After the abuse stops, survivors continue to carry effects long after the physical wounds have healed: stigma, economic struggles, broken relationships and institutions that fail to help them recover.
Originally published by PassBlue, a women-led nonprofit newsroom that covers the U.N. and global women’s rights.
There is no shortage of cases of torture in the headlines. The details are grim, as always: abuse behind closed doors, lives irrevocably altered, justice pursued years—sometimes decades—too late. Across today’s crises, from Ukraine to Sudan, Myanmar to Gaza, allegations of torture and ill treatment are especially graphic.
But once a legal case closes or the news cycle moves on, another story begins. It is quieter and less visible: What happens to those who survive torture?
… While the world has banned torture, survivors are often neglected or sidelined. A new charter written by people who have experienced this most violent of crimes sets out their demands to the world to help them recover.
Dr. Alice Jill Edwards, the first female U.N. special rapporteur on torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment
As the United Nations special rapporteur on torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment, I have met survivors from all walks of life and from across the world—in rehabilitation centers, refugee communities and legal clinics—who carry its effects long after the physical wounds have healed.
What they have told me is that after they survive torture, they must confront a second struggle: to be believed, to gain access to care, to navigate complex institutions and to obtain legal recognition. Survivors spoke about the stigma, economic struggles and the breakdown of relationships.
International law is rightly proud of the absolute prohibition of torture. It is one of the clearest, most universally accepted norms we have: There are no justifications, no exceptions, no circumstances under which it is permitted. The right to rehabilitation and reparation is also well established in international human rights law.
Yet while the world has banned torture, survivors are often neglected or sidelined. A new charter written by people who have experienced this most violent of crimes sets out their demands to the world to help them recover.
Countries are obliged not only to prevent torture, but also to ensure that victims receive redress, including the means for as full a recovery as possible. Yet there is a profound gap between the prohibition against torture and being truly free from its torment. Too often, torture is treated as an event—something that happens in a prison cell, an interrogation room or a conflict zone—and ends when the abuse stops. That is far from survivors’ realities.
People tortured as children may still bear the shame as adults. Individuals with permanent disabilities caused by torture must navigate this constant reminder and double burden.
Shireen Khudeeda, a Yazidi child survivor of sexual enslavement by the terrorist group Daesh and a human rights defender, spoke to me about how her suffering continues while members of her community taken by the terrorists remain unaccounted for. Ten years later, around 2,600 Yazidi and other victims have not been found.
A former Bahraini politician, Jawad Fairooz, described how after enduring 45 days of beatings, torture and solitary confinement, he was stripped of his nationality while visiting Britain, a secondary punishment that has long-lasting effects on his life to this day.
Another survivor, Donatien Ndabigeze, narrowly escaped an execution attempt that killed his wife and cousin and that was perpetrated by Burundian soldiers at his home in Bujumbura. He told me that waiting for justice can be “unbearable.”
seems to be the goal of some governments, hoping that through delays and unreasonable procedural formalities, survivors and their legal claims will go away.
Similar stories of the profound impact of torture have been shared with me, and I have met hundreds of survivors during my mandate. Over the past three years, I convened regional hearings—in Bogotá, Nairobi and Kathmandu—which brought together 42 survivors from 36 different nationalities. A further 120 survivor-led organizations as well as individuals wrote to my mandate about how survivor care and consultation could be improved.
Too often, torture is treated as an event—something that happens in a prison cell, an interrogation room or a conflict zone—and ends when the abuse stops. That is far from survivors’ realities.
From these conversations, the first global Charter of Rights for Victims and Survivors of Torture and other cruelty was born, which I presented to the 61st session of the Human Rights Council in March.
The charter sets out a practical framework, a kind of bill of rights, for what justice and recovery should look like from survivors’ perspectives. The charter insists on access to specialized healthcare, long-term psychological support, legal recognition, financial stability, human-centered justice, truth-telling and reconciliation. Above all, they are demanding to participate in decisions that affect their lives.
At the heart of the Charter of Rights for Victims and Survivors of Torture is a clear, consistent position: Survivors are calling for meaningful involvement in designing laws, policies, humanitarian programs and rehabilitation services not as an afterthought but as equal partners.
Involvement would include formalizing their role in national and international efforts, ensuring diverse voices are represented, including women and other marginalized survivors, and providing direct funding to survivor-led organizations, so they can engage effectively.
The U.N. has built a powerful legal and moral consensus against torture. The Survivors’ Charter is the missing piece in the global campaign to end torture and other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. It represents an historic shift, from law written about survivors, to norms shaped by them.
Resounding support was expressed for the charter by countries speaking at the Human Rights Council in March, alongside supportive statements from the Global Alliance of National Human Rights Institutions, the Inter-Parliamentary Union and civil society organizations.
My ambition is that this document will become an internationally endorsed standard, complementary to the U.N. Basic Principles and Guidelines on right to a remedy and reparation for atrocity crimes.
For survivors, this step is not abstract. It is about whether they can sleep at night. Whether they can work. Whether their societies can heal. And whether they can regain the lives they had hoped to lead.
The question now is which countries and international organizations are prepared not only to condemn torture but also to stand with—and learn from—those who have survived it.
