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.

 

UK Parliamentary Recognition of Kurdish Genocide in Iraq: What This Means for Minority Groups Today

On the 25^th Anniversary of the Halabja poison gas attack against Iraqi Kurds, Awaz Raoof, a UK lawyer currently assisting MRG’s legal cases team, reports back from the UK’s House of Commons.

Iraqi Kurds in Iraqi Kurdistan. Credit: james_gordon_losangeles

On 28 February 2013, the UK’s House of Commons formally recognised the genocide against Iraqi Kurds, coinciding with the 25^th Anniversary of the ‘Anfal Campaign’ – a programme designed by the Ba’athi regime to systematically exterminate Kurds from Iraq. The House agreed to encourage governments, the EU and the UN, to formally recognise the genocide, believing that this would enable the Kurdish people to achieve justice, and demonstrate the UK’s support for human rights, made all the more important in light of the slaughter in Syria, and the possible use of chemical weapons there.

The Kurds

The Kurdish ethnic minority number between 30 and 40 million people, and are believed to descend from Indo-European tribes which migrated to the Zagros Mountains around 4000 years ago. Today, Kurds are split across Turkey, Iraq, Iran, and Syria, with populations also living in Azerbaijan and Armenia. There are over five million Kurds in Iraq, constituting 20 percent of Iraq’s population

Kurds have a history of persecution and forced assimilation, including by the British during the 1920s. The Ba’athi regime’s campaign of ‘Arabisation’ and extermination of Kurds is often recalled with reference to the Anfal Campaign, which involved their forced displacement, aerial bombardment, chemical attacks, internment camps, torture, extra-judicial killings, and mass graves. The bombing of the city of Halabja on 16 March 1988 with mustard gas and suspected nerve agents resulted in the horrific death of 5,000 people, and injuries to an estimated 10,000 more. Around 180,000 people were killed between 1987 and 1988, although the true scale of the killing between the 1960s and 1990s is unknown. Widows, broken families, thousands of destroyed villages, and physical and psychological scars and illnesses, continue to tell the tale of the horrendous acts committed.

Was this genocide?

The UK Government defended its recent failure to formally recognise the Kurdish genocide in Iraq on the basis of it being “a complex legal question.” And indeed it is. Under Article 2 of the 1948 Genocide Convention, genocide includes the killing of, or causing serious bodily or mental harm to, members of a national, ethnic, racial or religious group, with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, that group. As expected, the law is riddled with technicalities in meeting the various requirements, particularly with regards to proving specific intent (see for example Akayesu (ICTR-96-4) and Krstić (IT-98-33)).

However, the case for political recognition of the Kurdish genocide in Iraq is strong. In 2005, a Dutch District Court characterised the attacks against the Kurds in the 1980s as genocide, followed by a similar decision by the Supreme Iraqi Criminal Tribunal in 2007, and the Iraqi Supreme Court in 2010. Similar conclusions were also reached by non-governmental organisations investigating the matter, supported by evidence obtained from official records of the Ba’athi regime itself. It is therefore no surprise that, in 2012, the Swedish and Norwegian parliaments recognised the acts as genocide.

Why recognition is controversial

The recognition of genocide is inherently political. The International Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia and International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, which recognised the genocides of Srebrenica and Rwanda, respectively, were products of the UN Security Council, a body which continues to be dominated by the power struggles of its permanent members. The International Criminal Court, which aims to end this issue of ‘selective justice’, has jurisdiction over genocide only if committed on the territory, or by a national, of a consenting state or state party to the Rome Statute, or if referred to it by the Security Council. (Note that the Court does not have jurisdiction over events prior to 1 July 2002.)

Further, genocide – often described as the most heinous crime – is a label which conveys particular moral abhorrence and condemnation, and necessitates questions of blame and responsibility – a particularly delicate area in the field of international politics. This is why instances of alleged genocide continue to fall under the diplomatic radar.

So, it is not what the label reveals, but rather what it allegedly hides that is the concern. The recognition of the Kurdish genocide does not highlight the similar persecution of Yezidi, Assyrian and Turkmen minorities, or the slaughter of Arab Shi’a groups in Iraq. The characterisation of the situation in Darfur as genocide has similarly been criticised for depoliticising and simplifying the complex power struggle into one of “Arabs” against “Africans”, demonising the former in the process, and constructing a vision of the desired political makeup of (what was then) Sudan (M.Mamdani (2007)). The limitation of genocide to national, ethnic, racial or religious groups also eclipses other forms of discrimination. The use of sexual violence as an instrument of war was recognised with respect to the Rwandan genocide, but not the Jewish Holocaust, it being only later in the 20^th century when States were politically prepared to frame gender discrimination as a legal problem (see Catharine MacKinnon, Genocide’s Sexuality, in Political Exclusion and Domination, (2005)).

Iraqi Kurdish refugees in Damascus, Syria. Credit: james_gordon_losangeles

What recognition means for minorities today

Various crucial psychological, diplomatic and legal consequences flow from the recognition of genocide. First, it begins a healing process for the families and communities affected, which is particularly important if the fate of missing persons remain unknown. Under the Genocide Convention, States have an obligation to punish perpetrators of the crime, thus helping to provide the victims with a sense of justice.

Second, Parliamentary debates can shed light on a State’s failure to prevent the genocide, or even on its dealings with the perpetrators. Several MPs during the UK Parliamentary debate highlighted the UK Government’s arms trade with Iraq during the 1980s, despite the calls from certain MPs to suspend these links. Admissions of this kind can further assist victims with dealing with their loss.

Third, State obligations include the prevention of genocide. The Kurdish people continue to suffer discrimination, including serious violations of basic culture and language rights in Turkey, and torture and even death in Iran and Syria, simply because of their ethnicity, often under the guise of anti-terrorism measures. Recognition therefore places a spotlight on such human rights violations, acting as a word of warning to the current perpetrators, and prompting international action to secure the rights of the victims.

Finally, as bearers of human rights under international law, we individuals are direct stakeholders in the international community. We can strive to prevent the recognition of an act of genocide being exploited by States as an opportunistic tool in international politics. As the UK Parliamentary debate demonstrated, by recognising and remembering acts of genocide, not only do we honour the dead, but we give a voice to the most marginalised and silenced communities. And that includes all minority groups affected by genocide, whether or not the act of recognition directly applies to them.

Through this very article, the debate regarding recognition has been a means of highlighting such forgotten groups. Recognition provides an educational role for society, to learn from past experiences, to explore root causes, and to act early to stop history from repeating itself. It allows us to focus on other mass human rights violations in the world today, whatever label is used to describe them, and to strive to ensure that human rights are guaranteed by states for all individuals, in a global society of respect, acceptance and peace.

This is what the UK Parliament’s recognition of the Kurdish genocide in Iraq means for minority groups today.

Catalans: a renewed nationalist movement

Laura Quintana Soms, who interns with MRG’s Street Theatre Programme, explores recent and rapidly changing notions of nationalism in her Catalan homeland

11th September 1714. This is the most important date for any Catalan. It commemorates the siege of Barcelona by the Bourbon monarchy, which led to the loss of Catalan self-rule.  Over time, as this region of Spain became more industrialized, Catalonia  witnessed an increasing number of nationalist movements.

Although Catalan parties had never been clear about their ideas of nationalism and support for a Catalan state, their convictions seem to have changed since 11^th September 2012, when more than 1.5 million people took part in the annual independence day commemoration in Barcelona. People from all over the region traveled to the city waving the Catalan independence flag and shouting “Independència” (‘independence’) or “Catalunya no és Espanya” (‘Catalonia is not Spain’).

11th September 2012 demonstrations in Barcelona. Credit: Meritxell Prat.

Since then, Catalan nationalism seems to have gone from strength to strength, and many political parties are moving towards the idea of a Catalan nation. None more so than the governing Convergència i Unió (CiU), who, after the September demonstration, decided to call an election on 25^th November, although they were only in their second year of a four year term.

The outcome however of the election, with a considerable turn-out of 69.56%, has been a disaster for the CiU, who lost 12 seats. Despite these negative results for the main party, the elections showed that most Catalans support a nationalist movement, because the three main parties advocating the independence of Catalonia (CiU, Esquerra Republicana de Catalunya and Candidatura d’Unitat Popular) gained a majority in the Parliament (74 out of a total of 135 seats).

However, the pro-independence movement is full of contradictions. While the region’s government agreed to hold an independence referendum by 2014, at the same time they asked the Spanish central government for a bailout of 9 billion euros. The Catalan government seems to blame the central government for the economic problems that the region is suffering, whilst the central government opposes Catalan secession and the referendum, labeling it as ‘unconstitutional’.

So what nowadays is considered a nation, and why have the parties changed their stance?

One of the main scholars in the study of nations, Anthony D. Smith, defined the ‘nation’ as, ‘a named human population sharing an historic territory, common myths and historical memories, a mass public culture, a common economy and common legal rights and duties for all members, complemented by a common language, the feeling of belonging to a community and a desire for self-government’. With this definition in mind, it seems that Catalonia can be considered a ‘nation’, as it ticks all the boxes necessary to be defined as such.

However, what has caused the shift in opinion of both the people of the region and the political parties is the concept of ‘national identity’ and not the concept of ‘nation’. In the literature of ‘nationalism’ most scholars such as Hans Kohn, Peter Sahlins, Montserrat Guibernau, John Hutchinson or Thomas Hylland Eriksen, have discussed this concept.

Friedrich Meinecke divided national identity into ‘civic’ or ‘ethnic’. Throughout history scholars have addressed this dichotomy and nowadays, generally speaking, the concept of civic could be quoted as ‘political, territorial and rational’. On the other hand, the ‘ethnic’ concept of national identity could be understood as ‘cultural, organic and inherent’.

Applying this theory to the Catalan context we can see a transition from a ‘civic’ national identity towards an ‘ethnic’ notion of it. This could be caused by the current economic crisis that this region, and the state within which it sits, is suffering, with six million people unemployed. But it could be also caused by the policies that the Spanish government is putting into practice in education, health and economy.

Although the causes are not clear, what it is true is that Catalan parties and society are moving towards a more ethnic- based concept of national identity of ‘us’ highlighting ‘our’ culture, ‘our’ past, ‘our’ language, ‘our’ traditions, ‘our’ story, and ‘our’ history. The notion of ‘us against them’ is growing and thus the tension between the Catalan and Spanish governments is heightened.

If this change affects how Catalan parties perceive immigration will be discussed in a future post.

Sri Lanka: Caught in the crossfire

Alex Singer, volunteering for the Conflict Prevention Programme at Minority Rights Group International, attended the Commonwealth Journalists Association’s (CJA) launch of Frances Harrison’s new book: Still Counting the Dead – Survivors of Sri Lanka’s Hidden War. A former foreign correspondent for the BBC, Ms. Harrison has cultivated an extensive career in Southeast and South Asia. As of 2011, she has been appointed Head of News at Amnesty International. The following is a reflection on the political turmoil surrounding the bloody end of Sri Lanka’s 30 year armed conflict and the search for truth in the voices of its victims.

I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented – Elie Wiesel

As I hesitantly took my seat, with my Houses of Parliament “visitor pass” draped around my neck, the meeting room began filling up with international diplomats, journalists, researchers, Members of Parliament, writers and community representatives.

On the 19^th May 2009, the government declared a military victory against the Tamil Tigers, putting an end to a 30-year period of armed conflict in Sri Lanka. The focus of this launch was on the events that took place during the last five months of the armed conflict between the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), who were fighting for a separate Tamil state, and government forces.

Caught in the middle of this crossfire were the subjects of Ms. Harrison’s book, the “ordinary citizens” of Sri Lanka. Specifically, ethnic Tamils were the target of mass violations of international humanitarian and human rights laws. The book seemed to challenge the audience with testimonials from these citizens, exposing what took place during a “media blackout,” in which massive human rights abuses in the final stages of the civil war slipped unnoticed through the international community’s agenda.

A common theme in this book, and during tonight’s discussion, is the question of what constitutes truth. Ms. Harrison’s chapters, each revealing the story of individual survivors, are interlinked delicately by the motif of human struggle in a period when “the rest of the world looked the other way.”

The death toll for this five-month period is estimated to be 40, 000, yet the numbers of dead have yet to be officially confirmed, and to this day, none of the underlying issues of the conflict have been resolved.

Meanwhile, the audience continued to chatter and exchange business cards. After a resounding call to attention from MP Steve Pound the room fell into a respectful silence. Ms. Harrison was strategically placed at the center of a six-person panel, which included Chairwoman Rita Payne (President of the CJA), Mr. Vidar Helgesen and Minister Erik Solheim (facilitators in the Norwegian-brokered Sri Lanka peace talks in 2002), MP Steve Pound of Ealing North, and MP Siobhian McDonagh of Mitcham and Morden. After Ms. Payne introduced the speakers, she asked Ms. Harrison to explain why she wrote this book, to which she simply responded that she, “felt a need to find out what happened during those final five months of the war.”

Initially, Ms. Harrison had wanted to construct a chronology of events between November 2008 and May 2009. Although she had been in touch with a senior member of the LTTE before writing, she was still unsure of the level and detail of the violence. However her project quickly evolved into a study of “what it was like” in northern Sri Lanka during the final months of the armed conflict, and how victims experienced that period in vivid detail, without relying on the details and dates of what bombs fell and where.

Ms. Harrison wanted to capture where the victims came from, and details of their daily lives. She wanted to contrast the pre-chaos life with the turbulent last months of the civil war. She wanted each story to draw the reader in, so that they may identify with the victim as an individual. This was clear from an excerpt she read to the audience about a Tamil doctor who risked his life under relentless fire, to save members of the community. Other stories involve nurses, journalists, combatants, and more.

What I found most compelling about Ms. Harrison’s talk was her emphasis on the role of the witness as the bearer of truth. To her own surprise, during these interviews, she discovered details that were not being documented or reported on. While tracing the sensations and aspirations of her interviewees, their experiences overlapped facts presented in the 31 March 2011 report by the UN Secretary-General’s Panel of Experts, whose mandate was to advise the Secretary General with regards to the alleged violations of international humanitarian and human rights law in the final stages of armed conflict.

Additionally, she found that the accounts in her book matched details of the witness testaments in the Sri Lankan government’s Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission Report (although the Commission’s status as an impartial Truth and Reconciliation Commission is questionable).

Ms. Harrison was wary that, although this search for victim-centered truth is powerful, it is complicated by a government that refuses to credit the truth of the victim’s experiences. The majority of Sri Lankan journalists and human rights activists have been silenced, by force or by threats. This hurts the victims, who seek proof and public support of their individual traumas.

On a policy level, the Government’s unwavering defense of their stance that there were “zero-civilian casualties”, allowed political and military officials to give up all responsibility for harm inflicted on the victims, under the guise of a humanitarian operation. Given the media and popular support for the Government, the human rights abuses recounted by the victims during the final phases of war have not been properly documented nor have they been brought to justice.

This failed reconciliation was emphasized by Mr. Solheim’s solemn observation that the Government has yet to reach out to the Tamil community and the victims post-armed conflict in a meaningful way.

The victim’s desire to tell the truth, and be believed, became more disheartening when the international community turned an apathetic and uninformed eye away from the situation. What was so unique about the last stages of the Sri Lankan armed conflict, which could inspire such apathy in the international community?  Mr. Helgesen and Mr. Solheim explained that, although there were pictures transmitted through the web and television, no foreign media was allowed onto the Island.

I was intrigued by Mr. Pound’s description of the last months of the civil war as a “war fought in secret.” It was difficult to ignore the shock in Mr. Pound’s face as he explained how effective the war propaganda was, to the extent that it disarmed journalistic insight.

Although it truly was hard to gage what was going on, the international community is responsible in part for this inertia. Mr. Pound aptly interjected that, “whatever happened in Sri Lanka carried on with a tacit approval of the international community.”

Those in international government and media bodies, who did have access to what was going on, did not want to act for other reasons: the fact that Sri Lanka does not have natural resources, nor were they against the fall of the LTTE.

Although there is a huge Sri Lanaka diaspora community of protestors in Zurich, London and Oslo—all of which are very powerful—very few organized protests have taken place that were not pro-LTTE. This fact does not, however, take away from the countless Sinhalese and non-Tamil Sri Lankans who have intervened to promote the Tamil civilian plight. Both Mr. Pound and Ms. McDonagh tried to decipher truth from the heavy emotional atmosphere surrounding the events, admitting that the degree of emotion in the community was so high that it was hard to get the “pure” truth.

Apart from the many questions which are still to be answered post-armed conflict, there is a pall of uncertainty of how Sri Lanka is to proceed. Although the evening provoked sentiments of disappointment and outrage about missed opportunities, the unprecedented and unimaginable abuses experienced by the victims remains immortalized in Ms. Harrison’s writing. She hopes some sort of truth-telling process will emerge from the dark period, which will finally allow the victims to move forward. Even those who escaped, who she hesitates to call “lucky,” cannot return to a stable life.

Ms. Harrison is proud her book can voice the truth of the victims, but the more the truth-telling process is delayed the prospect of long-lasting peace remains tenuous.

Privatization of court interpreting hinders access to justice for non-English speakers in the UK

The UK Ministry of Justice’s decision to adopt a privatized contract for court interpreters has severe implications regarding access to justice for minorities from non-English speaking backgrounds. Shahendra Suliman, MRG’s Conflict Prevention Programme intern, reports.

A contract between the Ministry of Justice and a translation company to provide interpreters for all courts in England and Wales has angered interpreters and frustrated judges.

Whilst previously each individual court hired freelance interpreters from a national register of qualified interpreters, under the new scheme interpreters are provided by a single company, Applied Language Solutions (ALS). The contract, which has promised to cut the annual translation bill by a third, came into effect on 1^st February and has already provoked countrywide protests and boycotts.

Not only does this new deal undermine interpreters by cutting their pay and removing travel expenses for the first hour, but it appears to have had widespread implications for the justice system, particularly for people who do not speak English as their first language.

An interpreters' demo outside the Ministry of Justice. Credit: Andy Taylor

Previous interpreters needed a Diploma in Public Service Interpreting and at least 400 hours of proven public service interpreting experience in the UK to obtain full status on the national register, as well as providing an enhanced Criminal Records Bureau disclosure check. ALS interpreters are assessed using the company’s own method which makes it difficult to determine whether they are fully qualified, for the decision rests at ALS’s discretion. Nonetheless, anecdotes backed up by statistical evidence – 60% of the 2,300 interpreters on the National Register of Public Service Interpreters have refused to work for ALS – suggest that there is a real shortage of qualified interpreters willing to work for the company.

In several cases, interpreters have failed to show up at all, resulting in people being kept in custody longer than necessary. Recently a mother of three young children was kept in jail for three days for a minor theft (such a first time offence rarely results in this) because the interpreter failed to show up. No-shows have left all parties inconvenienced and put victims through unnecessary stress and trauma. An interpreter failed to show up in the case of a vulnerable Pakistani woman who had been violently and sexually assaulted, leaving the presiding judge to brand this ‘a disgrace.’

It should go without saying that competent interpreters are crucial for a fair trial – a right which applies to both English and non-English speaking persons alike. Despite this, court clerks have had to resort to using web translations which can produce highly inaccurate results – one had to rely on Google translate to tell a defendant the details of his next hearing.  In cases where interpreters have showed up, there have been several incidents suggesting that they are not qualified for the task. One interpreter failed to understand the solicitor when he said they had to go down to the cells and didn’t understand what an oath was. A solicitor who deals with a large number of Polish cases has expressed concern that many of the new interpreters ‘don’t understand legal jargon.’

Yet perhaps a failure to interpret is better than a poor interpretation – incidents of incorrect interpretations include telling a suspect that being charged meant that they had to pay the court money, and telling a suspect charged with perverting the course of justice that they were accused of being a pervert.

Needless to say, the potential miscarriages of justice due to poor interpreting should be a huge cause for concern. In Immigration and Asylum tribunals, personal testimonies are vital in deciding whether or not a person is granted asylum or entry/leave to remain in the UK. The slightest misinterpretation could result in vulnerable people being denied entry or deported. Not only this, but the rising number of adjourned trials and the cost of keeping people in custody due to no-shows suggest that the new system may end up costing much more than the old one.

Most recently a trial collapsed at a London court after a Romanian defendant said the claimant had “beaten” them but the interpreter said “bitten.” It was only when the prosecution cross-examined the defendant the next day, asking for evidence of the biting that the defendant corrected them. The estimated cost of the resulting re-trial is £25,000. The mistake only came to light at the end of a four-day trial and the defendant – who is 13 years old – will be forced to go through the experience and give evidence once more.

An interpreters' demo outside the Ministry of Justice. Credit: Andy Taylor

Organizations such as the Association of Police and Court Interpreters, Professional Interpreters Alliance and the Institute of Translation and Interpreting have hit back, teaming up with Britain and Ireland’s biggest trade union Unite to launch a campaign to reverse the privatisation of court interpreting. Protests have taken place in Manchester, Birmingham and London, with interpreters decrying poor pay and condemning the contract as a monopoly.

The Ministry of Justice has authorized courts to bypass the new system for urgent cases for the time being, however until it abandons the new scheme in its entirety non-English speaking minorities are likely to continue to experience poor/false interpretations, extra nights in custody, adjourned trials and potential miscarriages of justice.

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.

Keep on walking

Zulema Cardenas, MRG’s Street Theatre Project Coordinator, is in the Dominican Republic to catch performances of an innovative new theatre piece designed to challenge racism in the Caribbean country

I’m in the Dominican Republic visiting MUDHA (Dominico-Haitian Women’s Association, MRG’s partner in the country) as they perform theatre around the streets of Santo Domingo to challenge discrimination against Haitians and Haitian descendants. I’m with a team of great artists and fantastic professional and non-professional actors from the majority and minority groups in the country.

“We will keep on walking no matter what!”

That’s Baniris final statement after talking about the stateless situation of Haitian descendants in the Dominican Republic. Baniris is one of the young actresses taking part in MRG’s Street Theatre Project. Today she is performing together with other Haitian descendants from the bateyes and some professional actors from Santo Domingo University. It’s a somewhat sad and ironic moment since Baniris hasn’t been admitted to university due to her lack of Dominican citizenship (despite having being born here and a having a brilliant student record). The authorities consider her a person “in transit” from Haiti, as well as her wider family, after 50 years of working and living in the Dominican Republic…

Baniris is finally at the university denouncing this situation and her father is watching her performance. An audience of around 300 people are with him, laughing and nodding in agreement with its sentiments. Afterwards the public is asked to debate the situation portrayed in the play. Many of them are eager to express their disagreement with the current situation and their experiences of discrimination within the country. They tell us that Haitian descendents, and even Dominicans with African ancestors, are discriminated against in daily life and are frequently denied basic rights such as education, access to the health system and participation in decision-making processes.

Back at MUDHA’s headquarters the actors talk about what they’ve gained from participating in this project. The professional actors talk about a great learning and life experience because of meeting the youngsters and communities from the bateyes. On the other hand the young people from the bateyes express that they feel they now are worth listening to and are more able to speak up about their situation in front of thousands of people.

One of the young men says, “I now feel I can talk to everybody as an equal, even if this person is from the city or if they are white person. And I feel I really have the right to complain.” Then Baniris says, “I think this project is helping us to keep on walking, we have learned a lot and developed our skills. All this might be an alternative to our lives in the bateyes. I feel we can succeed.”

Italy’s billboards of hate

Claudia Santoro, who recently spent four months as an intern with MRG’s communications team, looks at how the media affects public perception of Roma in Italy and how the Decade of Roma Inclusion is perhaps falling short of its aim to support impoverished and segregated communities.

The media has the power to turn the spotlight onto emergencies and social issues. At the same time the way it presents reality can strongly influence public opinion. In this context, the way the media portrays minorities can create a hierarchy where there are first and second-class minorities. This is certainly evident in the portrayal of Roma in Europe.

During the past months I’ve found it hard to believe how discrimination against Roma has been publicly addressed in Italy. In May, during the campaign for the election of the mayor of Milan, members of the People of Freedom Party and the anti-immigration Northern League, the parties that retain the majority in the government, created huge billboards with explicit racist attacks targeted against Roma.

Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi stated on his party website, ‘If Pisapia [the opposition’s candidate] wins, Milan will became a Gypsyville of Roma camps’ and ‘Milan cannot turn into a zingaropoli [Gypsytown].’

A xenophobic billboard used during the election campaign for the Mayor of Milan. Credit: REPUBBLICA

The Commissioner for Human Rights of the Council of Europe, Thomas Hammarberg, who was visiting Italy during the political campaign , said he was ‘shocked by the use of xenophobic messages against Romas.’ This statement must be welcomed, but my question is: how long it is going to take to repair the damage caused by the hate speech contained in those billboards?

Just a few weeks before, in Rome, many communities had been evicted from unauthorised settlements in the suburbs of the capital city. These actions affected pregnant women and many children and made some 700 Roma people homeless. But by that time, the arrival of large numbers of migrants from North Africa to the southern island of Lampedusa created a bigger emergency and eventually diverted media attention away from the Roma evictions.

Roma live in very difficult conditions in Italy, and continue to be targeted by the national and local media. The typical “us vs. them” dichotomy dominates the national press as well as in everyday speech. This extends to stereotypes, where Roma are described as ‘dirty’, ‘dishonest’, ‘superstitious’. The Italian media portrayal of migrants forced the UN High Commissioner for Refugees to launch an appeal to create guidelines for journalists reporting about immigrants and asylum seekers. Following this request, the National Council of Journalists’ Association and the Italian National Press Federation established a code of conduct for journalists reporting about migrants, refugees and asylum seekers.

Recently, the Centro d’ascolto dell’informazione radiotelevisiva, a monitoring body on broadcast information, presented a comprehensive analysis that looked at thousands of cases, both in TV and radio, and confirmed the concerns of minority rights activists of the constant connection made in the media between crime and Roma citizens. The findings of the project were presented in Rome, and the vice president of the Italian Senate, Emma Bonino, stated that it is necessary to create a monitoring body on information and media at a European level.

Indeed, Roma live in dangerous conditions all over Europe. The Decade of Roma Inclusion 2005-2015 is a Europe-wide initiative to help impoverished and segregated Roma communities. European leaders are buoyant about the progress made in the inclusion of Roma, however there are many dissenting voices. Gelu Duminica, executive director of the Impreuna Agency for Community Development, a Roma organization based in Bucharest, believes the decade is a failure, because of the scarce effects of the initiatives promoted in EU member states. In the Balkan Insight article, journalist Nikoleta Popkostadinova calls on European states to put words into action on the ground. The strategy, which has the slogan “Nothing for Roma without Roma”, does not involve enough Roma communities, he says. Adam Ademi, who works at the Decade of Roma Inclusion’s Secretariat in Budapest, believes that ‘many believe that the Decade Action Plans are mainly focused to reach already involved and already aware citizens.’

I think projects for Roma integration should also address the mainstream society, in order to remove barriers that block inclusion. Certainly, the lack of integration of Roma in Europe is not only caused by inaccurate reporting, but also, and principally by the (lack of) policies to address these issues.

Protection of minorities is a condition for joining the European Union, but unfortunately member states are not really setting a good example. They are happy to consider Roma issues as a European issue when it involves integration (so that national governments can wash their hands of the problem), but when it involves expulsion they will argue it is a national issue, preventing any effective regional action.

Brick Lane: Merging Cultures in an Urban Context – Part 2

hannah-kaplan

Popularly known for its trendy pubs, fashion hotspots and Bengali food, London’s Brick Lane is again in the news headlines, this time over plans to build two archways resembling the shape of a Muslim head scarf at the entrance to the popular east London neighbourhood. Though now increasingly identified with Bengali Muslims, Brick Lane’s rich historical heritage is defined by immigrants, including Huguenots and Jews. In this second instalment of her blog Hannah Kaplan, an MRG intern of Jewish-American descent, tours the street to discover how minority identity and culture plays out in an urban context.

I found clues to the question of integration in the streets of Brick Lane – inquiries into where I might be able to speak to members of the Jewish community were often met with shrugs of shoulders or shaking of heads. The employees of one of the two existing Jewish bagel shops replied to my inquiry with the simple response, “They’re not here, they’ve all moved out.”

In fact, it occurred to me that perhaps this was a reflection of what populations of all great cities experience – change and adaptation. According to Icons , an organization chronicling the cultural heritage of Great Britain, when Jewish immigrants first arrived in London, they were often met with resistance or suspicion. Traditional Yiddish speakers possessed very little with which to establish a new life for themselves. These Jewish immigrants gradually became integrated into the social network of the city, establishing businesses and relationships within the broader British community.

While first generation Jewish immigrants may have struggled to establish a life for themselves in London, generations down the line, the Jewish community is firmly integrated in the cultural identity of London. However, the location of these communities has with time, and changing socio-economic trends, altered. Today, there are only traces of this influence as grandchildren and great-grandchildren of earlier immigrants have moved on to other neighbourhoods and communities, such as Golders Green and Hendon.

Like the Eastern Jewish population before them, the Bengali community has encountered their own challenges of assimilation. Prejudice and language and cultural obstacles have meant that the process of establishing themselves as part of the British social fabric has at times, been met with controversy. Most recently, a £1.8 million project proposing the construction of two archways at either end of Brick Lane, resembling the shape of a woman’s hijab or veil, has come up against criticism as the local community is divided over the degree to which the neighbourhood should enforce religious identity. While some believe such a specifically Muslim symbol encourages community pride and cohesion, critics claim that these arches represent female subordination or religious bias.

Speaking to a young Bengali restaurant owner, it was clear that while he was proudly Bengali and Muslim, he considered himself in equal parts to be British as well. When questioned about the proposed archways, he expressed his concern and opposition to the plan, saying that it would in turn ostracise other residents of the community. He extolled the virtues of a multi-cultural society and believed that, while he identified himself as a member of a minority community within London, he was still part of British society at large.

Clearly, the constantly changing and shifting nature of a major cosmopolitan centre means that within any society there can exist distinct divides and differences in ethos between community members. Brick Lane is no exception to the rule – a bustling centre of diversity, but one that is just as sensitive to changing immigration trends and cultural influences.

In essence, this is what lies at the very heart of the city, the constant state of change that occurs within every community, every minority group, and every sense of ethnic identity. It is this demographic flux that makes the urban context so unique, the manner in which the identity, practices, restaurants, shops, and houses of worship of one group slowly but surely are augmented by the constantly changing communities that share neighbourhoods.

Happy Anniversary! – Celebrating 40 years of MRG

Demetri Lowe

After decades of campaigning for the rights of communities around the world, MRG is now well established as a leader in the global fight against racial, religious and ethnic discrimination. This achievement is especially impressive considering that the story of MRG began 40 years ago with only a small group of principled journalists and activists. Needless to say, 40 years of commitment and hard work deserves recognition. On the evening of February 11, MRG staff, supporters, volunteers and other friends came together in London to celebrate. I was lucky enough to be there.

MRG’s anniversary event took place at the flagship Foyles bookshop in the centre of London. Foyles stands out as one of the largest bookshops in the city and the second floor with its vast history and politics sections is one of my favourite places to waste a few free hours in central London.

Entering the crowd, I came across a mix of familiar faces from MRG’s London headquarters, as well as many others I had never seen before. Only then did I realise the true significance of our 40th anniversary. For me MRG is a team of staff and volunteers in our London headquarters and regional offices around the world, yet this crowd included many others who have played a role in MRG’s success, including donors, journalists and former staff members.

After the crowd had settled in, the evening’s main event, a discussion between two authors, kicked off. Moderator Razia Iqbal, a familiar face I’d often seen on TV in her role as a correspondent for the BBC, began the discussion by introducing her two guests. Roma Tearne, a Sri Lanka born writer and artist of mixed Tamil and Sinhalese descent whose works often focus on memory and facing the past, and Louise Doughty, an English journalist and novelist of Romany descent.

The conversation focused on how minority issues have affected each writer’s life and work. Before Roma Tearne even began to tell her story I had already imagined the difficulties her parents, a mixed ethnicity couple in a country divided by ethnic conflict, must have faced. With little choice other than to leave their homeland, Tearne’s parent remained estranged from their families in Sri Lanka for the rest of their lives. Louise Doughty explained that her family’s fear of prejudice had kept her from exploring her Romany roots in her first novels. She only felt free to write about the subject after the death of a relative who was especially afraid of his Romany roots being exposed.

The two authors were asked to share their views on the role of artists in dealing with the traumas of conflict and prejudice. Roma Tearne pointed out the importance of art, specifically novels, in preserving the public memory of historical events, but she was quick to mention the vital role that non-artistic measures, such as the establishment of truth and reconciliation commissions, play in healing a post-conflict society. Doughty, who has written widely on Roma rights, said that, although she remains primarily a novelist, her heritage makes it impossible for her not to speak out on the desperate situation many Roma communities face. Both authors declared that a search for identity and a sense of belonging as minorities had influenced their most recent works.

Because of my background in publishing, one of the most fascinating parts of the discussion for me concerned the prospects of minority writers and the depiction of minorities in British fiction. Louise Doughty explained that money was the primary motive behind the UK publishing industry’s growing interest in minority writers and issues. She pointed out that the phenomenal success of Zadie Smith’s 2000 debut novel White Teeth had proved to the industry that novels with minority lead characters can be successful with the British public. Although the recent commercial success of British minority ethnic writers such as Smith, Andrea Levy and Monica Ali definitely marks a change for British publishing, I couldn’t help but think of all the authors and possibly great works of literature that went unpublished or ignored in past decades because of prejudice.

MRG has certainly accomplished much in its 40 year history. Immediately before the event we were able to celebrate two important legal victories; one establishing that the presidency of Bosnia-Herzegovina should be open to all of its citizenry and another establishing an important precedent on the land rights of indigenous communities in Africa. I’m certain that when the next big anniversary rolls around MRG will have many new successes to celebrate and that marginalised communities around the world will have benefited from those efforts.

Find the pictures of the 40th anniversary click here