Articles and Related Media

A Lesson in Security

>By Ed Muise, Unit Manager, Dorchester Penitentiary and Bill Rankin, Communications Officer, Communications and Consultation Sector
Photos: Ed Muise
(March 2002)

Under the CSC/CIDA agreement, Ed Muise completed a 3-month stint in Kosovo from June to September 2000 as director of recruitment and training for the Kosovo Correctional Service. He returned to Kosovo in January 2001 on a 6-month contract with the United Nations, as director of the Mitrovica Detention Centre in northern Kosovo.

While most citizens of Pristina were still in their beds, Ed Muise was behind the wheel of his United Nations (UN) Toyota 4-Runner, headed for the northern city of Mitrovica to start his workday as director of the Mitrovica Detention Centre (MDC). It was a journey that could take anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour, depending on what he got stuck behind - farm tractors, horses and wagons, or the ever-present convoys of military vehicles.

A STRONG MILITARY PRESENCE
As Muise approached Mitrovica, the military presence grew more conspicuous. Each work-day, he ran a gauntlet of heavily fortified checkpoints - narrow, zigzag courses complete with tire-shredding spike belts and armed French soldiers, part of the 7,300-strong KFOR (Kosovo Forces) trying to sustain law and order in a troubled land. The tenuous UN-brokered peace was occasionally interrupted by violent flare-ups between the two ethnic factions or between factions and the military.

Sporadic unrest was something the civilian population was forced to cope with. At each checkpoint, Muise was required to produce his official documents and United Nations identity card, each carefully examined before the soldiers waved him through. Once past the final obstacle, he steered north across the East Bridge over the Ibar River that divides the city in two - Albanian Kosovars on the south side and Serbian Kosovars on the north - an ethnic gulf far deeper and wider than the river itself.

Surveillance and security measures didn't end once Muise reached the north side. A network of Serbian paramilitary sentries, known by locals as the Bridge Watchers, scanned traffic from sidewalk vantage points, trying to spot Albanians brave or foolhardy enough to venture into Serb territory. Such wayward travelers, if discovered, were lucky to make it back to the south side of the river with their lives.

MAINTAINING SECURITY
The Mitrovica Detention Centre is neatly tucked into the back streets of the city's northern quarter, inside a fenced compound shared with a French infantry battalion. The French tanks, armoured personnel carriers and other military hardware were a reassuring presence for the international prison staff but also a daily reminder that Mitrovica is a dangerous place to make a living.

Once inside, Muise called together his administration staff to go over the events of the previous 24 hours and to assign daily tasks: searching cells, dealing with inmate complaints, and accompanying construction contractors. After the brief huddle, Muise began his rounds, moving from one area of the Centre to another, ensuring that his disparate, multi-national staff was following sound correctional practices. When he first assumed the job of director, Muise had made it clear that he would not tolerate any human rights violations for the sake of order. "There are many international police officers in Kosovo," Muise explained. "Long before I got here it was decided to staff the MDC with 66 of them. This created a challenge because police aren't used to being prison keepers. They're not trained for it and they have little experience. To add to the challenge, there was a steady turnover of officers from various parts of the globe - Bangladesh, Ghana, Nigeria, Russia, Bulgaria, Egypt and Canada. There were many differences in abilities and expectations, but we worked together as a team and earned a reputation for humane practices and the tightest security in the Kosovo Correctional Service."

Security was indeed a priority in a place that mirrored the state of affairs in the entire city. The facility, holding a maximum of 52 inmates, was divided in two - Kosovar Albanians on the second floor and Kosovar Serbs, some convicted of genocide and other war crimes, occupying the ground level.

Muise described the charged atmosphere inside the Centre as similar to that found in the rest of Mitrovica - "a perpetual state of tense calm." Complete separation of the ethnic groups was essential for the sake of order.

"It's a compliment to CSC that the management of Mitrovica Detention Centre has been entrusted almost exclusively to CSC staff members on contract with the UN," Muise commented. "CSC employees have gained international respect for their unique skills and abilities."

DAILY PROBLEMS
Apart from the ethnic strife, there were more routine headaches caused by unreliable utilities: taps and toilets would suddenly go dry due to unscheduled water shutoffs and, with-out warning, electrical failures could plunge the entire prison into darkness for long, anxious seconds before backup generators kicked in.

A resourceful Canadian director who preceded Muise, Cal MacAusland, constructed a 30,000-gallon concrete reservoir that was being hooked up during Muise's tenure, promising a steady supply of fresh water.

Staff made do with two electrical generators until a special power line was installed to keep the entire facility humming, with few interruptions.

A HIGH-PROFILE INSTITUTION
Due to the Centre's notoriety, Muise played host to a constant stream of visitors, his day frequently consumed by guiding tours of the facility and fielding questions from the Red Cross, the UN Commissioner for Human Rights, and local or international judges and prosecutors. Court observers from the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe were in and out on a regular basis, advising Serbian prisoners on the progress of their trials.

LIVING DANGEROUSLY
In April 2001, the Bridge Watchers protested the imposition of a UN-sanctioned duty on all goods coming into Kosovo by mobilizing their paramilitary troops and barricading the main traffic arteries in and out of north Mitrovica. For MDC employees, this spelled major difficulties in travelling across the East Bridge and reporting for work. After the barricades went up, it was three long days before staff inside the Centre could finally be relieved. On the third day, despite threats from the Bridge Watchers, Muise and his men, outfitted in bullet-proof vests, managed to hitch rides across the river on military vehicles. They were dropped off at an engineer base within 600 metres of the detention centre with the understanding that they would make their own way from there. It was an unnerving walk down an exposed roadway, past apartment buildings that could have easily concealed a sniper's nest.

"It was one of the very few times in Kosovo that I actually felt I was in danger," said Muise. Fortunately, there was no gunfire directed their way. The French KFOR remained in a state of high alert during the entire 32-day protest; the battalion at the detention centre sealed off the front and back of the compound by rolling tanks into the entranceways, and soldiers donned full riot gear in case of attack.

"I definitely felt threatened," Muise recalls. "But I also felt a deep commitment to my staff and the safety of the inmates. The French soldiers assured us that they would defend our perimeter and our property. In an atmosphere like north Mitrovica, you came to realize the importance of fostering and maintaining good partnerships!"

LESSONS LEARNED
Muise says that his experience in Kosovo taught him many things: a new appreciation for the freedom of Canada, its riches, and its spirit of tolerance. However, he found some difficulty re-adjusting to his job as unit manager at Dorchester Institution.

"Our correctional service is so advanced that a lot of the work I was doing in Mitrovica was done eons ago in Canada. I miss the challenges in Kosovo and the tangible achievements we made at the Mitrovica Detention Centre. I miss the 'unknowns' and the kind of stress that got my adrenaline pumping. Compared to Kosovo, my job at Dorchester is not as exciting."

It's the same reaction that many inter-national peacekeepers experience upon their return to North America. Canadian police officers have coined a term for the phenomenon: "job shrink." Muise feels that the skills he acquired overseas could be put to good use within CSC, if only there was some way of channeling them.

"I think that my experience has prepared me for advancement," he commented. "I've qualified for the deputy warden's list and hopefully I will get an opportunity at some point. In hindsight, I wished that I'd had some special project to go to when I returned."

In the meantime, Muise is enjoying his family life. "I owe thanks to my managers at CSC for supporting me. I'm grateful for the experiences I had and for the support of my son and my wife, Susan. For nine months in 2000-2001, she carried on with her job at CSC, managed our household and took on the role of single parent while I chased my dream and lived out this adventure."