Will the Nightmare End?

Problems at the Prison

1999 began with Lori still in solitary confinement. After Christmas she was not permitted to attend Mass or otherwise interact with the prison population. In addition, the officials at Socabaya were not familiar with the rules regarding maximum-security political prisoners, and Lori found herself under more stringent regulations than she had been at Yanamayo—and subjected to regulations that often seemed arbitrary and changed from day to day.

When I visited her on January 16, I learned that the prison staff had rotated and the new staff did not engage Lori in conversation. Although the Red Cross told us that they expected an agreement from prison authorities in Lima to have Lori spend her one-hour patio time with other prisoners, it never came about. The only conversations Lori had in the three weeks since my previous visit were with an army colonel who came to question her about cats. Yes, cats. As I wrote in my report to Mary Grandfield,

At my December visit, Lori had given me (with the stamp of approval of the prison authorities) knitting instructions she had designed herself for patterns of cats. The following week she was visited by an army colonel who questioned her about this—why were there graphs and numbers, and how was it connected to the painting I had brought her that had a cat in it? Nobody had a copy of these cat patterns. Lori had given me the only copy, and the prison official who raised suspicions about them did not, to our knowledge, make a copy. Lori did, however, have books of knitting instructions and explained to the colonel why there are graphs and numbers. She also explained that everyone knows she loves cats and that she had also received a calendar with cat photos and her mother's letters are always signed with a picture of two cats. The colonel seemed satisfied with her answers.

I attached one of the suspicious cat patterns to Mary’s letter for her amusement, but reminded her "in the past equally bizarre things have been used by the Peruvian government to point to supposed wrongdoing by Lori." Sure enough, many weeks later prison officials said the cat pattern was an escape plan.

On January 22, Amnesty International issued a second Urgent Action Alert stating that, based on the evidence, they believed "the Peruvian authorities have singled [Lori] out for punishment." They added, "The conditions under which Lori Berenson is imprisoned contravene . . . the U.N. Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, to which Peru is a state party. If the Peruvian authorities are serious about following both the spirit and the letter of international as well as domestic law then Lori Berenson’s isolation has to end immediately."

On January 29, after one hundred fifteen days, thanks to the efforts of Amnesty International, the Red Cross, the Catholic Church, and U.S. Embassy, Lori’s isolation ended when four other prisoners were moved to Lori’s wing of the prison. One was a Shining Path prisoner, two were repentants, and the fourth had been recently arrested and was soon found innocent and released. Lori was permitted to spend her patio time, which had been increased to two hours for all maximum-security prisoners, with these women. Lori was no longer in solitary confinement, but she was still alone most of the time, and her problems were far from over. The repentants thought they would gain favor with the authorities by making life miserable for Lori, and some of the guards thought it would help their advancement if they did the same.

That was apparently why the colonel had come to ask Lori about the knitting pattern. On March 19, newspapers in Peru and the United States reported that prison authorities claimed to have found plans to attack the jail, and the plot implicated Lori. The guard who "discovered" the knitting plans, or prison officials in Arequipa, had decided, two months later, to go to the press. The embassy was aware this was ridiculous and told Reuters, "We have heard of the reports of the rumors and we understand that there is nothing to them and that they are false." Security was increased around the prison, and President Fujimori in a press conference assured the Peruvian public that they needn’t fear, all was under control, he would not allow Lori to escape. Lori was told it was decided the drawings were an escape plan because the cats’ ears were pointing up—or down—or maybe it was the tails.

At each visit Lori had another story of rumors and accusations that were being circulated by the repentants or prison guards. Whenever there was a problem at the prison, officials seemed to find a way to blame it on Lori—increased security, delayed mail, limited visits from church personnel—all Lori’s fault. When an earthquake of over six on the Richter scale struck Arequipa, Mark sent the following as part of our e-mail update: "Peru is the land of the llama, coca, and a government with a wild imagination! We make no association between the coca and the government's wild imagination. However, we expect that the next rumor to circulate will be that Lori was the cause of the April 3 earthquake—why not, she is being blamed for everything else. Well, almost everything else—the government forgot to blame Lori for the El Nino weather phenomenon"

But the Peruvian imagination was even wilder and more malicious than we foresaw, and the next rumor was no laughing matter.

I was visiting again in April and saw Lori on Saturday morning. That evening, Mary Grandfield called to ask if Lori was okay. She said there were rumors that Lori was injured. I assured her that as of that morning she was fine. After hanging up I started to worry. Had something happened since my morning visit? But the prison authorities knew where I was staying—wouldn’t they have called if there were a problem? But why did Mary sound so vague about "injuries"—what kind of injuries?

The Sunday morning newspaper reported that Lori was dead. She had burned to death in a probable suicide. I called Mark to tell him to ignore any rumors. I rushed to the prison. I insisted on seeing Lori, even though it was Sunday, a day for "men only" to visit. I showed the officials the newspaper article and told them that the U.S. Embassy said I must see Lori and verify that she was alive. They allowed me to see her for five minutes. Lori had not yet heard the news of her death, and she became worried. Did Papa Al (my ninety-six- year-old father) hear this on the radio? News like that could kill him. Or what if Kathy or anybody Lori knew heard this awful report? And what if I hadn’t been in Peru to assure myself she was alive? And we were both furious. Who could have started such a rumor? And why? The next day President Fujimori once again addressed the press about Lori, noting, "This is one more rumor, when the truth is she is enjoying good health."

Mr. Fujimori was right about her death being only a rumor but wrong about the good health. Her health had stabilized since coming to Socabaya, but her hands remained purple and her face remained red, both due to broken and clogged capillaries. She still had problems with her eyes, and since her time was occupied by vision-intensive activity—reading, drawing, writing, knitting—this seriously affected her well-being.

Lori was still essentially alone, and harassment was increasing. The repentants first accused Lori of death threats. Then they were allowed to work in the prison kitchen with access to ten-inch chopping knives, a situation that caused Lori to fear they would provoke an incident and try to harm her. Officials interfered with the mail. From March through June, although the letters we brought were given to Lori, she did not receive any mail that was sent directly to the prison nor was that mail, including books and gifts returned to senders. It disappeared. The prison was very tense, and one report I sent to the embassy began with, "This visit found Lori extremely agitated due to continued harassment from prison officials and other prisoners. She asked us to visit more often. She also requests that the U.S. Embassy arrange to speak with her by telephone. In general a regular schedule should be arranged but in the next few weeks she asked for calls at least once a week until the tension in the prison subsides."

Lori’s letters to friends revealed both her frustrations and her will to overcome them. In an April letter that was reprinted in part in the Albany Catholic Worker, she wrote:

I was in a jail [Yanamayo] where the physical conditions were much worse than this one [Socabaya] . . . but I never felt like I do now even though I have been through very difficult times. But what can I do? I have to gather strength from those who went before me and had to suffer worse conditions than mine.

I have a picture of Archbishop Romero and another of two little orphans. I find strength watching them. I trust this situation won’t last too long and when remembering what our Uruguayan brothers have been through, I may even consider myself lucky. . . .

I believe what a prisoner in the Spanish Civil War said, "In the darkest hour of the night you can always glimpse the brightest dawn."

It was hard for Mark and me to decide where best to put our efforts. Visiting Lori every two weeks sapped one or the other of us of energy during and after the exhausting trip. We were also traveling to Washington to lobby members of Congress. And we were organizing The Committee to Free Lori Berenson. Everything seemed important. We had to visit Lori. We had to lobby. We had to organize. Where would we find the time?

What helped enormously were all the messages of support we received. One hears so much about the greed and selfishness of the "me" generation. But thousands of people—rich, poor, young, old, total strangers, and close friends, from all parts of the country and all walks of life—wrote or called and asked, "What can I do to help?" People we never met stood on street corners and collected signatures or handed out flyers, wrote to Lori, or sent us notes of cheer. But we needed to mobilize and organize this support to work cohesively, delivering a consistent message and focusing on the major strategies.

Ramsey was still our main adviser, and our goal was still to convince President Clinton, directly or through Congress, to secure Lori’s release. But we needed advice on how best to get everyone working to achieve that goal. We looked through our lists of supporters, chose about twenty from around the country who had expressed interest in devoting more time to our efforts, and asked them to coordinate activities in their geographic regions. We also formed a steering committee of human rights activists who were willing to share their expertise.

We met Blase and Theresa Bonpane, directors of Office of the Americas (ooa) when that organization honored Lori with an award in November 1997. The ooa under the leadership of the Bonpanes had fought human rights abuses in Latin America for many years. They knew how to reach out for new support, arrange for delegations to foreign countries, and raise funds. They introduced us to James Lafferty, Executive Director of the Los Angeles Chapter of the National Lawyers Guild, who helped us form an advisory board of well-known persons that would help build support.

Through the Bonpanes we also met Frederica (Freddie) Schrider, who championed Latin-American causes in Washington, D.C. She in turn introduced us to Grahame Russell, a Canadian lawyer and director of Rights Action/Guatemala Partners, a nongovernmental organization that supported community-based development projects and human rights work in Guatemala, Southern Mexico, and Honduras. Freddie and Grahame had experience organizing demonstrations in D.C., sponsoring delegations to foreign countries, arranging speaking tours, and applying for grants.

Bob McIndoe worked for many years on outreach projects for the First Congregational Church of Winchester, Massachusetts. He had read about Lori, met with us, and became immediately involved. He was interested in drawing the business and education community into our struggle, and had many ideas for outreach and publicity.

Kristen Gardner was Lori’s roommate at M.I.T. and was one of Lori’s closest friends. Kristen had already organized events and speaking engagements to build up support for Lori in Northern California. She was interested in grassroots organizing and offered to help focus the regional coordinators. Blase, Theresa, Jim, Freddie, Grahame, Bob, and Kristen formed the steering committee.

And we had a new webmaster, Ken Dubberly, who took over the website started by Jim Salem and continued by Bill Wedermeyer, Lori’s friends from M.I.T. The web was crucial in providing information about Lori and telling supporters how they could help. The first thing Ken did was change the web address to one that was easier to remember: .

We met with members of the steering committee and many of the regional coordinators over a cold and icy weekend in Washington in January 1999. It was really incredible to see so many people whom we had spoken with or written to but never had met. It was a long weekend of work and fun.

Tom and Ramsey had come to discuss legal issues and strategic goals. Grahame led a discussion on sending delegations to Peru. Theresa and Kristen had a workshop on grassroots organizing, and there were discussion groups on reaching the media, fundraising, and developing alternative strategies. Monday was January 11, the third anniversary of Lori’s sentencing. It was bitter cold, but we were joined by groups and individuals from Washington and Maryland, and about seventy-five of us held a rally in Lafayette Park opposite the White House. We sang songs, performed a short play about Lori, interviewed with the press, and walked back and forth demanding Lori’s freedom.

The three days energized all of us for the work ahead. In the following months Grahame organized delegations to Peru; Theresa and Kristen distributed "Organizing Packets" to regional coordinators; Grahame and Kristen wrote grant proposals; Jim helped us gather an advisory board; Freddie was a liaison with the D.C. human rights community; Bob designed bumper stickers and posters advertising our website; and Ken made the site better and better. And support grew. We got letters saying, "Saw a bumper sticker, checked out the web, what can I do to help?" More and more web visitors used the translator on the site and wrote letters to Lori.

In March, the first delegation, led by Blase Bonpane, went to Peru. He was accompanied by Reverend Lucius Walker, Director of ifco/Pastors for Peace; Amy Goodman, host of Pacifica Radio’s Democracy Now; Annie Bird of Rights Action/Guatemala Partners; Patricia Todd, a California librarian and regional coordinator; and Kristen Gardner. The group met with U.S. Embassy officials, including Ambassador Jett, members of the Peruvian and international press, leaders of the human rights community, and, somewhat unexpectedly, with Lori.

Long before traveling to Peru, Blase had sent a formal request to prison authorities for permission to visit Lori on Tuesday, March 2. When they arrived in Lima, there was still no response to their request. On Tuesday they traveled to Socabaya, hoping their visit would be approved by the time they arrived. They presented the prison director with a letter of support from Gustavo Mohme Llona, a Peruvian Congressman they had spoken with in Lima. The director placed a call on her cell phone and then permitted a two-hour up-close visit in the yard. After Blase returned to California, he received a letter from Peruvian authorities informing him that permission would not be granted for the visit. The prison director was removed from her post, and Lori was blamed.

We were not certain why this group was allowed to visit. Rules limit routine visits to immediate family, although the Red Cross and religious representatives were also permitted at times. In the past, Lori had been visited by local church workers and by Rabbi Ronnie Greenwald from the United States. She had also met once with representatives of the U.N. Working Group on Arbitrary Detention and the Inter-American Commission for Human Rights. No other human rights groups or journalists had been allowed to meet her. We know that at the time Blase’s delegation was in Peru, there were also visitors from the Organization of American States, and it was possible that prison officials confused Blase’s organization, the ooa, with the oas which in Spanish has initials oea.

On his return, Blase summarized his visit. " . . . the effects of the cold and high altitudes were apparent in her red complexion and purple and swollen hands. She maintains her innocence and would like to be released. She continues to be concerned about the social injustice in Peru, including the level of poverty, the lack of due process for many arrestees, and the prison conditions. . . . She would prefer to be released, rather than being granted a new trial, because she assesses that she could not receive a fair trial within Peru due to the negative, distorted media coverage [there] . . . she does not want to ask for a transfer [to a U.S. prison] because it assumes her guilt, and she maintains that she is innocent."

Kristen, who knew Lori well, expressed her concern that Lori had been separated from the world for over three years, the world she loves, and separated from her work for social justice. All members commented on Lori’s continued concern for others and her wish that the delegation make it known that there were many other Peruvian prisoners who were convicted as she was, held under the same inhumane conditions, and whose health was even more precarious than hers.

The delegation had nothing good to say of their meeting with Ambassador Jett. He was determined to continue asking for a new civilian trial—despite the scathing State Department report that described the Peruvian judicial system as corrupt and easily manipulated by the executive branch. The ambassador was upset that the delegation had been allowed to see Lori, but not once in the almost two-hour meeting with the delegation did he ask how she was.

Lori was thrilled to have sat in the sunshine and chatted with a group of friendly people. She, as I, was amazed that these men and women, most of whom had until recently been total strangers, would give so much of their time and energy, would travel so far, just to see her.

However, the firing of the director made it clear that future delegations would have a difficult time visiting Lori. With that in mind, we limited the next trips to members of the religious community, believing Peru would find it harder to deny them entry. Rabbi Greenwald, who had seen Lori in Yanamayo, saw her again in Socabaya. In May, she was visited by Rabbi Marcelo Bronstein of Congregation B’nai Jeshurun in New York City, Reverend William Nottingham of Indianapolis, retired president of the Division of Overseas Ministries of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), and Sister Eileen Storey of Sisters of Charity in New York City. In September Lori met with Bishop Thomas J. Gumbleton, of the Archdiocese of Detroit.

Blase Bonpane, Bill Nottingham, and Sister Eileen reported on their visits at a Congressional Briefing of the Human Rights Caucus of the House of Representatives on "Human Rights in Peru: The Lori Berenson Case." Reverend Nottingham said, in part,

I recognized in [Lori] the kind of person the churches had sent by the score as mission interns and volunteers during the 1970s and 8’s to Latin America, Southern Africa, South Korea, the Philippines and Eastern Europe. That is when I was a mission executive for the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in the United States and Canada and for the United Church of Christ. These young people were well educated, politically aware, non-violent, deeply committed to social justice for the poor, and motivated by faith. I did not know if Lori Berenson was a religious person, but I had no doubt that her understanding of the suffering and oppression of the Third World was the same as ours. It came from the same protest against injustice which dignifies the human spirit by God’s command to love the neighbor and to seek justice for the poor. . . .

One realizes that judgments are made about her even though her story has not been heard. She told us that much said about her is not true, even absurd. Not only are there unsubstantiated charges but also rumors and speculations which have woven around her name a myth of sinister or naive collaboration with terrorists. Some people even are under the impression that she confessed to her accusers, which simply proves the degree of misinformation that confuses what is real and unreal in her situation.

He also reported that the group had fifteen interviews with Peruvian religious leaders—Catholic, Protestant, and Jewish—and human rights officers, as well as members of the U.S. Embassy staff. He said, "These interviews convinced us that a fair civilian trial is unthinkable under present circumstances, although that is what we thought was a reasonable expectation. No one saw that as a serious possibility, because there is not an independent judiciary."

In spite of President Clinton’s expression of concern the previous spring at his meeting with M.I.T. President Vest, and in spite of assurances from the nsc that they were looking for a solution, we knew we needed even stronger pressure from Congress.

Congresswoman Maloney circulated another Dear Colleague letter, this time addressed to President Clinton urging Lori’s release. It referred to the President’s obligations under Title 22 U.S.C. Section 1732, and the finding of U.N. High Commission on Human Rights, that Lori was wrongfully arbitrarily deprived of her liberty. It goes on to say, "Lack of leadership and effective action on Lori’s case could endanger U.S. citizens not only in Peru, but in many other countries. It sends the unfortunate message that the United States will not act when its citizens are wrongfully imprisoned in foreign countries. In addition, lack of strong action in this case would jeopardize the importance of the office of U.N. High Commission on Human Rights and denigrate the cause of justice and human rights throughout the world."

We wanted a similar letter sent from the Senate, but Senator Moynihan preferred to write again to Madeleine Albright. He asked his colleagues to join him in telling the Secretary of State, "We now believe that Ms. Berenson’s deteriorating health warrants humanitarian release from prison and urge you to use your authority to secure Ms. Berenson’s release before her health further deteriorates." Writing to the Secretary was not nearly as effective as writing to the President, but at least the emphasis was "release."

By June, one hundred eighty members of the House signed the letter telling President Clinton it was his duty to secure Lori’s release. And thirty-three Senators asked Secretary Albright to seek a humanitarian release. In July, Mr. Clinton responded, writing that the embassy in Lima continually urges a fair trial, and ending with, "The administration continues to explore all options to resolve Ms. Berenson’s case, and we are committed to achieving a just outcome." Also in July, the President sent Governor Buddy MacKay, his Special Envoy to the Americas, to speak to Mr. Fujimori.

Meanwhile, Congresswoman Maxine Waters proposed an amendment to a State Department authorization bill. The amendment asked Congress to support democracy and human rights in Peru and investigate the lack of press freedom and judicial independence. It also stipulated that, "in deciding whether to provide economic and other forms of assistance to Peru, the United States should take into consideration the willingness of Peru to assist in the release of Lori Berenson."

The debate on the amendment was shown live on cspan. We were glued to the tv. The usual sleep-inducing atmosphere of dull congressional speeches was changed suddenly into a dynamic argument on the fate of Lori Berenson. Congresswoman Waters spoke passionately in favor of the amendment. Congressman Christopher Smith from New Jersey led the opposition. Congressman Gary Ackerman of New York also asked to speak against the amendment but deferred to Congressman Smith when time became an issue.

Congressman Smith agreed, saying, "The procedures used to convict Lori Berenson of aggravated terrorism were egregious. Lori Berenson certainly deserves due process and to have her case tried by an open, civilian court in Peru." He then went on to oppose Lori’s release on the grounds that "we must avoid commenting, even implicitly, on the serious evidence against her." (Of course he couldn’t say what constituted that "serious evidence," because the Peruvian government never has shown any evidence.) He then went on to discuss the violence of the mrta. He suggested that Congresswoman Waters consider changing the amendment to ask for a fair trial rather than release.

In rebuttal, Representative Carolyn Maloney pointed out that Lori proclaimed she is innocent, that President Fujimori had refused all past requests for a new trial, and had "announced that he would not respect the oas decision on Lori’s appeal regardless of the outcome." Congressman Jim McGovern pointed out "even the State Department concludes that it is still impossible to receive a fair trial, to undergo a just process in Peru’s current judicial system. So asking for a new trial in Lori’s case is very problematic, because it is impossible to get a fair trial in Peru today." Congresswoman Cynthia McKinney added, "If Lori Berenson is not going to get a fair trial, and she is not, then she deserves to be set free. That is what we would do here for people who are tried unfairly, and we have no right letting a foreign government get away with less when Americans are involved." Supporting remarks were also presented by Representatives Clayton, Delahunt, Hinchey, Meek, and Morella.

Mr. Smith again insisted on changing the focus to fair trial. A vociferous debate continued, and then Congressman Sam Gejdenson suggested a short break during which Representatives Smith and Waters would work to reword the amendment.

Our phone rang. It was Maxine Waters. She wanted to know if she should change the wording to something like, "Lori should have a fair trial according to international standards, within a year, and failing that, that she should be released." Or should she leave the amendment as originally written. We had to decide instantly. There was no time to speak with advisers or carefully weigh the pros and cons. We knew a fair trial was impossible, which is why we insisted on release now. "Release now" was the message we wanted sent to Peru. On the other hand, we knew the amendment could pass unanimously if Mr. Smith agreed to the new wording. It might lose otherwise. And, on the plus side, the new wording specified that the trial must meet international standards and set a time limit, after which the demand would be release. But we still wondered who would guarantee that the trial met international standards. It was a difficult decision. We told the Congresswoman to propose the new wording.

The Representatives returned to the House floor. We returned to cspan. The Congresswoman proposed the word change. But Mr. Smith refused to agree to any time limit for a trial or any use of the word "release" in the amendment. He repeated that he did not know if Lori was innocent, and once again went into a long discussion about the terrors of the mrta. As a result the wording remained as originally written—without reference to a trial—and the amendment was defeated by a vote of 233 to 189.

We were disappointed. But 189 votes meant a lot of support. When we compared the list of those who voted for this amendment with those who signed the letter asking President Clinton to secure Lori’s release, we found that there were differences. Some had signed the letter but voted "no" on the amendment and some had not signed the letter and voted "yes." When we combined results we found that a total of 225, a majority, of the 435 voting members expressed their support for Lori's release via the amendment and/or the letter to President Clinton.

When we told Lori of this she was both thrilled and surprised. Mary Grandfield had visited and told her that the amendment lost, and Lori had assumed it had received only a few votes. But 189 votes told Peruvian officials that they should beware. And the possibility of a majority would be a real concern. Peru understood that the U.S. Congress held the purse strings on aid to Peru. Lori told us, and we were to see clearly over the next months, that Peru watched the actions of the U.S. Congress very carefully. They even went so far as to invest hundreds of thousands of dollars to hire two well-known U.S. firms, Patton Boggs and ssk (Shepardson, Stern and Kaminsky), to lobby our Congress in order to improve their image.

August was quiet. Congress was on recess, and most of our friends were away. But we continued with our routine, spending much of the day responding to e-mail and other letters and reading and translating the Peruvian newspapers. I was considering writing a book and started keeping notes on what we read and what we wrote. So, for example, on August 26 among the dozens of e-mails and letters we received the following:

• A note from Len Strickman, a high school friend of Mark’s, who had just learned about Lori’s plight and who as Dean of the Law School at the University of Arkansas, knew Bill and Hillary Clinton and wanted to know how he could help.
• Two résumés from applicants for the position of National Organizer of the Committee to Free Lori Berenson. (Our efforts to bring Lori home had become so overwhelming that we needed a professional organizer with an office in Washington.)
• A newspaper column by Amelia Fletcher in Baldwin County, Alabama, in which she connected Lori’s situation to that of Bonnivard, a political prisoner in Chillon in a sonnet by Lord Byron, intercutting quotes from the poem and details of Lori’s case.
• A letter from Hillary Clinton, responding to one handed to her in June by friends of ours when she was the commencement speaker at our alma mater, the City College of New York. Mrs. Clinton’s letter said, "The President and I share your concerns about Lori’s case . . . Please know that we continue to seek a just and expeditious outcome of Lori’s case."
• A request for twenty-five posters for an event planned for September 23, sponsored by an Amnesty International chapter in Monclair, New Jersey.
• A copy of a petition signed by fifty supporters at a rally in Northern California.
• A copy of a letter to the editor in defense of Lori by Gary James Boyle that appeared in the Boston Herald.
• A photo and poem for Lori from a St. Louis supporter, along with a request for a bumper sticker for his guitar case.
• A letter for Lori from a Brazilian anthropologist.
• A book of cartoons, in Spanish, for Lori from a New York supporter who sends gifts nearly monthly.
• A flyer announcing a street performance of "What You Do: the Story of Lori Berenson" by the theater group Great Small Works, scheduled for September 8 at Union Square Park, in New York a show that included a fifteen-foot puppet of Lori that had been performed in the summer of 1998 at the Bread and Puppet Theater in Vermont.

And our perusal of the Peruvian press revealed articles about the arrival in Peru of United States "Drug Czar" General Barry McCaffrey who was there to discuss coca growth. We hoped he would also tell authorities that the United States is seriously concerned about Peru’s treatment of Lori and, that after three years and nine months without benefit of a proper trial, the Peruvian government must release her and send her home. This would be a good followup to the trip of President Clinton’s Special Envoy, Buddy MacKay, who discussed Lori on his visit to Peru the previous month.

The newspapers also announced the expected arrival of the new U.S. Ambassador, John Hamilton. We had met Ambassador Hamilton before he left for Peru and expressed to him our hopes that he would actively seek Lori’s release.

In the afternoon I sent out thank-you letters to donors and packets of information to potential supporters and that we spent the evening with Suzy Baer, who filmed some footage for a documentary about Lori.

It was summer and it would have been nice to visit the beach or take a ride in the country, but we chose not to. Taking time off only would result in work piling up, and there always seemed to be something that had to be completed instantly. And although we tried not to admit it, even to ourselves, after almost four years, we still hoped that the next phone call, e-mail, or letter would contain the message that would lead to Lori’s freedom. And we wanted to be there when the message came in.

In September we received a message from the nsc that they had important information for us that they could not discuss over the phone. We met on September 29. Peruvian officials had informed Ambassador Hamilton that they had evidence that would cause the military courts to set aside Lori’s conviction. The ambassador asked the nsc to notify us. The evidence was provided by three high officials of the Peruvian government and one high official of a foreign government. These four men had concluded from information that had become available to them that Lori was not a leader of the mrta. Because leadership is an essential element of the crime of treason, such evidence would require the military courts to void her conviction. Lori was urged to present the Supreme Council of Military Justice with a recurso de revision, a petition to reevaluate her case based on its new evidence, and, obviously, the highest officials in the Peruvian government approved such action.

Wow! The Peruvian government conceded it made a mistake—a big mistake. Filing a recurso held forth the potential for Lori’s release. But we were cautious—there might be a trap. After the military court set aside Lori’s conviction, the civilian courts could decide to try her for other crimes. And we were very concerned because, according to human rights organizations and the U.S. State Department, the civilian courts do not meet international standards of openness, fairness and due process and are not impartial and independent. They are controlled by the executive branch. So this could mean a corrupt show trial, one with "pretend" due process, scripted to find Lori guilty.

But we focused on the positive. We wanted the Peruvian government to publicly admit its mistake and throw the case out of the military courts. Then we would press Peru on the next admission—that Lori was not even a member of the mrta, that she was innocent of any and all charges, and that she would be released.

Our immediate concern was to speak with Lori. We asked Ambassador Hamilton to secure permission for Ramsey Clark to visit her so he could discuss the ramifications of these new proposals. We also requested that the ambassador arrange for us to meet members of the Supreme Council of Military Justice so they could explain the procedure for filing a recurso and assure us of its purpose.

The trip to Peru on the weekend of November 6 was even crazier than usual. I went to Socabaya on Saturday and outlined the latest events for Lori. Ramsey joined me there on Sunday and we both visited Lori. We returned to Lima that night and joined Mark for a meeting with Ambassador Hamilton and Mary Grandfield in the ambassador’s residence. Monday morning the five of us met with the Supreme Council of Military Justice and then Ramsey and I returned to Socabaya Monday afternoon to update Lori. I spent a lot of time in airports, but it was different from the usual grind—it felt like something really important was happening.

The meeting with the president of the Supreme Council of Military Justice and his staff of generals took place in one of the most beautiful old Spanish colonial buildings in Lima. With Ambassador Hamilton acting as translator, the president of the supreme council, joined by others from time to time, described the necessary procedures. They agreed that although a recurso was often written and submitted by a Peruvian lawyer, Lori could submit pro se—writing and submitting on her own, naming the four witnesses. The supreme council would then secure affidavits from them. Both the petition and the affidavits were to address only the question of leadership since that was the only question relevant to the military court proceedings. Upon receipt of this new evidence, actually prepared by the Peruvian government and court investigators, Lori’s conviction for treason would be set aside and her case dismissed from the military courts. We were told that new proceedings might be initiated in the civilian court system for alleged crimes within its jurisdiction. That decision might be made by civilian authorities, based on their independent investigation, but only after dismissal of all charges in the military courts.

Lori, of course, was very excited by the new possibilities and very anxious to file the recurso as soon as possible—although she was also aware of the possible risk of a staged civilian trial. She and Ramsey outlined what the petition would say and after we returned to New York, Ramsey and Tom Nooter wrote a draft. It named the four witnesses, and pointed out that she would not have been convicted if the military courts had knowledge, during the trial, of the information that these witnesses could now provide.

Tom went to Peru, he and Lori made some final corrections, and U.S. embassy officials delivered the petition to the Supreme Council of Military Justice on December 6.

We kept this all very quiet, not telling anybody, waiting nervously for the supreme council to act. But news leaked out in early December, when Peruvian Prime Minister Alberto Bustamante and other officials visited Washington D.C. and were interviewed by the Washington Times. The Times reported, "Peruvian officials for the first time say new evidence about Lori Berenson’s role in a revolutionary Marxist group is prompting them to consider a new trial …" It goes on to say that members of the prime minister’s entourage said, "there are provisions in Peruvian law to introduce ‘new evidence’ if someone has been wrongly convicted. If the military court accepts the new evidence, Berenson could get a trial before Peru’s Supreme Council of Military Justice." We were greatly surprised to hear that the prime minister had revealed this information to the press. We worried that premature disclosure might hinder the process.

Although the Times wrote about "a trial before Peru’s Supreme Council of Military Justice," we knew they were referring to the council’s evaluation of the affidavits accompanying the recurso. And we were waiting for those affidavits to be submitted. If the recurso had been drawn up by a Peruvian lawyer, the affidavits would have been collected by the lawyer and submitted along with the petition and the petition would reflect the substance of the affidavits. Because Lori filed without a lawyer, the affidavits were to be collected by the supreme council, and the petition was written to reflect what Lori had been told the affidavits would address—only questions of leadership. In mid-December we were horrified when we were shown a copy of an affidavit signed by three of the witnesses. While it forcefully stated Lori was not a leader, contrary to what the supreme council had told us, the affidavit went on to assert she was guilty of a lesser crime – of aiding the mrta. As an attachment to Lori’s recurso, this would be construed as an admission of guilt when, in fact, Lori adamantly proclaims her innocence and would refute any such charges.

We immediately informed Peruvian officials of our objections and they quickly agreed the affidavits were inappropriate. We were assured the witnesses would submit new ones promptly.

We could only speculate on why the affidavits were written as they were. We thought possibly these dignitaries were worried that they would be called soft on terrorism if they didn’t claim Lori was guilty of something. Perhaps they hoped to end Lori’s case with what in effect would have been a guilty plea, although to a lesser crime.

We anxiously awaited the new affidavits and the decision of the supreme council. Every time the phone rang there was a chance it was Ambassador Hamilton, or the nsc, or a reporter who heard that the supreme council had reversed Lori’s conviction. Peruvian officials hinted that the action could come before government offices closed for the Christmas holidays. It did not happen. Instead we encountered one delay after another.

Christmas 1999

On December 21, I said good-bye to my students and good-bye to Nassau Community College. It was time to retire. I could no longer continue teaching and do all the work necessary to help Lori. It was a difficult decision. My time in the classroom, immersed in a discipline governed by logic, had become my escape from the unpredictable chaos that Lori's arrest had brought to my life. I knew I would miss the classroom, the students, and conversations with my colleagues. But I just couldn’t continue.

Mark and I spent December 24, our thirty-sixth wedding anniversary, traveling to Peru. We brought around one hundred cards and letters, many with multiple signatures, including some from Italy, Chile, Israel, Canada, and Ecuador. People had sent boxes of stationery, warm socks, and books. Mark and I had searched for the perfect holiday gift and decided on a book of embroidery patterns, all based on pictures of cats and complete with graphs—though no escape plans! Lori appreciated both the humor and the practical value of the book.

Among the numerous greeting cards was one from President and Mrs. Clinton, addressed to Lori and reading, "Our family wishes you and yours a blessed holiday season filled with treasured memories of past traditions and joy and peace in the new millennium." Somehow Lori’s name had gotten on the "important person mailing list "at the White House. The censors were so impressed they allowed Lori to have the card, even though it was in English.

In return, Lori sent a handmade card with the thread drawing of a Peruvian boy in colorful, traditional garb holding a bunch of flowers and a message, in Spanish, for a happy Christmas and a prosperous New Year. She also added, "I’m sure knowing that I am innocent, Mr. President, your administration will do all that is possible to secure my freedom in the year 2000."

Lori tried to exude holiday cheer. She was wearing the burgundy turtleneck shirt that Kathy had brought last month for her birthday under a flannel jacket and blue and gray sweater. The gray in the sweater brought out the gray in her hazel eyes. Her hair had been recently trimmed and hung just below her shoulders.

She talked about her latest knitting projects and gave us three pairs of tiny booties for friends who had recently had babies. Lori loved knitting baby clothes. She loved being reminded of children. Although she still could not mix with the general prison population, on a few occasions the children living at the prison wandered by her cell and spoke with her. She always had stories, like the time that a little boy stopped to ask where she slept. When Lori pointed to her mattress he thought for a moment and then asked, "¿Y tú mamá donde duermo?"—"But where does your mama sleep?" He and his question "made Lori’s day," and Lori had looked so happy just telling me about it.

At Lori’s suggestion we came to the prison with a huge bag of festively wrapped toys, chocolate Santas, and children’s clothing. The clothing was collected by Elizabeth Mandeville, a high school student in New Hampshire, who like Lori was deeply concerned about the hardships faced by the children and the their mothers.

Holiday banter was interrupted by a serious discussion of Lori’s case. We were all very disappointed that the Supreme Council of Military Justice had not yet made progress on her recurso. The best we could tell Lori was that Ambassador Hamilton believed everything was still on track. But we were very worried that delays would bring us too close to the Peruvian election, which was scheduled for April 9, and that the Peruvian government would prefer to slow down the process until after that date. President Fujimori was expected to declare his candidacy the following week—no surprise after all the maneuvering he had done to allow himself an unconstitutional third term.

Lori remembered how closely she had followed the 1995 elections. She very much wanted to follow this campaign—and to hear other news of Peru, news of the United States, and news of the world. For several months she was awaiting permission to have a radio. She knew that Peruvian law did not forbid radios, had heard that prisoners at Yanamayo and other maximum-security prisons now had them, and the Peruvian Ombudsman told her she could have one. But Socabaya authorities continued to say no.

Sometimes prison guards placed a radio, tuned to music, so that Lori could listen. But, as she indicated in a letter to Daniel Radosh, Lori would have preferred to make her own musical selections. Daniel was Lori’s friend since seventh grade. I always knew when Lori was on the phone with Daniel because of all the laughter. His ability to make her laugh, and his close friendship throughout the years, was a source of strength for Lori. In the December 20 edition of The Nation, Daniel wrote:

According to my old friend Lori Berenson, life in a Peruvian prison is even worse than I had thought. . . I’ve known Lori since junior high when we passed notes behind the teacher’s back. Today we correspond only in Spanish so her guards can monitor what we say. She is not allowed to write much about her circumstances, which are appalling, or her health, which is deteriorating, but it wouldn’t be her style to complain. In her most recent letter, however, Lori does write of a new affront to her dignity. Her prison wing has been given radio privileges which to her horror, means disco music: "I can put up with a regimen of isolation and confinement," she says, "but nobody said when they sentenced me that I was going to have to listen to "Won’t you take me to Funky Town.’" After four years, Lori’s sense of humor helps keep her strong. Reading between the lines, I know she’s counting on our sense of outrage to set her free.

Yes, Lori’s sense of humor helped keep her strong. And her strength helped keep me strong.

Lori had made a card for Mark’s fifty-eighth birthday, only a few days away. It had a caricature of Mark’s face, the caricature that Mark and Lori had been sending back and forth in letters for years—a round face, bald head with little side tufts of hair, glasses, beard, and mustache. And Lori referred to him as "the numbers doctor"—a reminder of the day when Mark received his Ph.D. and we had a cake congratulating "Dr. Mark." Lori was very young at the time and not too fond of doctors, who were always pricking or prodding her. Mark reassured her that he only treated sick numbers, not sick children.

On the front of the birthday card, Mark was smiling. The caption read "El Doctor de Números de pone a pensar . . ."—"The numbers doctor is thinking . . . " In the cloud above his head, the number doctor was thinking "365(1999-1941) + (1999-1941)/4." Inside, the left page had a smiling Mark thinking "21,184-21,184 días," and saying "ha vivido 21,184 días . . . "—"I have lived 21,184 days . . . " The right page showed Mark aghast, OY! as he contemplated "21,184 days!" It was signed "Feliz Cumpleaños Dad! Te quiero mucho!"—"Happy Birthday Dad! I love you very much. Lori."

Lori had withstood four years of imprisonment. The Peruvian government incarcerated her under conditions that compromised her physical well being, and, as Lori wrote, sought to "morally and psychologically destroy those prisoners who do not renounce their principles." But, as I said good-bye to Lori and wished her a Happy New Year, I knew that in spite of everything, she was still the same Lori. She was still joking with Daniel, still designing "mathematical" birthday cards, and still worried about the health and happiness of children.

Another new year, in fact, a new millennium. The Committee to Free Lori Berenson now had an office in Washington run by our recently hired National Organizer, Gail Taylor. Gail was a graduate of Syracuse University, where she majored in International Relations, concentrating on U.S. foreign policy and Latin America. She had studied in Chile, was fluent in Spanish, and had worked at the Center for International Policy in Washington. She organized our ever-growing grassroots support and increased the number of regional coordinators to forty-five, so that most of the country was "covered." She was also a constant presence in Washington—meeting with human rights leaders, religious groups, congressional aides, and government officials. Now there were three of us, Mark, Gail and I, who were working endlessly, missing sleep and hardly eating.

January 11 marked four years since Lori’s sentencing, and it was commemorated by vigils in over a dozen cities across the country, including one in Fairbanks, Alaska, where the temperature was thirty-five degrees below zero. Student chapters of Amnesty International in Wisconsin and New Jersey collected hundreds of signatures on huge banners and sent them to President Clinton. Students, staff, and the administrators at Norwell High School in Massachusetts organized a twenty-four-hour fast to draw attention to Lori’s plight. And we planned yet another congressional campaign.

As always, Mark and I were busy writing, reading and speaking about Lori. But our number one concern was the Supreme Council of Military Justice. Ambassador Hamilton still insisted the process was "on track." But when would they announce they had thrown out Lori’s conviction? We prepared news releases to distribute after the declaration was made. Several times a week we called Ambassador Hamilton in Peru and Wendy Patten who had replaced Scott Busby at the nsc, anxious to know if they had heard anything new.

At the end of January, representatives of the Peruvian government, including the prime minister and foreign minister, visited Washington. They met with officials at the State Department and the nsc and members of Congress, particularly those who had influence over financial aid for Peru. We were told that, at these meetings, Lori was a key topic of discussion and Prime Minister Bustamante explained that it was now clear Lori was not a leader of the mrta. Important witnesses would be submitting affidavits to this effect. Based on these affidavits, Bustamante expected her conviction would be reversed. Similar messages were given to other members of Congress when Peruvian officials returned a few weeks later.

The Peruvians even proposed an approximate timetable, expecting that the council would act by the end of March. In mid-February three new affidavits had been submitted and an official from the U.S. embassy viewed them and verified that they addressed only the relevant evidence—that Lori was not a leader of the mrta. That was the good news. The bad news was that we still had to wait for the fourth affidavit.

Meanwhile, Peru was immersed in its presidential election campaign. We were following events very, very intently, and so was the international community. Election monitors from human rights groups descended on Peru and reported on widespread corruption and dirty tricks—some of which were all too familiar to us.

We recalled that for several weeks after Lori’s arrest the news kiosks had been covered with unflattering photos and ridiculous, ever-changing, unsubstantiated accusations designed to convince the public she was guilty. Now on these same kiosks the front pages of the Fujimori-controlled press featured unflattering photos and ridiculous, ever-changing accusations designed to discredit the two main opposition candidates—Alberto Andrade and Luis Casteñeda. In addition, the government and, therefore, Mr. Fujimori had control of eight of the nine tv stations and denied opponents airtime. When the opposition held rallies, suddenly the power would be cut on the loudspeaker system or a military band would appear and drown out the speaker.

Newspaper headlines around the world used the words "fraud," "irregularities," and "foul" in describing the election process. Monitors from the Organization of American States, the Carter Center for Human Rights, and other international human rights organizations were highly critical. And President Clinton approved a resolution passed by the U.S. Congress threatening to modify political and economic relations with Peru unless the elections were free and transparent.

As the campaign progressed, Alberto Andrade and Luis Casteñeda fell by the wayside along with five other candidates, their campaigns devastated by dirty tricks. But Alejandro Toledo, a Peruvian of mixed Spanish-Indian lineage with strong Indian features, gained strength. He campaigned against Mr. Fujimori’s authoritarian ways and, having been raised in poverty, promised to be "the president of the poor." In return, and despite an agreement not to offer inducements for votes, Mr. Fujimori gave away parcels of land and bags of rice as he campaigned around the country, particularly in the rural Indian areas that had given him strong support in the past.

There were more cries of "foul" and reports that ballots and tally sheets disappeared for hours without explanation while votes were counted in undisclosed locations. Astonishingly, there were 1.4 million more ballots counted than there were eligible voters. The final count, which dragged out for days, showed 49.87 percent for Mr. Fujimori and 40.24 percent for Mr. Toledo with the remaining votes distributed among the other candidates. Because no candidate received more than 50 percent, a run off between the two leaders was scheduled for May 28.

And we were still waiting for the supreme council to act on Lori’s recurso. We had hoped that after the election, there would be movement. Now we didn’t expect movement until after the run off—although we kept pushing U.S. officials to press for a resolution.

Meanwhile, both Mark and I, and our supporters, took advantage of the U.S. media coverage of the election mayhem to write letters to the editor and op-ed pieces. We pointed out that Lori was a victim of the same types of false claims and dirty tricks that were used in the political campaign against opposition candidates. And while we applauded the commitment of President Clinton and the Congress to fair elections in Peru, we also wanted them to press demands for human rights—particularly Lori’s rights

In mid-April, in a particularly strong column in the New York Times, Anthony Lewis wrote, "When the Serbs captured three U.S. soldiers during the Kosovo war a year ago, President Clinton warned President Milosevic of Yugoslavia: ‘Make no mistake—America takes care of its own.’ It is a fine sentiment. But the President has signally failed to apply it in a case that should nag at his and the country’s conscience. It is the case of Lori Berenson." He went on to say that Lori’s "flagrantly illegitimate trial makes President Clinton’s passive posture on the case puzzling." We couldn’t agree more. Surely the case of an innocent young woman enduring years of deprivation and abuse in a Peruvian prison should weigh on President Clinton’s conscience. And I cannot believe that he would want to end his term with Lori still in prison—to have as part of his legacy that he neglected to take care of America’s own.

Meanwhile in Peru, despite the many important issues that could affect the future of that country and its people, at times it seemed that the only issue of significance was the future of Lori Berenson. On April 28, the New York Times reported, "Without promising to release her from prison, the opposition presidential candidate Alejandro Toledo held open the possibility of a legal appeal for Lori Berenson . . . In New York, Mr. Toledo said that under judicial reforms he favors, Ms. Berenson’s lawyers would be allowed to present evidence that she was judged unfairly."

Immediately Mr. Fujimori’s supporters cried "soft on terrorism." By the next morning, papers noted that Mr. Toledo "clarified his position." He would not release terrorists, regardless of nationality. No way would he review Lori’s case—it is a closed case. He emphasized that his government would be even stronger against terrorism than President Fujimori’s. This started a flurry—actually a huge storm—of articles and tv interviews focused on Lori. On April 29, each of the Peruvian newspapers had several items, and Expreso alone had more than a dozen different articles discussing Lori. Meanwhile, tv coverage was accompanied by unflattering clips of Lori’s 1996 press presentation.

Of particular concern were the comments by high-ranking members of the Peruvian judiciary who joined in the political fray. Jurist Mario Amoretti said that a recurso de revision is not applicable in the case of Lori Berenson because a recurso is only possible for someone who wishes to prove her innocence, but Lori confessed—and the confession made due process irrelevant. Marcos Ibazeta, President of the [civilian] Superior Court for Terrorism said Lori’s sentence is a settled matter and there could not be a new trial. Pedro Infantes, President of the Superior Court of Lima, said she was already judged and sentenced. And, preposterously, Mr. Infantes declared that due process was respected in her case. Even the Peruvian Ombudsman, who is supposed to be independent of government and political influence, said, "I do not see why she has to be in a distinct position from the other terrorists. I do not believe that her situation should be different." Many articles made a point that there would be no special favors for a U.S. citizen. Statements from Fujimori supporters featured Lori but were directed at the United States for its criticism of the electoral process.

The demagoguery aimed at Lori was beyond belief. But one thing was made perfectly clear. Respected members of the civilian justice system had already prejudged her. They said she was guilty, had confessed, and her case was closed. Perhaps even more incredibly, they insisted she had due process. They simply confirmed once again that Peru lacked an impartial judiciary, that Peru was incapable of providing a fair trial for Lori.

In the midst of the election turmoil, Kathy and I went to Peru for Mother’s Day. Lori had requested that we have an up-close longer visit—the type of special Mother’s Day visit that is permitted in all other prisons, even Yanamayo. Her request was denied. We met in the locotorio for one hour and we made the best of it. This was the first time in many years I spent Mother’s Day with both my daughters, and we weren’t going to allow the prison officials to spoil things. Lori borrowed a guitar (she had left hers in Yanamayo), and the three of us, ignoring the screens that separated us, sang songs that we had sung together when Lori and Kathy were children and the guitar was in my hands. Lori selected the first song, and saying, "I bet you haven’t heard this one in over twenty years," she broke into the chorus of "The Gypsy Rover." I realized I had never told her about singing it at the January 1996 "folkfest" in our hotel room in Lima with John Richardson, Mr. Achahui, and Tom Nooter. I wondered how much else I had never told her—how much she never learned—because one hour every few weeks and censored letters in my poor Spanish is simply not enough.

As a small concession for the holiday, Kathy and I were allowed to hug Lori before we left. And in spite of the difficult good-bye, we left smiling—at least momentarily. But as the taxi pulled away from the prison we realized once again how sad it was that we were dependent on the whims of the Peruvian authorities for such small things—an hour visit, a few songs, and a hug.

As the May 28 runoff drew near, Peru was making news around the world with stories of the same dirty tricks that characterized the April 9 election. Alejandro Toledo was still denied access to tv coverage and was still slandered in the Fujimori-controlled press. And there were questions about the reliability of new computer software to be used to tally votes. Mr. Toledo threatened to withdraw from the race. Eduardo Stein, leader of a monitoring team from the Organization of American States, tried to mediate a solution whereby the election could be postponed to give foreign observers time to test computer software to make sure the counts were transparent and clean. But the Fujimori government refused to postpone, and on May 18 Alejandro Toledo said he would not participate in the runoff, claiming the computer system was susceptible to fraud and that Fujimori’s control of newspapers and tv denied him a fair chance to win. On May 26, Mr. Stein, saying, "The Peruvian electoral process is far from one that could be considered free and fair," ordered his monitoring team and observers to leave Peru. Other monitoring groups, including the one from the Carter Center, also withdrew. President Clinton issued a statement: "Free, fair and open elections are the foundation of a democratic society. Without them, our relationship with Peru will inevitably be affected."

On May 28, although Mr. Fujimori was the only candidate, voters went to the polls. By Peruvian law voting is obligatory and neglecting to do so is a crime punishable by a heavy fine. Mr. Fujimori won barely 50 percent of the ballots. Toledo supporters either voted for him despite his withdrawal, wrote "no to fraud" on the ballot or turned it in blank. If the total of those who expressed their support for Mr. Toledo on their ballots is added to the number of people who did not vote at all, nearly 60 percent of eligible voters did not vote for Mr. Fujimori.

On May 29, the United States joined other nations in criticizing the fraudulent election. The State Department issued a statement that "No president emerging from such a flawed process can claim legitimacy. In view of the refusal of the government of Peru to accommodate international observers’ complaints . . . we do not see the election as being valid. This problem is a serious threat to the inter-American system and its commitment to democracy." I was a bit surprised and impressed by this strong statement of condemnation. But I was not surprised the next day when a State Department spokesman backpedaled, refusing to endorse the statement of the previous day. He preferred to simply express the administration’s concern and "regret." Ah yes, the U.S. government expresses "regret"—that was a lot more typical of the weak response that I had learned to expect from our State Department. I am sure that Mr. Fujimori wasn’t surprised, either. When he was asked by a reporter for the Washington Post about possible sanctions by the international community, he said, "For us, there is no fear that they could apply sanctions . . . We will get through this in a few days."

Sure enough, at a June meeting of the oas, over the objection of the United States, member nations voted not to call for new elections or sanctions against Peru. They voted instead to send a mission to Peru to work to strengthen democracy. U.S.- Peruvian relations remained strained. And we were still waiting for the supreme council to dismiss Lori’s case.

New Hopes

Ever since our meeting with National Security Advisor Sandy Berger we had kept in close contact with the nsc—speaking frequently first with Scott Busby, Director for Multilateral and Humanitarian Affairs, and then with his replacement Wendy Patten. We also spoke and met occasionally with the Senior Director, Eric Schwartz. But as the months wore on without signs of progress on Lori’s recurso, we asked to meet again with Mr. Berger. We feared that the process in the Supreme Council of Military Justice was stalled, perhaps dead, despite consistent assurances from the government of Peru—up until the time this book went to press—that it was "on track." There is much more to be said about the Peruvian government’s admission that Lori was never a leader of the mrta, its initiatives to have the conviction of treason dismissed, and the many delays in the promised action, but I cannot jeopardize Lori’s release by revealing them as I write this.

Mark, Ramsey and I met with Sandy Berger at the White House on June 14. He was well apprised of Lori’s situation and we were thrilled when he expressed his determination to secure her release. He made it clear that he and his staff would work to bring Lori home in the next six months, before President Clinton left office. He informed us of the U.S. decision to send a high-level delegation to Peru that would discuss many of the issues relevant to U.S.-Peruvian relations, including Lori, making it clear that resolution of Lori's situation was a high priority. And we all hoped that the process in the Supreme Council of Military Justice would be completed by the time that the delegation arrived in Lima so that the focus could be on Lori’s subsequent release.

Once again we were impressed by Sandy Berger's sincerity and humanity. As we were leaving and thanking him, Mark expressed his hope that Lori would soon be able to thank him in person. Mr. Berger replied that he would love to be on the plane that brought her home.

We left the meeting excited but nevertheless concerned. After four and a half years of inaction or, at best, weak initiatives that had only guaranteed Peru's ability to defy international law with impunity, finally, it seemed that the U.S. government would make an all-out effort to resolve Lori’s situation. Finally, there seemed to be a commitment—not a commitment to secure a fair trial, which everyone agreed was impossible, but a commitment to secure Lori’s release. But we knew there were no guarantees, and time was rapidly running out on the Clinton Administration.

We met again with the nsc in July. This time we met with Eric Schwartz who, like Mr. Berger, was determined to press for Lori's release, indicating that Lori's situation needed to be raised strongly and often with the Peruvian government. He also suggested that perhaps two missions be sent to Peru—a delegation to discuss Lori among other issues and a special emissary to discuss only Lori. He pointed out that other issues—democratization, freedom of the press, revamping of the Peruvian justice system and electoral process—were long-term efforts that required many meetings and negotiations. The release of Lori Berenson was different—it should be settled on immediately. The delegation would go to Peru at the end of August and then a decision would be made about sending a special emissary soon after.

On our next trip to Washington, Mark, Kathy and I met with Hillary Rodham Clinton at the White House. Our meetings with Sandy Berger were in the west wing. We had never been in the main building, the place where Presidents greeted dignitaries and banquets were held for heads of state. We were in awe of the majesty of the rooms, and as we waited for the first lady we reflected on how much our lives had changed. Five years ago, none of us would have ever imagined such a meeting and we didn’t know quite what to expect. But as soon as Mrs. Clinton sat down and began to speak, we relaxed. She was completely informed about Lori’s situation and was very concerned about her well-being. She offered to work with the nsc, however they deemed would be best for Lori, and promised to do whatever she could to bring Lori home. We were very touched by her compassion and thankful for her commitment.

And as July drew to a close, we had more good news—this time from the congress. On July 27, Congressman Joe Moakley of Massachusetts spoke on the floor of congress, stressing that "it is time that President Clinton demands Lori’s release at the highest levels—it is time this nation stands up for Lori—it is time for Lori to come home." And then, on July 28, a letter signed by forty Senators and another signed by two hundred twenty-one members of the House of Representatives were sent to President Clinton, urging him once again to secure Lori’s immediate release. In a press statement Congresswoman Carolyn Maloney said, "It is unbelievable what has happened to Lori Berenson. . . I am hopeful that with the support of Congress, President Clinton will continue his efforts to free Lori Berenson from prison and to work for human rights in Peru and throughout the world." And in a separate statement, Congresswoman Maxine Waters wrote, "I am proud that the majority of the members of the House of Representatives have joined me this year to call for Lori’s immediate release. Now is the time for the President to act."

Also on July 28 President Alberto Fujimori was inaugurated for a third term.

So once again we are waiting and hoping—waiting for the Supreme Council of Military Justice to act on Lori’s recurso, waiting for the U.S. missions to visit Peru, hoping that they, as representatives of President Clinton and the U.S. government, will demand Lori’s release and that the Peruvian government will realize that there is no alternative, that Lori must be released. And while we wait for governments to act, and hope every moment for Lori’s freedom, we will continue to work long hours every day, travel wherever support can be found, and journey regularly to visit and be strengthened by Lori. And I can say, as Lori said just before her sentencing, "[I] never will lose the hope and confidence that there will be a new day of justice in Peru."

Today marks four years and eight months since Lori’s arrest. 1705 days. I still have very vivid memories of that first phone call that brought such horrifying news and prefaced this totally unimaginable chain of events. I never could have imagined that more than four-and-a-half years later I would still be waiting for the call saying Lori is coming home. If I had known that then, I might not have thought myself capable of enduring such a long struggle. But now I know I can continue for as long as it takes.

On that first night, and for quite a while after, I was terrified. But the terror was gradually replaced by a more complex mix of emotions—sadness, anger, and frustration, with occasional periods of profound fear and a few of hopeful anticipation. Mostly I worry. Between visits I still agonize, "Is Lori all right?" I still get knots in my stomach when I travel to see her and my heart breaks at the end of each visit as I say good-bye.

Our lives have changed dramatically. Physics, dancing, even knitting, are things of my past, as statistics, jogging and watching football are of Mark’s. I am amazed at the things that now seem routine—meeting with government officials, speaking on tv and radio, receiving mail from all over the world, traveling to Peru every few weeks. And I am also amazed that I have written this book. I was always such a private person and here I am telling my story to all who will listen.

I have learned so much—and not just about lobbying or sound bites. I have become much more aware of the pain and suffering endured by so many throughout the world because of disregard for justice and basic human rights. And I never before fully appreciated how many wonderful, compassionate people there are who take time out of their busy lives, time away from their own families or interests, to help right the wrongs against humanity.

I could never adequately thank the thousands and thousands of people who have devoted words, deeds, and prayers towards comforting and encouraging us. They have told everyone who would listen that Lori Berenson is innocent and must be freed. They have helped me maintain my strength when exhaustion seemed almost overwhelming and helped Lori maintain her strong spirit, despite the extremely harsh conditions of her imprisonment.

This past January 11, Lori asked that the following letter be read at the many vigils around the country commemorating the fourth anniversary of her sentencing. She wanted to thank her supporters for their help and for their commitment to human rights. And she also wanted them to know that the years of wrongful imprisonment had not changed who she was or what she believes.

Dear Friends:

Thank you all for coming today and for all the help you have given me these past four years.

I admire the dedication of people like you to the cause of human rights, social justice, and freedom. I am immensely grateful for your efforts to see me free. These efforts certainly will benefit those who live in similar and in worse circumstances.

The violation of human rights in Peru isn’t only a problem of lack of democracy, freedom of speech and press, and the existence of judicial systems that are completely subordinate to political power. The foremost violation is the institutional violence that relegates the vast majority of people to living in misery. The right to food, health, education, and employment are human rights that are consistently violated in Peru, and we cannot be silent when we see and live these violations, when we know that there is spreading hunger and misery—and far too many deaths resulting from neglect.

In addition, the judicial systems in Peru have sentenced thousands, falsely accused as I was, to live in prisons under horrendous conditions. This includes the civilian courts, whose judges are appointed by the President and the secret military courts, both of which often fulfill a more political than judicial function. In Peru’s jails today, as Amnesty International has pointed out, access to better conditions is contingent on prisoners’ denials of their own beliefs and their denouncing of those who refuse to betray their beliefs.

Over these last four years I have become more convinced than ever that in the presence of social injustice and abuse, silence is almost as harmful as the injustice itself. To be silent is to be an accomplice. We will not be silent, we will not be quiet, until this changes, until there is justice and respect for human rights in Peru. And we will keep the faith that justice will prevail.

I thank you again for your help and efforts to better the situation of human rights and to see to my freedom.

Thank you,

Lori Berenson

Perhaps the most important thing I have learned over these years is that I will not be an accomplice. I will not be silent. I will shout until Lori is free—and then I will not be quiet until there is justice and respect for human rights everywhere.

Please join me.