UN Human Rights Chief: Speech laws must strike balance

Chelsea Purvis and Awaz Raoof, lawyers who are currently assisting MRG’s Legal Cases Team, report back from a talk in London by Navi Pillay on hate speech.

Navi Pillay, the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, gave a talk on freedom of expression and hate speech during a recent visit to London. Pillay’s talk, entitled “Freedom of Expression and Hate Speech: What International Human Rights Law Says,” preceded the launch of the Plan of Action on the prohibition of incitement to national, racial or religious hatred, which aims to give States a better understanding of how to implement existing international law to appropriately balance the competing interests of freedom of expression and protection against hate speech.

Speaking to a full house at the London School of Economics in February, Pillay highlighted the need for States to maintain a careful balance between prohibiting hate speech and ensuring freedom of expression.  Their duty to curb hate speech stems from the concern that it can incite violent action. As Minority Rights Group has documented, official tolerance or encouragement of hate speech greatly increases the likelihood of atrocities in a State.

At the same time, free speech is a fundamental right, such that any restriction on the freedom of expression “must remain an exception.”  Moreover, restrictions on speech are often misused.  Pillay’s office has documented “instances where members of minorities are persecuted through the abuse of vague or counter-productive legislation.”  The government of Pakistan, for example, has used blasphemy laws to silence religious minorities.

The law

Pillay provided an overview of the two key international human rights standards governing hate speech: the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the International Convention on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination (ICERD).

Article 19 of the ICCPR guarantees the rights to freedom of opinion and freedom of expression. Any restrictions on free speech must be “provided by law”, and be necessary for respect of the rights or reputations of others, or for the protection of national security, public order, or public health or morals (Article 19(3)). Under Article 20, however, States are specifically obliged to prohibit two particular types of speech: war propaganda; and hate speech, namely “[a]ny advocacy of national, racial or religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence.” Through its decisions and comments, the Human Rights Committee (the supervising body of the ICCPR) “seeks to balance these two articles,” Pillay explained, and thereby balance the competing interests of protection against hate speech and the right to freedom of expression.

The prohibitions on hate speech contained in ICERD are broader than those contained in the ICCPR. Article 4 of ICERD requires State parties to take “immediate and positive measures” to eradicate and criminalise (i) incitement to racial discrimination, (ii) dissemination of ideas based on racial superiority or hatred, (iii) acts of violence or incitement to such acts against any race or ethnic group, (iv) the provision of assistance to racist activities, and (v) participation in organisations or activities which promote or incite racial discrimination. Pillay noted that the CERD Committee, which monitors the implementation of ICERD, has “tended to apply the prohibition on incitement more broadly” in comparison to the practice of the Human Rights Committee.

When does speech become hateful?

Pillay next described a major challenge in implementing international law on freedom of expression: the difficulty of distinguishing between hate speech and speech which is “merely offensive”. Pillay reviewed the CERD Committee’s guidance on this issue. Five factors, she explained, help determine whether a statement is hateful: 1) the severity of the statement (including a consideration of who made the statement, its content, timing, the likeliness of harm, and imminence of danger); 2) intent (whether the speaker intended to discriminate); 3) the context in which the statement was made (for example, whether there is a history of violence or persecution); 4) causation (whether the speaker actually caused harm); and 5) whether the speech targets ideas or humans.

Pillay did not explain how best to apply these five factors.  Rather, she stated that we have “a number of slightly different regional and national approaches” to applying them, and that determinations of hate speech must be made on a case-by-case basis.  She added that it is essential to distinguish between forms of speech which should constitute a crime, those which should only give rise to a civil claim, and those which are merely regarded as intolerant or disrespectful. Unfortunately, she did not explain how to differentiate between these legal categories.

Members of Pakistan’s Sikh minority pray for peace at a temple in Hassanabdal. Credit: Jared Ferrie.

Pillay did, however, highlight the problem of defining hate speech by using the example of blasphemy laws (namely, laws prohibiting the defamation of religion). Certain States argue that religious beliefs should be protected from hate speech just as people are. The Office of the High Commission for Human Rights (OHCHR) strongly disagrees, on the basis that human rights law protects individuals and groups, not belief systems. When drafting guidance on hate speech, the Human Rights Council had struggled to come to agreement on whether to prohibit blasphemy. However, on 24 March 2011, the Human Rights Council broke its deadlock via “landmark” Resolution 16/18, which condemned any advocacy of religious hatred that constitutes incitement to discrimination, hostility or violence against people – not belief systems - and called on States to take concrete steps to foster an environment of religious tolerance, peace and respect.

The Rabat Plan of Action

Pillay described the development of a new tool to help States conform their speech laws to international standards. Starting in 2011, the OHCHR held a series of workshops to provide further clarity on the implementation of international human rights standards on hate speech. This process culminated with the adoption of the Rabat Plan of Action in October 2012. The Plan of Action was presented by a group of experts on 21 February 2013 in Geneva, Switzerland.

The Plan of Action sets out a list of conclusions and recommendations for all stakeholders – States, the UN, NGOs, political parties, and the media. In particular, the Plan of Action contains six thresholds that must be met for speech to be criminally prohibited: context, the speaker’s standing, intent to advocate or incite, content, scope or extent, and imminence. It recommends that criminal sanctions be a last resort, and that civil and administrative sanctions and remedies also be considered.

While the Plan of Action provides useful general guidance, it does not clarify how States should categorize certain forms of speech in concrete cases. Neither does the Plan of Action describe when certain sanctions should be applied. In both her lecture and the subsequent Question and Answer session, Pillay acknowledged this lingering ambiguity, questioning the desirability of a uniform approach across States. The Plan of Action does not provide a ‘one-size-fits-all’ solution to dealing with offensive speech. Whether a form of speech constitutes incitement to discrimination must ultimately be decided carefully, on a case-by-case basis.

Protecting minorities

The most valuable contribution of the Rabat Plan of Action is its emphasis of minority rights.  The Plan of Action underscores the danger of States using speech restrictions to persecute minorities.  A “dichotomy of (1) no prosecution of ‘real’ incitement cases and (2) persecution of minorities under the guise of domestic incitement laws seems to be pervasive” across States, the experts find.  The experts criticize blasphemy laws, which certain States use to persecute religious minorities or dissenters.  At the same time, the experts note, minorities often have weak access to justice when they are victims of incitement.  The experts recommend that States provide legal assistance to minorities and other vulnerable groups.

Finally, the Plan of Action reminds readers that States must also use non-legal methods to combat incitement to hatred against minorities and other vulnerable people. The media, for example, plays a major role in combating discrimination. Minorities must be given a space in the media to voice their opinions and views, promoting a better understanding of their groups and sharing their perspectives.

The Plan of Action is therefore a useful and important tool which civil society and other stakeholders can use to best protect minority rights. As the political will to combat hate speech continues to vary across States, and in light of the inevitable ambiguities in the Plan of Action, the challenge of developing national standards in accordance with the precarious international consensus becomes more important than ever.

 

A Pakistani Baha’i’s story

Shobha Das, MRG’s Head of Programmes, recently visited Islamabad. Here she recounts a meeting with a member of the Baha’i faith who told her of his conversion from Islam, and the consequences of his change of faith.

L was born a Muslim in Balochistan, the son of a Baloch mother and a Pathan (Pashtun) father. Balochistan occupies the largest land mass of Pakistan’s provinces, but is home to the country’s smallest provincial population. Though it has vast natural resources (oil and gas, coal, inter alia), it is overwhelmingly poor.

Baloch nationalists have been locked in conflict with the Government of Pakistan for decades over human rights abuses and revenue sharing, and some nationalists want nothing less than full secession. According to Amnesty International, Balochistan is suffering a ‘human rights crisis.’ Armed militant groups endanger civilian lives every day, and government forces are allegedly responsible for an increasing and alarming number of killings and abductions.

Baha’i Centre, Islamabad.

L moved away from Balochistan to the Pakistani capital Islamabad due to the conflict, ‘It was for the sake of my children; I didn’t know how to keep them safe there,’ he says. After an increasing disillusionment with the way Islam was being practiced, L had a series of very intense spiritual experiences. As a result of these, L one day found himself at the Baha’i centre in Islamabad. The religion is not a proselytizing one, but after a few conversations with others in the centre, he was soon convinced of the value of the religion to address the spiritual doubts he has been struggling with. Not long after, he found himself leaving Islam for the Baha’i faith.

What he finds attractive, he says, is the message of human unity. This, to him, is the religion that transcends all others, with its message that ‘god is one, man is one, and all religions are one.’

An image of the Baha’i star, with the symbols of the world’s major faiths represented within it.

On the ceiling of the resource centre is a giant glass image of the Baha’i star, with the symbols of the world’s major faiths represented within it. L has now taught himself to read and write Persian so he can better access the sacred texts of the Baha’i, and he lives with his family in the premises of the Baha’i centre where he tends proudly and successfully to a thriving garden and shows any interested visitors around the library and resource centre.

There are around 200 Baha’is in Islamabad, and perhaps two or three thousand in the whole of Pakistan. I ask if the 200 based in Islamabad use this centre as their place of worship. L tells me that the Baha’is don’t generally pray in congregations, their worship is a personal act of communion with their god.

A banner in the Baha’i centre.

In Islamabad, life for Baha’is is not difficult, L tells me. There is no active discrimination and he is not worried about telling people he is a Baha’i. Here, he wears Western clothes. A thick jumper to keep out the cold Islamabad winter, rugged walking shoes, and outdoor trousers which would be at home on an Alpine summer hike.

When he goes home to Balochistan however, he switches back to his Pathan clothes of salwars and loose tunics; if he wore anything else, he says, he would be asked a thousand disapproving questions, or worse. Further, his family in Balochistan do not know that he is no longer a Muslim. He would never tell them, he says, because they would instantly disown him. His children and wife are also Baha’i but this is never mentioned when in Balochistan. Back there, he says, ‘we all do the namaaz and fit in with the Muslim culture. There is no other way.’

MRG’s Shobha Das with Dr Paul Bhatti, Pakistan’s Minister for National Harmony and Minority Affairs.

Identity papers in Pakistan require that the holder’s religion is stated. L’s identity papers have not been changed since his conversion; he is still shown as a Muslim. If he changed this, journeys back to Balochistan would be fraught with risk – religious minorities in Pakistan are all too aware of recent incidents of buses being stopped in remote areas, passengers being asked for their ID cards, and the minorities thus identified being shot dead. But he would like to have his new religion on his papers. ‘All in good time,’ he says.

However, he says proudly, when he registers for his children’s identity papers, he will declare them as Baha’i. Will they be able to speak more freely of their religious beliefs when they are grown, I ask. ‘Inshallah,’ he says. ‘Inshallah.’

Part 2: Indigenous languages are important but are they useful?

In the second of two blogs reporting from the Expert Seminar on Indigenous Peoples’ Languages and Cultures, Daniel Openshaw, MRG’s Publications Intern, questions why destruction of intangible culture is often overlooked and what incentive exists to learn an indigenous language.

When the Taliban blew up the Buddhas of Bamiyan in Afghanistan in 2001 it sparked international outcry. This was an act of intolerance by a global enemy. The buddhas were massive, tangible representations of Greco-Buddhist art and key examples of 6^th century engineering. It was indisputably a cultural disaster. But according to UNESCO’s endangered languages programme, half of the 6000 languages spoken today, will be lost by the end of the century.

Academics and NGO representatives listen to a panel of experts discussing Indigenous Peoples’ rights to languages and cultures.

Last month I attended the Expert Seminar on Indigenous Peoples’ Language and Cultures at Brunel University. Javier Sanchez, one of the speakers and Director of the National Institute for Indigenous Languages in Mexico, asked participants to imagine how they would feel if they woke up tomorrow and were told that they were not able to use the language they had learned from their parents. This is a situation affecting thousands of indigenous people daily and will inevitably exacerbate UNESCO’s predictions. Is this not a cultural disaster equal to the dynamiting of the Buddhas of Bamiyan?

In my last blog I discussed the importance of preserving and promoting cultural rights (including linguistic rights) and the inseparability of these with land rights. I finished by noting how the African Commission of Human and Peoples’ Rights ruled in favour of the indigenous Endorois in Kenyabased on cultural integrity, but how the definition of this term did not include peoples’ right to language. Language and culture are obviously interlinked, but at the seminar Dr Mark Harris of Adelaide University highlighted that they must be seen as individual rights. In some cases of Aboriginal land rights in Australia, land claims are embedded in language and the lack of indigenous languages has led to restrictions on land rights.

An Ampilatwatja elder sets up camp in the bush to demand their rights to land and self-determination. Credit: Rusty Stewart

This is a recurring issue throughout the seminar. Language rights are important, we were sitting in a room full of people who understood this importance, but not everybody does. Referring to my previous question regarding whether the loss of language is akin to the destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan, the lack of public concern on this issue would suggest not. There is both opposition to and, more dangerously, widespread apathy towards indigenous languages. It is possible that we will be able to preserve them (in the history books) but promoting them will be much more difficult. What is the incentive?

Indigenous languages are important, but are they useful? Major world languages are useful; of the UN’s 6 working languages, French is the international language, English is the international language of business and Chinese is hot on its heels whilst Spanish, Arabic and Russian are spoken across many states. There is a real incentive to spend a lot of time and effort learning these languages. At the seminar it was addressed that learning an indigenous language as either a second language or alongside a first helps the learning of third, fourth and fifth languages, but still, this might seem an unnecessary hurdle to someone who wants to learn a language as a gateway to opportunity. The problem of incentive is not limited to non-indigenous people. In Norway, perhaps through past forced assimilation but nevertheless, the Saami are integrated into Norwegian society, in the main speak Norwegian as their first language and feel they have no need to learn Saami. They lack incentive.

When I introduced this question of incentive at the seminar Dr Harris suggested that it was simply a question of securing the right for indigenous communities to learn- or not to learn- their mother tongue and for wider society to recognize this right.  Incentive to choose to learn as opposed to not learn came in the form of responsibility. At the heart of the matter this is true. It does come down to a sense of pride in one’s language and responsibility to promote its longevity. But is this enough? People have a responsibility to throw litter in the bin in order to protect and promote the visual appeal of their environment, but not everybody does. Responsibility can be a strong incentive and can be used to persuade people to act in a certain way- look at Mao’s China- but in terms of learning a language and the considerable dedication involved, I’m not sure it’s enough (definitely not outside of indigenous communities) to learn an indigenous language.

Javier Sanchez gave a more optimistic answer to the question of incentive. He recounted how there used to be no incentive to learn one of Mexico’s 364 linguistic variants. However since a change in legislation to promote indigenous languages in 1993 there are now intercultural universities, indigenous media broadcasts and the use of indigenous language in civic and public life. Perhaps this is the incentive people need both within and outside of indigenous communities. If, for example court hearings were heard in Saami, then there would be demand for Saami speaking lawyers. If there were Innu TV channels then there would be demand for Innu-aimun speaking presenters. Dr Sheila Aikmen of the University of East Anglia also suggested that bilingual education, which is fairly widespread, should be available to all, not just indigenous peoples, as this in itself can be marginalizing.

The Expert Seminar and work of the Expert Mechanism are indications that the cultural and linguistic rights of indigenous peoples need to become more prominent. In my view, incentive is the key and it is slowly emerging. A new law is going through the motions in Ukraine that would allow court cases to be heard in minority languages, such as Crimean-Tatar; this is just one example cited in this year’s ‘State of the World’s Minorities and Indigenous Peoples’ to be launched in June. Destruction of language is in large a passive process towards an intangible culture. Bringing the issue to the international stage is an optimistic beginning but there is a long way to go before it is seen in the same way as active destruction of tangible culture.

London play highlights Chagossians’ plight

MRG interns John Lubbock and Sofia Nazalya found A Few Man Fridays at the Hammersmith Riverside Studios in London to be more than just a theatrical performance. The three-hour-long play represented a formidable campaign for the rights of the Chagossians, whose story is still not widely known.

Adrian Jackson’s play serves in part to address this lack of awareness of the people of Diego Garcia, a small island in the Chagos Archipelago, in the British Indian Ocean Territory, and epic struggle following expulsion from the island to make way for a US military base. The continued refusal of the UK to allow the Chagossians to return has seen the case taken to the High Court in London all the way to the European Court of Human Rights.

The play follows Prosper, a Chagossian searching for the identity of his mother and encountering the history of his people who he has become separated from. His attempt to put together the pieces of the past and find his mother provides a sympathetic personal prism through which to understand the Chagossians’ quest to return to their motherland.

Even at three hours, the play never became monotonous or dull, and actively encouraged the audience to take action to bring attention to the cause. The following is an exchange of thoughts between us on the event.

JL: The first thing that came to my mind was the African proverb which Marwan Bishara had previously used to describe the Arab Spring; ‘when elephants fight, the grass gets crushed, and when elephants make love, the grass still gets crushed’. Diego Garcia is a great example of two states conspiring together for mutual benefit while completely ignoring the fundamental rights of a group of people who they probably considered too small to do anything about it. In the end however, I felt that it was quite a hopeful story, because it shows that even though they are a tiny group of people, they can do something about it, and even though it’s taken 40 years, they might win and be allowed to return.

Chagos islanders demonstrate after law lords verdict

SN: Still it’s rather astounding to know that it’s been 40 years and their story is still quite unknown. I read a review of the play last week that started off highlighting this – most people, including the reviewer, had no idea who the Chagossians are, or much less where the Chagos Islands are.

JL: I imagine that probably more people have heard of Diego Garcia as a result of its use in extraordinary rendition flights and possible torture by the US military. The lack of awareness on colonial history is something I have been thinking about since I left school; at some point I realised I had studied all this history, but the story I was given was ‘in 1066 England began when we were invaded by French Vikings, then we had a couple of civil wars, invented democracy and then nothing happened for a few hundred years until the First World War began’. It’s a transparently colonial narrative of history with all the unflattering parts edited out. I think we should be made to learn about colonial history in school. I know you studied it in Singapore.

SN: Yeah, I’m not saying education in Singapore was informative at all on human rights issues, but there definitely was that consciousness of colonial history, not only of Singapore but the region. I thought ultimately the play did a great job of raising how serious the problem is, how it’s connected to people living in the UK and just how things that seem far removed from us really aren’t at all. Ultimately it’s a real eye opener, and I know it definitely moved a lot of people in the audience, and the post play Q&A discussion with the panellists answered a lot of questions to do with the legal proceedings and where the case is at currently.

JL: I was shocked by a few things raised by the play and the discussion. In the play, I was shocked by the fact that when the US effectively bought Diego Garcia, they asked for it to be ‘wiped clean’ and ‘sanitised’. They could have re-employed the people on the island and allowed them to continue their way of life to some extent, as they had been previously employed by the coconut processing company there before. And as mentioned in the Q&A discussion, even though the UK government acknowledges that they abused the rights of Chagossians, they are still trying to fight them in the courts to keep them from returning.

SN: I think the denial of their right of return can be blamed on lack of political will. Even though the UN Declaration on Indigenous Peoples is a relatively new progression, I think the fact that it exists shows how far we’ve come in terms of awareness of the need to respect and promote the rights of minorities and indigenous peoples. The fact that the expulsion happened 40 years ago shows the readiness at that point in time to exploit a situation where a group had weak legal protection and little recourse to justice.

JL: Definitely. That’s shown by the fact that the UK denied them the same rights enjoyed by citizens of other territories which were colonial possessions: the right for second and third generations to attain British citizenship even though they won that right in 2002.

SN: Yes, and the argument now seems to concentrate on things that really just seem to miss the whole point – for instance how marine conservation and the presence of the US air base are used as justifications to deny Chagossians the right of return. The situation is certainly complicated, but in the end it doesn’t approach it from a human rights viewpoint: that ultimately, the base that exists (which was the cause of their expulsion and violation of rights) is not a reason to fail to address the Chagossian cause. And the justification of protecting marine biodiversity is a mere greenwashing of the situation.

JL: David Snoxall, the Coordinator of the Chagos Islands All-Party Parliamentary Group, said that if the European Court decides the case is admissible, it is likely that the UK will have to let them return. The fact that they aren’t asking to go back to Diego Garcia but some outlying islands 140 miles away means they can’t possibly be a security concern, so you do wonder what could possibly be the reason for the UK continuing to obstruct the right of return. The UK could save itself a lot of trouble and money by facilitating their return, and also try to right a historic wrong which it created in the first place.

SN: Yes, and MRG has supported the Chagossians’ cause including submitting a shadow report with respect to the Sixth Periodic Report of the UK to the UN Human Rights Committee.

JL: That they were never consulted about their eviction is significant to note. They weren’t told they were going to be deported until shortly before it happened, they were intimidated in order to make them leave, tricked into leaving the island and not allowed to return. Even in the feasibility studies about the right of return in 2002 they were never asked what they wanted. That lack of dialogue shows there is still a serious problem with how the UK treats minorities.

SN: Definitely. I also felt that the use of different media techniques in the play was highly effective. The oral and video recordings of Chagossians, some of whom have recently passed away, the occasionally surreal scenes, the double narrative of the protagonist Prosper and his struggle, and the dramatisation of the past – they all culminated in a moving and cohesive artistic portrayal of reality.

JL: Yeah, I think the play served to give them a voice, to try to make them visible rather than just mute colonial servants like Man Friday who Robinson Crusoe has to teach to speak.

SN: Yeah I liked the part in the beginning when one of the actors talks about their language, and how Chagossian Creole isn’t a Pidgin or a colonial language but a language of freedom, a language that was born out of years of survival and struggle.

JL: The play does a great job of illuminating their culture and affecting sympathy for such a unique group of people, who have suffered such an injustice. It’s impossible not to sympathise with so basic a desire as wanting to return home.

While some may express ‘doubt that justice can now ever be done ‘ for the Chagossians, we think that change is partially up to us. You can be part of this change by signing this petition for the US Government to redress wrongs against Chagossians. Twenty-five thousand signatures are needed by 4 April 2012.

Development with identity

Beth Walker, MRG’s Commissioning Editor, looks at the increasing impact of natural resource exploitation on minority and indigenous peoples, and champions their resistance to, and right to benefit from, development projects on their lands

Over the past weeks, Tibetan villagers stopped a Chinese company from mining a holy mountain on the Tibetan Plateau, pushing $300,000 worth of equipment into the Nu River after negotiations with the local government collapsed; in the Philippines, an alliance of indigenous groups took to the streets to protest the recent rush of gold mining, after the government handed 60 per cent of Cordilleras province over to companies as mining concessions; and in Namibia, Himba and Zwemba indigenous groups are demanding their government ends forced land grabs to make way for the construction of the Orokawe Dam, and respects their rights under international law.

These incidents are indicative of large-scale resistance against governments and companies who are increasingly ignoring community rights in the rush to secure natural resources on their lands. These communities are not necessarily “against development”, but they demand the right to benefit from development projects, and also to determine their path. As indigenous protestors in the Philippines are chanting, they are ‘not anti-mining’ but want ‘mining for the people.’

Testimony from MRG’s partners, and reports trickling through from community organisations, show that far too often, minority and indigenous groups reap few of the benefits and suffer more of the negative impacts of such projects. Last week, I attended the launch of a new report produced by the Gaia Foundation at the UK Houses of Parliament that reinforced this. The report warns that the rapid growth of mining, oil and gas activities is leading to large scale “land grabbing”, threatening communities and destroying local food and water systems.

Speaking at the event, Teresa Anderson from the Gaia Foundation said, “The catalogue of devastation is growing. We are no longer talking about isolated pockets of destruction and pollution. In just 10 years, iron ore production has more than doubled, coal has risen 45% and metals like lithium by 125%. Across Africa, Latin America and Asia, more and more lands, rivers and aquifers are being devoured by mining activities.”

The surge in mining worldwide is fuelled by the rising price of metals and oil, and by foreign investment and commodity speculation. This has acted as an incentive to exploit new areas and less pure deposits, says the report. Companies are now moving into remote areas of the Amazon rainforests for oil and gold, into South Africa for coal, and combing India’s forested tribal belt for bauxite. More aggressive technologies are now being used to extract materials from areas which were previously inaccessible, as seen with the Alberta tar sands in Canada.

“Land grabs for mining, tourism, biofuels, dam construction, infrastructure projects, timber and now carbon trading are all part of the same process, turning farmers into refugees on their own land,” said Henk Hobbelink, co-founder of GRAIN International, an organisation that supports community farmers and social movements.

While there was agreement among the MPs, activists, economists and lawyers gathered at Westminster that communities should have the rights to control decisions about development projects on their land, there was less consensus on how this should be achieved. How can communities hold international companies and the governments they collaborate with to account?

Improving the transparency standards of companies that extract natural resources can reduce corporate corruption and conflict, argued a representative from Global Witness, pointing to the example of initiatives such as the Extractive Industries Transparency Index. But for many, voluntary initiatives are not enough.

“Experience has shown that light touch regulation of companies results in large-scale human rights abuses,” argued Richard Solly, coordinator of London Mining Network. “There needs to be stricter government oversight over the activities of such companies operating abroad.” “We need a tribunal to hold companies to account, an equivalent of the International Criminal Court for companies,” said Deborah Doane, director of the World Development Movement.

These are big questions that need more discussion and debate. The impact of natural resource development on minority and indigenous groups will be the topic of MRG’s 2012 annual report – State of the World’s Minorities and Indigenous Peoples. This publication, due in July, will tell the stories of minorities who are being adversely affected by developments on their lands, and the strategies they are using to secure their right to development.

One concrete example that emerged from the discussions in Parliament was given by Hobbelink from GRAIN international. He has set up a website to document cases of land grabbing by foreign investors for food production; the site now documents more than 400 large land deals totalling nearly 35 million hectares, roughly the size of the Netherlands. This kind of information is a powerful tool that can be used to help communities resist destructive projects and control development on their own land.

Behold the Dragon! Might it symbolise hope for China’s minorities?

Daniel Openshaw, MRG’s Research Intern, ponders on what the year of the Dragon might bring for China’s ethnic minorities and indigineous peoples.

新年快乐！ Happy (Chinese) New Year! January 23^rd signified the beginning of the Year of the Dragon, a magnanimous and self-assured beast, proud, passionate and decisive. No bad thing in the right hands but Dragons can also be arrogant, dogmatic, intolerant and brash and won’t hesitate to violently breathe fire on those who oppose them in fits of tyranny. Legend has it that those born in the Year of the Dragon, along with monkeys and rats, will make the best leaders, albeit susceptible to megalomania, narcissism and inflexibility, and so whilst wise and noble on the one hand it seems Dragons can be formidable on the other, especially when faced by a perceived lack of respect or threat to governance. Sound familiar?

Dragons in LA Chinatown. Credit: SFDenverLV

The word ‘Dragon’ could quite easily be replaced by ‘China’ in that description, and so it’s no coincidence that the Dragon is one of the most loved of the Chinese zodiac animals inside and out of the country; the famous dragon dance interferes with almost all Chinese New Year celebrations, or miaohui, be it Year of the Dragon or not. So, with the dragon upon us what might it mean for the plight of China’s 55 ethnic minorities and/or indigenous peoples (the two aren’t mutually exclusive) in the coming year? At first sight it might not seem promising, but let’s delve further…

Chinese New Year occurs amidst chunjie or Spring Festival, a 15-day festival that, although perhaps through state control and manipulation, in many senses unites Chinese ethnic groups. It’s a time for feasting on dumpling suppers with family, exchanging hongbao or red envelopes filled with cash, adorning houses with red lanterns and terrorizing the streets with firecrackers (health and safety in China is not what it is in the West!). Outside of China, the festival is a time to embrace Chinese diaspora and culture with supermarkets promoting Chinese ready meals, the launch of a seasonal version of Angry Birds and next weekend Trafalgar Square will be buzzing with cultural stalls and live performances, probably including a dragon dance or ten.

Miaohui CNY celebrations in Beijing.

There are variations across China’s ethnic minorities; Zhuang people, China’s largest minority drink a special ginger concoction; the Tujia in Hunan province perform a hand-waving dance; Inner-Mongolians traditionally kowtow to their ancestors before drinking and dancing the night away; and the Miao of Guizhou province adorn traditional dress and enjoy flute performances in addition to celebrating their own New Year at a different time; but generally lots of red, lots of loudness and the exchanging of money denotes Chinese New Year throughout the country.

However, it is never quite the harmonious society that the Chinese government would want us to believe. The red, the loudness and the money are symbolic of the measures that Chinese people traditionally used to scare away the evil demon Nian, who would terrorize their villages. And to some minorities, China, the state, has turned into Nian to terrorize them. Xinjiang cities being adorned with red lanterns might be more evocative of increasing Han dominance in the region and forced unification than Uighur desire to celebrate as they do not celebrate Chinese New Year and often work throughout the festival, despite it being a national holiday. Instead they celebrate, along with other Muslim ethnicities, Noruz to mark the first day of Spring, yet they are not allotted holiday by the Han-led Chinese Communist Party.

Tibetan celebrations of New Year are also different, although the dates often coincide and there are stories of pressure to celebrate the Chinese way as opposed to the Tibetan way. Following the 2008 Tibet riots it was reported that the state forced Tibetans to celebrate New Year despite a desire to boycott celebrations in memory of those killed during the unrest.

Let’s also not forget the plight of the migrant workers in the cities, consisting of many different ethnicities but forming a social minority in their own right. State control of national holidays and lack of additional chances of vacation throughout the year force them to queue for hours at train stations for elusive tickets to make their way back to their hometowns. This year it has been reported that a new online train ticketing system was especially tough on migrant workers, particularly those with limited education and web knowledge.

But in a sense there is hope. Look at 2011, Year of the Rabbit, which unlike Dragons are supposedly gracious, kind, flexible and shy. Yet 2011 was marked by continued oppression of minorities with ethnic skirmishes in Xinjiang, self-immolations in Tibet and even a rare uprising in Inner Mongolia. The rabbit also brought a heavy crackdown on political dissidents, most prominently the artist Ai Weiwei.

None of these events are in-keeping with the placid rabbit and so perhaps this will set precedent for the coming year to work against superstition and tradition. So far things aren’t looking promising as already there have been widespread reports of unrest and Tibetans being shot by Chinese paramilitaries for refusing to celebrate Chinese New Year in protest against Beijing control. We can only hope that the dragon’ fire will be extinguished and its more positive attributes used to establish sensitivity toward, greater recognition of autonomy for and less oppression of minorities and indigenous peoples.

Empowerment through sweet eating

Kathryn Ramsay, MRG’s Gender Programme Coordinator, is asked to perform a rather unorthodox task whilst visiting partners in India.

The job of a programme coordinator at MRG is varied, but I never thought it would include being asked to judge a sweet eating competition! I’m in India to visit MRG’s Gender Programme partners. Navsarjan Trust, based 45km outside Ahmedabad in Gujarat, is working with MRG on research on violence against Dalit women and promoting Dalit womens’ leadership. They also run a vocational training centre – Dalit Shakti Kendra (DSK) – and it is young women from the training centre (aged 15-22) who are taking part in the sweet eating competition. Entering the hall, 11 are sitting on a stage with empty plates in front of them, watched by another 20 girls chattering excitedly.

But why would sweet eating be part of a vocational training course? All the girls belong to the Dalit community, the lowest rank in India’s caste system. Dalits are ‘outcasts’ and although illegal, many ‘untouchability’ practices continue, especially in rural areas. The training the girls receive at DSK equips them with skills to do jobs outside their traditional ‘caste occupations’ (demeaning jobs forced on them because of their caste). It also teaches them about equality and empowers them to challenge the discrimination they face. Navsarjan’s Director, Manjula Pradeep, tells me that the sweets they will be eating, known as laddoos, are traditionally only eaten by upper castes members and are forbidden to Dalits.

Dalit girls taking part in the sweet eating competition

I’m asked to hand out sweets to each girl then a DSK staff member starts the competition. The noise and excitement in the hall increases dramatically. Laddoos are balls of about 3cm in diameter made of chickpea flour. I taste one; it’s very sweet and extremely heavy. After each round girls drop out and those continuing are given more sweets. At the end of four rounds the joint winners are obviously delighted (the prize is 1000 Rupees or about £14) although they both look like they’re about to be sick!

The following day is very special for DSK. All of the 2138 women and girls who have received training have been invited back for a celebration of their achievements. Girls from the Valmiki community – the lowest sub-caste of Dalits whose traditional caste occupation is cleaning out human excrement by hand from dry toilets – have been invited as an encouragement to them to join training programmes like DSK. In total around 800 Dalit women and girls are present along with some Muslim and indigenous women who have also received training at DSK. A testament to the value these women place on DSK is that so many travelled from all over Gujarat (some for over 7 hours) and at their own expense, to attend the event.

There is an awards ceremony for current students (including the prize for the sweet eating competition) and then former students tell their stories of coming to DSK and how their lives have been changed. Some are running their own tailoring businesses having been taught to sew and helped to buy sewing machines, others now have jobs in companies after receiving computer training, one has her own mobile phone repairing business and a number have gone on to become staff at Navsarjan.

Also in the audience are 30 Dalit women from 5 other states in India. They are all leaders (or potential leaders) who have come to see the work of Navsarjan and to discuss what they can do to strengthen their leadership and what type of training and support they will need to do it. Sweet eating aside, this is the reason for my visit, and we will spend the next two days devising a plan of action.

Mega-Plantations in West Papua: A Growing Problem

Joe Gonzales, MRG’s Media Intern in London, reports back from a meeting discussing the negative consequences of a commercial agriculture project on the indigenous people of West Papua, Indonesia.

While wearing a shirt bearing a West Papuan national flag, and noting that she wears it while abroad because it is illegal to do so in her own country, Rosa Moiwend steadily guides a mostly uninformed yet captivated audience through her homeland’s troubled recent past.

Rosa Moiwend

Moiwend is a grass roots human rights activist from West Papua, the Indonesian region comprising the western half of the island of New Guinea, 200 miles off the northern coast of Australia. It has been occupied by Indonesia since 1963, bringing an end to a West Papuan self-rule that had only begun in 1961, when the Netherlands renounced its colonial authority over the region.

Despite being part of Indonesia, however, Moiwend claims that the vast majority of ethnic Papuans do not identify themselves as Indonesian.  “It is very clear that West Papua is part of New Guinea, not Asia. We are a Melanesian culture, not Asian.”

In recognition of this, in 2001 the Indonesian government gave West Papua a status of special autonomy, entitling the province to a greater level of self-rule than most other Indonesian regions.  In June of this year, however, the Papua People’s Council rejected West Papua’s status of special autonomy owing to its lack of implementation by the Indonesian government.  Indeed, Moiwend reveals that Indonesia maintains a strong paramilitary presence in West Papua, remarking that one of the militias currently in the state played a large role in the East Timor massacres.

Regardless of the actual effectiveness of Papua’s rejection of its autonomous status, Moiwend points out that West Papua’s standing within Indonesia will be re-evaluated in 2026 (West Papua’s special autonomy was initially agreed upon for a 25-year period, nine of which have already passed).  She fears, however, that as the province’s population becomes ever more comprised of ethnically Javanese migrants who would not think of voting for special autonomy from the Indonesian state, chance for change in West Papua may be fleeting.  As it stands presently, indigenous Papuans only make up 40% of the populace owing to previous waves of migration.

Moiwend is a member of the Malind people, native to the Merauke region located in the central portion of the island’s southern coast, close to Indonesia’s border with independent Papua New Guinea.

In addition to its status as the ancestral lands of the Malind people, the Merauke region is home to the Merauke Integrated Food & Energy Estate, or MIFEE. MIFEE is a project that aims to convert the region into an agricultural super-hub that will supply grains necessary for the production of food and biofuels to the global marketplace.  This transformation, however, is having catastrophic results for the Malind indigenous to the area.

Ms. Moiwend’s London lecture, made possible by War Resisters International, makes the intimate links between the MIFEE project and Indonesia’s occupation of West Papua clear. Alarmingly, she reports that the Malind people’s land is being auctioned off to over 30 commercial investors without prior consent from the Malind landowners themselves. MIFEE aims to convert 1.6 million hectares into commercial farming estates. As such, this is a problem that can only be expected to continue to grow.

Indonesian palm oil plantation on Java (Achmad Rabin Taim)

MIFEE will eventually grow a variety of agricultural commodities, from palm and soy to corn and sugar cane.  Rice production, however, is already well underway owing to the presence of the Merauke Integrated Rice Estate, MIFEE’s predecessor. The paddies necessary for rice cultivation, however, differ drastically from the savannah-like landscape Moiwend depicts when describing the natural state of her homeland.  As such, the hunting, gathering of sago, and all other methods of sustenance known to her people after generations of experience, are being rendered useless, leaving the Malind unable to continue their chosen way of life.

With the forest being cleared to make room for rice fields, crucial elements of Malind culture are also being destroyed. The forest’s role as the foundation of Malind culture is present in the Malind language. Moiwend speaks of the close, generation-spanning links her people have with their land and how, as a child, she learned the Malind language while being guided through the forest by her parents and grandparents. “Our language is inseparable from the livestock and forests,” she notes, and then laments that its use is declining owing to the intrusion of the MIFEE project.  Even the name Meruake is itself an Indonesian corruption of the region’s name in the Malind language, Marokehe.

In addition to the cultural loss, Moiwend suggests that MIFEE will have further consequences that will affect the entirety of West Papua.  The large number of labourers needed to cultivate 1.6 million hectares of farmland means that considerable numbers of Javanese and other non-Papuan Indonesians from the rest of the country are migrating to West Papua.  In doing so, these migrant labourers are causing a momentous shift in the island’s demographics that could have far-reaching effects on West Papua’s political future.

Indonesia’s insistence on selling parcels of Malind land in Merauke to commercial farmers simply confirms a belief that Moiwend holds: “Indonesia doesn’t want our people, they just want our land.” She insists that Papuan self-rule is the only way to resolve the human rights violations that continue to plague indigenous Papuans.

She expresses concern, however, over the previously mentioned nullifying effect continued Javanese migration could have on future votes concerning independence in West Papua. As such, Moiwend worries that the migration swell that projects like MIFEE induce will eventually bring about the end of indigenous Papuan peoples, something she believes has been the goal of the Indonesian government since 1963.  This potential ability of MIFEE to eventually eliminate Papuan culture brings about a strong reaction from Moiwend.  “No one should be surprised when people describe the activity at MIFEE as genocide.  This is a kind of genocide.”

West Papuans protest biofuels in London (Bernard Burns)

Moiwend’s own work consists of coordinating different Papuan student groups in an effort to present a more unified front on threats to Papuan peoples, but she insists that West Papua needs the support of international NGOs and the international community as a whole.  She cites a need for international media coverage to make human right violations occurring in West Papua more ubiquitously known, particularly the negative effects MIIFE is having on her Malind people.

“There is still some time to act,” she optimistically states, because although the Malind people’s land has already been sold, most of them have not been removed from their land as of yet.  That optimism fades, however, when she thinks about where her people will go when the rest of their land is confiscated.  “I don’t know where my people can stay. Maybe they think we should move to the ocean.”

Unraveling the policies of the Khmer Rouge: targeted or mass killings?

Jared Ferrie, MRG’s Regional Information Officer in Phnom Penh, examines the implications for minorities of the first verdict of the Cambodian war crimes tribunal.

When the Cambodian war crimes tribunal delivered its first verdict recently, reactions varied from relief to anger. Relief because three decades after the fall of one of the bloodiest regimes of the 20^th century, Cambodians have now been provided some small measure of justice; anger because many felt the judges let a war criminal off with a relatively light sentence.

A torture chamber at the S-21 prison

Kaing Guek Eav, better known by his revolutionary name, “Duch”, was given 35 years for running a prison where as many as 17,000 people were tortured before being killed. But the court reduced his sentence by 16 years, taking into account a period of illegal detention at a Cambodian military prison, as well as time served while awaiting his trial.

This means Duch could walk free after serving a further 11 years.

The S-21 prison, now a museum.

The prison, a former high school called Tuel Sleng that became known as S-21, was where the Khmer Rouge sent many of its perceived enemies. There, they were tortured into confessing that they were spies working for the Soviet Union, the United States or Vietnam. Among the victims were members of minority communities whom prosecution lawyers say the regime targeted in particular.

The regime’s attacks against minority communities were raised during the Duch trial. But the issue is likely to take on much greater importance in the next case, when four former members of the regime’s ruling clique stand trial on charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity. As of December, each leader is charged with genocide, stemming from the regime’s history of targeting minority communities.

A memorial at the “Killing Fields” outside of Phnom Penh

While the regime carried out mass executions of Cambodians in general – as many as 2 million people died of execution, starvation or disease during their four-year rule – prosecutors succeeded in arguing that the Khmer Rouge targeted minority Cham Muslim and Vietnamese populations in particular.

Members of the Cham community interviewed immediately after the genocide charges were announced said they supported the judges’ decision. Tolosh Kor Seum, 42, and Mok Sika, 69, plan to testify on behalf of victims. Both said they agreed that Khmer Rouge leaders should be charged with genocide.

Tolosh said he decided to testify because he wanted to make sure an historical record exists for the next generation. ‘I want them to know how many Muslim people have been killed by the regime.’

Members of the Cham Muslim minority line up to attend the trial of “Duch”

The Khmer Rouge took a radical interpretation of communism that conflicted with Cham religious beliefs and traditions, which the regime attempted to eradicate. The result was disastrous for the Cham, members of which were the only group to rise up against the regime in armed rebellion. In response, the Khmer Rouge carried out massacres, including one that wiped out an entire Cham community on the island of Koh Phal.

In his book, The Pol Pot Regime: race, power and genocide under the Khmer Rouge, historian Ben Kiernan accuses regime leaders of using rhetoric about ridding Cambodia of those not part of the majority Khmer ethnic group.

According to research conducted by another scholar, Gregory Stanton, Cham Muslims experienced a mortality rate of more than 50 percent, while the rate affecting the general population was about 21 percent.

In March 1999, a United Nations panel of experts concluded that the regime’s targeting of minority Cham and Vietnamese communities constituted genocide, which the UN defines as ‘acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group.’

Some scholars, however, disagree that charges of genocide should play a part in the upcoming trial. In a telephone interview from Melbourne, where he teaches at Monash University, historian David Chandler said it would be hard to prove in court that the regime targeted minorities specifically. He said the new charges could create a ‘smokescreen’ used by the defence to stall the proceedings.

Journalists watch the judgment of "Duch"

All four remaining defendants are elderly and have health problems. There are concerns that they may not live to see their trial through.

Philip Short, who wrote a definitive biography on the Khmer Rouge’s leader, Pol Pot, also disagreed with the genocide charges. ‘Vietnamese were indeed targeted and killed – and not only Vietnamese, but Khmers who had any contact with Vietnam and were suspected (almost always wrongly) of being traitors,’ he said in an email. ‘But they were killed for political reasons, not simply because they were of the Vietnamese race.’

Buddhist monks attend the judgment of "Duch"

He said Cham were slaughtered because of their refusal to adhere to Khmer Rouge orders, and in response to their armed rebellion. In their attacks against the Cham and Vietnamese minorities, Short characterized the regime as being motivated primarily by politics rather than genocidal intent.

The policies of the Khmer Rouge toward minority communities is sure to be one of the most hotly debated issues in the next trial, which is expected to start sometime in 2011.

Reflections on minorities and the MDGs

Lovemore Luwizhu

Media intern Lovemore Luwizhu shares some impressions from his first MRG-sponsored international conference in Budapest, Hungary

I was gripped with excitement, thinking of what lay ahead for me at the conference I’d been invited to attend by MRG.

It was to be my first visit to Hungary, a European country that historically had been part of the Eastern Block during the ‘time of madness’, don’t get me wrong here, I mean the Cold War.

As I am from Zimbabwe, I was also thinking of how I would relate conference experiences to that of my country’s context. Zimbabwe is a country that is no stranger to MRG as it has featured significantly in its annual publications like Peoples Under Threat and the State of the World’s Minorities and Indigenous Peoples.

It also has its own dirty past in the form of the Gukurahundi massacres; an estimated 20, 000 people of the Ndebele ethnic minority group were killed in the early 80s by the government’s North Korea-trained army, to suppress a rebellion in the country’s Matabeleland province.

The conference, entitled The role of minorities and indigenous peoples in development cooperation, was being held to increase awareness in the EU of the needs of minorities and indigenous peoples with regards to the Millennium Development Goals (MDGs).

What made the event exceptional for me was the fact that it gave me a rare opportunity to interact face to face with advocates of minority and indigenous groups from Africa, Asia, Europe and Latin America. The diversity in terms of representation of delegates at the conference was really something; it was like attending a mini-United Nations event and gave me the opportunity to meet many representatives from countries that I only knew through media stories.

Deliberations at the two-day conference broadened my knowledge base on minority and indigenous peoples’ rights throughout the world, most of whom don’t seem to receive much international media coverage.

Leydi Constanza Perez Vente

It was also quite an emotional ride. Leydi Constanza Perez Vente of the Pacific Coast Afro-Colombian Foundation spoke profoundly and passionately of her belief that the Colombian Government is intent on exterminating Afro-Colombians through exploitation and expropriation of their land and other resources.

As Leydi elaborated the plight of Afro-descendants on the Pacific coast of Colombia, she reminded me of the old television series ‘Roots’, set in the slavery period in North America. However, what aroused my anger was the realisation that she was not narrating a movie but telling us about real life violations of human rights being perpetrated on her people by the current government, armed groups and some multinational companies.

It saddened me, as I listened to advocates of minority and indigenous groups tell the same story of governments showing complete failure to protect or promote minority rights in many countries whether in Latin America, Africa or Asia.

In light of an apparent lack of engagement by governments with community organisations, the delegates at the conference called for direct dialogue between Civil Society Organisations (CSOs) and the EU. I found this to be urgently needed considering the many instances cited by participants where governments abuse donor aid at the expense of the marginalised, who in most cases belong to minorities and indigenous groups.

It was also perfect timing for the advocates to raise this issue as a representative of the European Commission’s Civil Society and NGO liaison DG Development Unit attended the conference. It was an opportunity for him to hear of the situation on the ground for minorities.

I must say I was overjoyed at the conference to meet Wilson Kipsang Kipkazi, one of the representatives of the Endorois indigenous community from Kenya, who recently won their land rights case at the African Commission on Human and People’s Rights.

Esther Somoire

Esther Somoire of the Centre for Indigenous Women and Children, also from Kenya, came dressed in her traditional Maasai garb. Esther, who continuously emphasised the need for the EU to have a direct dialogue with the minorities and CSOs representing them on the ground, took advantage of this opportunity to bombard our EC representative with an avalanche of questions that deservedly earned her place in the ‘Guinness book of records’ as jokingly suggested by a delegate.

Getting to know more about Esther and Kipkazi’s struggle reminded me of James Cameron’s latest movie, Avatar. Well, I know some of you might start calling me a movie maniac but I guess you see what I’m driving at here…..