Durban Bound.(World Conference Against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance)

For months Mary Robinson has talked of a "breakthrough," a global "coming together," a hope that has always hinged on a rather extraordinary presumption: that the World Conference Against Racism, Racial Discrimination, Xenophobia and Related Intolerance, which opens in Durban this week, would defy the normal rules of political engagement; that delegates would put aside parochialism for the higher cause of social justice.

The U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights (and secretary-general of the conference) may be disappointed. The Durban conference is the most ambitious United Nations antiracism colloquium ever, and it is the first since the age of apartheid (held, with full awareness of the symbolism, in the now-democratic South Africa). But it already has stumbled into a minefield of recrimination and distrust. And it has yet to officially begin.

Two issues have all but hijacked the agenda: Israel's treatment of Palestinians and whether the countries of the North owe an apology and reparations to the countries of Africa. The United States has threatened to boycott the meeting (or downgrade its delegation) if either item remains on the agenda. So, instead of packing their bags for Durban, White House and State Department officials spent much of last week debating whether Colin Powell should attend--debating, in essence, whether America's first black secretary of State could afford to risk his prestige on a gathering that might embarrass the United States.

For South Africans all this is distressing. The onetime pariah state had seen the international gathering as a perfect occasion to showcase its postapartheid progress. They also saw it as a potential boost to Africa in general, an opportunity to present "an African voice that has some integrity... to put African values and strategies... on the map," in the words of N. Barney Pityana, chair of the South African Human Rights Commission. They resent the fact that issues considered tangential have suddenly assumed center stage.

Yet, with the Middle East conflict raging, it's hardly surprising that Arab delegates should use the conference to snipe at Israel. Nor, given the meeting's focus, is it surprising that African states and the descendants of Africans would attack the West for slavery and colonialism. Robinson's own rhetoric has encouraged such dynamics, as she has consistently argued for the healing potential of making amends for past evils. Her views are shaped in part by the experience of Ireland, which she served as president from 1990 to 1997. Near the end of her tenure, British Prime Minister Tony Blair expressed regret that Britain did not do more to alleviate Ireland's suffering during the potato famine of the 1840s. That statement "was talked about in clubs and pubs... It made a difference," Robinson told me during a conversation in Geneva. But even as she has argued for coming to terms with the past, Robinson has insisted that this conference must focus on the future. Her vision of a new relationship between North and South and of a spotlight for struggles yet unheralded may draw as many as 14,000 people to Durban over the next two weeks.

For poorer countries the meeting is a chance to make the case for debt cancellation, foreign direct investment and assistance in a broad range of areas--from agriculture to communications technology. And for the developed world it is an opportunity to show that the fashionable rhetoric around human rights is sincerely intended. But it is nongovernment groups for whom the conference has singular importance.

Over the past several months, in scores of meetings around the globe-- Santiago, Quito, Warsaw, Tehran, Costa Rica, Dakar, Strasbourg, Nashville and elsewhere--a vast assortment of NGOs, ...