Eleanor Roosevelt's Work for Universal Human Rights

Eleanor Roosevelt’s Personal Account of the UN’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights in December

To be honest, life just was not the same after I lost Franklin in April 1945 and in many ways, I was devastated by his loss (Marsico, 2008). Though Franklin and I shared a rich partnership advancing human welfare, our marriage also faced some rocky periods I cannot ignore. I understood the political world he inhabited placed great pressures upon him, but that does not excuse his prolonged relationship with our secretary Lucy Mercer. Discovering their intimacy wounded me to my core. I nearly left Franklin then, though duty prevailed given his rising political ambitions.

In time, I made my peace with the situation, coming to value our work together above all. Yet Franklin\\\'s attachment to his driver Missy LeHand also hinted that he continued seeking emotional solace outside our marriage. I suppose men in high office often believe rules of fidelity don\\\'t apply to them. While I maintained cordial ties with Lucy and Missy for Franklin\\\'s sake, as a woman I felt the slight deeply. His secretaries saw more of my husband than I during those busy war years. The greater mission we shared combatting poverty, oppression and injustice, though, transcended these personal troubles (Urdang, 2008).

Looking back, I can say that the White House years were a testament to our collaborative approach to trying to make life better for all Americans, as I assumed an unprecedented public role for a First Lady by championing causes close to my heart, including civil rights, women’s rights, and humanitarian efforts. Likewise, Franklin’s historic presidency and my active involvement in various initiatives forged a unique and influential partnership that transcended traditional gender roles. Tragically, Franklin’s passing in 1945 marked the end of an era, but also represented a new period in my life that was characterized by a renewal of my commitment to humanitarian initiatives.

As a result, when I was appointed as Chair of the United Nations Commission on Human Rights in early 1946, I felt an enormous responsibility in those post-war years to ensure that global human rights were codified for generations to come. Indeed, I had witnessed the horrific abuses and atrocities of World War II firsthand and would like to think that I did my part by keeping troop morale up by visiting them in far-flung combat zones. In fact, some of my most meaningful experiences during the war years involved visiting our dear Allied troops overseas. Seeing our brave boys so far from home, often enduring miserable conditions that would test anyone’s mettle, forged an intense bond in my heart. Whether serving hot meals to weary soldiers, handing out blankets and care packages, or keeping spirits lifted with songs and laughter, I felt immense pride for those courageous fighters.

Yet the realities of war also weighed heavily as I witnessed its devastating toll firsthand. Bandaged bodies, impromptu surgeries in muddy tents, the haunted eyes of young men asked to grow up too quickly under fire - those images stay seared in one\\\'s mind. And the aftermath across decimated towns and cities, with civilians wandering debris-filled streets in desperate search of lost loved ones, reinforced war’s profound inhumanity. Those overseas visits fortified both my gratitude and sorrow simultaneously. I saw that our troops longed for nothing more than peace; the chance to return safely to family and home, far away from violence. It convicted me that as leaders, we had a solemn responsibility to pursue global harmony with the same vigor as waging war itself.

Taken together, I left those trips understanding peace was not simply the absence of conflict, but required ongoing effort and care of people’s basic needs. We owed war-weary citizens worldwide the food, shelter and stability for sustainable, dignified lives. I returned home with renewed purpose -- that establishing international alliances and human rights principles could foster the conditions for lasting peace.

Those courageous troops had suffered enough. We owed them and all citizens a more just global community, one which lifted people up rather than oppressing them in desperation. My visits strengthened my crusade for international cooperation, human rights and collective well-being across all nations. As a result of these experiences and seeing the images of liberation from the Nazi concentration camps left an indelible mark on my soul. I knew that we could never allow such crimes against humanity to happen again.

The drafting of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was a herculean task. I met with resistance and criticism from all sides - from those who felt it went too far to those who felt it didn\\\'t go far enough. In this regard, one modern historian reports that, “When the permanent Human Rights Commission convened in the fall of 1946, it promptly elected Eleanor Roosevelt as its chair. For the next two years, Eleanor dedicated most of her energy to commission duties. This required fierce patience and determination. Cold War politics frequently threatened to derail the process and then the adoption itself” (p. 34).

Yet, despite the seemingly unsurmountable obstacles arrayed against a universal declaration of human rights, I remained undeterred. Indeed, I can report with some degree of pride that I cajoled, I pleaded, I reasoned and negotiated. Slowly the tide began to turn as I won over leader after leader. My determination stemmed from my unshakable belief that human rights are not just Western or American ideals, but, like the Magna Carta, were universal ones that must be declared for all people in all nations (McFarland, 2017). In truth, I was fortunate enough at the time that the mainstream media seized on my “Magna Carta” reference since it clearly struck a universal nerve and I saw my own words about human rights repeated in the press time and again:

Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home—so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world. Yet they are the world of the individual person; the neighborhood he lives in; the school or college he attends; the factory, farm, or office where he works. Such are the places where every man, woman, and child seeks equal justice, equal opportunity, equal dignity without discrimination. Unless these rights have meaning there, they have little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world (as cited in Ignatieff, 2017, p. 3)..

Despite the challenges, the commission successfully presented the world with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that represented the culmination of all of the negotiations, hand-wringing and cajoling. This landmark document, the first of its kind, offered a comprehensive vision of the human rights inherent to every individual, but the entire process was not quick or easy, and some nations were far less willing to compromise than others (McFarland, 2018).

To the surprise of no one, some of the toughest negotiations I faced in drafting the Universal Declaration came from the Soviet bloc. Their constant suspicion and demand for governments to have authority over rights threatened the very heart of our human rights vision. I had to calmly but forcefully argue that rights belong innately to all people by virtue of being human, not due to government decree. The Soviets pushed hard for their language around state authority, yet I kept pressing back firmly until finally they conceded enough ground. Though not fully satisfied, I knew we could not let the perfect be the enemy of the good if lives were to be improved. While we all shared the goal of preventing the horrific human rights violations that tore through humanity during the war, the Soviets remained deeply skeptical of liberties that challenged state power (Glendon, 2014).

As a result, I spent hours upon hours debating key issues point by point with stoic Soviet representatives, who viewed rights as granted by government, not innate to all people. We wrangled over semantics, precise language and legal implications. They came armed to each meeting with extensive rebuttals to declarations from previous sessions. It was mentally and emotionally draining. Nevertheless, I would counter their arguments while highlighting aligned interests, slowly wearing them down through sheer perseverance. When talks stalled, I asked for recesses rather than adjourning, then worked the hallways and back channels, cajoling other delegates to press the Soviets. By demonstrating broad unified support, I made it increasingly difficult for the Soviets to cling to their opposition to the Declaration (Glendon, 2014).

By contrast – and again to the surprise of no one, some of the easiest negotiations proved to be with smaller or developing nations. Having thrown off the yoke of colonialism themselves through long struggles, they intrinsically embraced the concept of fundamental human rights. Nations like India and Lebanon aligned closely with the Declaration’s framing of inherent civil liberties tied to human dignity. They comprehended that human rights uplift us all, not imposing foreign values. The post-colonial world’s support strengthened the arguments in support of the Declaration’s passage by adding to its moral weight and universal applicability.

It is noteworthy that even friendly nations such as Britain and France posed challenges as they clung to outdated notions of empire and cultural superiority. Yet the carnage they had endured on home soil opened hearts and minds to our arguments. I had to try to understand each nation’s perspective to find common ground. Knowing when to gently persuade versus firmly insist made all the difference. Diplomacy is an art, but it is also cut from the same cloth as progress. Step by step, negotiation by negotiation over years, we slowly knit together a global consensus.

When it finally came time for the vote, my heart was pounding. As country after country voted to adopt the Declaration, tears of joy streamed down my cheeks. When it passed unanimously, I felt as though my soul could fly. As I heard the thunderous standing ovation from all the members of the General Assembly, I was overwhelmed by a sense that I had helped bend the moral arc of history towards authentic justice for everyone. In that transcendent moment, I knew that the long hard road had been worth it. We had shone a light so bright, enshrining in law those self-evident, inviolable rights, that such darkness as I saw in the war could never prevail on this earth again. In other words, I felt that I had done my small part in making the world a freer, more just home for all humankind.

In retrospect, I knew all along that this accomplishment would be enormously challenging, but a successful outcome would be the crowning achievement of my life so I persevered. These experiences also taught me some valuable lessons about human nature. Indeed, I would like to predict that as a result of the passage of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that the world enjoyed peace and increasing prosperity that was shared across the board, but I learned that nations, like mere humans, are motivated by powerful self-interests that defy even the most talented negotiators. In fact, Matthew 24:6-7 (KJV) was always in the back of my mind even as the negotiations about the Declaration wound to their successful conclusion: “And ye shall hear of wars and rumors of wars. … For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places.”

Alas, I fear that despite the passage of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, these predictions will come to pass in the years that follow me. It is my heartfelt hope, though, that the Declaration will serve as a framework in which the international community can come together in a neutral setting and resolve their inevitable differences in a peaceful fashion (Gilbert & Shollenberger, 2001). While the Universal Declaration’s passage in 1948 remains my life’s major achievement, I realized then that our work had only just begun. Bold vision means little without diligent implementation and ongoing follow-up to ensure success. Therefore, In the years that followed, I dedicated myself wholly in the subsequent years to ensuring the Declaration’s principles took tangible root by strengthening international institutions and organizations to uphold human rights globally (Luscombe, 2018).

In addition, I continued serving as head of the UN’s Human Rights Commission, working closely with our new High Commissioner on Human Rights. Together, we documented abuses worldwide, built cases against violations, and applied political pressure on offenders. Likewise, I advised the Commission and UN leadership on establishing critical legal frameworks including the European Convention on Human Rights and the Genocide Convention, thereby giving the Declaration some sorely needed enforceable teeth (Luscombe, 2018).

Further, I also spoke out vigorously as well whenever and wherever offenses occurred, rallying global condemnation. I understood that norms need consistent reinforcement, so I leveraged my visibility and credibility to publicly advocate for victims without pause. At the same time, I encouraged nations making progress, demonstrating these ideals’ practical power when woven into informed and enlightened policy and governance. We highlighted models while sanctioning especially egregious acts by both state and non-state actors. In addition, I helped create a global network of nongovernmental organizations which I called “the curious grapevine” that was tasked with communicating the ideas and concepts contained in the Declaration to all the nations of the world (Goodale, 2006, p. 485).