Remembering David Petrasek

Before there were UN Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights, there was a 184-page report, called Beyond Voluntarism, published in 2002 by the International Council on Human Rights Policy (ICHRP). That report said in clear language why we needed to think beyond the goodwill of companies and their voluntary efforts if we are to have a just and humane world, where they don’t commit, contribute to, or benefit from human rights abuses and in fact respect human rights.

David Petrasek was at the ICHRP at that time. He steered that - still very relevant - report from its conception to its publication, assembling a great team of scholars and researchers, commissioning regional studies, organising consultations, synthesising the findings, and working with his terrific colleague, Nick Howen, who drafted the text, and prepared a piece that offered the blueprint, the road-map, for the business and human rights movement.

David’s genius lay in understanding the gaps between rhetoric and reality.

His passing today, after battling with cancer, is an enormous loss not only to the business and human rights community, not only to the broader human rights movement, not only to those who were lucky enough to have known and worked with him, but to countless victims of human rights abuses and vulnerable people, whose conditions have improved because of the development of safeguards and standards across the human rights spectrum, and in the conceiving and drafting of which David played such a crucial part.

David shone like a bright candle that cast light all around. He was kind, gentle, loving, and loyal. I came to human rights from the world of journalism and economics; he made me look at the world differently. He taught me much that I know today about human rights and civil liberties. He understood the meaning of freedom and empathised with those who suffered. He brought the voices of refugees, the tortured, the dispossessed, the imprisoned, and the discriminated, to the highest forums of the world. He combined intellect with passion; his arguments and interventions were elegant and heartfelt. He could see the practical way forward and develop collective thinking, bringing together people who might otherwise disagree with one another. He had the sense of wonder of a child, the curiosity of a student, the energy of an athlete, and the wisdom of a sage.

He had the sense of wonder of a child, the curiosity of a student, the energy of an athlete, and the wisdom of a sage.

The international architecture of human rights is formal and rich with rituals. Making them meaningful for human rights defenders, advocates, activists, journalists, and trade unionists is a real challenge, an art. And David’s genius lay in understanding the gaps between rhetoric and reality.

So while he worked at the highest levels of human rights policy – at the ICHRP, at the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, at Amnesty International, at the Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue, as a professor at the University of Ottawa, and editing the brilliant Open Global Rights platform - he was keenly aware of the need to hear the voices of those who truly mattered. He understood the resistance of human rights lawyers and scholars who were worried about mission creep affecting the human rights discourse, and zealously guarded the human rights instruments as though those were Delphic Oracles. While understanding them, he instinctively figured out their limitations. "The cry for justice worldwide was not so much a question of rights inflation, but a call for respecting dignity", David wrote in one of his last essays. That spirit took him to the World Social Forum in Porto Alegre, to villages in the Philippines, as well as meeting victims of abuses in many other parts of the world.

He listened to their voices, worked for their empowerment, and shaped those arguments in ways that advanced our collective thinking – be it about human rights responsibilities of armed groups, the relationship between human rights and social justice, and indeed, about business and human rights.

He listened to their voices, worked for their empowerment, and shaped those arguments in ways that advanced our collective thinking.

My colleague Scott Jerbi had known him since 1997, and told me today he could not forget his first impression of David: “A tall guy with a booming voice, a new kid then on the block at the UN schooling us all on the connections between human rights and development and why we needed to speak out more on the subject.”

At Amnesty, where I first met David in 1999 and worked with him closely, he took my assorted grab-bag ideas of what companies should do if they invest in Iraq under occupation and what their responsibilities were and helped us produce a report, On Whose Behalf?  He shaped Amnesty’s thinking on economic, social, and cultural rights by advocating the principle of indivisibility. He helped the organisation think through what it should say about economic sanctions. He pushed Amnesty to think about corruption. And he guided me as I researched human rights principles regarding privatisation of essential services.

Much that I have learned about human rights is due to him. He gave everyone the space to think and speak; his mind always open but his belief and commitment to human rights unwavering; he believed that in human rights, where you want to go is more important than what thought processes you deploy to get there. It did not mean that ends justified the means; rather, that there are many paths leading to a just conclusion, there is no one best way.

David believed that we may come from different life experiences, differing cultural backgrounds, may have different preconceived notions, and varied approaches to looking at things. But those committed to human rights believe in equality for all, respecting the dignity of each of us, but also to ensure that the playing field is made level and access is not denied to anyone. And if someone is unable to get access, remove the barriers.

David had a strong sense of justice – in recent months we had talked of the bizarre time we are living in; how the pandemic is giving an opportunity to authoritarian leaders to pass more draconian laws and reduce the protection for human rights. David was fully engaged in those conversations; was excited about the report IHRB was preparing on business responsibility in the time of COVID-19. Even as his health suffered, his attention never wavered; and he made us believe that another world is possible.

Thinking with crystalline clarity, identifying the main issues, distilling the essence, and stating forthrightly what needs saying to advance respect for human rights, with a firm belief that tomorrow will be better and more just – that was David Petrasek.

Ten years ago we were in Geneva at a memorial event for Nick Howen, his friend, neighbour, and colleague who had died. Speaking there, David recounted a walk they had, engrossed in conversation about human rights while walking through the breathtaking Welsh countryside. David felt a bit tired and suggested they pause, and Nick would say, no, there is this fine pub I know at the end of the trail, let us keep walking. And they’d talk more and get more absorbed and pass the pub and not notice it, and realise only an hour later. And David would suggest, let us pause, and Nick would say, no, no, there is this great pub, let us walk further.

Then David paused, his voice grew softer. And he said Nick walked fast, and now he had left us behind, and he was probably at the pub, waiting.

And now David has walked further than all of us, leaving us behind. He went away too soon.

Thinking with crystalline clarity, identifying the main issues, distilling the essence, and stating forthrightly what needs saying to advance respect for human rights, with a firm belief that tomorrow will be better and more just – that was David Petrasek. I will miss him.

Image: University of Ottawa