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Learning To Be A Good Lawyer

By Michael Ayearst Ayearst

My time as a Legal Officer at Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) has given me a glimpse of what it will take to be a good lawyer.  This role was similar in many ways to that of a practicing lawyer: I acted as my clients’ legal counsel, and I used my knowledge of the law, procedures and guidelines to help my clients navigate a legal system and to secure fair and correct outcomes. I was given an incredible amount of responsibility in this role and I learned a lot about essential skills that I will need to continue to work on as I move forward in my legal career. Here are three major lessons that I learned about what it takes to be a good lawyer.

1.  Be organized!

With well over 15 clients at any given time, while also juggling side projects, walk-in clients, daily emergency situations and a growing waiting list for legal services, one of the most important things I could be was organized.  Legal officers have to manage their own case load, and this means dozens of competing deadlines.  Missing these deadlines has serious repercussions on the wellbeing of my clients and so missing anything is simply not an option.  Clients look to you to be a stable and reliable resource for them in the middle of often chaotic situations.  Disorganization affects clients.  For example things like overbooking, rushing an interview, not being prepared and not following up all gives the impression that you don’t really know what you are doing and this can justifiably make a client wary of you and your services.  Also, it helps to prevent the panic of waking up in the middle of the night worried that you missed an important deadline or detail. I think that while all lawyers have to juggle competing priorities and responsibility, good lawyers make sure to do so as efficiently as possible.  There are many ways to accomplish this, but all require strong organizational skills and diligence.

2. Always be improving upon your knowledge and command of your area of law.

It has been very interesting for me to see the level of expertise that I will need to have to be a good lawyer.  The main purpose of my role at JRS was to help our asylum-seeking clients be recognized as refugees as per the 1951 Refugee Convention. I did this by providing advice and constructing legal arguments and submissions on my clients’ behalves. To do this well I needed to know everything I could about international and domestic refugee law, legal procedures and country of origin information to build each case. There is no way around this. When I was assigned a case but didn’t have experience with that type of persecution or a particular profile, I spent a lot of time preparing by doing research and reviewing leading cases in this area. Casework requires significant choices to be made and careful consideration of case details when choosing the direction of your argument.  A good lawyer will be able to quickly identify the major legal issues within a given context and the craft solutions best suited to this situation.

I was fortunate to work under the supervision of an excellent lawyer whose dedication and years of experience made him an invaluable resource on any refugee law related question that I had. He knew it all: He always delivered an instant response to any of my questions, including formulated arguments, reviews of key decisions and verbatim quotes of key passages.  While there is no substitute for experience, being prepared and knowledgeable is essential for being a competent and good lawyer. This experience allowed me to gain an appreciation for the level of mastery that I will need to be a good lawyer and I will always work towards this.

3.  Interpersonal skills are crucial.  Be forthright, truthful and transparent.

My clients were often extremely vulnerable and my job required that I gather extensive details from them about very traumatic experiences and their ongoing daily issues.  I found that strong interpersonal skills were essential for me to do this work well.  I had to listen closely to my clients, work to establish strong working relationships with each one, act as an educator on the laws affecting their lives and wellbeing, and provide them with emotional support.

I found that the key to doing all of these things well was to always be forthright and transparent with my clients. Being forthright is challenging in many cases because it forces you into very difficult conversations. In my role, these conversations included having to tell a client that I didn’t believe their story, that I haven’t worked on a certain case due to time and resource constraints, that I didn’t know how a mother would feed her children, or that some clients had a no chance of being recognized as a refugee at all.  However, being forthright, truthful and transparent during these conversations went a long way to helping my clients to trust that I was always providing them with my honest legal opinion and best work, and in doing so this helped many of my clients disclose sensitive yet essential information to support their cases. By far the most enjoyable part of my internship was developing strong working relationships with clients.  I really appreciated that as a lawyer clients trusted me with the intimate details of their life and with the outcome of their case, and in return I tried to always be transparent and forthright with them. Transparency requires that you explain to clients the ‘why’ of what you are doing during the various elements of your service.  This takes a lot of time.  But I found that it really helps clients to trust you and to be empowered in their legal process.  It also improves your ability to gather targeted information from your clients that you need for effective casework, while also allowing your clients a chance to learn about their case throughout the process of your working together.


Drive Through a Legal Labyrinth

2014-Capela-CecilaBy Cecile Capella-Laborde

map-akwesasne-mohawkLearning about the geography of Akwesasne is essential to understanding the daily struggles of the Akwesasne Mohawk Community, and the jurisdictional conundrums that were at the heart of my research this summer.

I will take you through my daily drive to get to work and back, which begins to give you a sense of the complexities underlying the Akwesasne territory. I resided in the City of Cornwall, and was working at the Akwesasne Justice Department in Kanakaton (St Regis). Leaving from Ontario, the first stop is a bridge toll for the Three Nations Bridge, which crosses the St Lawrence River to Kawehnoke (Cornwall Island), connecting Canada to Akwesasne. The Island, as the locals call it, is the part of the reserve situated in Ontario.

st regis mapGetting off the bridge, it becomes clear that you’ve entered a different Nation. You soon see a Haudenosaunee (Iroquois) Confederacy flag, a tax-free gas station, road signalization and advertisement in the Mohawk language, a sign saying “You Are on Indian Land”, and another “Cocaine and crack will cost you more than money”.

Within a few hundred meters, you come to a stop sign, which stands in front of an abandoned Canadian border-crossing checkpoint. The Cornwall Island port of entry was closed in 2009 as a result of protests resulting from the Canadian Government’s decision to arm border agents. The Akwesasronon (the people of Akwesasne) refused to have armed CBSA agents in a residential area.

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After you pass by the abandoned border station, you reach the foot of a bridge, which marks the Canada-US border. On your right you will see the Aluminum Corporation of America plant (Alcoa), which in 2013 negotiated a $20 million with the Mohawks for a more than 60 year legacy of polluting the St Lawrence River Watershed. These seriously inadequate funds are intended for the restoration of recreational fishing, fish and wildlife, and Mohawk traditions and languages. On the other side on the bridge, you soon come to the Massena US border checkpoint, situated on the US-NY state side of Akwesasne.

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photo 2A sign bearing the message “Welcome to the Empire State” greets you at the first traffic light, which leads you on to the prosaically named Road 37 that crosses the Raquette River taking you through “US side” of Akwesasne.

Here one views more tax-free gas stations, both of the operational and abandoned variety, an abandoned Casino, craft-stores, outlets for tax-free tobacco and alcohol, and several Tribal administrative buildings. After ten minutes, you turn left turn just before crossing the St Regis River.

The smaller road that brings you to Kanakaton stretches through a residential area on the US side. Owing to a lack of zoning regulations the houses are aligned in an unconventional way on this part of the road, and properties are rather large. However, the landscape drastically changes once you arrive at Kanakaton, commonly referred to as “the Village”. Streets are smaller, narrower, properties are smaller and it is more densely populated.

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When you arrive at the Village on that small road, it is easy to not realize that you have crossed the Canadian border. Apart from a small seam in the road where the American paving crew stops and the Canadian one begins, and some metric signage, there are no landmarks suggesting that you have entered Quebec.  No border crossing checkpoint, no sign, so surveillance camera, etc. Yet, for non-Akwesasronon, missing the border can very costly.

Although there is no checkpoint in St Regis, there is a border, and it means that since you have entered Canada, as a non-Indigenous person, you have to report at one of the US border checkpoints, be it Massena, Fort Covington, etc… when you leave the Village to go anywhere else in the US or on your way back to Canada. Furthermore, once you leave St Regis, you are not allowed to stop anywhere in the US before “reporting in”. If you fail to report in or stop somewhere on the way, the US border agency can impound your car and charge you $1000 to retrieve it on the first occasion, $2000 for the second, $3000 the third time, after which they will confiscate it permanently.

Returning to the City of Cornwall from the Akwesasne Justice Department, you must first stop at the Massena US border checkpoint. You have to park the car, go inside the building, and show your passport. The first few weeks, I was asked by the border agents whether I had stopped anywhere on US territory on my way back from St Regis, and whether I had bought any goods in Canada. After a month of stopping everyday they ceased to ask me any questions or look at my passport. They would say “Reporting in? You’re set.  Free to go.” You might, as I did, find this attitude upsetting, as Akwesasranon waiting behind you receive a very different treatment from border agents.

Once cleared, you drive back across the bridge to Cornwall Island, and have to make sure to not stop anywhere on the Island as you make your way to the Canadian border check-point. You must head straight to the Three Nation Bridge, cross the St Lawrence to Mainland Canada, pay a $3.25 bridge toll, then pass through the Canadian border checkpoint. It’s only at this point that you may backtrack to Cornwall Island if that is your final destination.photo 2 (1)

Again, it is because Cornwall Island is technically Canada and there is no border crossing on the Island, you are not allowed to stop on your way, and must head straight to the Canadian border checkpoint. If you don’t follow these rules, this time you risk the Canadian officials confiscating your vehicle. However, and importantly, Canada is less flexible than the US, and applies this rule to Akwesasranon and non-Akwesasranon alike.

This has serious implications for the residents of Cornwall Island, and of Akwesasne more generally. It means that whenever someone is going to Cornwall Island from other parts of Akwesasne, they must take the extra step to cross the Island without stopping, cross the toll bridge, get cleared by the border (they are often subjected to discriminatory treatment and other human rights violations, which has spawned several lawsuits), cross the toll bridge again, and across the bridge, before finally reaching their destinations on Cornwall Island.

I will leave it at that for now, and look forward to telling you more about my work at Akwesasne, and hearing about your experience on Friday. Happy Labour Weekend! Oh, and if you’re interested, Akwesasne is having one of its most anticipated events of the year next weekend, check it out at: http://www.akwesasnepowwow.com/. In July, I went to the  Kanhawake Pow Wow, and it’s worth the trip!

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Photos by Neal Rockwell

India, an Idea

2014-Grbac-PeterBy Peter Grbac

No guidebook, no first-hand narratives, no newspaper reports, nothing really can prepare you for an experience in India. I say India but having spent the past four months wandering the streets of Kolkata, sipping tea in Darjeeling, seeing the dead float down the Ganges, drifting through temples scattered around the North, and sitting through traffic (lots of traffic), there really is no such thing called India. This so-called nation is as diverse as it is large as it is old. It is the cultures, the languages, the foods, the clothing, the religious beliefs, the superstitions. For me, India is, above all, an idea. This is a country that, in so many ways, really shouldn’t work. Yet it does.

There is, of course, the real risk that the Westerner, in his or her immersion in this land exoticizes, even fetishizes, India. I think that for every visitor to India who has “found” himself or herself, there is a visitor who leaves the country more confused, more unsettled, more restless. As I get set to leave this country, I find myself identifying with the latter. This is a place that has, all at once, proved to be as overwhelming as it is calm, as ugly as it is beautiful, as miserable as it is happy. In the middle of my archival research, I came upon the following editorial in The Statesman written by James Cameron on May 31, 1971. This is what he had to say about Calcutta and India more generally:

When I finally came to India it took about thirty seconds flat to put me in my place, and there I have remained. Every time I return to Calcutta I feel it must be surely impossible that it can continue much longer like this; yet it always does. An interval of a year makes the visual impact more painful, the squalor more squalid, the poverty more militant, the despair more desperate. There is no way of rationalizing Calcutta. It is Indian acceptance, which may be torpor; Indian resilience, which may be opportunism; Indian philosophy, which may be indifference; Indian ingenuity, the instinct for survival. I find Calcutta an intimidating and even infernal city, unredeemed, and probably doomed. In a month or so I shall probably be back, to eat my words, as I always do, and find, as one always finds, a flash of redemption in the company of a friend, and the remembrance, more humbling now than ever, that India has gone on for a very long time.

I have to admit that like Cameron, I too have eaten my words more than once. Calcutta is a city, as I pointed out in my first blog post, of extremes where the drama over justice, equality, and fairness envelops you like the sweltering heat. You can’t avoid it and it usually leaves you feeling powerless, vulnerable, and weak. You sense it when you read about the rape cases, or when you hear firsthand testimony about the unequal power dynamics within the court system, or when you study changes in the law that have re-written the rules to favour developers over the poor farmers. These experiences can leave you on the margins, forced to observe what I described as the “daily festival of human existence with all the good and bad that that existence entails.” But it doesn’t have to be that way. My experience at the CRG – listening, reading, writing, asking questions, debating – has highlighted the place and role of academic research in the framing, structuring, and influencing of this drama. Working at the CRG was certainly more than visiting archives, producing original research, and publishing a paper. It was an experience with and of ideas – ideas that extended far beyond the law and refugee rights. These were ideas encompassing topics as diverse as class and culture, economics and equality, bollywood and hollywood. Instead of describing these ideas, I’d like to invite you to join in the conversation. I conclude my last blog post with a mock syllabus (what some might call a summer reading list) that I’ve organized around some of the key themes that have sustained my thinking this summer. There are no papers, no finals, no quizzes. I look forward to carrying on this summer of ideas back in Montreal.

India 1971: Between the Camp and the City

Week 1: India at the (geopolitical) crossroads
(Book) India After Independence: 1947-2000 (2000) Bipan Chandra
(Book) The Blood Telegram: Nixon, Kissinger, and a Forgotten Genocide (2013) Gary J. Bass
(Films) The Apu Trilogy – Pather Panchali, Aparajuto, and Apur Sansar (1955, 1956, 1959) Directed by Satyajit Ray
(Novel) A Golden Age (2012) Tahmima Anam
(Novel) Such a Long Journey (1991) Rohinton Mistry

Week 2: Theorizing borders, boundaries, and spaces of difference
(Article) The Study of Boundaries in the Social Sciences (2002 – The Annual Review of Sociology) M Lamont, V Molnar
(Book) Borders, Histories, Existences: Gender and Beyond (2010) Paula Banerjee
(Book) Cultivating Differences: Symbolic Boundaries and the Making of Inequality (1992) M Lamont, M Fournier
(Book) Postcolonial Theory: Contexts, Practices, Politics (1997) B.J. Moore-Gilbert
(Book) Understanding Postcolonialism (2012) Jane Hiddleston

Week 3: Building the urban spaces of India
(Book) Capital: A Portrait of Twenty-First Century Delhi (2014) Rana Dasgupta
(Book) City of Djinns (1993) William Dalrymple
(Book) Maximum City (2004) Suketu Mehta
(Book) Violence in Urban India: Identity Politics, ‘Mumbai’, and the Postcolonial City (2005) Thomas Blom Hansen
(Film) Slumdog Millionaire (2008) Directed by Danny Boyle
(Press) The Slumdog Millionaire Architect (June 19, 2014) Daniel Brook, New York Times Magazine [Link: http://www.nytimes.com/2014/06/22/magazine/the-slumdog-millionaire-architect.html?_r=]
(Press) Mumbai Land Grab (October 24, 2012) Faiza Ahmed Khan [Link: http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/activate/2012/10/20121014113746742151.html]

Week 4: Modernity and the Urban
(Book) Calcutta Requiem: Gender and the Politics of Poverty (2007) Ananya Roy
(Book) Cultures of Servitude: Modernity, Domesticity, and Class in India (2009) Raka Ray
(Book) Places on the Margin (1991) Rob Shields
(Book) The Global City (1991) Saskia Sassen
(Book) The Urban Sociology Reader (2012) J Lin, C Mele
(Novel) Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity (2012) Katherine Boo
(Film) Mahanagar/The Big City (1963) Directed by Satyajit Ray

Week 5: Violent streets, Violent cities
(Article) Urban Violence and Insecurity: An Introductory Roadmap (October 2004 – Environment and Urbanization Volume 16 Number 2) Caroline Moser
(Book) Calcutta: Two Years in the City (2013) Amit Chaudhuri
(Book) Cities and Citizenship (1999) James Holston
(Book) The Naxalite Movement in India (1995) Prakash Singh
(Book) Urban Outcasts: A Comparative Sociology of Advanced Marginality (2013) Loic Wacquant
(Film) Calcutta Trilogy – Pratidwandi (The Adversary), Seemabaddha (Company Limited), and Jana Aranya (The Middleman) (1970, 1971, 1976) Directed by Satyajit Ray
(Novel) The White Tiger (2008) Aravind Adiga

Week 6: Managing displacement
(Article) Conceptualizing Forced Migration (2003 – Refugee Studies Centre) David Turton
(Book) Managing Displacement: Refugees and the Politics of Humanitarianism (2000) Jennifer Hyndman
(Book) Refugees and the State: Practices of Asylum and Care in India, 1947-2000 (2003) Ranabir Samaddar
(Book) Rights in Exile: Janus-Faced Humanitarianism (2005) Barbara Harrell-Bond
(Book) The UNHCR and World Politics: A Perilous Path (2001) G Loescher, DR Baldwin, H Rothstein

Week 7: (International) law and (international) institutions
(Article) The Geopolitics of Refugee Studies: A View from the South (1998 – Journal of Refugee Studies) BS Chimni
(Article) International Refugee Protection (1986 – Human Rights Quarterly) David Kennedy
(Document) 1948 Declaration of Human Rights [Link: http://www.un.org/en/documents/udhr/]
(Document) 1951 Convention and 1967 Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees [Link: http://www.unhcr.org/3b66c2aa10.html]
(Book) From Resettlement to Involuntary Repatriation: Towards a Critical History of Durable Solutions to Refugee Problems (1999) BS Chimni
(Book) Governing Refugees: Justice, Order and Legal Pluralism (2014) Kirsten McConnachie
(Book) The Refugee in International Law (1996) GS Goodwin-Gill, J McAdam

Week 8: War as humanitarian intervention?
(Article) A Few Words on Mill, Walzer, and Nonintervention (2010 – Ethics and International Affairs) Michael W. Doyle
(Article) After Bangladesh: The Law of Humanitarian Intervention by Military Force (1973 – American Journal of International Law) Thomas M. Franck and Nigel S. Rodley
(Article) Bad Neighbors, Bad Neighborhoods: An Inquiry Into the Causes of Refugee Flows (1996 – International Security) Myron Weiner
(Article) On Humanitarianism: Is Helping Others Charity, or Duty, or Both? (2011 – Foreign Affairs) Michael Walzer
(Article) The Externalities of Civil Strife: Refugees as a Source of International Conflict (2008 – American Journal of Political Science) Idean Salehyan
(Book) Pakistan: Failure in National Integration (1995) Rounaq Jahan

Week 9: Repatriation, Rehabilitation, and Reconstruction
(Article) Dilemmas of Diaspora: Partition, Refugees, and the Politics of “Home” (2006 – Refuge) Pablo Bose
(Article) Refugees in Diaspora From Durable Solutions to Transnational Relations (2006 – Refuge) N Van Hear
(Article) Refugees, Return and Reconstruction of ‘Post-conflict’ Societies: A Critical Perspective (2002 – International Peacekeeping) BS Chimni
(Book) UNHCR and Voluntary Repatriation of Refugees: A Legal Analysis (1997) Marjoleine Zieck
(Book) The End of the Refugee Cycle? Refugee Repatriation and Reconstruction (1999) Richard Black, Khalid Koser

Week 10: Conclusion – “…the proper use of verbs of movement”
(Novel) The Shadow Lines (1988) Amitav Ghosh

La antigua panaderia, la Sele et Ban Ki-Moon

Jacinthe PoissonJacinthe Poisson

Être stagiaire à la Cour interaméricaine des droits de l’homme, ça implique travailler des heures incalculables à décortiquer et analyser les pires cas de violations des droits de la personne en Amérique latine[1]. Mais ça implique également travailler sur des dossiers confidentiels, il m’est donc difficile de commenter mon travail quotidien à la Cour. Voilà pourquoi je vais vous parler pêle-mêle aujourd’hui de trois sujets, de la bizarrerie quotidienne de San José à certains évènements marquants qui ont généré bien des réflexions parmi les stagiaires de la Cour.

200 metros sur, 100 este de la antigua panadería

San José, Costa Rica, c’est une ville sans adresse, sans nom de rue et sans numéro d’édifice. Je crois bien c’est la seule capitale d’Amérique latine ainsi. Le stagiaire s’en rend compte dès le premier jour, où trois lignes entières du formulaire d’identification sont dédiées à « expliquer » son adresse. À San José, on se retrouve (ou plutôt, seulement les taxis s’y retrouvent!), avec une adresse comme celle-ci : 200 metros sur y 100 metros este de la antigua panaderia de San Pedro (l’ancienne boulangerie). Il y a plusieurs éléments à décrypter dans cet énoncé. D’abord, est-ce qu’on doit vraiment évaluer la distance parcourue en mètres? Heureusement non, bizarrement, un coin de rue équivaut à 100 mètres, peu importe sa réelle longueur! Il faut aussi constamment savoir où est le nord, sud, est et ouest pour s’y retrouver. Mais le pire selon mon collègue tico (lire ici : costa ricain), c’est l’incompréhension intergénérationnelle qui résulte de ce système géographique. Parfois, le point de repère principal n’existe plus, comme c’est le cas de l’ancienne boulangerie. Les personnes âgées et les chauffeurs de taxi vont savoir où la trouver, mais les jeunes et les voyageurs de passage, aucune chance. Donc attention, si vous passez par San José, oubliez votre GPS, amenez votre boussole!

La Sele

Vivre la Coupe du Monde 2014 au Costa Rica a généré en moi des sentiments bien contradictoires. La Sele tica (sélection de soccer costaricaine) a atteint pour la première fois dans son histoire les quarts de finale, devenant la « surprise » du Mondial. Des milliers de personnes ont déferlé à chaque victoire à la « Fuente de la Hispanidad » à 500 mètres de chez moi (cinq coins de rue!), le point de ralliement des festivités, qui est pourtant un rond-point d’autoroute. Ma première entrée dans la salle d’audience de la Cour interaméricaine, une belle salle solennelle avec tous les drapeaux des pays membres de l’Organisation des États Américains, a justement eu lieu pour regarder l’un de ces matchs avec tous les stagiaires et avocats de la Cour, tous pays confondus. match cour

J’ai suivi le match où le Costa Rica a perdu à un cheveu en pénalités contre la Hollande dans un petit village de la côte caraïbes et je n’oublierai pas de sitôt la vieille dame afro-descendante derrière moi qui pleurait en se lamentant bien fort : « hijos mios, se merecian la victoria, pero les amamos, les perdonamos… ». Même si on n’aime pas nécessairement regarder le soccer, comme c’est mon cas, impossible de ne pas se laisser emporter par cet enthousiasme et ce patriotisme. Justement, à bien y réfléchir, là est mon inconfort.

Mentionner les milliers d’expropriations et d’expulsions pour les constructions des stades dans 12 villes brésiliennes, les dépenses exorbitantes dans un pays où les inégalités sont si fortes, les opérations controversées de « pacification » dans les favelas ou le mouvement de boycott du Mondial m’a attiré au mieux un regard d’indifférence, au pire une réaction outragée. J’étais aussi surprise de constater que peu de stagiaires et d’avocats de la Cour ont mentionné ces enjeux durant les maintes rencontres sportives. Les discussions de couloir et de cafétéria portaient presque seulement sur les résultats des diverses Sele d’Amérique latine et la fierté d’être colombien, mexicain ou tico. Nuancer les bienfaits du fûtbol et du Mundial au Costa Rica, c’est pratiquement sentir qu’on est contre l’intérêt patriotique du pays. Je ne peux pas m’empêcher de penser que si autant d’énergie, de ressources et de solidarité étaient dédiées au changement social, les résultats seraient incalculables.

Ban Ki-Moon à la Cour interaméricaine

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(Selfie des stagiaires avec Ban Ki-Moon et le président du Costa Rica)
Autre moment historique : la première visite du Secrétaire Générale des Nations Unies à la Cour interaméricaine le 30 juillet 2014. Alors que la plupart des stagiaires tentaient d’intercepter Ban Ki-moon pour prendre un selfie avec lui (ils ont d’ailleurs réussi, avec les Présidents du Costa Rica et de la Cour en prime), une manifestation de dizaines de personnes s’organisaient devant la Cour. Tout un contraste! Mentionnons que la plupart des stagiaires de la Cour proviennent des universités privées d’Amérique latine ou font partie de la classe sociale favorisée de ces pays et ne sont généralement pas très portés sur la manifestation[2]. Les manifestants tentaient d’attirer l’attention de Ban Ki-Moon et des médias sur deux enjeux de grande importance: les titres autochtones dans la région de Salitre et l’invasion de Gaza par Israël. Puisque le monde entier a les yeux rivés su Gaza, parlons de Salitre.

(Manifestation devant la Cour interaméricaine)

La reconnaissance légale des territoires autochtones au Costa Rica est à des années-lumière du système de réserve prévu par la Loi sur les Indiens au Canada. Alors que « sa majesté détient des réserves à l’usage et au profit des bandes »[3] au Canada, la Ley indigena de 1977 au Costa Rica prévoit que les communautés autochtones ont la pleine propriété de leurs territoires, lesquels sont « inaliénables et imprescriptibles, non transférables et exclusifs aux communautés indigènes qui les habitent ».  8 groupes autochtones se partagent 23 réserves à travers le Costa Rica. Mon collègue colombien m’a un jour affirmé qu’en théorie, la Constitution colombienne est celle qui garantit le mieux les droits humains dans le monde, même si la réalité en est bien loin. La même équation semble s’appliquer aux droits territoriaux autochtones au Costa Rica.


(Peuples et territoires autochtones au Costa Rica)

Les dirigeants de la communauté bribri de Salitre estiment que 40% de leur territoire est occupé par des finqueros non autochtone, ce que la Ley indigena interdit. Certains ont occupé par la force ces terres, alors que d’autres les ont acheté, ce qui est également interdit par la Ley indigena. En 2008, les tribunaux ont réaffirmé l’illégalité et la nullité juridique des achats et transferts de territoires à des non autochtones. En juillet, de nombreuses familles autochtones ont érigé des campements sur ces terres occupées, mais certains ont été incendiés et une centaine de finqueros ont bloqué l’accès au territoire bribri dans la nuit du 5 juillet. La tension est redescendue depuis et la Vice-ministre a clarifié que les non autochtones devront quitter le territoire. La solution qui se profile à l’horizon? Le gouvernement offrira probablement des compensations aux finqueros afin qu’ils quittent définitivement le territoire.


(Campement incendié à Salitre)

[1] Notons tout de même que fort malheureusement, de terribles cas de violations de droits de la personne n’arrivent jamais à la Cour, faute de ressources, de connaissances des victimes de leurs droits, de peur des représailles, de ratification par l’État concerné, etc.  Je dis ici Amérique Latine puisque ni le Canada ni les États-Unis n’ont ratifié la Convention Américaine relative aux Droits de l’Homme, qui ouvre la possibilité pour la Cour de recevoir des plaintes individuelles.

[2] Je fais ce constat avec tout l’amour et le respect que j’ai pour mes adorables collègues. De nombreux facteurs peuvent l’expliquer: le fait que les stages à la Cour ne sont jamais rémunérés, que beaucoup d’universités privées en Amérique Latine sont de fervents participants et gagnants des divers concours de plaidoirie en droit interaméricain, que la pratique juridique en droit international des droits de la personne n’est généralement pas une branche lucrative du droit, mais attire une forte aura de prestige, etc. Je tire ces hypothèses de mes conversations avec mes amis et collègues.

[3] Art.18 (1) de la Loi sur les Indiens, L.R.C. (1985) ch. 1-5.


Matthias Heilke

My colleagues asked me to write a retrospective of my twelve weeks at CEHURD. Much as I am looking forward to cheese curds, CanLII, and public transit, it has been a spectacular summer. I came to Uganda hoping to learn about how law interacts with ground realities to produce good or bad outcomes. My experiences here taught me a great many things about working in law, and the issues surrounding ground realities were chief among them. The real lessons tend to be fairly specific, so this summary is slightly trite, but bear with me anyway.

Let’s start out really obvious: ground realities are shocking. I spent some time on a lawsuit against a hospital whose doctor took several hours to attend to a woman named Irene, even though she had a ruptured uterus. Irene ended her life begging for mercy while her husband watched helpless. Around a quarter of HIV-positive Ugandans do not receive public anti-retroviral treatment — yet HIV-positive mothers are sometimes forced by their families to breast-feed their children, giving them HIV in turn. I have read hundreds of pages of Ugandan health policy, and much of it is first-rate. But policy solves nothing without implementation, in which case it isn’t much comfort to Irene’s family.

People are varied and pragmatic, and Ugandans are as varied and pragmatic as anyone. At a trivial level, people’s response to a mzungu varied from cynical opportunism to kind hospitality — more of the latter, happily! Less trivially: many doctors in Uganda demand bribes from the patients, even when the patients’ conditions are life-threatening. However, there are also Ugandan doctors who travel long distances by motorcycle to deliver urgent care to patients who cannot reach the hospital. Others even pay for emergency treatments out of pocket when the patient is destitute. Health interventions tend to aim at the median of the target group — that isn’t a bad thing — but it is worth remembering that generalizations about a country of thirty million are, well, generalizations.

Gender relations and other inequalities have an enormous impact on access to health, especially as it relates to combatting HIV. Both women and men hate to get tested, and rarely tell sexual partners their HIV status — men because nobody will sleep with an HIV-positive person, and women both for that reason and because they are afraid their husbands will throw them out. Wives don’t always have a choice about whether to sleep with their husbands, which also transmits HIV. Health centres try to overcome the testing barrier by including HIV testing with regular services like antenatal care — but men see ANC as a women’s job, don’t like sitting in waiting rooms full of women, and don’t come. Then the health centres resort to discrimination to try to bring in the men. NGO’s, incidentally, make the problem worse — NGO’s usually present testing men as just another way to protect women and children, so men don’t perceive the health benefit to themselves. Poverty has comparable effects: the impoverished lack resources to protect themselves against exploitation, and yet cannot afford to be exploited. Reduce inequality, and the right to health improves.

However, the dominant issue I have seen everywhere this summer is limited capacities. I went on a field visit in June to meet with doctors. They complained of lacking surgical gloves, blades, and essential medicines. Boxes of pharmaceuticals reach health centres almost empty. Health centres never receive the beds they need. There are never any funds to repair equipment — if something breaks, it just rusts. Private health providers pop up everywhere to fill the gaps, but many people cannot afford to pay — so they die instead. Private clinics are often run by public doctors; doctors barely earn a subsistence wage, so they illicitly open private clinics and try to force patients to use their clinics instead of the health centres. Policies can ameliorate such problems: for instance, donors should always budget for training and repairs, and good lines of accountability keep corruption in check. That said, funding levels always limit services, and that in turn limits outcomes.

Limited capacities also affect the law. Good policymaking takes time and expertise, and time and expertise cost money. Uganda does not always end up with the laws, regulations, and programmes it deserves, simply because the funds are lacking to create innovative solutions. CSO’s are constrained, too — there are ideas and strategies that CEHURD would undoubtedly pursue much further if there were donors to support them. Just like doctors and patients, policymakers, lawyers and CSO’s have to make do with what they have.

However, there is reason to hope. At a grand level, Uganda’s health is improving: more people are getting vaccines, ARV’s, etc.; health facilities are slowly improving; people are living longer. At the ground level, the people I met, from elites to subsistence farmers, pay attention to health issues, are learning how to make the most of their situations, and are ready to hold the authorities accountable for upholding Ugandans’ right to health. Dear authorities, take note. People are unusually afraid of the future in Uganda — Milton Obote, Idi Amin, and Joseph Kony (among many others) have given people good reasons to think of the current peace as an aberration — but Uganda is getting wealthier, and its people increasingly want a hard look at how that wealth is spent. Health is improving, and expect it to improve a whole lot more.

Canada meets Colorado!

2014-Smydo-Staceyby Stacey Smydo

I was super excited when I found out that I would be working at the One Earth Future Foundation this summer, both because I knew it would be a fascinating place to work and because I had never spent any significant amount of time in the U.S. and was curious about what it would be like to live here. Throughout the last months of interacting with my co-workers and roommates, I’ve learned a lot!

The Fourth of July is not a day but a week-long celebration. The group of interns went tubing on Boulder Creek and had a fantastic day!

Colorado, and specifically Boulder, fits the stereotypes. Boulder is often called the fittest city in America, and I can definitely see why! Everyone runs marathons, or ultra-marathons for that matter, does triathlons, ironmans, rock-climbs, does yoga etc. It’s both terrible for my own ego and fantastic motivation!

Politics comes up quite frequently in conversations (I might have something to do with this…)  Somewhat counterintuitively, marijuana was legalized in Colorado in January of this year, yet gay marriage is not. I asked around about this and found out that Colorado has both some of the most liberal and most conservative cities in the country. This results in some seemingly inconsistent laws.

In terms of local perspectives about Canada, we discuss healthcare a lot (of course), and I found out that Rob Ford has overtaken Justin Bieber as the most famous Canadian. Excellent. Similarly, talking about Canadian and American history yields some interesting discussions. For some reason or another, I started talking about the Loyalists and was immediately shot down with a “You mean the Tories??”.

On the work side of things, I’ve noticed a difference in how Canadian and American universities approach political science (my undergrad). I talked a little bit about how OEF is “relentlessly empirical” in my last post. American universities approach political science similarly, very quantitatively, while Canadian political science is more qualitative. Well, my first assignment required a decent knowledge of working with data sets and statistics … Luckily I used one of my electives in undergrad to take a statistics class!

So there haven’t been many major adjustments and the few that we have come across are more entertaining than anything. Hiking (and driving) in miles seems to take forever, I still spell “Canadian”, and don’t even get me started on my dislike of dollar bills. But, overall I love Colorado!

2014-08-03 20.15.09

Human Rights Education, Hot Topics and Turkey Necks

2014-Corobow-ArielleBy Arielle Corobow

The International Human Rights Training Program organized by Equitas for the past 35 years has been a site of participation, learning, teaching, laughter and dance. Participants from all around the world gather to learn from one another and explore methods of human rights education. Over the years, the program and its curriculum has evolved but maintained a strong focus on education and gender.

As a training program for human rights educators, Equitas does a fantastic job of creating a comprehensive manual and emphasising the participatory element of education. Its program starts with the individual and spirals outwards until it involves the greater international community. What interests me is the fine balance of choosing topics of discussion that will engage everyone without being too western centric in nature. How you chose what to teach in a program that brings together such a diversity of participants?

First, let’s consider the plenary session on aboriginal rights. This is the most Canadian focused presentation at the IHRTP and I think one of the most important plenaries because it offers an image of Canada as a country that continues to struggle with, and infringe, human rights. Participants were shocked to hear about the living conditions of some aboriginal communities in Canada and the plight of native women. I think even many Canadians would be shocked if they knew the situation of aboriginal people in Canada and that this reflects a purposeful blindness and silence in our education. What I wonder, however, is whether a Canadian centric plenary is appropriate in a program that brings together people from all over the world. Isn’t it privileging a particular country’s version of the issue?

Another thing that surprised me, as someone with a background in religious studies and gender studies, was that discussions about freedom of religion and LGBTI rights, while addressed, were additional evening sessions. Participants had to sign up for them. In North America, these topics are at the forefront of conversations about human rights. They remain extremely controversial around the world. We can’t ignore them but as one participant said, “maybe there are other issues that are more at the forefront of human rights violations in my country”. While this may be the case, more than 2/3 of participants attended the LGBTI session. The freedom of religion session, while smaller, brought together people who engaged directly with this issue and people who felt religion affects their work and wanted to talk about ways in which to address this underlying issue. These are issues people want to talk about. Are they truly so divisive that integrating them in the actual curriculum would be exclusionary? If you cant talk about it here, where can you?

I didn’t write this entry to come up with answers. There are pros and cons to whatever way you chose to implement “hot-topics” in a training conference about human rights. I think that my own engagement acts as a great example of how our own cultural perspective shapes our study of human rights. What is most important is to be reflective and aware of where these opinions and beliefs come from.

To end, I’d like to retell a small story I heard during my first week at Equitas. While the impact might be lost in the retelling, it was a great way to start me thinking about cultural relativism and the importance of self-reflection.


There’s a young girl who asks her mother – Mama, why do we cut off the turkey’s neck at Thanksgiving? Is it important?

Her mother answers – I don’t know, we’ve always done it.

The young girl goes to her grandmother and asks her the same question. The grandmother’s answer is the same – I don’t know, we’ve always done it.

As the little girl asked more and more people, she keep getting the same answer. She was sure there must be a significant reason since it was something they had always done.

Finally, the young girl ask her great-great-aunt. Her aunt looked at her and said – It’s simple, the bird doesn’t fit in the oven if you don’t chop off the neck.




HIV and Sex – Not a Risky Business

By Isabelle Rémillard

IMG_3251[1]Four girls in downtown Toronto, a little bit of gin, and a conversation about one-night stands. It didn’t take too much time before we argued the proper etiquette to adopt before engaging in some gymnastics under the sheets with a total stranger. Each one of us had a different idea of what was appropriate to ask, what we should expect from our partner… and how these opinions would be completely different if the other person was actually HIV-positive. One of us said, quite categorically, that she would never sleep with someone who was HIV-positive, even if he’d wear a condom. ‘’You do know that there’s no risk of transmission when a condom is used, right?’’, ‘’I don’t care’’.

This remark made me cringe. As an intern at the Canadian HIV/AIDS Legal Network, I learned all about the myths surrounding HIV transmission and how these misconceptions negatively affect the lives of people living with HIV. Yet, I couldn’t blame her for saying that; I’m not sure my opinion three months ago would have been much more different from hers. It is scary to realize that we were four educated girls, but we had such a poor understanding of how HIV may be transmitted. And I wonder whether the law is not in fact perpetuating (if not strengthening) this misinformation and therefore this stigma and discrimination around HIV.

Indeed, the Supreme Court of Canada’s rulings on HIV non-disclosure fail to reflect actual scientific knowledge on the matter. Under Canadian law, HIV-positive individuals may be charged and convicted of aggravated sexual assault if they do not disclose their status to their sexual partner unless they use a condom and have a low viral load. This is in contradiction with scientific and medical evidence which establishes that the possibility of transmission is negligible, or even nil, when only one of these requirements is satisfied. With such a legal interpretation, people living with HIV end up being labeled as criminals even when their actions pose no realistic possibility of transmission.

So I wonder what makes us think there’s a risk. Science doesn’t seem to have much influence on popular beliefs. Every time I mention the current state of HIV-related science, people tell me that it doesn’t matter, they wouldn’t want to take the chance – ‘’it’s too risky’’, they say. On the other hand, they do believe that our highest court is right in criminalizing such sexual behaviours. So are we keener to believe the law over science?

And what exactly is our responsibility as individuals to protect ourselves? In a generation where casual sex is more frequent, is it ever realistic to expect our sexual partner(s) to reveal such an intimate part of their life? Do we have to expose our whole life story every time we take off our clothes, especially to individuals we may perhaps never see again? Those in favour of non-disclosure prosecutions argue that individuals ought to be fully informed before taking a decision on whether to accept or refuse sex. But it’s hard for me to see how this rationale for HIV criminalization could stand. Considering that the scientific consensus is that the risk of transmission is negligible or nil, I don’t think a ‘’right to know’’ is defensible. How far do we want to go about the vow of telling ‘’the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth’’? Such a vow may exist in courts and Hollywood movies, but it has no place in our bedrooms.

To be clear, I am not arguing that people should change their mind about having sex with HIV-positive partners on the basis that their fears are unfounded – absolutely not! No one should have to justify why they would or wouldn’t want to sleep with someone. But what I’m asking is: should it really be a crime not to disclose your status? Given that there is no realistic possibility of transmission, the answer seems obvious to me. Where there is no intention of transmission and where the HIV-positive partner had a low viral load or a condom was used, this sexual behaviour should not constitute a crime. As a society, we should give more weight to scientific facts in the establishment of our policies and laws. The four girls living in downtown Toronto, as most Canadians, respect and trust the authority of our judicial institutions and their rulings can have significant impacts. Therefore, our courts have a responsibility to ensure we do not discriminate against some groups in our society, including people living with HIV.

India and its 1971 Refugee “Problem”

“Do they know we are coming?”

In 1971, an estimated 10 million refugees crossed the border from East Pakistan into India (UNHCR 2000 59). The sheer magnitude of this movement of people – the largest single displacement of refugees in the second half of the 20th century (59) – is staggering. Writing from the town of Barasat, a city located in the outskirts of Calcutta, West Bengal, Sydney Schanberg, a journalist with the New York Times, describes the town as a “swarm” with refugees “so thick in the streets that cars can only inch through” (Schanberg 17 June 1971). The refugees seemed to be everywhere – sitting in the streets, crouching in doorsteps, sleeping on porches, occupying empty buildings, and cooking in the fields (Schanberg 17 June 1971). They attempted to build lean-tos only to have the monsoon rains rip them apart (Schanberg 17 June 1971). The refugees, Schanberg writes, appeared “anxious and troubled … look[ing] for someone to answer their questions … ‘Do they know we are coming?’” (Schanberg 17 June 1971).

Refugee Influx (Time Magazine)

Refugee Influx (Time Magazine)

After having “trodden long distances on foot in grim agony and in a desperate effort to escape from the ruthless atrocities of the Pakistan Army” (Luthra 1971 2467), to ask such a question seems out of place, even unnecessary. With its odd mix of apology, affirmation, and imposition, it is the question of a guest who is extended a welcome by the host and yet seems unsure as to the nature and extent of that welcome. Such an interaction reflects what Ranabir Samaddar describes as “the double imperative of how the State governs – a contradictory logic of power and care, and a paradoxical injunction built on the heritage of rule” (Samaddar 2010 113).

Like other mass influxes of populations that sought refuge in India – the Tibetan refugees who arrived in the 1950s and the Chakma refugees who arrived in 1964 (Chimni 1994 378) – the 1971 refugees were indeed welcomed. However, unlike the two previous mass influxes of refugees, the 1971 refugees were extended a limited welcome and were accorded hospitality “only until such time as they were able to go back to their country of permanent residence with dignity” (Mukherji(2) 1974 399). The policy for the 1971 refugees, as articulated by the Indian state, makes no mention of rehabilitation, integration, and absorption (399). Their existence in India was to be temporary and their status was to remain as foreign nationals (399). Their existence would ultimately prove to be temporary when, on December 15, the Pakistan army with 93,000 soldiers surrendered in Dacca (Jahan 1995 202). Following decisive military action led by the Indian army, the independent nation-state of Bangladesh was born (202). Just as the 1971 refugees made history with their arrival, so too did they set a record with their departure. Beginning in December of that year, millions of the refugees returned to a new homeland in what would be and remains the largest repatriation operation of the post-Second World War era (UNHCR 2010 59).

The story of the 1971 refugees – their exodus, reception, and eventual return – forms part of a wider narrative that brings to life the disintegration of one nation – Pakistan – and the birth of another – Bangladesh; the revival of historic grudges between two bitter neighbours – India and Pakistan; the international indifference manifested against a backdrop of Cold War politicking; and the miserable conditions that greeted the 10 million souls who sought refuge in India. The story that serves as the basis of this paper is that of the Indian state, namely the way in which its articulated policies on the 1971 refugees shaped, on the one hand, the state’s understanding of refugeehood and its response towards refugees, and, on the other hand, the refugees’ own understanding of this label and the implications the policies had on their sense of belonging and identity formation. Through an analysis of the decisions taken by the Indian state, the labels administered, and the bureaucratic institutions established, this paper explores the tension between the notion of charity and the notion of rights (Samaddar 2010 114) by asking: On what grounds did the Indian state justify repatriation as the only viable solution to the situation of the 1971 refugees? Since the answer to this question goes beyond the constraints of a blog post (and forms the basis of a paper that is forthcoming from CRG Policies and Practices) I outline one conceptual framework – the legal – to think through the state’s response.

The Legal Approach

Repatriation, along with resettlement and local integration, form the ‘three durable solutions’ to refugee problems as recognized by international law and supported by the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) (Bradley 2006 1).[1] To repatriate, in its most basic form, is to send the refugee or asylum seeker from their country of asylum back to their country of origin (1). The key principles underlying repatriation are the right to return (as codified in Article 13(2)[2] of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights) and the right not to be forcibly returned to situations of persecution or serious danger i.e. the right of non-refoulement (as codified in the negative terms of refoulement in the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees (“1951 Convention”))[3]. The solution of repatriation is thus premised on the country of asylum’s right to withdraw refugee status so long as it has determined that protection in the country of origin is viable (Hathaway 1997 551). Once withdrawn, the refugee becomes subject to the regular rules of immigration control and may be required to return to their state of origin (551). The challenge of situating the 1971 refugee influx and state response within the legal conceptual framework is that India is not a party to the 1951 Convention and its 1967 Protocol (Chimni 1994 379). Furthermore, India only acceded to the two Covenants on Civil and Political Rights and Economic, Social and Cultural Rights in 1979, several years following the return of the refugees to Bangladesh (379). The value of this conceptual framework therefore does not derive from what it tells us about India not signing these documents but rather the way in which this non-accession defined and configured the state’s responsibility (Samaddar 2010 115).

Indira Gandhi meeting a group of refugees from East Bengal at the Kaliganji camp, Assam, in June 1971 (Source: http://www.thehindu.com/multimedia/dynamic/00866/17TH-opedBanglaRumi_866425g.jpg)

Indira Gandhi meeting a group of refugees at the Kaliganji camp, Assam, in June 1971 (Source: http://www.thehindu.com/multimedia/dynamic/00866/17TH-opedBanglaRumi_866425g.jpg)

In a meeting with economic editors, Indira Gandhi described the solution to the refugee influx this way: “I am just going to send them back. I am determined to send them back” (Statesman 18 June 1971). This policy of “sending them back” served as a constant reminder that the refugees “belonged to Bangladesh … and were going back as soon as the situation returned to normal” (Rangan 29 December 1971). Had the policy not been this clear and forceful, members of the government feared that they would be giving the wrong impression, namely “that [the refugees] are going to be absorbed in this country” (Statesman 24 May 1971). The policy had two principal implications. First, it was used by the state to justify limiting the refugees’ access to the labour market, relegating the refugees to camps, and discouraging the dispersal of refugees from the Border States to other parts of India (Statesman 21 April 1971). Second, it was employed by the newly created Bangladesh government to encourage and foster feelings of patriotism for the new state. In his tour of the refugee camps, the Bangladesh Minister of Home and Rehabilitation urged the refugees to “not stay here as evacuees but go back and take part in the national reconstruction” (Statesman 31 December 1971). The policy of “sending them back” was realized in a surprisingly successful manner. Funded by the Indian state (Rangan 23 December 1971) and coordinated with international relief agencies and the administration of Bangladesh (Durdins 3 February 1972), over 6.8 million of the 10 million refugees returned within two months of the end of the conflict (Durdins 3 February 1972). Each family was given two weeks’ worth of rations that included rice, wheat-flour, lentils, charcoal, cooking oil, and a small cash allowance (Rangan 2 January 1972).

While the Indian state was not constrained by the international legal regime, refugee rights were recognized in practice, albeit in a limited sense. In an August speech, Indira Gandhi commented that repatriation would only occur if the “conditions for their (refugees) safe return were created” (Statesman 31 August 1971) and again in a September speech, where she articulated her vision of returning the refugees “in safety and dignity” (Rahman Volume 12 80). In the absence of any legal regime according to which the state response can be evaluated, phrases such as “safety and dignity” become highly malleable, even strategic tools to be employed by the state according to its own needs and demands. One editorial roots the responsibility of the state in the notion of humanity (Statesman 22 April 1971). However, to what extent does humanity guide state action? The editorial proposes one understanding of the term by focusing on housing, feeding, and clothing the refugees but arguing against the “dispersal to other States or arrangements for permanent rehabilitation” (Statesman 22 April 1971).

There emerge two principal limitations with this legal conceptual framework. First, the legal framework is unable to account for the situation of those refugees who feared a return to this so-called “home” (Rangan 23 December 1971). For some refugees, particularly the Hindu minority population, this fear stemmed from the threat of religious persecution whereas for others, a desperate economic situation in Bangladesh seemed discouraging (Toffler 5 August 1971). Pervading both the religious and economic concerns is a questioning of this notion of “home.” Toffler discusses repatriation with a group of refugees who respond to him this way: “‘Why should we go back?’ many replied.’ This is our country.’ To the Pakistani Hindu, India has always been Amar Desh – ‘my homeland’” (Toffler 5 august 1971). The state’s use of repatriation as the only solution is premised on the faulty assumption that “everyone wants to return … home,” a premise that the state did not assess since it appeared, “in the absence of other options, to be largely irrelevant” (Zieck 1997 447). Second, the legal framework is unable to evaluate the nature and extent of the voluntary dimension of the repatriation effort. Reports from the press describe the Indian state withholding rations and future transport to encourage the refugees to leave. According to Rangan, “although the refugees were not compelled to return they were not being given much choice either” (Rangan 8 January 1972).


Bradley, Megan. “FMO Research Guide: Return of Forced Migrants.” Forced Migration Online. 2006. http://www.forcedmigration.org/research-resources/expert-guides/return-of-forced-migrants/fmo042.pdf.

Chimni, B.S. “The Legal Condition of Refugees in India.” Journal of Refugee Studies, 1994.

Durdins, Tillman. “Bengalis in Dacca Coping with Problems.” The New York Times, 3 February 1972.

Hathaway, James C. “The Meaning of Repatriation.” International Journal of Refugee Law, 1997: 551-558.

Jahan, Rounaq. Pakistan: Failure in National Integration. University Press Limited, 1995.

Luthra, P. N. “Problem of Refugees from East Bengal.” Economic and Political Weekly, December 11, 1971: 2467-2472.

Mukherji, Partha N. “The Great Migration of 1971: II: Reception.” Economic and Political Weekly, March 9, 1974: 399-408.

Rahman, Hasan Hafizur, and Government of the People’s Republic of Bangladesh Ministry of Information. History of Bangladesh War of Independence Volume 12. Dhaka: Bangladesh Government Press, 1982.

Rangan, Kasturi. “Hindu Refugee Returns, Finds Ruins in East Pakistan.” The New York Times, 29 December 1971.

Rangan, Kasturi. “Refugees to be Returned.” The Statesman, 23 December 1971.

Rangan, Kasturi. “India Begins Returning Bengal Refugees.” The New York Times, 2 January 1972.

Rangan, Kasturi. “Return of Bengali Refugees is Gaining Momentume.” The New York Times, 8 January 1972.

Samaddar, Ranabir. “Refugees and Dynamics of Hospitality: The Indian Story.” In Immigration Worldwide Policies, Practices, and Trends, by Uma A Segal, Doreen Elliott and Nazneen S Mayadas. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010.

Schanberg, Sydney. “South Asia: The Approach of Tragedy.” The New York Times, 17 June 1971.

The Statesman. “Evacuees Will Not Be Pushed Back.” The Statesman, 31 August 1971.

The Statesman. “Refugee Dispersal in Big Way From Tomorrow.” The Statesman, 31 December 1971.

The Statesman. “214,000 Refugees Have Come to W. Bengal So Far.” The Statesman, 21 April 1971.

The Statesman. “Mrs. Gandhi Says… I am Determined to Send Them Back.” The Statesman, 18 June 1971.

The Statesman. “Evacuees Not To Be Sent To Other States – Khadilkar.” The Statesman , 24 May 1971.

The Statesman. “Editorial: Yet Another Exodus.” The Statesman , 22 April 1971.

Toffler, Alvin. “The Ravaged People of East Pakistan.” The New York Times, 5 August 1971.

UNHCR. “The State of The World’s Refugees 2000: Fifty Years of Humanitarian Action.” Geneva, 2000.

Zieck, Marjoleine. UNHCR and Voluntary Repatriation of Refugees: A Legal Analysis. Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 1997.

[1] For a legal analysis of UNHCR and the voluntary repatriation of refugees, consult Zieck (1997). For a critical perspective from the Global South on UNHCR and the voluntary repatriation of refugees, consult Chimni (2004).

[2] Article 13(2): “Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country” (United Nations 1948)

[3] Article 33: (Prohibition of Expulsion or Return) 1. No Contracting State shall expel or return (“refouler”) a refugee in any manner whatsoever to the frontiers of territories where his life or freedom would be threatened on account of his race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group or political opinion. 2. The benefit of the present provision may not, however, be claimed by a refugee whom there are reasonable grounds for regarding as a danger to the security of the country in which he is, or who, having been convicted by a final judgment of a particularly serious crime, constitutes a danger to the community of that country” (UNHCR 1951).

Cambodia in Context: Freedom of Assembly + Heavy Clashes Today

The first few months of 2014 were dark in terms of freedom of assembly in Cambodia. Hence, when I arrived for my internship, this was the main topic surrounding us. From January to today, we saw ongoing attempts by the authorities to silence dissenting opinions, often with violence. Today, we can see the somber results of this perpetual constriction of rights.

The issue mostly started with the elections, but culminated with the garment workers strikes. Following the 2013 national, the government promised to increase the minimum wage in the garment sector by 64 percent, from $61 to $95, a number yet under the demanded $160 per month to “stop surviving” [1], researches having confirmed that the current government offer of $100 per month is truly insufficient to satisfy basic needs of workers[2].

While there is a legally entrenched right to strike under the Constitution, on Thursday January 2nd, protesters clashed with soldiers from the Royal Cambodian Armed Forces’ elite 911 brigade. At least 15 people were injured while being beaten by sticks and rocks by the 911 brigade and 10 were arrested[3]. Their whereabouts were hidden for 5 days until it was confirmed by the government officials that they had been transported to Correctional Centre 3 CC3) located in a remote area in Kampong Cham province rather than CC1, the usual and closer detention center[4].

Furthermore, the day after the clashes, on January 3rd, 2014, protests continued and so did its violent repression. Security forces in fact used live ammunition against striking workers[5]. At least 4 civilians were shot dead, 38 were injured and a teenager, Khem Sophath, was last seen with bullet wounds before disappearing. He is still missing. 13 more men were arrested on this day[6]. These detainees together would form the 23 (I will speak of them in a further entry).

Then, on January 4, 2014, the Ministry of the Interior issued a media statement announcing a ban on all public gatherings and marches while also expulsing everyone from Freedom Park, the “Democracy Plaza”. The park was fenced with barbed wire.

This reduction of freedom of assembly also occurred the same day military forces were deployed at a number of points throughout the city and followed a statement issued by the Ministry of Defence, saying that it would protect at all costs the results of the July 2013 general elections and the government led by Prime Minister Hun Sen[7].

Arrest for gathering continued later in January and February as human rights defenders were often detained as they attempted to demonstrate. They were usually release the same day, signing forms promising that they would not take nor incite any actions prohibited by law, including demonstrations.

This did not stop the protests going on nonetheless. Other demonstrations in fact took place, calling for actions on many issues. The demonstrations were always faced with violent repression.

This ban of public gathering seemed to be a one-way policy however as the ruling party (CPP) still hosted a large public events and tolerated anti-CNRP gatherings[8].

The ban was abolished on February 25, 2014, by the ruling party, with Prime Minister Hun Sen warning of possible violence that could occur under gatherings[9]. Moreover, reference is still being made to the ban as if it was still in place, over its application and the right of freedom of assembly. Similarly, since February 25, protesters continued to face massive intimidation by security guards and police forces in place.

While I monitored some gatherings since my arrival with LICADHO, I must say that the continuous presence of police forces and security guards always increased the tension in place. Nonetheless, I was lucky enough to witness very few acts of violence. Today, however, the population tried to take back Freedom Park in a gathering organized by the opposition party and when security guards tried to repel the protesters, violence emerged like never before on the part of the population who took revenge on the authority after having endured repression for so long.

I invite you to watch this video by the Phnom Penh Post to get the details of it:


The question that remains is what will be the next step to this violence? If the protesters fight back and stop being non-violent, will the increasingly present security guards be equipped with more dangerous weapons and equipment? Will the security guards try themselves to avenge this event?

LICADHO has issued a statement today regarding what has happened (you can read it here: http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=348). As always, the organization is very critical of any form of violence, whether from the authority or the protesters. This kind of events can only lead to the escalation of conflicts.

[1] http://www.cambodiadaily.com/archives/amid-strikes-minister-raises-minimum-wage-to-100-49798/

[2] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=333

[4] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/reports/files/192LICADHOTimelineLethalViolence2014-English.pdf

[5] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=334 – http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=336

[6] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=336

[7] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/pressrelease.php?perm=335

[8] http://www.licadho-cambodia.org/reports/files/192LICADHOTimelineLethalViolence2014-English.pdf

[9] http://www.rfa.org/english/news/cambodia/warns-02252014163146.html

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