This is how war starts. One day you're living your ordinary life, you're planning to go to a party, you're taking your children to school, you're making a dentist appointment. The next thing, the telephones go out, the TVs go out, there's armed men on the street, there's roadblocks. Your life as you know it goes into suspended animation. It stops.
戰爭就是這樣開始的 有一天 你過著平凡無奇的生活 要去參加派對 送小孩去上學 預約牙醫門診 接著 電話不通了 電視不能看了 街上有人拿著槍 拒馬也被搬出來了 你所知道的生活進入假死狀態 時間彷彿靜止不動了
I'm going to steal a story from a friend of mine, a Bosnian friend, about what happened to her, because I think it will illustrate for you exactly what it feels like. She was walking to work one day in April, 1992, in a miniskirt and high heels. She worked in a bank. She was a young mother. She was someone who liked to party. Great person. And suddenly she sees a tank ambling down the main road of Sarajevo knocking everything out of its path. She thinks she's dreaming, but she's not. And she runs as any of us would have done and takes cover, and she hides behind a trash bin, in her high heels and her miniskirt. And as she's hiding there, she's feeling ridiculous, but she's seeing this tank go by with soldiers and people all over the place and chaos and she thinks, "I feel like Alice in Wonderland going down the rabbit hole, down, down, down into chaos, and my life will never be the same again."
我要說一件發生在我朋友身上的故事 她是波斯尼亞人 是發生她身上的事 因為我想這樣就能告訴你們 戰爭是什麼樣子 1992年4月某日 她走路去上班 穿著迷女裙和高跟鞋 她在銀行上班 她是一位新手媽媽 也很喜歡參加派對 人很好 突然 她看到一台坦克車 緩緩開進塞拉耶佛的大街上 剷平了所有東西 她還以為在作夢 但她錯了 她驚慌失措地逃跑 尋找掩蔽物 最後她躲在垃圾箱後面 穿著短裙和高跟鞋全身捲曲地縮在一起 躲在那裡的時候 她覺得這一切都太荒謬了 但是她看見這輛坦克車旁邊還有士兵護衛 所有人都慌張逃竄 一片混亂 她覺得自己好像身處艾莉絲夢遊仙境 要鑽進兔子洞 爬啊爬 爬到一片混亂的地方 我怎麼會這麼可憐
A few weeks later, my friend was in a crowd of people pushing with her infant son in her arms to give him to a stranger on a bus, which was one of the last buses leaving Sarajevo to take children out so they could be safe. And she remembers struggling with her mother to the front, crowds and crowds of people, "Take my child! Take my child!" and passing her son to someone through a window. And she didn't see him for years. The siege went on for three and a half years, and it was a siege without water, without power, without electricity, without heat, without food, in the middle of Europe, in the middle of the 20th century.
幾個星期之後 我朋友在一群人裡面 推擠掙扎著 當時抱著還是嬰兒的兒子 將他交給公車上的一位陌生人 這是最後開離塞拉耶佛的其中一班公車 把小孩送出去 讓他們安全 她還記得當時她媽媽一直攔著她 很多人都喊著"把我的孩子帶走!把我的孩子帶走!" 然後把她兒子從車窗交給一個陌生人 之後她就沒再看過她兒子了 這場圍城戰持續了3年半 這是一場消耗戰 沒有水 能源 電力 熱能 食物 在歐洲大陸中間 發生在20世紀中期
I had the honor of being one of those reporters that lived through that siege, and I say I have the honor and the privilege of being there because it's taught me everything, not just about being a reporter, but about being a human being. I learned about compassion. I learned about ordinary people who could be heroes. I learned about sharing. I learned about camaraderie. Most of all, I learned about love. Even in the midst of terrible destruction and death and chaos, I learned how ordinary people could help their neighbors, share food, raise their children, drag someone who's being sniped at from the middle of the road even though you yourself were endangering your life, helping people get into taxis who were injured to try to take them to hospitals.
我很榮幸 我就是其中一位記者 曾經歷過那場圍城戰 我覺得自己很榮幸 當時能夠在那裡 因為這場戰爭讓我學到很多 不只是身為一位記者 身為人也是一樣 我學會"同情心" 我知道小兵也能立大功 我學會"分享" "友情" 最重要的是 我學會"關愛" 即使身處在毀滅 死亡和混亂之中 我學到就算是一般人 也能幫助他們的鄰居 分享食物 養育小孩 拖行路中間遭到狙擊致死的屍體 儘管自己都已經身陷險境 將受傷的人 送上計程車 試著把他們帶到醫院
I learned so much about myself. Martha Gellhorn, who's one of my heroes, once said, "You can only love one war. The rest is responsibility." I went on to cover many, many, many wars after that, so many that I lost count, but there was nothing like Sarajevo.
我也更加了解自己 我欣賞的英雄之一 蓋爾霍恩曾經說過 "妳只有能力愛上一場戰爭,其餘的,不過是責任罷了。" 事件過後 我又去採訪很多場戰爭 多到我都數不清 但是沒有一場戰爭像塞拉耶佛戰爭一樣
Last April, I went back to a very strange -- what I called a deranged high school reunion. What it was, was the 20th anniversary of the siege, the beginning of the siege of Sarajevo, and I don't like the word "anniversary," because it sounds like a party, and this was not a party. It was a very somber gathering of the reporters that worked there during the war, humanitarian aid workers, and of course the brave and courageous people of Sarajevo themselves. And the thing that struck me the most, that broke my heart, was walking down the main street of Sarajevo, where my friend Aida saw the tank coming 20 years ago, and in that road were more than 12,000 red chairs, empty, and every single one of them symbolized a person who had died during the siege, just in Sarajevo, not in all of Bosnia, and it stretched from one end of the city to a large part of it, and the saddest for me were the tiny little chairs for the children.
去年4月 我回到一個非常陌生的地方 我將它稱作瘋狂高中同學會 就是在圍城20週年紀念日那天 也是塞拉耶佛圍城戰開戰的那天 我不喜歡"周年紀念日"這個詞,因為聽起來像要開派對 這不是在開派對 當時氣氛非常沉重 盤踞在記者頭上 他們在戰爭期間在當地採訪 人權人士也很沉重 當然 塞拉耶佛勇敢強韌的人民也是 我最震驚的是 讓我心都碎了 沿著塞拉耶佛的大街走 20年前 我朋友Aida就是在那裡看到坦克車 就在那條路上擺著超過12000張紅椅子 是空的 每一張椅子都象徵 一位在圍城戰死亡的人 只有在塞拉耶佛有這項活動 不是波斯尼亞全國都有 活動範圍從城市裡的一部分 延伸到幾乎整座城市 看到很小張的椅子 我很難過 那是用來紀念小孩子的
I now cover Syria, and I started reporting it because I believed that it needs to be done. I believe a story there has to be told. I see, again, a template of the war in Bosnia. And when I first arrived in Damascus, I saw this strange moment where people didn't seem to believe that war was going to descend, and it was exactly the same in Bosnia and nearly every other country I've seen where war comes. People don't want to believe it's coming, so they don't leave, they don't leave before they can. They don't get their money out. They stay because you want to stay in your home. And then war and chaos descend.
我現在在敘利亞採訪 開始報導敘利亞戰爭 是因為我認為 有必要將事實傳達出來 我覺得有必要向世界傳達 在波斯尼亞,我又看見戰爭的前兆 我第一次去大馬士革 我看到一個很奇怪的景象 人們似乎不相信戰爭即將爆發 就跟波斯尼亞 和其他即將發生戰爭的國家都是一樣情況 人們不願相信戰爭即將開始 所以他們不願撤離 要堅守到最後一刻 不願將錢領出來 他們留下來 是因為想保護家園 隨後戰爭爆發 陷入一片混亂
Rwanda is a place that haunts me a lot. In 1994, I briefly left Sarajevo to go report the genocide in Rwanda. Between April and August, 1994, one million people were slaughtered. Now if those 12,000 chairs freaked me out with the sheer number, I want you just for a second to think of a million people. And to give you some example, I remember standing and looking down a road as far as I could see, at least a mile, and there were bodies piled twice my height of the dead. And that was just a small percentage of the dead. And there were mothers holding their children who had been caught in their last death throes.
我非常想念盧旺達 1994年 我暫時離開塞拉耶佛 前往盧旺達報導種族屠殺 1994年4月至8月 有100萬人遭到屠殺 如果那12000張椅子就嚇死我了 數量那麼多 想像一下 換做是100萬的犧牲者的話呢 給大家一個例子 我記得站起來 往下看著街上 我能看到的地方 至少有一英哩 都是屍體 堆起來比我的身高高兩倍 全都死了 這只占總死亡人數的一小部分 有媽媽還抱著自己小孩 她們自己都已經奄奄一息了
So we learn a lot from war, and I mention Rwanda because it is one place, like South Africa, where nearly 20 years on, there is healing. Fifty-six percent of the parliamentarians are women, which is fantastic, and there's also within the national constitution now, you're actually not allowed to say Hutu or Tutsi. You're not allowed to identify anyone by ethnicity, which is, of course, what started the slaughter in the first place. And an aid worker friend of mine told me the most beautiful story, or I find it beautiful. There was a group of children, mixed Hutus and Tutsis, and a group of women who were adopting them, and they lined up and one was just given to the next. There was no kind of compensation for, you're a Tutsi, you're a Hutu, you might have killed my mother, you might have killed my father. They were just brought together in this kind of reconciliation, and I find this remarkable. So when people ask me how I continue to cover war, and why I continue to do it, this is why.
從戰爭中 我們學到很多事情 我會提到盧旺達 因為它如同南非 戰爭持續了將近20多年 目前正在復元 國會議員有56%都是女性 這個現象還不錯 現在該國家憲法內也有相關規定 不能有胡圖族 圖西族之分 不能有種族歧視 就是因為有種族歧視 當初才有大屠殺 我有一位從事救援的朋友 告訴我一段很溫馨的故事 也許是我覺得很溫馨 有一群小孩 有的是胡圖族 有的是圖西族 和一群照顧他們的媽媽 他們排成一列 一個接一個 他們不求任何賠償 因為你是圖西族人 你是胡圖族人 可能殺了我媽媽 可能殺了我爸爸 他們只是心平氣和地團結在一起 我覺得很了不起 所以有人問我 在戰爭期間 我是怎麼採訪 為什麼要繼續當戰地記者? 這就是答案
When I go back to Syria, next week in fact, what I see is incredibly heroic people, some of them fighting for democracy, for things we take for granted every single day. And that's pretty much why I do it.
下星期我會回去敘利亞 事實上 我看到很多非常英勇的人 他們之中有人是為民主自由而戰 為我們每天視為理所當然的事情而戰 我會當記者 也差不多是因為這樣
In 2004, I had a little baby boy, and I call him my miracle child, because after seeing so much death and destruction and chaos and darkness in my life, this ray of hope was born. And I called him Luca, which means "The bringer of light," because he does bring light to my life. But I'm talking about him because when he was four months old, my foreign editor forced me to go back to Baghdad where I had been reporting all throughout the Saddam regime and during the fall of Baghdad and afterwards, and I remember getting on the plane in tears, crying to be separated from my son, and while I was there, a quite famous Iraqi politician who was a friend of mine said to me, "What are you doing here? Why aren't you home with Luca?" And I said, "Well, I have to see." It was 2004 which was the beginning of the incredibly bloody time in Iraq, "I have to see, I have to see what is happening here. I have to report it." And he said, "Go home, because if you miss his first tooth, if you miss his first step, you'll never forgive yourself. But there will always be another war."
2004年 我兒子出生 我把他稱做是希望之子 因為再看過這麼多死亡 毀滅、混亂和黑暗的場面之後 一絲希望出現了 我把他取名叫路卡 意思是"帶來希望的人" 因為他真的為我帶來希望 我會談到他 是因為在他4個月大時 我的外籍編輯叫我回去巴格達 我一直都有報導與薩達姆政權有關的事情 在政權垮台前後 我記得我哭著上飛機 我會哭是因為要跟兒子分開了 還在那裡的時候 我朋友是一位伊拉克相當知名的政治人物 他對我說"妳在這裡幹嘛?" "妳怎麼沒在家陪路卡" 我說"我必須親眼見證" 那年是2004年 也是伊拉克血腥時代的開端 "我必須親眼見證這裡即將發生的大事" "我要讓全世界都知道" 他說"妳趕快回家 因為如果妳錯過他長第一顆牙 沒看到他走的第一步 妳會非常後悔 但是世界上總會有戰爭發生"
And there, sadly, will always be wars. And I am deluding myself if I think, as a journalist, as a reporter, as a writer, what I do can stop them. I can't. I'm not Kofi Annan. He can't stop a war. He tried to negotiate Syria and couldn't do it. I'm not a U.N. conflict resolution person. I'm not even a humanitarian aid doctor, and I can't tell you the times of how helpless I've felt to have people dying in front of me, and I couldn't save them. All I am is a witness. My role is to bring a voice to people who are voiceless. A colleague of mine described it as to shine a light in the darkest corners of the world. And that's what I try to do. I'm not always successful, and sometimes it's incredibly frustrating, because you feel like you're writing into a void, or you feel like no one cares. Who cares about Syria? Who cares about Bosnia? Who cares about the Congo, the Ivory Coast, Liberia, Sierra Leone, all of these strings of places that I will remember for the rest of my life? But my métier is to bear witness and that is the crux, the heart of the matter, for us reporters who do this. And all I can really do is hope, not to policymakers or politicians, because as much as I'd like to have faith that they read my words and do something, I don't delude myself.
很不幸,戰爭隨時再發生 我對自己非常失望,我想身為一位新聞記者 戰地記者和作家 要怎麼做才能阻止戰爭,但我想不到 我不是科菲•安南 連他都沒辦法阻止 他試著與敘利亞政府協商 但還是沒辦法 我不是聯合國衝突解決的成員 也不是人道救援行動的醫生 我有很多次覺得非常無助,多到數不清 有人就在我面前死了,但是我沒辦法救他們 我只是一位目擊者 我的工作就是讓無法發言的人,有管道向外界發聲 我同事覺得這份工作就像一道希望之光 照亮世界最黑暗的角落 那也是我的理想 事情不可能都是一帆風順 有時候,真的讓人很沮喪 因為你會覺得好像寫了也沒用 大家都不在乎 誰會在意敘利亞?波斯尼亞? 誰會在意剛果共和國? 象牙海岸 賴比瑞亞 獅子山共和國 這一長串的所有地方 以後我還記得嗎? 但我的工作就是為他們做見證 這是很重要的關鍵,也是事件的核心 對我們這些紀錄戰地的記者來說 能做的就只有祈禱奇蹟發生 而不是去拜託政府高層或政治人物 因為我想盡可能 讓他們了解我說的話 做的事 我不會再欺騙自己
But what I do hope is that if you remember anything I said or any of my stories tomorrow morning over breakfast, if you can remember the story of Sarajevo, or the story of Rwanda, then I've done my job.
我真的很希望 大家能夠記住我說的話 或今天的故事,明天早上吃完早餐還記得的話 如果你還記得塞拉耶佛的故事 或盧旺達的故事 我就不枉到此演說了
Thank you very much.
謝謝大家
(Applause)
(掌聲)