
Snatched
From Home: Parental Abduction
Calgary (Canada) Herald
Gordon Legge
October 11th, 1997 |
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When
Jane Hardy agreed to let her husband take their children on a vacation
overseas last year, she didn't think for a minute it might be the last
time she would ever see them.
She
was in shock when several days later, her husband telephoned to say he
was not coming home.
"I
never expected him to take the kids," says Hardy (not her real
name), a Calgary mother who requested anonymity to protect her
children's safety.
"I couldn't believe somebody could be that cruel."
This
week Hardy sat in her apartment surrounded by red geraniums and a
French impressionist painting of blooming flowers, and talked about
her ordeal.
She
spoke quietly about her initial reactions.
Anger.
Shock.
Disbelief.
And for the next week, almost constant crying.
"I
couldn't believe he was so blind as to how much he would be hurting
the children.
I felt helpless.
I knew the RCMP and the government could not do a whole lot.
What could they do?"
She
worked the telephone frantically searching for answers and borrowed
every book in the library about parental child abduction.
She soon discovered she was not alone.
After
watching Not Without My Daughter, a Hollywood movie starring Sally
Field, who plays an American woman whose daughter is abducted by her
husband, Hardy stopped crying.
"I became determined to get them back."
Every
year in Canada an estimated 400 children are criminally abducted by a
parent.
Police and government officials don't know how many of those
are taken out of the country.
But
Barb Snider, eastern Canada case director for Calgary-based Missing
Children's Society of Canada, a non-profit organization that helps
find children, says the estranged parent who is able to spirit a child
across any border is very difficult to catch.
"Ten
years ago we used to think 'international' was a Canadian child taken
to the United States," she says.
"Now we're getting more and more cases of children located
in foreign countries.
"Parental
child abduction is not on the increase.
However, we're locating children in countries that are further
and further away."
The
reasons cited include diverse immigration patterns, an increasing
number of inter-cultural marriages, and a growing global economy where
people easily find jobs on the other side of the world.
Circumstances
vary.
For instance, in some cultures, if a man to loses his children,
he loses social status.
A man comes to North America for a better life and it doesn't
materialize.
His marriage sours.
Fearful that the courts might give custody of the children to
the mother, the father sometimes feels it's easier to abduct the
children, return to his former life and save face.
A
foreign country may grant the child dual citizenship. Legally and
culturally, it may favor the rights of the abducting parent --
especially if the state disapproves of the religion of the parent who
is left behind.
No
matter.
Abduction is a serious violation of a child's rights, says
Agnes Casselman, of International Social Service Canada, a non-profit
agency which regularly deals with missing children.
Separation
from family severely affects the child's life and damages his or her
sense of security.
"Increasingly,
family breakdowns result in children being suddenly uprooted and being
taken to unfamiliar foreign settings," Casselman writes in an
issue of the RCMP's Missing Children's Registry's quarterly
newsletter.
"This
creates confusion, upset, anger and despair as the children are faced
with adjusting to a new culture, language and home environment.
The loss and trauma of the abduction causes irreparable harm to
the child and to the family left behind."
And
while the mechanisms for recovering children have improved, the
process can be long, laborious and frustrating beyond belief for the
wronged parent.
"I
think its probably has to be your worst nightmare," says Calgary
lawyer Max Blitt, one of the city's authorities on parental child
abduction.
It's
a problem he takes so seriously, Blitt will work without a fee to help
parents recover their children from other provinces or overseas.
As
a former director of Child Find Alberta, he'd like to see more
international and inter-provincial co-operation and uniformity on the
issue.
Two weeks ago, he urged the Alberta government to take a
leadership role on the issue.
"More
and more countries are coming on side," he says.
"We're
getting more and more evidence of the psychological damage this is
doing to children."
Twenty
years ago, society's attitude was to turn a blind eye if a parent took
his/her own child, he says.
Now, it's socially unacceptable and it's criminal.
Many
custodial parents eventually regain their children; but others never
do.
"I
lost my kid for an hour and I was a wreck," says Eric Sommerfeldt,
executive director of Child Find Alberta, one of several non-profit
organizations involved in helping parents recover their children.
"For
them it goes on day after day after day, never-ending."
Ever
since the abduction, Jane Hardy's life has drifted between reality and
unreality. Sometimes she thinks, "Yes, I do have kids and they
really have disappeared and I can't believe this is happening to
me."
Her
husband came to Canada on a student visa in the early 1980s from an
Islamic country on the other side of the world.
The two met here at college.
She
found him charming, generous, extravagant and extremely polite.
He was talkative; she was quiet.
Within
months they were engaged and a year later, they married -- twice; once
in a Christian church and again at an Islamic mosque.
Their
first child was born within a year; then came a second.
Typical
domestic arguments began soon after marriage.
They were infrequent but she found them difficult to deal with.
For
a while she endeavored to live as a Muslim, wearing long dresses and
head coverings.
"For
10 years, I didn't wear shorts, or short-sleeved blouses, or skirts
above my knees.
I always wore colored stockings."
She
adopted a subservient attitude to maintain peace and quiet.
"But I thought it was only a matter of time before we'd go
our separate ways.
I knew it wasn't going to last forever."
Early
on in the marriage, they agreed that her husband could go home
periodically to visit his family.
It never occurred to her that he would abduct the children.
Hardy's
not alone.
There are dozens of Canadians like her.
Such as Vancouver pharmacist and businessman Ron Reddy.
Shortly
after Valentine's Day, Reddy alleges his wife, Nadia, abducted their
18-month-old daughter, Yasmine, and took her to Jordan.
"I
don't eat.
I don't sleep.
I don't think of anything but recovering my daughter,"
Reddy said in a telephone interview from Jordan.
"When
a parent loses a child, it's probably the worst pain a parent can go
through."
Reddy's
efforts have included enlisting the support of Canadian politician Bob
Mills, the Reform party's foreign affairs critic, hoping to bring
political pressure on the Jordanian government to intervene on Reddy's
behalf and allow him to bring his daughter home to Canada.
"What
I hope to do is to get someone officially working in Foreign Affairs
who can work with parents to open up channels in other countries that
are not normally available," says Mills, who is championing the
issue in the House of Commons.
Reddy
met his future wife, Nadia, at a social function during Christmas of
1993; they married two months later.
"We met, we fell in love, we got married," he says
matter-of-factly. Yasmine was born two years later.
Four
days after their wedding anniversary and two days after Valentine's
Day this year, Reddy says his wife, an American citizen who is a
landed immigrant in Canada, disappeared with their daughter while her
family was visiting the couple.
Reddy
believes her father persuaded her to leave Canada.
He acknowledges there were differences between the two men.
But
Nadia, in a telephone interview from Jordan, said she left Reddy
because he was abusive.
She added that her family was not visiting when she decided to
flee.
Nadia
said she flew to Jordan on her own, after informing the RCMP and a
lawyer.
She planned to stay with family, rest and then return to Canada
and obtain a divorce.
"My
father had nothing to do with my leaving.
It was because I don't want to live with him (Reddy) anymore.
I was scared of him," she said.
Nadia
says she informed Reddy of her whereabouts through friends.
But Reddy said he was forced to track Nadia down in Jordan, her
father's homeland where he is a real estate developer.
Reddy
then obtained a custody order in the B.C. Supreme Court and the RCMP
issued a Canada-wide warrant for his estranged wife's arrest, which is
registered with Interpol.
He
also made an application under the Hague Convention on the Civil
Aspects of International Child Abduction.
Forty-eight countries have signed the convention, in which
signatory countries recognize each other's child custody laws.
But Jordan, a tiny Middle Eastern country bordering Israel, is
not a signatory.
In
March, Reddy flew to Jordan to try to recover his daughter.
Since then he's seen Yasmine a half-dozen times.
"All
my efforts have been stone-walled by influence-peddling and petty
bribes to key officials," says Reddy.
"They've threatened my life."
But
like many of these cases, the issues are contentious on both sides.
Nadia, who has four lawyers on the case, says it is Reddy who
has bribed key officials and threatened her.
In
early September, Reddy says he was preparing to return to Canada when
he was detained after a complaint was laid accusing him of being an
"Israeli Jew" involved in suspicious activities, a charge
that he says was tossed out of court last week.
His passport was also taken.
Reddy,
who is Christian, says it was another attempt by his wife's family to
harass him into dropping the case.
But
Nadia says Reddy was stopped because of a harassment suit she laid
against him which is still before the courts.
"He was banging on the doors, harassing me.
He cannot leave the country because of that, not because of
suspicion of being an Israeli Jew."
Meanwhile,
Reddy says he was granted supervised access by a Jordanian court on
Sept. 28 and soon expects to be allowed to see Yasmine for one or two
hours in a small room at a children's social services office.
Nadia
says no access order has been granted.
"According to my knowledge, nothing like that has
happened."
"Every
time I see my daughter, it's very, very difficult," Reddy says,
choked with emotion.
"I
try to make her happy.
I play with her. I
hold her.
I walk with her.
"She
recognizes me as someone who cares for her; she doesn't pull away from
me. I
try and show her that I care about her.
"Even
though inside I'm burning, I try and stay calm.
It's the most frustrating thing on the face of the planet.
Every day that passes, I'm more and more concerned about her
well-being."
Nadia
says Yasmine is doing fine.
"She talks right now.
She eats a lot.
She has a lot of attention, a lot of love."
Nadia
wants a divorce.
She's willing to give Reddy supervised access.
"When
I'm safe and my daughter's safe, then I'll be at peace.
I'd do anything for my baby.
"My
daughter is my flesh and blood.
She's not anybody's prize."
When
Reddy gets his passport back, he plans to fly back to Canada where his
first stop will be Ottawa.
There
he'll join other parents from across the country who have had their
children abducted. Reform's Bob Mills is planning a news conference
later this month with the parents to draw attention to their plight.
Reddy
is lobbying Prime Minister Jean Chretien to ask Jordan's King Hussein
to allow Yasmine, a Canadian citizen, to return to Canada with him.
Under Jordanian law a child retains the citizenship of the
father.
He
cites the 1989 United Nations' Convention on the Rights of the Child
-- signed by Jordan -- which stipulates that a child has the right to
regular access to both parents.
According to the Swiss-based International Social Services
terminating that parental relationship can cause irreparable harm.
Reddy
has sent letters to several MPs asking for help.
"The
(Canadian) embassy is willing, but it has been stonewalled by
Ottawa," he says.
"It's up to Ottawa to really push this case along.
Foreign
Affairs spokeswoman Valerie Neftle declined to say whether Chretien
will intervene.
But
Michael Malloy, the Canadian ambassador in Jordan, is well-acquainted
with Reddy's situation.
"There's
is almost nothing that we see over here that is more
gut-wrenching," says Malloy. "But there are real limits as
to what we can do."
Canadian
law ends at the Canadian border.
The embassy arranged a meeting between Reddy, his wife and his
daughter, it has appealed to Jordanian officials and it has gone to
court with him.
"There's
nothing we see come through our doors that are as aggravating and
emotionally draining," says Malloy.
"There's nothing that punches our people between the eyes
like this one."
There
are a lot of people doing child recovery," says Ahmad Soliman, a
former US Marine and now director of Middle Eastern Operations for CTC
International Group Inc.
"They do it the hard way."
Soliman
(not his real name), left the Marine Corps to join the CIA's career
training program and became a clandestine operations officer in the
Middle East.
He now employs his skills with CTC.
When
diplomacy fails, frustrated parents sometimes turn to businesses like
CTC International who use covert techniques to help recover a child.
Other organizations utilize commandos who simply go into a
foreign country and snatch the child back.
But Soliman insists CTC is not a commando operation.
CTC
got into the business of recovering children almost by accident.
The
West Palm Beach, Florida organization was established in 1992 by
Frederick Rustmann Jr., a former spy who retired after a 24-year
career as a member of the elite Senior Intelligence Service of the
U.S. Central Intelligence Agency.
Rustmann's
intention was to take the skills, resources and contacts of spycraft,
add private enterprise, and apply them to the private sector in
gathering business intelligence, protecting intellectual property,
undertaking due diligence appraisals and risk assessments, and
handling counter-intelligence problems.
One
day, a client approached them and asked for help in recovering a
kidnapped child.
"It's
essential to conduct the operation with the least amount of danger,
without jeopardizing the children, parents or officers," says
Soliman.
"It's
very easy to go and bust doors down.
The problem is that you end up in jail.
The primary objective is to be able to enjoy life without going
to jail and repatriate the kid."
That
means careful planning, intelligence gathering and surveillance, as
well as calling on the help of other ex-CIA members and contacts
around the world.
And it means operating within the law.
"We
never ever touch the child without the parent being there and the
parent has to have the proper documentation."
During
the past five years, they've handled about two dozen cases (none from
Canada) with an 80 to 85 per cent success rate.
Apart
from the non-profit organizations, there are individuals and groups
which charge anywhere between $50,000 and $100,000 US to recover a
child.
Soliman says CTC charges $1,200 to $1,500 a day and the bill
usually totals between $10,000 and $20,000.
"We
do not take every child recovery case.
They are carefully selected."
There
are no promises.
"The only thing I can guarantee is I will try and recover
the child."
There's
no such thing as an impossible case, given enough time and money, says
Soliman. The problem is, they run out of time and money.
Money
is important.
"You can't extricate somebody for $2,000."
Jane
Hardy's attempts to recover her children have been fraught with
frustration.
She
contacted Foreign Affairs.
She filed a missing children's report.
She applied to Legal Aid for a lawyer.
She
contacted the Central Authority, the name given to the government
office in each province charged with applying the Hague Convention on
the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction.
She
obtained an interim custody order for her children.
Then
she enlisted the aid of Donna Foster, who runs the Washington,
D.C.-based Coming Home International, a small organization which helps
parents with intercultural mediation.
Foster,
37, came to Calgary earlier this year in an attempt to raise funds for
Hardy's cause.
In
a fundraising letter to more than two dozen Calgary churches Hardy
pleaded:
"How
would you feel if you were a child being held hostage by your father,
unable to talk to your mother, unable to eat your favorite foods,
unable to play with your friend, or say your prayers at night?
"This
is the situation for my two children . . . As a mother I live this
nightmare every day."
Foster
wanted to raise $30,000 for airfare and other expenses involved in
retrieving Hardy's children through diplomatic channels.
On
one of the coldest nights in January, Foster regaled about 70 people
at a Saturday evening gathering in a small church in southeast Calgary
about her own successful efforts to recover her son, Sam, who had been
abducted to Pakistan by his father in the early 1990s.
Through
family and government contacts, determination and blind luck, Foster
succeeded over a period of several months in eventually bringing Sam
back to the U.S.
By
the time Foster left Calgary, the church fund raiser collected about
$1,000.
Since
then, Foster and Hardy have examined a variety of ways of recovering
the Calgary children, to no avail.
For
parents like Reddy, nothing anyone does seems quite enough, especially
the actions of their national government.
In fact, Hardy, herself, is critical of the federal government
lack of effectiveness.
But
most people in the field applaud Canada's efforts, especially compared
to the U.S.
"The Canadian system is super compared to the
American," says Eric Sommerfeldt, executive director of Child
Find Alberta.
"It's a national disgrace down there.
Most people think the Canadian government does a damn good
job."
That's
because 20 years ago a group of Canadian diplomats proposed the Hague
Convention on the Civil Aspects of International Child Abduction.
Since then it has evolved into the most powerful legal weapon
available to parents facing an overseas kidnapping.
More
than 300 abducted children have been returned to Canada since the
Hague Convention was signed in 1983.
And Foreign Affairs says there are about 200 cases still
ongoing under the convention.
It's
so effective that in some cases the paper work has been completed
before the abducting parent lands with the children in the new
country.
The
convention is basically an extradition treaty designed to secure the
prompt return of children wrongfully removed or retained in another
country; and ensure the rights of custody and access under the laws of
one country are respected by the other.
So
far 48 countries have signed the Hague Convention.
The
most difficult abduction cases to solve involve those countries who
have not signed the convention, such as in the Middle East or eastern
Europe.
Usually they haven't signed because their laws, culture,
customs, and religion are very different from those who have signed.
To
help parents, Canada's Foreign Affairs department has published a
28-page manual for parents, which is now available on the Internet,
outlining in considerable detail what to do if a child is abducted.
One
thing the department and non-profit agencies strongly advise against
is re-abduction, terming it desperate and often illegal.
"Such
action could further endanger your child and others, prejudice any
future legal efforts and result in your arrest and imprisonment in
another country."
The
greater percentage of parentally-abducted children are recovered, says
Barbara Snider, case director in eastern Canada for Calgary-based
Missing Children's Society of Canada.
The non-profit agency works strictly within the law of all
countries involved, using whatever social, legal, diplomatic and
mediation services are available.
Non-profit
agencies like Missing Children's work with family members, diplomats,
military, police, social workers, paramilitary forces to secure access
and negotiate an agreement.
"The
time can vary," she says.
"If they're in a 'non-Hague' country (not signatory to the
Hague Convention), it can take much longer.
"You
never give up," says Snider.
"You keep the alert out there."
At
first, Hardy called her children a couple of times a week.
But it became too hard for her to talk to them and so, in
recent months, she has stopped calling.
"They
keep asking when I'm going to come?" she says.
"What do you say after a while?"
Initially,
her husband insisted that she come to live with him.
But his homeland is a developing nation whose culture,
religion, customs, political process and standard of living are at the
opposite end of the spectrum from Canada.
"I want the kids but I'm not crazy enough to think I could
adjust to that life."
Donna
Foster is a good support, almost an older sister, says Hardy, who is
saving money and biding her time wondering what she will do next.
"I
trust she knows what she's doing because she's done it with
others."
Since
enlisting Foster's help, she's spent more than $45,000, money raised
mostly from family and friends.
"It's
a lot of money but you can't put a price on your kids."
When
her husband left, he cleaned out their savings, maxed out their credit
cards and left with about $40,000.
"He
has enough money to keep him sitting wonderfully for five or six
years."
But
Hardy remains optimistic that she'll see her children again.
"I
trust it will have a happy ending."
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