Silas Martyr
Silas Siakor put his life on the line to save Liberia's forests
By MICHELLE NIJHUIS
24 Apr 2006
The forests of the West African nation of Liberia cover almost 12 million
acres, and are home to nearly half of Africa's mammal species -- including
the region's largest forest-elephant population. But these forests, and the
communities that call them home, have been ravaged by 14 years of brutal
civil war. Liberian President Charles Taylor used timber to fund much of
that violence, entering into illegal logging contracts with a favored company.
Private militias hired by the logging industry exacerbated the country's already
enormous suffering, in some cases destroying entire villages.
Silas Kpanan'Ayoung Siakor.
Photo: Goldman Environmental Prize.
Silas Kpanan'Ayoung Siakor, the director of the Sustainable Development
Institute in Liberia, risked his life to collect evidence of falsified logging
records, illegal logging practices, and arms smuggling associated with the
timber industry. He gave this evidence to the United Nations Security Council,
which imposed an international ban on the export of Liberian timber -- part
of a series of trade sanctions still in place.
Though Siakor was forced to flee the country in 2003, he returned in 2004,
after Taylor's ouster, and is working with the country's new leadership on
national timber policy reform. Liberia's current president, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf,
has cancelled all of the country's timber concessions, and has said that new
contracts will not be issued until reforms are in place.
Siakor, 36, was awarded one of six 2006 Goldman Environmental Prizes at
a ceremony in San Francisco on April 24. He spoke to Grist from
San Francisco.

How did you first become aware of the illegal logging taking place in Liberia?

Back in 2000, when I started work on these issues, I was primarily working
on my organization's newsletter. Part of my responsibility was to go out into
the field and try to get an understanding of what the situation was like,
what the logging activities were like. The more I went out and talked with
people, and saw logging actually taking place, the more I was drawn to the
issue. So in 2001, I began to work full-time on logging.

How did you discover and expose the link between illegal logging and civil
war in Liberia?

It was public knowledge within Liberia at the time. All we did was pull
the information together, organize it, and present it to [NGOs] and influential
policymakers who were working outside of Liberia. That paved the way for more
dialogue and more discussion of these issues.

What made you personally decide to take action?
Photographing logs being salvaged by ANA
Wood in Rivercess, Liberia.
Photos: Courtesy of Silas Siakor.

As I went out more and more to talk with people, their stories were just
very disheartening, traumatic in a way. I talked to villagers whose houses
had been destroyed by logging companies in order to build roads through their
villages, women who had been harassed and intimidated by militias belonging
to those companies, and individuals who had been arrested and detained by
the different militias belonging to the companies. So it kind of challenged
us to ask ourselves, "What can we do to change this situation?" Even though
it was a fairly difficult thing to do, we felt somebody had to do it.

It sounds extraordinarily dangerous. What gave you the courage to take such
enormous risks?

When you experience the level of poverty, the level of humiliation, the
widespread human-rights abuses that are being perpetrated against these people,
it makes it really difficult to turn back, in spite of the risks associated
with trying to bring the issue up. So we saw it as a calling, in a way. We
felt we had to stand up and say, "This isn't right, this has to stop."

Were you or your allies threatened directly?

In our everyday work, we had to live with the fear that when [the information
we were gathering] became public knowledge within Liberia, it would have very
serious implications. That fear was always there. When we published our report
in September 2002, that brought the issue to the forefront. Once, when [Taylor]
granted a radio interview, he went off track and made very threatening comments
about our work. He said that if he were ever so fortunate to lay hands on
the individuals who published that report, their families would have to mourn
their loss. The words he used were that their families "would have to wear
black," which in typical Liberian parlance means that that person will be
killed. The president himself said this.
A couple of weeks later, the Senate summoned us to
explain the motive behind the preparation of the report -- not to discuss
the content, or the issues we were raising, just our motives. They were very,
very harsh in their response, and the debate in the Senate was characterized
by a lot of very threatening comments by different senators.
Most of the opinion leaders that we talked with at
that time said it wasn't really safe to go forward and play hero. So I left
the country in 2003, and stayed away until 2004.

If you had stayed, do you think you would have been harmed?

There was no question about that whatsoever. Just listening to the comments
that were thrown across the floor by the Senate, just getting a feel for the
intensity of debate, the level of comments being made, there is no doubt in
my mind what would have happened. Some of those who dared to challenge the
system in the past actually lost their lives. Some of them went to jail. So
I can only imagine what would have happened to me if I had stayed.

Where did you go when you left?

I had to go hang out in Sierra Leone, which ironically was one of the countries
deeply affected by Taylor's war activities in Liberia. After a while, I moved
on to Cote d'Ivoire -- and then Cote d'Ivoire became embroiled in a conflict,
which was again promoted by Charles Taylor. So I was just running around in
the West African subregion. My family was still back in Liberia, so day in
and day out I had to just think about them, and stay in telephone contact
with them. They laid low and things went OK, and we are all very happy that
we can be together again.

What do you consider your greatest victories so far?

All that has happened as a result of this work is a very, very powerful
indication that when there is something wrong in your community, you can
make a difference by standing up.
Siakor trains a team to document illegal
timber.
Two of the logging barons that were very involved with Charles Taylor and
the timber-for-arms trade are in jail now. One is standing trial in The Hague
for crimes against humanity, and for violating international law and the
United Nations arms embargo on Liberia. Charles Taylor himself is personally
behind bars, and will be standing trial in the next couple of months. All
the timber companies have lost their concessions -- as we speak, no timber
company has any claim whatsoever to an inch of Liberian territory.
When I look back, I think that all of these things,
in many different ways, carry their own significance for me.

What has the election of President Johnson-Sirleaf meant for your work?

She has made some very positive moves. She has acted very boldly to cancel
all [timber] concessions, at our insistence. She has put together a committee
to look at the industry in a holistic manner, and come up with a blueprint
for how things can be turned around for the benefit of the country. For the
first time, we have been asked by the government to play a very active role
in that entire process.
We are kind of cautious at this point, staying aware
of the fact that she is a politician, and most of the time political agenda
or interests can override the environment and human rights. We are giving
her the benefit of the doubt, but we are very conscious that we have to stand
firm and maintain our position on some of the critical issues.

What does this prize mean to you?

To be quite honest, I haven't really come to terms with the fact that I've
been awarded this prize [laughs]. But it is going to raise the profile of
our work in a lot of ways. It is going to add credibility for what we did,
for what we stood up for. It tells people that even if what you do doesn't
appear to be that big, a lot of people can value it very much. I think it
will be a source of inspiration for a lot of people back in Liberia.

What do you plan to do with the money?

I've been talking about this a lot with my colleagues, and one thing we've
agreed on in principle is to use the money to strengthen the communities we
are working with -- those communities most impacted by the illegal logging
activities. We want to work with them to help them find their own feet, their
own voices, so that we don't always have to be there to talk on their behalf.

What do you hope Liberia will be like 10 years from now?
We hope that local communities in the forest region will have a very strong
say in how natural resources are managed, particularly the forests on which
they depend. We hope for a Liberia in which multinationals, especially those
in the timber industry, will do all they can to respect environmental standards,
and that their extraction practices will not unnecessarily degrade our forests.
We hope for a Liberia in which our culture and traditional practices will
be respected by our central government, and by the multinationals that come
to extract resources from there.
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Michelle Nijhuis is a
freelance writer in Paonia, Colo., and the winner of the 2006 Walter Sullivan
Award for Excellence in Science Journalism. |