c. 2000 Religion News Service

(UNDATED) _ In 14 years helping humanitarian aid workers in some of the world’s most battle-scarred countries, John Schenk had never faced this ordeal.

The nonstop interrogation by his masked captors. The hood blocking sunlight and fresh air from his face and lungs. The handcuffs that gripped his wrists.

“I felt claustrophobic, like I had no control,” said Schenk, a communications specialist with the Christian humanitarian aid agency World Vision. “A lot of us had nightmares that night.”

Schenk’s nightmare was a fictional one, part of a five-day World Vision safety training workshop intended to teach humanitarian aid workers how to cope with violent attacks and similar crisis they could encounter while working abroad.

But for many of Schenk’s colleagues in conflict zones around the globe, the nightmare is no illusion. Often dispatched to the world’s most volatile regions, humanitarian aid workers have increasingly found themselves prey for attack _ a plight underscored by the stabbing deaths of three U.N. aid workers in West Timor early in September.

Their deaths followed violent attacks on dozens of their counterparts at faith-based humanitarian and development groups in countries from Colombia to Kosovo to Sierra Leone. In January, two relief workers for Catholic Relief Services came under fire when rebels in Sudan peppered their vehicle with 19 bullets.

No one was injured in that attack, but in the following months aid workers at Catholic Relief Services, World Relief and other agencies faced abduction, robbery, bombings, and evacuations _ each attack a grim reminder that sometimes those charged with helping and protecting others need protection themselves.

“More and more aid workers are being deliberately targeted,” said Charles Rogers, who led the training course Schenk attended and is one of the few full-time security directors at a humanitarian relief group. “There was a time when international aid workers were protected by their symbols _ like the red cross, if people saw that cross then they wouldn’t bother the workers. But that’s no longer the case. Instead of looking upon aid workers as neutral deliverers of humanitarian aid, some groups in conflict areas are looking at them as just another faction in the fighting. And if aid workers have something they want, they will take it, and kill if they have to.”

Which is why three times a year Rogers directs World Vision’s safety training courses, driving home through lectures and role-playing the safety skills that could mean the difference between life or death: Avoid traveling alone. Let colleagues know when and where and with whom you travel. Follow well-traveled paths to avoid landmines.

“In this line of work you’re always taking chances,” said Schenk. “You never know where an attack is going to come from, so it’s good to have pointers like these before you go. The more you’re prepared for anything that could happen the better off you’ll be.”

Those same lessons are taught during orientation for new relief workers at CARE (Cooperative for Assistance and Relief Everywhere), a private humanitarian agency that saw two relief workers killed in Sudan earlier this year and two others held hostage for two months. The organization has stationed permanent security trainers in its offices in Kosovo, Albania, Sri Lanka and Burundi, and routinely sends others to more than a dozen more countries to lead classes.

“As a humanitarian worker, you really don’t have anything to defend yourself with,” said Bob Macpherson, a security analyst who is the organization’s assistant director of emergency. “So we take them through all the possible scenarios _ we show them what they should do if there is a bombing, how to react to a holdup or being taken hostage. The key is knowing in advance what options they have in a crisis situation.”

Knowing those options came in handy for World Vision staffer Talmage Payne when he coordinated the evacuation of World Vision staff from the Solomon Islands in June after civil unrest erupted. He attended Rogers’ class twice.

“I was a lot more self-confident and trusted my own judgment more,” said Payne, remembering the first evacuation effort he helped organize three years before in Cambodia. “So much of good security is making the right judgments at the right time, and the course definitely sharpened my own judgment _ I didn’t have to rely on calling people all the time for help.”

Security can be a delicate matter for aid workers, who don’t rely upon the protective gear and equipment soldiers often have, said Ken Hackett, executive director of Catholic Relief Services.

“If you’re going to reach out to the people who are most helpless you can’t block yourself behind a barricade,” said Hackett, noting one of the agency’s aid workers in West Timor was recently saved from harm because local people warned the group that armed men were searching for him. “You have to go out into the community, and that does put you in harm’s way a lot of the time. But we definitely don’t want to alarm the community by arming ourselves.”

One of the relief worker’s best protections against attack is the respect and trust of the communities they serve, said Rogers.

“Our first line of defense is the local people we work with,” he said. “The more that local people know and respect the aid workers serving them, the better off they’ll be.”

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Schenk agreed.

“I know from my own experiences that a good relationship with local people will save your life,” said Schenk, who has been held up at gunpoint several times at roadblocks overseas. “A smile at a roadblock can go a long way.”

Humanitarian work is never without some degree of risk, said Hackett, but that threat of danger can’t be allowed to undermine relief efforts for those facing grim circumstances.

“The key is to make sure everyone is prepared for whatever situation they may have to face,” said Hackett. “You have to stand with the people against the violence; you can’t just run away. That would be letting the bad guys win.”

DEA END DANCY