Vincent Cochetel: I was held hostage for 317 days. Here's what I thought about…

譯者: 杏儀 歐陽 審譯者: Karen SONG

I cannot forget them.

這些人，我一個也忘不了。

Their names were Aslan, Alik, Andrei,

他們的名字是：Aslan、Alik、Andrei

Fernanda, Fred, Galina, Gunnhild,

Fernanda、Fred、Galina、Gunnhild

Hans, Ingeborg, Matti, Natalya,

Hans、Ingeborg、Matti、Natalya

Nancy, Sheryl, Usman, Zarema,

Nancy、Sheryl、Usman、Zarema

and the list is longer.

死亡名單還更長。

For many, their existence, their humanity,

對於他們當中許多人來說，

has been reduced to statistics,

他們的存在、人性被簡化成數據，

coldly recorded as "security incidents."

被冷漠地記錄成「安全事故」。

For me, they were colleagues

對於我來說，他們是同僚，

belonging to that community of humanitarian aid workers

共屬人道援助工作者的社群，

that tried to bring a bit of comfort

共同竭力為90年代車臣戰爭的受害者

to the victims of the wars in Chechnya in the '90s.

帶來一點安樂。

They were nurses, logisticians, shelter experts,

這些人是護士、後勤人員、庇護專家、

paralegals, interpreters.

律師助理、翻譯人員。

And for this service, they were murdered,

而正因他們提供的服務， 他們被謀殺了。

their families torn apart,

他們的家人難過心碎，

and their story largely forgotten.

但他們的故事卻被大大忘卻。

No one was ever sentenced for these crimes.

沒有人因此而被判罪。

I cannot forget them.

他們，我一個都不能忘。

They live in me somehow,

某程度上，他們與我同活。

their memories giving me meaning every day.

關於他們的記憶賦予我每天生存的意義。

But they are also haunting the dark street of my mind.

但他們也縈繞在我心中的黑暗街道。

As humanitarian aid workers,

作為人道主義援助工作者，

they made the choice to be at the side of the victim,

他們選擇站在受害者的一邊，

to provide some assistance, some comfort, some protection,

提供力所能及的幫助、安樂、保護，

but when they needed protection themselves,

但是當他們自己需要保護時，

it wasn't there.

卻無法被保護。

When you see the headlines of your newspaper these days

時至今日，當你在看報紙頭條，

with the war in Iraq or in Syria --

看見伊拉克、敘利亞在打仗的同時，

aid worker abducted, hostage executed --

也看到援助工作者被綁架、人質被處決，

but who were they?

但是他們是誰？

Why were they there?

為什麼他們會在那裡？

What motivated them?

為什麼他們決定到那裡去？

How did we become so indifferent to these crimes?

面對這些犯罪， 我們怎麼變得如此冷漠？

This is why I am here today with you.

這就是我今天來到這裡的原因。

We need to find better ways to remember them.

我們需要尋找更好的方式 去銘記這些受害者。

We also need to explain the key values to which they dedicated their lives.

我們需要闡釋他們犧牲奉獻的關鍵理念。

We also need to demand justice.

我們亦需要尋求正義。

When in '96 I was sent

1996年，

by the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees to the North Caucasus,

我受命於聯合國難民署 前往北高加索執行任務時，

I knew some of the risks.

我就知道其中的一些風險。

Five colleagues had been killed,

五位同僚遭殺害，

three had been seriously injured,

三名同僚受重傷，

seven had already been taken hostage.

七位同僚已被綁架做人質。

So we were careful.

因此當時我們很小心。

We were using armored vehicles, decoy cars,

當時我們使用裝甲車、誘餌車，

changing patterns of travel, changing homes,

變換出行模式、切換居所，

all sorts of security measures.

還有其它多種安全措施。

Yet on a cold winter night of January '98, it was my turn.

但是1998年1月的一個寒冷的冬夜， 還是輪到我了。

When I entered my flat in Vladikavkaz with a guard,

我和我的守衛走進 在弗拉季高加索的住所時，

we were surrounded by armed men.

被一群武裝人員包圍了。

They took the guard, they put him on the floor,

他們拿下了守衛， 把他打倒在地，

they beat him up in front of me,

他們在我面前暴打他

tied him, dragged him away.

捆住他、拖走了他。

I was handcuffed, blindfolded, and forced to kneel,

我雙手被銬，雙眼被蒙，被迫下跪，

as the silencer of a gun pressed against my neck.

手槍的消聲器始終抵住我的咽喉。

When it happens to you,

這樣的事情發生在你身上，

there is no time for thinking, no time for praying.

你不會有時間去思考、禱告。

My brain went on automatic,

我的大腦自動開始運作，

rewinding quickly the life I'd just left behind.

快速回想我過去所經歷的人生。

It took me long minutes to figure out

花了很長時間，我才發現

that those masked men there were not there to kill me,

這群蒙面男子不是來殺我的，

but that someone, somewhere, had ordered my kidnapping.

但是受人指使來綁架我。

Then a process of dehumanization started that day.

之後，一系列泯滅人性的行為 從那天開始了。

I was no more than just a commodity.

我變成了一件商品。

I normally don't talk about this,

一般我不談這些，

but I'd like to share a bit with you some of those 317 days of captivity.

但今天我想與在座各位 分享被綁架317天的一些點滴。

I was kept in an underground cellar,

我被囚禁在一個地窖裡，

total darkness,

伸手不見五指，

for 23 hours and 45 minutes every day,

如此渡過每日的23小時45分鐘，

and then the guards would come, normally two.

然後看守就會過來，一般有兩個。

They would bring a big piece of bread,

他們會帶一大塊麵包，

a bowl of soup, and a candle.

還有一碗湯和一支蠟燭，

That candle would burn for 15 minutes,

蠟燭會燒15分鐘，

15 minutes of precious light,

珍貴的15分鐘光明，

and then they would take it away, and I returned to darkness.

然後他們會把東西都拿走， 而我又重返黑暗。

I was chained by a metal cable to my bed.

我被鐵鍊鎖在床架上。

I could do only four small steps.

活動範圍只有四小步。

I always dreamt of the fifth one.

我經常渴望能走到第五步。

And no TV, no radio, no newspaper, no one to talk to.

沒有電視、沒有廣播、 沒有報紙、沒有談話對象。

I had no towel, no soap, no toilet paper,

沒有毛巾、沒有肥皂、沒有廁紙

just two metal buckets open, one for water, for one waste.

只有兩個敞口鐵桶， 一個儲水，一個儲排泄物。

Can you imagine that mock execution can be a pastime for guards

你能想像嗎？ 模擬處決可以是守衛的消遣，

when they are sadistic or when they are just bored or drunk?

要是看守是虐待狂， 或者只是無聊、喝醉酒。

We are breaking my nerves very slowly.

我的耐力緩慢地被消磨。

Isolation and darkness are particularly difficult to describe.

隔離和黑暗最難以形容。

How do you describe nothing?

你要怎樣描述空無？

There are no words for the depths of loneliness I reached

言語不能表達 我當時所感受到的深切孤獨，

in that very thin border between sanity and madness.

徘徊在理智與瘋狂的邊界線上。

In the darkness, sometimes I played imaginary games of checkers.

在黑暗當中，有時我會玩假想的跳棋。

I would start with the black,

我會先下黑子，

play with the white,

然後下白子，

back to the black trying to trick the other side.

然後再到黑子， 不斷嘗試贏另一方。

I don't play checkers anymore.

現在我不玩跳棋了。

I was tormented by the thoughts of my family and my colleague, the guard, Edik.

一想到家人、同僚、我的守衛Edik， 我內心就飽受煎熬。

I didn't know what had happened to him.

我不知道他怎麼樣了。

I was trying not to think,

我嘗試避免思考，

I tried to fill up my time

同時又嘗試填補時間，

by doing all sorts of physical exercise on the spot.

在原地做不同的體能運動。

I tried to pray, I tried all sorts of memorization games.

我嘗試祈禱、嘗試了各種記憶遊戲。

But darkness also creates images and thoughts that are not normal.

但黑暗也會創造不平常的影像和想法。

One part of your brain wants you to resist, to shout, to cry,

大腦的一邊想讓你反抗、嘶吼、哭泣，

and the other part of the brain orders you to shut up

另一邊卻命令你閉嘴，

and just go through it.

默默忍受這一切。

It's a constant internal debate; there is no one to arbitrate.

這是無休止的內心辯論； 沒有人來做最終的裁決。

Once a guard came to me, very aggressively, and he told me,

有一次，一名看守氣勢洶洶地走過來， 告訴我，

"Today you're going to kneel and beg for your food."

「今天要吃的， 你就得向我下跪乞求。」

I wasn't in a good mood, so I insulted him.

當時我的心情不好，所以就罵他。

I insulted his mother, I insulted his ancestors.

我詛咒了他媽媽、他的祖宗。

The consequence was moderate: he threw the food into my waste.

結果比較溫和： 他將食物扔進了裝排泄物的桶。

The day after he came back with the same demand.

第二天他還是同樣的要求。

He got the same answer,

也得到了同樣的答案，

which had the same consequence.

食物的下場也是一樣。

Four days later, the body was full of pain.

四天之後，我的身體無處不痛。

I didn't know hunger hurt so much when you have so little.

我從前不知道，明明已經一無所有， 飢餓竟然可以讓人如此痛苦。

So when the guards came down,

所以，守衛過來的時候，

I knelt.

我下跪了。

I begged for my food.

我乞求食物。

Submission was the only way for me to make it to another candle.

屈服是獲得另一支蠟燭的唯一辦法。

After my kidnapping,

被綁架之後，

I was transferred from North Ossetia to Chechnya,

我從北奧賽梯，被運到車臣，

three days of slow travel in the trunks of different cars,

漫漫的三天路程， 我被困在不同的車尾箱裡，

and upon arrival, I was interrogated

一到達，我就被審問，

for 11 days by a guy called Ruslan.

一個叫鲁斯兰的人， 審問了我11天。

The routine was always the same:

審問方法總是一樣的：

a bit more light, 45 minutes.

光明延長到45分鐘。

He would come down to the cellar,

他來到地窖，

he would ask the guards to tie me on the chair,

讓看守把我綁在椅子上，

and he would turn on the music loud.

然後把音樂放得很大聲。

And then he would yell questions.

然後，他大聲喊著提問。

He would scream. He would beat me.

他尖叫，還毆打我。

I'll spare you the details.

細節我就不提了。

There are many questions I could not understand,

審問的問題有很多我都不懂，

and there are some questions I did not want to understand.

也有一些是我不願意懂。

The length of the interrogation was the duration of the tape:

審問的時長是帶子的時長：

15 songs, 45 minutes.

15首歌，45分鐘。

I would always long for the last song.

我總是盼著快點播到最後一首。

On one day, one night in that cellar, I don't know what it was,

有一天，不知道是白天還是夜晚，

I heard a child crying above my head,

我聽到頭頂有一個小孩在哭，

a boy, maybe two or three years old.

是個小男孩，也許兩歲或者三歲。

Footsteps, confusion, people running.

（我聽到）腳步聲、一些混亂，還有人奔跑。

So when Ruslan came the day after,

鲁斯兰第二天過來，

before he put the first question to me,

在他問第一個問題之前，

I asked him, "How is your son today? Is he feeling better?"

我問他「你兒子今天怎樣了？ 他好點了嗎？」

Ruslan was taken by surprise.

鲁斯兰吃了一驚。

He was furious that the guards may have leaked some details

他非常生氣，以為這裡的看守 把他的私人生活告訴我了。

about his private life.

他非常生氣，以為這裡的守衛 把他的私人生活告訴我了。

I kept talking about NGOs supplying medicines to local clinics

我一直說，向本地診所 提供藥物的非政府組織

that may help his son to get better.

可能會幫他兒子恢復健康。

And we talked about education, we talked about families.

然後我們談教育， 我們談家庭。

He talked to me about his children.

他跟我講他的孩子。

I talked to him about my daughters.

我跟他講我的女兒。

And then he'd talk about guns, about cars, about women,

然後他要聊槍支、聊汽車、聊女人，

and I had to talk about guns, about cars, about women.

所以我也得聊槍支、聊汽車、聊女人。

And we talked until the last song on the tape.

我們一直聊到最後一首歌。

Ruslan was the most brutal man I ever met.

鲁斯兰是我遇見過最兇殘的男人。

He did not touch me anymore.

他沒有再碰我了。

He did not ask any other questions.

他沒有再問我其他任何問題。

I was no longer just a commodity.

我不再僅僅是一件商品。

Two days after, I was transferred to another place.

兩天之後，我被轉移到另一個地方。

There, a guard came to me, very close -- it was quite unusual --

在那裡，一名看守走到我身邊， 相當靠近——平常不會這樣——

and he said with a very soft voice, he said,

他用很輕很輕的聲音說

"I'd like to thank you

「我要感謝你，

for the assistance your organization provided my family

我們在達吉斯坦流離失所時，

when we were displaced in nearby Dagestan."

你們的組織向我家人提供了幫助。」

What could I possibly reply?

我能說什麼？

It was so painful. It was like a blade in the belly.

實在是太痛苦了。 就像腹中插了一把刀。

It took me weeks of internal thinking to try to reconcile

我花了好幾個星期 去思考、嘗試重新接受

the good reasons we had to assist that family

從前幫助那些家庭

and the soldier of fortune he became.

和像他那樣後來變成僱傭軍的人時， 我們深信的信念。

He was young, he was shy.

他年輕、羞怯。

I never saw his face.

我從沒見過他的臉。

He probably meant well.

他的用意可能是好的。

But in those 15 seconds,

但在那15秒裡，

he made me question everything we did,

他讓我質疑我們以前所做的一切，

all the sacrifices.

所有的犧牲。

He made me think also how they see us.

他讓我開始思考他們對我們的看法。

Until then, I had assumed that they know why we are there

在此之前，我以為他們知道 我們為什麼會在那裡、

and what we are doing.

我們在幹什麼。

One cannot assume this.

但大家不能這樣擅自揣測。

Well, explaining why we do this is not that easy,

解釋我們的行動目的，並不容易，

even to our closest relatives.

即便是對我們最親的親人。

We are not perfect, we are not superior,

我們並不完美，也不高人一等，

we are not the world's fire brigade,

我們不是世界消防隊，

we are not superheroes,

也不是超級英雄，

we don't stop wars,

我們不能阻止戰爭，

we know that humanitarian response is not a substitute for political solution.

我們深知人道主義措施 不能代替政治解決方案。

Yet we do this because one life matters.

但我們仍然堅持工作， 因為每條生命都很寶貴。

Sometimes that's the only difference you make --

有時這就是你力所能及的，

one individual, one family, a small group of individuals --

一條生命、一個家庭、一個小群體，

and it matters.

都很重要。

When you have a tsunami, an earthquake or a typhoon,

海嘯、地震、颱風發生時，

you see teams of rescuers coming from all over the world,

你看見救援隊伍 從世界各地趕往現場，

searching for survivors for weeks.

連續數週搜索倖存者。

Why? Nobody questions this.

為什麼？沒有人去質疑。

Every life matters,

每條生命都很寶貴，

or every life should matter.

或者說，每條生命都應該很寶貴。

This is the same for us when we help refugees,

出於同一原因，我們幫助難民

people displaced within their country by conflict, or stateless persons,

幫助由於衝突而流離失所的人， 無論他們有沒有國籍。

I know many people,

我知道有很多人，

when they are confronted by overwhelming suffering,

當他們面臨不能承受之苦時，

they feel powerless and they stop there.

會覺得無能為力，止步不前。

It's a pity, because there are so many ways people can help.

這很遺憾，因為人們 能給予幫助的方式有很多。

We don't stop with that feeling.

我們不會因為這種無力感而止步。

We try to do whatever we can to provide some assistance,

我們嘗試盡己所能，

some protection, some comfort.

去提供一些幫助、保護和安樂。

We have to.

我們必須這樣做。

We can't do otherwise.

我們別無選擇。

It's what makes us feel, I don't know, simply human.

這能讓我們感覺…感覺到簡單的人道。

That's a picture of me the day of my release.

這是我被釋放當天的照片。

Months after my release, I met the then-French prime minister.

釋放數月後， 我會見了當時的法國總理。

The second thing he told me:

他告訴我的第二件事是：

"You were totally irresponsible to go to the North Caucasus.

「你去北高加索，實在是完全不負責任。

You don't know how many problems you've created for us."

你不知道你給我們帶來了多少麻煩。」

It was a short meeting.

會面很簡短。

(Laughter)

（笑聲）

I think helping people in danger is responsible.

我相信，幫助身處危難的人 是負責任的行為。

In that war, that nobody seriously wanted to stop,

那場戰爭，沒有人想要真正停戰，

and we have many of these today,

今天我們有很多這樣的戰爭，

bringing some assistance to people in need and a bit of protection

為有需要的人帶去一點幫助、一點保護

was not just an act of humanity,

並不只是人道行為，

it was making a real difference for the people.

這是為人類所做的真正改變。

Why could he not understand this?

為什麼他不能理解這點？

We have a responsibility to try.

我們有責任去嘗試。

You've heard about that concept: Responsibility to Protect.

大家都聽過這個概念： 保護的責任。

Outcomes may depend on various parameters.

成果可能取決於不同的標準。

We may even fail, but there is worse than failing --

我們甚至可能會失敗， 但比失敗更糟糕的是：

it's not even trying when we can.

即便是力所能及，也不去嘗試。

Well, if you are met this way, if you sign up for this sort of job,

假如你有這樣的經歷， 如果你決定加入這類工作，

your life is going to be full of joy and sadness,

你的生活將會充滿快樂和悲傷，

because there are a lot of people we cannot help,

因為我們無法幫助的人有很多，

a lot of people we cannot protect, a lot of people we did not save.

我們無法保護的人有很多， 我們沒能拯救的人有很多。

I call them my ghost,

我稱之為「我的鬼魂」，

and by having witnessed their suffering from close,

近身目睹他們的痛苦，

you take a bit of that suffering on yourself.

你也會感受到其中的痛苦。

Many young humanitarian workers

許多年輕的人道主義工作者

go through their first experience with a lot of bitterness.

初次工作會經歷很多辛酸。

They are thrown into situations where they are witness,

他們不得不目睹一些情景慘狀，

but they are powerless to bring any change.

但是他們無能為力，無法改變。

They have to learn to accept it

他們必須學會接受，

and gradually turn this into positive energy.

慢慢將這些轉化為正能量。

It's difficult.

談何容易。

Many don't succeed,

很多人做不到，

but for those who do, there is no other job like this.

但對於做得到的人來說， 其他工作無法與之相比。

You can see the difference you make every day.

每天你都可以看見自己發揮的作用。

Humanitarian aid workers know the risk they are taking

人道主義援助工作者知道他們所擔負的風險，

in conflict areas or in post-conflict environments,

無論在衝突地區、還是衝突過後的地區，

yet our life, our job, is becoming increasingly life-threatening,

但我們的生命、我們的工作 卻越來越威脅到生命安全，

and the sanctity of our life is fading.

而生命的聖潔性卻逐漸減退。

Do you know that since the millennium,

你知道嗎？自千禧年來，

the number of attacks on humanitarian aid workers has tripled?

對人道主義援助工作者的襲擊 已經增加到3倍。

2013 broke new records:

2013年破了新紀錄：

155 colleagues killed,

155位同僚被殺害，

171 seriously wounded,

171位受重傷，

134 abducted.

134位被綁架。

So many broken lives.

破碎的生命如此之多。

Until the beginning of the civil war in Somalia in the late '80s,

80年代初，索馬里內戰剛開始前，

humanitarian aid workers were sometimes victims

人道主義援助工作者有時會成為 我們所說的間接傷害的受害者，

of what we call collateral damages,

有時人道主義援助工作者會成為 我們所說的間接傷害的受害者，

but by and large we were not the target of these attacks.

但我們基本上不是襲擊的目標。

This has changed.

但現在變了。

Look at this picture.

看看這張照片。

Baghdad, August 2003:

巴格達，2003年8月：

24 colleagues were killed.

24位同僚遭殺害。

Gone are the days when a U.N. blue flag or a Red Cross

聯合國的藍旗或紅十字會旗 在過去會自動保護我們，

would automatically protect us.

這樣的日子已經不復返。

Criminal groups and some political groups

犯罪團體和一些政治團體

have cross-fertilized over the last 20 years,

在過去20年來互相雜交，

and they've created these sort of hybrids

創造出的產物

with whom we have no way of communicating.

我們根本無法與之溝通。

Humanitarian principles are tested, questioned, and often ignored,

人道主義原則被測試、質疑， 也常常被忽視，

but perhaps more importantly, we have abandoned the search for justice.

但也許更重要的是， 我們已經放棄尋求正義。

There seems to be no consequence whatsoever

襲擊人道主義援助工作者

for attacks against humanitarian aid workers.

似乎再也不會帶來什麼後果。

After my release, I was told not to seek any form of justice.

我被釋放後，被告知 不要尋求任何形式的正義。

It won't do you any good, that's what I was told.

「這對你沒好處」，人們這麼說。

Plus, you're going to put in danger the life of other colleagues.

「而且你會將其他同僚的生命置於危險之中。」

It took me years to see the sentencing

花了很多年，我才看到

of three people associated with my kidnapping,

與我綁架案相關的三個人被判刑，

but this was the exception.

但這是例外。

There was no justice for any of the humanitarian aid workers

1995-1999年間在車臣被殺害或綁架的 人道主義援助工作者，

killed or abducted in Chechnya between '95 and '99,

沒有看到任何正義得到伸張，

and it's the same all over the world.

而全世界也是如此。

This is unacceptable.

無法接受。

This is inexcusable.

不能容忍。

Attacks on humanitarian aid workers are war crimes in international law.

在國際法中，襲擊人道主義 援助工作者是戰爭罪行。

Those crimes should not go unpunished.

這些罪行不應逃脫懲處。

We must end this cycle of impunity.

我們必須結束有罪不懲的惡循環。

We must consider that those attacks against humanitarian aid workers

我們必須將對人道主義援助工作者的襲擊

are attacks against humanity itself.

視為對人道主義的襲擊。

That makes me furious.

這樣的襲擊讓我怒不可遏。

I know I'm very lucky compared to the refugees I work for.

我知道，比起工作中遇到的難民 我已相當幸運。

I don't know what it is to have seen my whole town destroyed.

看見自己的家鄉被完全毀滅， 我不知道會有何感想。

I don't know what it is to have seen my relatives shot in front of me.

看見自己的家人被射死， 我不知道會有何感想。

I don't know what it is to lose the protection of my country.

看見自己的國家失去保護， 我不知道會有何感想。

I also know that I'm very lucky compared to other hostages.

我知道，比起其他人質， 我已相當幸運。

Four days before my eventful release, four hostages were beheaded

在我被釋放前四天，四名人質被斬首，

a few miles away from where I was kept in captivity.

僅離我囚禁之處幾英里遠。

Why them?

為什麼是他們？

Why am I here today?

為什麼我今天會在這裡？

No easy answer.

答案不容易。

I was received with a lot of support that I got from my relatives,

我從家人、同僚、朋友、陌生人身上

from colleagues, from friends, from people I didn't know.

得到了許多支持。

They have helped me over the years to come out of the darkness.

這些年來他們幫助我走出黑暗。

Not everyone was treated with the same attention.

不是每個人都得到了同樣的關注。

How many of my colleagues, after a traumatic incident,

多少位同僚在經過創傷事件後

took their own life?

放棄了自己的生命？

I can count nine that I knew personally.

我自己認識的就有9位。

How many of my colleagues went through a difficult divorce

多少位同僚遭受了創傷事件後

after a traumatic experience

經歷了艱難的離婚，

because they could not explain anything anymore to their spouse?

因為他們再也不能 向伴侶解釋任何事情。

I've lost that count.

這種事不勝枚舉。

There is a price for this type of life.

這類人生有代價。

In Russia, all war monuments have this beautiful inscription at the top.

在俄羅斯，所有的戰爭紀念碑 的頂部都有這串漂亮的銘文。

It says, (In Russian)

上面寫著（俄文）：

"No one is forgotten, nothing is forgotten."

「無人被遺忘，無事被遺忘。」

I do not forget my lost colleagues.

我不會忘記我失去的同僚。

I cannot forget anything.

我不能忘卻所發生過的事情。

I call on you to remember their dedication

我呼籲各位，銘記他們的奉獻，

and demand that humanitarian aid workers around the world

並要求世界範圍內的人道主義援助工作者

be better protected.

都會受到更好地保護。

We should not let that light of hope they have brought to be switched off.

我們不該讓他們所帶來的希望之光熄滅。

After my ordeal, a lot of colleagues asked me, "But why do you continue?

經歷苦難之後，許多同僚問我： 「你爲什麽還在堅持？」

Why do you do this sort of job?

「為什麼你要做這樣的工作？」

Why do you have to go back to it?"

「為什麼你非得要繼續做？」

My answer was very simple:

我的答案非常簡單：

If I had quit,

如果我放棄的話，

that would have meant my kidnapper had won.

那就是說我的綁匪成功了。

They would have taken my soul

我若放棄，他們就該征服我的靈魂，

and my humanity.

我的人性。

Thank you.

感謝。

(Applause)

（掌聲）