slavery and exploitation are therefore the antithesis of everything we stand for. The more powerful invitation is therefore to frame our response in terms of our shared values. In other words, let the actions we take be an authentic response based on who we are, not an externally imposed international responsibility that we reluctantly feel obliged to adhere to.
At a recent conference on Modern Slavery, I proposed that in keeping with our Kiwi heritage and culture, rather than a Modern Slavery Act, we instead created the Freedom Act of New Zealand; legislation that absolutely addresses the full continuum of Modern Slavery, but does so in the context of the mana and freedom we already embody.
Esther
I mentioned Esther earlier. She came from a very poor family in Myanmar. As a young teenager Esther was promised a legitimate job in Thailand where she could make enough money to send home to help her family. With the blessing of her parents, she traveled across the border but upon arrival was taken to a brothel where she was raped and brutalized. Along with the other women and girls held captive, Esther was then sold many times a day for many months.
Eventually, posing as a customer, one of my colleagues was able to infiltrate the brothel and speak with Esther. He subsequently facilitated a raid by the police and Esther along with the others was rescued. Once those responsible had been arrested, the rescue team returned with Esther to the brothel to collect her few belongings. Inside the bedroom that had effectively been her prison, the team noticed some handwriting on the wall above Esther’s bed where she had been repeatedly raped for profit.
When they asked her what it said, Esther explained that it was a poem from the Old Testament that her parents had taught her as a child. She translated the paraphrase of what it said:
God you are my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?
God you are the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, even then I will trust that you are good, that you are for me, and that I am loved.
There is an inherent dignity and freedom inside us all that no one can take away. Only from this place, in ever expanding circles, can we authentically respond to and meaningfully address Modern Slavery.
