Paul Rusesabagina Remarks, 2011 Lantos Prize

My dear friends of the Lantos Foundation for Human Rights, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, please help me to thank Ms. Katrina Lantos Swett and the entire staff and Board Members of the Lantos Foundation for their conviction to human rights. They have stood up to threats and protests designed to silence our pleas for human rights and freedom in my beloved Rwanda.

My dear friends, distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, I am deeply, deeply humbled to receive the prestigious Lantos Foundation Human Rights Award. I am an ordinary man. I feel incredibly honored to be elevated to the same class as His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Professor Elie Wiesel, who have received this award before me. Please help me to thank these 2 distinguished and towering figures who have contributed so much to the advancement of humanity. (Applause) They are now high on the list of my mentors, and I hope they will be kind enough to share with me their precious knowledge and wisdom. As I receive this award, I ask you join me in committing to the idea that never again must mean never again.

In 1994, I watched my country dissolve into chaos and mayhem.  I was a hotel manager, not a soldier nor a politician. Still, I listened to the little voice inside me, my conscience, and tried to do everything that I could to stop the violence and to shelter the 1,268 who had come to my hotel for shelter. Some who at first could pay, some who just ran to us for safety, but we all made it through hell.  I am proud to say that the Milles Collines Hotel was the only public place in Rwanda where no one died, no one was beaten and everyone who sought shelter made it through the Genocide alive.

Today I tell my story – the story of those who died during the terrible genocide in Rwanda in 1994. Over 400,000 Tutsis. Another 400,000 Hutus. I try to provide a voice to the voiceless. As you may know, a humanitarian can often measure his success by how harshly his work is criticized, and my critics often say that I deny the genocide. Nothing can be further from the truth. I am here as a living testament to that genocide. To those who died. To provide testimony about the horrible people in that Hutu elite government, in the military, and in the militias who caused those deaths. The genocide was a terrible, defining moment in my life and in that of my country. And it must not be forgotten.

17 years after the genocide , we don’t have two armies fighting to the death for power control, nor do we have roving gangs of militiamen killing innocent villagers by the thousands every 10 minutes. We have a country that, on the surface, appears to be peaceful. But it is a country with no space for political dissent or real democratic action. The potential violence is just below the surface.  As the human rights abuses spread and media suppression grows, things get more dangerous. I am calling upon the international community to work with me for a truth and reconciliation process to break the historic cycle of violence in Rwanda and replace it with sustainable peace.

But what I have found over the years is that Rwanda has unfortunately not changed so much. The leaders who caused the genocide are now gone, and this is an excellent thing. But Rwanda has new leaders now, and as we say in Kinyarwanda, the dancers have changed, but the music stays the same.

Now I spend my time as a humanitarian. Reminding people that we must never forget. And saddened that we forget all too often.

In addition to talking about 1994, I also cannot stay silent about what is happening in Rwanda today. Freedom of speech and freedom of the press do not exist. Political oppression is the norm. Opposition leaders are arrested and killed. Today in Rwanda, leaders insist that a dictatorship is necessary to safeguard the people. In fact, as with all dictatorship it only serves to safeguard itself.

And the current government – the government that we all believed in 1994 had saved Rwanda from the genocide – is now responsible for unthinkable violence next door in the Congo. Over six million people dead in a war driven by conflict minerals. With so much that the United Nations says that war crimes have been committed by the current Rwandan government. Crimes against humanity. And possibly even a new genocide.

I see my native country, the home of my heart, and I cannot stay silent. I fear that it is now a dormant volcano, waiting to erupt again.

As Katrina knows only too well, raising my voice comes at a price. During the genocide I and my family were often in terrible danger. Now, I am threatened once again on a regular basis.

It seems that authoritarian leaders do not appreciate the work of humanitarians. And sometimes they will go to extreme means to stop it. But the preparation for this award has made me realize though that I am not alone. I want to very much thank Katrina and everyone at the Lantos Foundation not just for this award, but for their support in recent weeks. As the Rwandan government and its advocates tried to silence my voice, they were steadfast in standing up for what was right. In standing up for free speech, and for the prospect of truth, reconciliation and peace in my native Rwanda. They stood up for the power of words to heal our differences. With a few more people like those at the Lantos Foundation, the world will be a much better place.

In closing, I would like to leave you with the words of a great man, Mr. Albert Einstein. He said:

“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.”

I hope you will join me in saying that never again must mean never again. I hope you will join me in doing something when we see evil. In confronting it. I hope you will join me in being ordinary people, who take every opportunity to do the right thing.

I thank you all for listening to my words today. And I thank the Lantos Foundation from the bottom of my heart for this award. Thank you.