Inclusive Security: Women Waging Peace Policy Day 2003
Remarks by Ambassador George F. Ward, Jr.
November 7, 2024

Good morning. I’m very happy to have the opportunity to participate once again in Policy Day. I bring greetings from Dick Solomon, President of the United States Institute of Peace, and Harriet Hentges, our Executive Vice President and Chief Operating Officer.

As one of those who sat around Swanee’s table in the spring of 1999 to begin planning the first Inclusive Security: Women Waging Peace colloquium, I’m especially gratified to see that this initiative has not only survived, but has prospered. USIP is proud to have been one of Waging’s launch supporters. We provided training and facilitation programs for the first four colloquia, joining with a team of wonderful women from places near and far. The Institute’s grants program was also an early supporter of the initiative. We have watched Waging grow, beginning with those early days in which it was hard to tell where you were going to end up. Like every other observer, I’ve been impressed by the way in which you have “kept on keeping on,” adjusting course, developing, always with a clear plan in mind. Along the way, you have carved out a reputation and a role. You have brought issues of women in conflict and women as peacemakers to the attention of the most senior policymakers in Washington and many other capitals throughout the world.

In thinking about today’s events, I recalled the dozens and dozens of outstanding women leaders whom I have met in previous colloquia. The contacts that the Institute has made through the Waging colloquia have inspired us. More than that, they have been a source of valuable partners in our programs around the world.

In the past days, however, I found my thoughts dominated by three images. For me, they summarize the tragedy of war and the promise of Inclusive Security: Women Waging Peace.

My first image is one of despair. It takes me back to 1968, when I was a young Marine captain in Vietnam. I commanded a group of Vietnamese scouts who served in Marine units. What was special about them is that all of them were former enemy soldiers who had thrown their lot in with us. In return, we pledged that we would take care of them and, if they lost their lives, we would take care of their families. Too often, I had the duty of fulfilling the latter commitment. On one occasion, I had the task of bringing a fallen scout home to his family in a remote, insecure village. I brought with me the means to arrange a dignified funeral and a relatively large death benefit. All of that meant nothing to the young widow, who was inconsolable. The image of her grief, her despair - literally draped over her husband’s coffin -- has stayed with me ever since as a symbol of one of the most difficult burdens that women bear in war.

The second image is of much more recent vintage. It is from the last days of April of this year, when I made my first visit to the office of the International Committee of the Red Cross in Baghdad. This noble organization had stayed in Iraq throughout the conflict, trying to fulfill its mission of caring for civilians affected by the war. As I passed through the gatehouse of the ICRC building, I found my way blocked by a crowd of Iraqis. When I said, “Excuse me,” a woman turned around. She smiled at me. She held up a photograph and said, in perfect English, “This is my son. He has been missing since the war with Iran. Isn’t he handsome? He must be all grown up by now.” She smiled again. In that moment, her wrinkled face, with hopeful eyes, was for me the image of every mother who ever sent her soldier son off to war. I mumbled some encouraging words and passed on my way, knowing that her son would almost surely not return. The next day, we learned that Iran was sending back to Baghdad the last group of a couple of dozen Iraqi prisoners of war. I learned that the woman’s son was not among them. The image here of that proud and hopeful, yet powerless, woman will never fade in my mind..

The third image goes back to 1997, when I was ambassador in Namibia. Women there were at war, not with an army, but with sexual violence inflicted on them and their children. They heard daily reports of horrible rapes of seemingly ever-younger children. To help in this situation, the embassy used our democracy and human rights funds to support a multi-faceted, women-run initiative against sexual violence. When the news arrived that a two year-old girl had been raped, the women and men leading this initiative decided that enough was enough. They called for a mass demonstration against sexual violence - an unusual act in this rather conservative country. Thousands of people turned out in an inspiring outpouring of anger and solidarity. The leaders of the initiative were empowered and emboldened. Soon, they were able to sway parliament to change laws, to convince judges to do more than just slap rapists’ wrists, and to force the government to establish institutions to protect threatened women and children. When Namibia’s president went on television to condemn domestic violence, these powerful women knew they had won a victory.

I’ll never forget the image of their joy and pride. They had succeeded in changing the course of a nation. On a larger scale, I believe that Inclusive Security: Women Waging Peace is accomplishing the same thing - changing the way in which policymakers look on women in conflict, helping women learn from each other’s experiences, and empowering them. The initiative is proving that despair and powerlessness can be transformed into hope and achievement. Please know that as you move forward, you will continue to have the support of the Institute of Peace.

Thank you.

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