Tribute to Sergio - and his unsuccessful rescuers

By Daniel Nelson

A documentary about “the only top official in the UN known by his first name” sounds dull. But don’t be put off - Sergio is engrossing.

Sergio Vieira de Mello was the Brazilian go-to-guy who was giving a news conference in Baghdad when a huge truck bomb exploded, partly demolishing the building and killing Sergio and 16 others and wounding about 100 more.

Sergio probably shouldn’t have been there: he opposed the US invasion, and knew that the UN was in danger of being seen as supporting Washington’s reckless adventure and incompetent misrule in Iraq.

But he was a natural choice, having successfully led an occupied nation, East Timor, to independence, and he found the blandishments of President Bush and Condoleeza Rice and Kofi Annan irresistible.

The film glances at his life and times, including his support for the pavement-ripping 1968 student uprising in France (for which he was expelled from the country) before he took a series of UN posts. He worked in humanitarian and peacekeeping operations in Bangladesh, Cambodia, Cyprus, Kosovo, Lebanon, Mozambique, Peru and Sudan, and was High Commissioner for Human Rights when he was asked to take on a four-month assignment in Iraq. Director Greg Barker described him as "the most important guy you've never heard of."
Also described as “a cross between James Bond and Bobby Kennedy”, Sergio had good looks and charm and plenty of girlfriends. His abandoned wife and family refused to cooperate with the filmmakers.

Sergio’s glittering CV and glamour, however, would not justify a documentary. What makes the film, sadly, is the drama of the footage of the Baghdad bomb and its aftermath, and the gripping, fascinating telling of the story of his attempted rescue by two US army medics, Bill von Zehle and Andre Valentine. If you’re ever in a tight spot, these are the guys you want to turn up.

Sergio was not killed outright. He was trapped for hours under rubble with a refugee expert from the International Institute of Strategic Studies as their would-be rescuers worked tirelessly to free them and get them out of the deep, narrow shaft in which they were trapped.

The only tools available were a knife, a string and a woman’s purse. The lack of life-saving equipment says much about the unpreparedness of the US for realities in Iraq.

The re-telling of the rescue bid is the stuff of heroism and of nightmares, given an added twist by the differing personalities and approaches of the two soldiers. Valentine tried to use his religious faith to help Sergio, telling him God would get him out. F--- prayers, retorted Sergio - God got me into this situation.

As if all this is not harrowing and moving enough, the story is intercut with the recollections of Sergio’s fiancé, Carolina Larriera, who rushed to the scene after the blast, is held back by officials and soldiers on the chaotic site but who finally manages to shout to Sergio through a crack in the debris. It’s too late by then, and she gets only a faint response.

Larriera, who now runs an NGO, is clear and strong but her unfulfilled love and plans (“We were six weeks away from leaving Baghdad”) are heartbreaking. The humanity of all concerned, the bravery, the commitment, the tragedy, the loss – it’s a real tear-jerker.

At the end, there’s a nice tribute to the subject of the story: a UN colleague says that when confronted by problems, “officials still ask themselves: What would Sergio do?”

* Sergio is showing at the London Film Festival, at the BFI Southbank, on 19 and 21 October