WTF Friday, 2/18/2012

Biggest merger since peanut butter and jelly? I think we all saw both these coming.

I’ve thought about this a lot so I’m glad someone decided to write about it.

I’ll leave you all with a (rare) happy ending this week. We got a tip from Kim Yi Dionne earlier today about Ralph Kasambara, a political prisoner in Malawi who was being held in what are terrifyingly called “condemned cells.” Deets are here. But, in the time from when we got the tip to now, “a Judge has issued a High Court Order for the immediate release of Ralph.” Now, let’s not forget to knock on wood, but this actually sounds like good news. Don’t get used to it…

The New York Times Reports on Slavery in Afghanistan, Actually Uses the S-Word.

The following is a guest post from Una Moore, who blogs for U.N. Dispatch.  Thanks Una!

Human rights abuses in Afghanistan are too often wrapped in euphemisms and exoticism. Think: “opium brides.” The term conjures images of dark-eyed women sensually smoking from opium pipes while sitting on silk cushions, but it actually refers to little girls who are handed over to drug lords (who subsequently rape, traffic and sometimes kill them) by their indigent families as “repayment” for poppy crop debts. Most international media outlets are guilty of using terms like “opium bride” for people who, were they not South/Central Asian, would simply, bluntly, accurately be called victims of human trafficking. Because that’s what they are.

Given the prevalence of this double standard, I was surprised today when I read the New York Times article ‘For Punishment of Elder’s Misdeeds, Afghan Girl Pays the Price.’ In describing one of the most violent and heinous violations of women’s human rights in Afghanistan today, the NYT calls the practice of “baad” what it actually is: the enslavement of young girls and women for purposes of sexual exploitation and manual labor. It even used the s-word!

Despite being denounced by the United Nations as a “harmful traditional practice,” baad is pervasive in rural southern and eastern Afghanistan, areas that are heavily Pashtun, according to human rights workers, women’s advocates and aid experts. Baad involves giving away a young woman, often a child, into slavery and forced marriage. It is largely hidden because the girls are given to compensate for “shameful” crimes like murder and adultery and acts forbidden by custom, like elopement, say elders and women’s rights advocates.

The article tells the story of Shakila, a 10-year-old girl who was taken, along with her young cousin, by a family of local thugs in her native Kunar as punishment for her uncle running away with the wife of a warlord. Tied up in a dark room, starved, kept filthy, and beaten for months, Shakila finally escaped and made her way back to her parents. Her abusers quickly chased after her, and her family was then left with no choice but to flee from their village to the provincial capital. When interviewed by the NYT, Shakila’s father explains that it wasn’t the fact that his daughter was thrown against walls and fed only water and bread for months on end that bothered him most, it was the fact that he’d already promised Shakila to someone else by the time she was taken.

We did not mind giving girls,” said her father, Gul Zareen. “But she was not mine to give.”

Men like those who abused Shakila continue to operate with impunity in areas where there is little government presence to speak of and where local people rely on tribal dispute resolution mechanisms, the article goes on to explain. If you’ve worked in Afghanistan, as I have, you’ve heard it all before: people don’t trust the government, the courts are corrupt, tribal customs are deeply rooted, and so on. And all of that is true, but the NYT article highlights something else, something that gets at the real reason there’s so little meaningful opposition to baad –the grim fact that many urban, pro-government Afghan men support baad and similar practices that destroy the lives of Afghan women.

Take, for example, these jaw-dropping quotes from a member of parliament from Nangarhar province, another hot spot for the enslavement and trafficking of women and girls.

“Giving baad has good and bad aspects,” said Fraidoon Mohmand, a member of Parliament from Nangarhar Province, who has led a number of jirgas. “The bad aspect is that you punish an innocent human for someone else’s wrongdoings, and the good aspect is that you rescue two families, two clans, from more bloodshed, death and misery.”

[...] “When you give a girl in baad, they are beaten maybe, maybe she will be in trouble for a year or two, but when she brings one or two babies into the world, everything will be forgotten and she will live as a normal member of the family,” he said.

Did you get that? Enslaving women and girls isn’t really so terrible, because the rapes and beatings ease up after a few years and a few forced pregnancies.

Let that sink in for a few minutes.

Book Review: All the Missing Souls

I recently read David Scheffer’s All the Missing Souls: A Personal History of the War Crimes Tribunals. It’s a fascinating memoir of life as the U.S.’s first ever Ambassador for War Crimes Issues. I highly recommend it if you’re into either detailed negotiating histories of international institutions or snarky observations about UN bureaucrats and French people.

Scheffer’s discussion of the Rwandan genocide and the creation of the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR) is particularly eye-opening, especially when compared to other former policymakers’ accounts of the same events. (Looking at you, Madeleine “it was complicated” Albright.) I suspect most readers will be drawn to the story of how the US and the UN bogged down in endless discussions of the meaning of the word “genocide” rather than reacting to the mass slaughter, but, being me, I found the blow-by-blow of the bargaining process between the new Rwandan regime and the international community over issues like the temporal jurisdiction of the ICTR and the possibility of the death penalty equally interesting. Not just because I love me some jurisdictional issues, but because when we talk about the impact of the tribunals, we’re generally comparing to the counterfactual of no accountability mechanism. Scheffer’s accounts of setting up the ad hoc tribunals, the hybrids, and the International Criminal Court (ICC) let us think about the courts we might have had instead.

Descending further into law-nerdery, in the section on the ICC, Scheffer advances a surprising interpretation of the applicability of the Rome Statute to nationals of non-party states. This is an issue Amanda and I touched on a couple of months ago with regard to the potential for an ICC investigation into recent attacks on civilians in Sudan, a non-party state. Scheffer suggests that Art. 11(2) and Art. 24 of the statute together preclude the jurisdiction over nationals of non-parties (except in the case of a Security Council referral) entirely.

For those who aren’t following along at home with a well-thumbed copy of the Rome Statute: Art. 11(2) says that if states join the court after the entry into force of the Rome Statute (on July 1, 2002), the court’s jurisdiction only reaches back to the date the state joined, and Art. 24 says that no person can be held responsible for crimes committed before the Statute’s entry into force. Reading these in combination, Scheffer argues that a blanket extension of the court’s jurisdiction to non-party nationals would pre-empt the effect of possible future ratifications. He explains that:

“[A] nonparty country … would have to accept the proposition that a future ratification of the Rome Statute would be meaningless because their nationals have been covered by the statute since July 1, 2002.”

Because this result would be absurd (although I actually think the more likely absurd result would be that a non-party state that commits an atrocity in 2012 would self-protectively ratify in 2013), Scheffer concludes that non-party state nationals must only be covered by the statute in cases where the state consents (under the Art. 12(3) special declaration procedure) or the Security Council refers the situation to the ICC.

I’m not sold on this interpretation. As Scheffer acknowledges, Art. 12 is clear that the court has jurisdiction over crimes when either the national state of the alleged perpetrators or the state where the alleged crimes occurred is a party to the Rome Statute. Scheffer’s reading would knock out the ability of a state party to request the ICC’s involvement in a case where a non-party state’s nationals commit atrocities on the state party’s territory, against their civilians. So, if Freedonia (a non-party state) sends raiding parties into neighboring Sylvania (a state party), and while there, Freedonia’s nationals commit mass rape against Sylvanian villagers, Sylvania couldn’t refer the case to the ICC. While I agree that this would make the court less controversial, especially for those non-party states that have widely deployed military forces (ahem, U.S.), it seems to me to be clearly against the intent of the statute, of which Art. 12 is an unambiguous expression.

Climbing back out of the law-nerdery pit, there’s also quite an interesting domestic politics angle here. The bits on the negotiation of the Rome Statute underscore both what a difficult job war crimes ambassadoring is, and how complicated the development of foreign policy can be in a democracy. Scheffer’s negotiating position at the talks was developed through coordination between the Departments of State, Justice, and Defense, each of which had different interests and concerns relating to the creation of an international court. Set against the backdrop of the Lewinsky scandal, with Jesse Helms in Congress vowing to torpedo the whole thing, the process of representing the Clinton administration’s position at Rome reads as a colossally discouraging experience.

On the every-cloud-has-a-silver-lining side of things, after several years in one of the world’s most frustrating jobs, minor irritations like this review by John Yoo probably barely register. But for those of us who make a career out of being annoyed, the scare quotes around “impunity” and “atrocity crimes,” coming from the man who gave us “Torture Memos” as a defined term, are not to be missed…

WTF Friday, 2/10/2012

Slum tourism, Dickensian style.

Big thanks to Jina for this tip. The implication here is pretty sickening. This is not what Valentine’s Day is for.

Egao, which roughly means using rude sarcasm to get certain messages across, has become part of the mainstream internet culture in China.” I certainly wouldn’t know anything about that.

 

WTF Friday, 2/3/2012

You think these demands are ridiculous? Have you seen this? On a different note, it’s good to see that Kim Jong-un has picked up where his father left off; looking at things.

Sometimes I really wonder about these big, international competitions…

Mr. Wade (and 475 lawyers and advisors) go to Washington.

WTF Friday, 1/27/12

In which I may have gotten tricked into believing something ridiculous. Thanks a lot, Globe. (via FP Passport)

Kutch just ridin the wave. Unlike earlier this month, I guess this one’s a “fun flood.”

The tournament more notorious for poor goalkeeping, administrative nightmares and tragedy rather than high quality football.” This is just not true. You gotta pick your burdens more carefully.

 

Sahar Gul Update: NYT Public Editor Responds, Agrees with Us

Today I got the following letter from Art “Truth Vigilante” Brisbane, the NYT’s public editor:

Thanks for your message about Graham Bowley’s coverage of Sahar Gul, the young Afghan girl. I am concerned about the girl’s privacy as well and have raised the question with the Foreign Desk. I do concur that news organizations should be careful to respect the privacy of crime victims. This is a case where, I believe, the benefits of doing a story were outweighed by the potential harm to the girl.
Best,
Art Brisbane
public editor

 So that’s nice.

WTF Friday, 1/18/2012

Charles Taylor’s story where he escapes from prison (with help from the US Government) by tying bed sheets together and climbing out of a window is all of a sudden gaining some credibility. Actually, this kind of thing is surprisingly common.

Oh, that’s rich. You know what’s also like colonialism? Colonialism.

I’m really looking forward to this.

 

 

In Which I Learn Something New: Immunities Edition

While reading the Sudan Tribune the other day (what, you don’t read it?) I came across the  statement, attributed to Sudan’s Justice Minister Mohamed Bushara Dousa, that “25% of people in Sudan have some form of immunity.”

This sounded beyond crazy, but Amanda and I did some asking around and discovered that, in fact, widespread immunity from criminal prosecution is a serious human rights issue in Sudan. While 25% of the population might be an overstatement, it appears that most government officials, including the entire security sector, enjoy functional immunity (also known as “act immunity”), which protects them from prosecution for crimes committed in the course of their official duties. This means that victims of torture by members of the police or armed forces have no legal recourse.

Obviously, this bums me out hard, but it also makes me wonder whether this is a common problem worldwide that I’ve somehow missed. So, internets, learn me a thing: Do these sorts of broad immunities exist in your countries / regions of expertise?

 

Immigration: More Like Love, or Cookies?

I have two blogging resolutions for this year.

The first is to write about immigration more often.  It’s an issue that matters hugely to me – as far as I’m concerned, it’s the trillion-dollar bill lying on the sidewalk, the thing that’s so obvious and so important that I sometimes can’t believe we’re even talking about other stuff first.  And also, conveniently, it’s something I actually know a bit about.  I got out of the habit of writing about it because I used to litigate immigration cases a lot more often, and out of an abundance of caution, (and, okay, an abundance of superstition, too), I felt that I shouldn’t write about issues that were part of active cases.  But now I’m older, and wiser, and spend less time on litigation, so there’s no reason to hold back.

The second resolution is to try to be more positive, at least occasionally.  I know, you come here for the snark – If you wanted earnestness, you’d be reading Invisible Children’s blog instead.  But a casual reader of this blog could easily get the impression that the only things in life I enjoy are Glenna Gordon’s photographs and making New York Times reporters cry, which is perhaps a bit narrow, as public personas go.  And I have a vague theory that if I spring a surprise positivity attack on people who disagree with me, maybe they’ll be so shocked that they let their guards down, leaving them vulnerable to my winning logic.  Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

So, for today’s post, I thought I’d try to kill both birds with one stone.  Namely, I’m going to write about immigration, and I’m going to do it in a positive way! Maybe! I will try! But this is already quite painful!

Ow.

Anyway, to circle back to the by-now-quite-confusing title: I’ve noticed, in talking to people about immigration, that there is a significant discrepancy between the way immigration proponents and immigration skeptics think about sharing a country.  Immigration skeptics tend to think that sharing a country is like sharing a cookie.  Every time you share it with someone, everyone else has a little less, including you.  Immigration proponents, on the other hand, think that sharing a cookie is like sharing love – the more you give, the more you have.  Or, the more immigrants we allow to join our country, the more awesome country there is for everyone to enjoy.  (And with better food.)

In case there’s any doubt, I’m on Team Love.  Not only do I think that immigration is the right thing to do for altruistic reasons – such as enabling people to escape persecution, or poverty, or cultural norms that crush human potential into a crumpled ball and give it to the cat to play with – but also because it makes rich countries better.  People are productive assets.  If you allow them to live in an environment that maximizes their potential, they will do amazing things.  And when someone else goes to the trouble of founding Google, we’re all better off.

I do understand where Team Cookie is coming from, though.  Immigration means change, and change is scary.  And there are some resources – like admission to a fancy college, for instance – that are limited.  The more immigrants there are applying, the harder it will be for your kids to get in.  At a macro level, that’s not a bad thing.  It’s pretty awesome for America that the smartest young people in the world are willing to not only come here, but pay our universities six-figure sums of money in order to do so.  But if your son has slaved his way through school, only to be fobbed off with admission to UCLA instead of Berkeley, it stings a little.

But I don’t think that’s really the problem.  People can get over having to go to UCLA.  I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to a person who was anti-immigration because of an encounter with a specific immigrant they couldn’t compete with. That’s because in this culture, we respect competition when we’re actually faced with it – when was the last time you heard someone complain that Yao Ming was doing a job that should have gone to an American?  (Or, presumably, several Americans stacked on top of one another.)

The welfare state is another commonly-mentioned cookie: if we allow immigrants to come here, won’t they just swamp our public services?  Personally, I find the premise of this argument extremely unconvincing – immigrants expand the population and the tax base, and create jobs, bolstering our economy’s ability to fund a social safety net. (Undocumented immigrants already subsidize social security to the tune of billions of dollars.)

But, perhaps more importantly, whether or not to allow immigrants to come to this country, and whether or not to allow them free access to the welfare state, are separate questions.  (If you look closely, you will see that they are made up of not-same sets of words! Really!)   If the burden on the welfare state is the real issue, there are a variety of orderly and reasonable solutions to that problem. Off the top of my head, for instance, we could deny immigrants eligibility for most social welfare programs until they become citizens (we already do this, btw), and/or have immigrants, or groups of sponsors, post a bond to cover the cost of the services our culture finds it illegitimate to deny, such as emergency-room care.  Or, to put it more simply, if this is a money problem, why don’t we try solving it with money before we try solving it by shooting ourselves in the pockets?

So what is Team Love to do to convince Team Cookie?  Would they, if presented with sufficient quantities of research and logic and heart-wrenching photos of the children who could be saved by allowing them access to opportunity, change their minds?

Or is the real problem something else? Something that is hard to describe, because the English language has no word for “nostalgia for a lost future in which progress would just solve one’s own problems, not other people’s”?