International mediator, researcher and former delegate of the Red Cross in Central America



 His biography is the story of the last 30 years of wars and conflicts. From the Rwandan genocide, through the Taliban's rise to power, to the missing in Mexico. Jordi Raich (Barcelona, ​​1963) returns to the city where he was born for the presentation of the documentary "Negotiators: com construir la pau", which features the work done at the International Committee of the Red Cross. 


Why do we have wars?


— I think it's part of human nature. The history we study and our borders have been built through marriages or wars. 


Have they changed over the years?


— Lately, we used to say that the classic wars between two parties no longer existed, because we were mainly encountering internal conflicts, with armed groups without hierarchy, which fight for motivations that are not ideological. But in the midst of this paradigm comes the war in Ukraine: a classic book war.


A classic war does not mean that it is a simpler conflict.


— No, not necessarily. But from the point of view of our work, it is easier to identify who you need to talk to, whether it is to manage access to a hospital or to request that a front line be lowered to cross it. Because organized armies with ranks intervene in these conflicts. 


Are there bridges between Russia and Ukraine right now? 


- For sure. There are always bridges. And many are not useful for finding a way out of the conflict, but they are important for making humanitarian corridors, preventing the use of nuclear weapons, etc. 




Are you surprised by what happened?


— I'm surprised it lasted so long. And it will go on even longer because conflicts usually fester in the winter. It is a time when the population survives as best they can and the different parties that are in conflict take advantage of this to recruit, rest and buy weapons. And when spring comes and the snow melts, they start again with more force. 


We have many chronic conflicts.


— Conflicts are chronicled because war becomes a means of life, the only industry, and grandchildren have less education than grandparents, because they were born in war and could never go to school. This happened in Afghanistan: the grandfathers were agricultural engineers and the grandsons were Taliban, completely ignorant.


Where peace has been achieved is in Colombia. How do negotiations start for you?


— December 2011. I receive a call from the presidency of Juan Manuel Santos, they tell me that they have had contact with the FARC guerrillas and that they want to start a peace process. Cuba had offered to put the space up, but they needed to get the guerrillas out of the secret camps in the jungle and bring them there. They asked us to take them there and that ended up leading to some surreal meetings. 


For example?


— A trip to Venezuela, to Caracas. They blindfolded me and put me in a helicopter. I didn't know where I was going. After an hour or so we arrived at a wonderful ranch and found ourselves at a table having lunch with two representatives of the presidency of Colombia, two Norwegians, two Cubans, two men from the FARC and me. We spent three days trying to get the FARC to accept that we would take them to Cuba. We smoked and drank a lot. After three days we signed what would be the first operation. It always worked the same way: we would take them out of the jungle, from there we would go to a local airport and take a small plane to Cuba. 




What tension in such a small space, right?


— At first it was tense, but then, little by little, you saw them jogging together in Cuba. There are things that if I could have photographed I would have been paid millions. Most importantly, the conversations were secret. And the agreement, mind you, how difficult it was, was that they would continue waging war as if nothing had happened. The army killed the leader of the FARC, and the FARC made a public show, but they went to Cuba. And later the FARC killed all the soldiers in a military camp. Santos called them terrorists, but government representatives went to Cuba. It was here that I saw that there was a real will, that they were willing to keep talking until the end.


Where were you the day peace was announced?


— In Mogadishu. I had closed the stage in Colombia and an invitation from President Santos to go to Cartagena de Indias for the signing of the peace agreement reached me in one of our planes. I was very happy. I was also sad, because I couldn't go to the firm, by protocol it was up to the colleague who had replaced me. But I keep the invitation with affection, I have it framed. 


What is a good deal?


— What works, what the parties consider fair. 


And can it be forgiven?


- Think so. In the former Yugoslavia, after the tensions, it was seen how many people moved forward. It is not forgotten, but it is moved on. In this country of ours we still talk about rojos and nationals. This is not forgotten, but it does not mean that it cannot be forgiven and lived with. The worst part is when you start having leaders who manipulate these stories and boil them back to create tension. 



You have an obligation to talk to everyone. How do you talk to executioners?


— Executioners are people. They have a wife and children, and they love each other. I'm not saying they're good people, but it's not my job to judge them for that. If you don't talk to the executioner, you won't be able to resolve the conflict. I have spoken to many people who have ended up convicted in The Hague. Like former Liberian president Charles Taylor, convicted of war crimes. You can't do this job if you can't shake hands with people like Taylor. 


Who was the hardest to talk to?


— Surely with the Taliban. In the late 1990s I managed to meet with the person responsible for a massacre against the Hazaras, an ethnic group in central Afghanistan. He assured me that he respected human rights. I asked him if that was how they could kill so many defenseless people. And he replied: "It's just that the Hazaras are not human, they don't have human rights." One of the great tools of any war is the dehumanization of the enemy. 


What toll does a life and work like this take?


- I do not know. This is a very individual journey. I have learned to manage anxiety and fear. I always compare it to the work of a surgeon: would you want to be operated on by a surgeon who is afraid of blood or does not sleep the day before because of nerves? I do not. Well it's the same. You learn to sleep the day before you go to pick up abductees. 


What is the most painful?


— Colleagues killed. And also the kidnappings. One of the most difficult I remember is that of two French colleagues in Sudan. Not so much because of the kidnapping management but because your team expects you to behave well and not look nervous. But what makes me proud is that after we solved this case an extraordinary doctor who was there with us came and said, "Jordi, if one day I get kidnapped, I want you to handle it." 


And a moment you are proud of?


— Reunify creatures with their parents. If you don't live it, you don't know what it is. Having a child for 10 years in a center, and suddenly we find his parents on the other side of South Sudan, and we take a small plane just for the child, take him there and reunite him with his parents. incredible 


Now you are in Japan, and in principle you will retire in a year. Are you ready to quit your job?


— Yes, because I like to write, I like to take photographs, I like many things. And above all, I want to travel without time, like a nomad and without a return ticket.