Archive for Europe and Central Asia

A State’s Responsibility in an Epidemic: Human Rights and the Coronavirus Outbreak

Guest Contributors Bodhisattwa Majumder and Devashish Giri are penultimate year students at Maharashtra Law University Mumbai. Their interests include Constitutional Law, Public International law and Maritime law. Any discussion related to the paper can be made via mail at bodhisattwa@mnlumumbai.edu.in or Giridevashish15@gmail.com

The outbreak of Coronavirus or COVID-19 (“Coronavirus”) from Wuhan, China (“People’s Republic of China “) has engulfed as many as twenty four countries across the globe with a medical emergency and has claimed more than 3,800 lives as of now. 

This strain of the virus is graver than the other types of Coronaviruses as it has never been identified in humans before. Coronavirus belongs to the zoonotic group of viruses which can affect a human being with a range of health ailments ranging from the common cold to serious problems such as Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS-CoV) and Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS-CoV). The World Health Organization and other countries including the US have declared it as a “Global Public Health Emergency”.  In order to restrict the transmission of the virus, however, China has taken various restrictive measures which have caused serious human rights violations including but not limited to arbitrary censorships, lockdowns, quarantines, police suppression, and mass detentions.

In outbreaks of viruses with communicable properties, response time in communicating information and alerting the public and world about the dangers of the virus is of the essence. Even a delay of a month can have a huge impact; in the absence of proper information, crowded public places act as the hub for transmission. 

Early on in the outbreak of Coronavirus, citizens of China were deprived of their freedom of expression and free speech. The Wuhan province was under strict observation by the Chinese government, and any information related to the outbreak was termed as mere “rumours” and prohibited from being shared across any social media platform. There were numerous reported instances of police suppression when doctors, nurses and other associated personnel working in the frontlines faced strict penal measures by the police on grounds of spreading the information related to the virus.

 It was only due to a brave whistleblower, Chinese Dr. Li Wenliang, who risked his own safety and livelihood to spread news of the outbreak in Wuhan to his alumni peers via WeChat, that the world was able to learn about this dangerous phenomenon that China had tried to keep under wraps. He sent his message on December 30, and China alerted the World Health Organization (WHO) about its outbreak on December 31. Since January 1, researchers have learned that China has been censoring WeChat accounts for words related to the Cornonavirus, blocking certain combinations or anything negative towards President Xi Jinping.  Furthermore, China placed the entire affected province under lockdown without any prior notice, which deprived the residents any chance to ensure the availability of basic amenities of life such as food and medicine. Such a measure has affected vulnerable populations of society, including those with disabilities, illness, and the elderly and deprived them of their essential needs. These are direct violations to their right to health. There has been a mass-quarantine process of millions of people for the cause of limiting the spread from the city of Wuhan. Any offering measure by any section of society be it, Lawyers, Activists or Artists, has been prohibited, censored, threatened and harassed by the organs of the government. Despite having strict regulations against discrimination regarding communicable diseases, the machinery has apparently failed.

Coronavirus has not limited itself to Chinese province and other South-East Asian states have been affected, although not every state has adopted measures which violate human rights. Amidst the Chaos, the approach of Singapore has been a silver lining, which has won praises for its benevolence and informative approach rather than an authoritarian one. Singapore’s approach has been direct and effective to reduce panic, rumours and conspiracy theories, aligning itself correctly with the statement of the Prime Minister which was posted on social media in three languages, “Fear can do more harm than the virus itself. The speech alone was proven effective as the following weekend witnessed a reduction in crowds in the city-state. The Singaporean approach included prevention, contact tracing, quarantine and access to information. Singapore’s official website of the Ministry of Communications and Information provided useful and practical advisories on topics such as ‘When to See a Doctor’, ‘What happens to suspect cases’ and ‘How to practice good personal hygiene’. The approach of Singapore prioritized the welfare and safety of citizens over political stability and economic costs, which won praise across the world. Singapore was among the most affected regions of Asia (Orange alert). Still, it chose to inform its citizens rather than bury the situation. The constant live news coverage, transparency about developments, and inclusion of health workers in planning has proved to be effective in controlling the situation and reducing  panic among citizens. 

Public International Law dictates that regardless of a health emergency or an epidemic, the measures taken to affect human rights should be legal, necessary, reasonable and proportional. Every measure must be recorded in evidence and there should be strict adherence to the procedure prescribed. An undemocratic regime leaves no scope for a consequence to the state for failures in terms of epidemic response and as a result, there is no accountability from the state. The people residing in affected areas are shunned out without any scope for the expression of dissent or discontent or even a cry for help from the international community. Human rights cannot be allowed to be violated under the garb of a health emergency and every nation should take a lesson from the incident of the Coronavirus outbreak. The priority of taking measures to restrict the outbreak lies in equal pedestal with the significance of following due process without depriving the people of their human rights. The international community needs to take a stand, and every response from a government during the outbreak of an epidemic or a pandemic must be within the four corners of human rights.

A Fresh Start in EU Migration Policy: Re-examining the Dublin Regulation

Guest Contributor Ali Cain is an M.A. Candidate in the European History, Politics and Society Program at Columbia University. She is additionally the Program Coordinator for the Cardozo Law Institute in Holocaust and Human Rights (CLIHHR). Her research interests include populism, refugee rights and transatlantic relations.

During her 2019 candidacy for European Commission President, Ursula von der Leyen proposed a New Pact on Migration and Asylum to “relaunch the Dublin reform of asylum rules.” Ms. von der Leyen is correct: Europe’s asylum system needs a fresh start. The Dublin Regulation III mandates that asylum seekers register upon arrival in the first European Union (EU) member state he or she enters. At the refugee crisis’ peak in 2015, 1.3 million asylum seekers and migrants arrived in Europe. Many traveled through the Mediterranean Sea, designating Italy and Greece as first ports of entry and, therefore, responsible for processing asylum claims. The influx of asylum seekers has led to immense strains on local governments, inciting animosity against refugees and creating a significant backlog of asylum decisions. 

According to Politico, there is a backlog of 90,000 asylum cases in Greece alone. The Greek government recently released a plan to create a “floating wall” to block migration routes on the Aegean Sea and will soon begin construction of closed detention centers that will limit the movement of asylum seekers. At a press conference on February 27, the Greek Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis explicitly told those who do not qualify for international protection to “not come to Greece”, and warned that they will remain stuck on the islands until they are returned home. Although Greece’s treatment of refugees is appalling, their actions and rhetoric towards refugees demonstrates the depths of desperation which border states are being driven to due to EU inaction. To complicate issues further, the EU received its highest numbers of asylum applications since 2015; the European Asylum Support Office reported that 714,2000 applications were received in 2019. Future migration crises are inevitable, especially given climate change as an increasingly central driver of forced displacement. Commission President von der Leyen must prioritize the reform of the Dublin Regulation to create a cohesive asylum process in Europe. 

The Dublin Convention was created in 1997 in response to the Schengen Zone’s development. Under the Convention and its succeeding regulations, geographic arrival points determine state responsibility for refugees. The number of refugees already present in a state are not taken into consideration when determining relocation destinations or places of stay during the processing of asylum applications. Although the Dublin Framework includes rights for refugees that are already solidified under international law, including family unification and speedy asylum decisions, those rights are not enforced equally among EU member states. Following the 2015 refugee crisis, the EU began to discuss reforming the Dublin system to include burden-sharing measures and increased human rights protections. The European Commission proposed a reallocation quota determined by each country’s population and gross domestic product (GDP). The European Parliament suggested amendments to the Commission’s proposal also to include family reunification and prior residence/study in relocation decisions. The European Council must decide whether to implement burden-sharing provisions, but has been divided on the best way to actually relocate refugees since December 2018. The Visegrád countries – Hungary, Poland, the Czech Republic and Slovakia – have refused to accept refugees or abide by quotas.

As a result of Council gridlock, member states have relied heavily on third-party agreements to curb migration. These agreements have been successful in achieving the EU’s overall goal of curbing migration but pose threats to human rights and are not sustainable in the long-term. Although the EU’s 2016 deal with Turkey led to a 97% decrease in migration from Turkey to Greece, 3RP reported that over 64% of the 3.6 million refugees living in Turkey are living in poverty. Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan announced plans for the “voluntary” resettlement of refugees in a “peace zone” in Northern Syria. Pushing refugees to return to Syria would violate non-refoulement standards under international law, which mandates that a host country cannot return asylum seekers to a country where they would be in danger or would be persecuted. Furthermore, President Erdogan announced on February 27, 2020 that Turkish authorities will not prohibit Syrian refugees from leaving Turkey to go to Europe, as Turkey is facing an influx of Syrian refugees from Idlib due to recent attacks by the Assad government and Russia. This recent announcement demonstrates the precise issue with third-party agreements: they provide short term reprive for host countries but kick the can of dealing with refugees down the road at refugees’ expense.  

The EU-Turkey deal also has implications for those already in Europe. For example, thousands of refugees are stranded on the Greek island of Lesbos as the EU-Turkey agreement prohibits their arrival on mainland Greece. Most recently, protests against inhumane living conditions broke out at the Moria refugee camp, where 20,000 refugees are cramped into facilities built to house 3,000 individuals. These conditions, which are common in many refugee camps throughout Europe, infringe on basic human rights secured under international conventions, including the 1951 Refugee Convention.  The EU’s 2015 Emergency Trust Fund for Africa has decreased economic factors that encourage migration from Africa by providing over 50,000 jobs and improving living standards. However, as explained in a recent Oxfam report, European investment in specific countries and regions is tied to migration levels stemming from each origin country. Addressing underlying societal issues like poverty and inequality, and political issues like corruption is not tied to aid. The EU also increasingly has depended upon the Libyan Coast Guard for search and rescue (SAR) missions, which intercept boats and return passengers to Libya. Those sent back to Libya face torture and trafficking in detention centers run by both the government and militias. Forced returns to Libya also violates the principle of non-refoulement.

A report released by the European Council on Foreign Relations argues that member states may now be more open to asylum relocations and burden sharing. In July 2019, fourteen states signed a solidarity mechanism, pledging to relocate migrants across the EU. In September 2019, Italy’s staunchly anti-migrant interior minister Matteo Salvini was recently replaced by migration specialist Luciana Lamorgese in September 2019. Italy’s migration policies have already begun to change as private charity’s boats can now dock at Italian ports. Additionally, a recent European Council on Foreign Relations survey found that a majority of EU citizens no longer see migration as the most pressing issue of concern. Instead, survey respondents reported “health, housing unemployment, and living costs as standout issues.” Although it is easy to get caught up in the pessimism of current EU affairs, all European countries can agree that the current system under the Dublin Regulation is not working. A November 2019 EU Council Presidency report acknowledges the importance of the EU speaking in one voice about migration and concludes that “the more members states have the perception that EU legislation is meeting their concrete needs and taking into account their administrative realities, the more likely it is that the implementation will be successful.” The new Commission’s expressed interest in reforming the CEAS and the designation of €949 million ($1,039,120,000) to the EU’s Asylum, Migration and Integration Fund presents an opportunity for reform. The EU has also pledged 30.8 billion ($41,608,700,000) for immigration and border control issues in the 2021-2027 budget.  Furthermore, the conclusion of Brexit provides a pivotal moment for the remaining 27 member states to reestablish the EU’s joint efforts and cohesiveness.

Migration is one of the most complicated and emotionally-driven issues to nation-states, as it heightens various concerns regarding economic and cultural security. The EU’s current approach in relying on third-party agreements, increasing general border control, and remaining gridlocked over how to better distribute refugees throughout Europe is a significant problem. Border states, especially Greece, and larger financially stable states like Germany, cannot be solely responsible for asylum seekers. The European Commission must push states to reopen discussions and negotiations on reforming the Dublin Regulation.

The Lost World of Moldova: Corruption and Human Rights

Guest Contributor: Ararat Osipian is the Alexander Mirtchev Visiting Professor and Scholar at the Terrorism, Transnational Crime and Corruption Center, Schar School of Policy and Government, George Mason University, Fellow of the Institute of International Education, and Fellow of the New University in Exile Consortium, USA. His research interests include corruption, inequalities in access to education, and sexual harassment.

Recent events in Moldova, including the political turmoil and the fight against corruption, sometimes become reminiscent of a witch-hunt. For Moldova, the story is not so new, as the pro-European Union Moldovan Parliament has been fighting pro-Russian President Igor Dodon for years. For the world, this is just a storm in a teacup. According to the locals, Moldova’s fight against corruption is mostly for resources and economic assets that may be accessed through the use of state power. Some of the formative results of such a fight are arrests on charges of corruption. Due to the anti-corruption campaign, some individuals prefer to leave the country. Vladimir Plahotniuc, a self-exiled Moldovan politician, businessman, philanthropist, and allegedly richest man in the country, reportedly landed in Miami.

A land-locked country of less than three million, Moldova looks like a lost world. Although the dissolution of the Soviet Union took place three decades ago, most scenery in Moldova is grey Soviet concrete. Despite the visual sleepiness, the country has significant internal political divisions, including the breakaway province of Transnistria. Moldova is the poorest country in Europe and a significant part of the national income comes from money remittances from abroad. Moldovans work in Russia and the European Union countries. While President Dodon has a pro-Russian attitude, the ruling party is oriented toward the EU. As a result, Moldova is akin to Buridan’s ass, stacked between the EU and Russia. Some citizens want to have closer ties with the EU or even be absorbed by Romania, while others prefer good relations with Russia. Such preferences largely depend on where people earn their living as day laborers: in the EU or in Russia.

Central square in Chiasnu, location of mass protests against increasing the President’s power through Constitutional reform.

Moldovans seem to believe that they should take part in political life of the country, yet are not sure that they will have any real impact on the way things are done. For instance, on June 11, 2017, I observed mass protests on the central square in Chisinau. Primarily, the protests were focused on a suggested constitutional reform that would give the President more power. Supporters of the change say having legislators represent particular constituencies would enhance the link between parliament and voters. Opponents say it is an attempt to skew the electoral system in favor of the ruling political party. 

Protesters moved as a procession to the front of the Parliament, totaling around three to five thousand. There were plenty of Moldovian flags and not much else in terms of posters and other visual materials. In general, protesters were very peaceful, chanting slogans such as “we will not surrender!” and blowing vuvuzelas, horns commonly used in soccer games by fans. Around two hundred police security forces maintained law and order by…. Before the leaders of the protest made speeches, there was a concert on the stairs of the Parliament. Overall, the whole event was very classically Soviet in style. 

Moldova’s political divide finds its reflection in public spaces throughout Chisinau, including in the form of graffiti, inscriptions and signs. Moldova’s Union with Romania is the most popular theme of such inscriptions. Moldova borders Romania, the EU member, while both countries speak Romanian language and many Moldovans hold Romanian citizenship in addition to their Moldavian citizenship. As a consequence, the President has recently introduced a suggestion to outlaw any advertisements of Unionism in an attempt to curb protesters’ access to public space to convey their complaints. In addition to walls, the giant stairs near the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) headquarters that lead to Valea Morilor Park are also used for political inscriptions. One such inscription reads in English, “#Save Donbass from Ukraine’s Army”, a reminder of the on-going hybrid war in neighboring country Ukraine. On the opposite side of the stairs, the inscription reads “Basarabia Romaneasca”.

Similar to other former socialist countries, Moldova has corruption aplenty. The situation with corruption in Moldova is rather dynamic. Upon my arrival in the country, the Mayor of Chisinau, Dorin Chirtoaca, was under house arrest and the ex-deputy prosecutor general was arrested as well, both on charges of corruption. These were not isolated incidences. While I was in Chisinau, the former Deputy Minister of the Interior and the judge of Chisinau city court were both arrested on charges of corruption. The arrests that took place while I was in the country were only the latest of many in a wave of anti-corruption arrests that rolled through the country in Spring of 2017. Prior to 2017, Moldova’s Vice- Minister of Economy and Minister of Agriculture and Food Industry were also arrested on corruption-related charges. The education sector, too, has been touched by the Moldavian government’s war against corruption. The list of educational administrators arrested in the case of falsified tenders on kindergarten meals includes daughter and son-in-law of advisor to the Minister of Education.

It is surprising that despite the government’s declaratory “war against corruption,” there are only a handful of scholarly works on corruption in Moldova. In fact, the National Library has only three sources on corruption in Moldova available in Russian language. One is a monograph on corruption and organized crime. Another source is a journal article. Finally, there is a collection of conference reports on academic corruption, published a decade ago. This collection comprises twenty-nine scholarly articles. Of these articles, sixteen are in Russian, twelve are in Romanian, and one is in English. The first and second articles in the collection are authored by the President of the Supreme Court of Justice and the Minister of the Interior, respectively. This is done in best Soviet traditions. Other authors include the ex-Minister of Justice and the acting rector of the Ismail Institute of Water Transport. It is clear that the authors of the papers published in this collection recognize that education in Moldova is one of the sectors most affected by corruption, and discuss it. Unfortunately, an anti-corruption campaign in Moldavian academia is not on the top of the government’s political agenda and “war against corruption”.

My findings from my fieldwork conducted in Moldova allow for some initial generalizations. My fieldwork in Moldova in June 2017 was essentially a small pilot project, ethnographic in its nature, aimed at getting to know the social environment in the country. This study employed several methods to investigate higher education corruption in Moldova. These included archival research, media sources, review of the scholarly literature, informal conversations with students, former students, faculty, simple empirical observations, and, of course, listening to other people’s conversations. I kept a diary and took notes.

 The respondents clearly understand the harm of academic corruption. The overall position of the respondents is that there is plenty of corruption in Moldova’s higher education institutions, including Moldova State University. This corruption often takes the form of bribery, embezzlement, fraud, and student absenteeism. The Student Alliance Against Corruption at Moldova State University is a manifestation of student activism, an attempt to exercise the power of collective action against corruption. But catching a corrupt faculty member may actually result in nothing. Similar to most countries, Moldova exercises presumption of innocence: not guilty until proven in court and sentenced. Even if a faculty member is caught red-handed while accepting a bribe, they will not lose their job until sentenced in court. However, such a case is not likely to even reach the court, as they are usually destroyed in the process of investigation because of corruption. In my research, it was evident that faculty members have some ideas about ethical conduct, or at least they know the term itself. However, for many, adherence to a personal ethical standard is threatened by the external pressures many faculty members face. For instance, a faculty member in the cafeteria at Moldova State University explained to me that she has ethical standards and is a law-abiding citizen, but there is pressure on her.

In addition to corruption in academia, there are clear disciplinary issues. I observed one such incident in front of the main entrance to the central administrative building. A faculty member—male, in his late 30s—asked a male student accompanied by his two friends to stop smoking. Smoking on campus is allowed only in designated areas. In response, the students told him to “go his own way,” which resulted in a verbal altercation. The faculty member reminded the students:  “By the way, the fine is 1200 lei” (equivalent to 60 Euros). This is equal to half of the average monthly salary in Moldova, so although with good intentions its is likely that he simply made up the sum on the fly. The student responded with “Call the cops” and refused to name himself. The faculty member threatened to find out the student’s identity by seeing the student during an examination. The student simply ignored him and remarked with irony “Yeah, you got me.” 

The student’s response to an authority figure is typical of the Soviet mentality of ignoring the rules, popularly formulated as “beat the state.” There are “No smoking” posters on campus, but students sometimes smoke right in front of them. Despite the ban on smoking inside the buildings, male restrooms are filled with cigarette butts. Since there are very few students, they are not afraid of the faculty and administrators. State funding is tied to the number of students, and thus the university needs students more than students need the university. This is a typical situation in the entire former Soviet bloc.

Hotel Chiasnu

Moldova State University is located on a small Soviet campus, although well-maintained. The main university building is partially renovated, but still far from ideal. There are large advertisement posters both inside and outside campus buildings, with job opportunities in marketing and sales, discounts on mobile phones, the sale of mountain bikes, etc. Some student dormitories are renovated as well, but most have not seen any repair since the Soviet era. The state of decay, so visible in the city’s architecture, has its impact on the academic community too. One example of such an impact was the need to change the hotel for a visiting professor from France. They initially booked Hotel Chisinau, located in downtown, for this visiting professor. However, due to the eerie looking surroundings and especially unsafe underground passage under the United Nations Square, they had to place her in another hotel. Next to the hotel is the National Academy of Sciences of Moldova. Across the street is Hotel National, now an abandoned concrete ghost. Formerly Hotel Inturist, built during the Soviet era to serve foreign tourists, this hotel no longer houses anyone.

With only 11,000 visitors a year, Moldova is the least visited country in Europe. The lost world, indeed. To be precise, the abandoned hotel in the center of the capital is not exactly empty. The hotel does not house anyone legally, as there are no guests or foreign tourists. There are, however, dozens of homeless children living within these bare concrete walls. They beg and steal on the streets during the day, and come to the ghost hotel at night. There are also drug addicts sharing the quarters with homeless children. Immoral behavior and sexual abuse of minors a wide possibility. On one occasion, three underage children were hospitalized in critical condition to a local clinic with poisoning-like symptoms, most likely due to inhaling glue. This is the cheapest and easiest way to get “high.” The state authorities are unable and unwilling to cope with the crisis due to extremely high levels of corruption. Instead of protecting human rights of minors, they find ways to close remaining orphanages and supply the street and criminal gangs with more homeless children.

As Spanish Government Turns a New Page, a Chance to Lead EU on Migration

As Spanish Government Turns a New Page, a Chance to Lead EU on Migration

Pedro Sanchez is the new Prime Minister of Spain after a stunning no-confidence vote. The refugee crisis deepens. The people want reform. Spain’s potential as a future EU trailblazer on migration policy rests in his hands.

By Madison Chapman

Street art depicting refugees at La Tabacalera in Embajadores, another diverse and artistic migrant neighborhood in Madrid adjacent to Lavapiés. Photo: Madison Chapman

Part I

 Madrid, Spain—Ndiogou spends the hottest part of the day—when many Spanish people take a siesta— with a group of fellow Senegalese men near the main plaza of Lavapiés, a lively migrant neighborhood in Madrid. When I met him one humid March afternoon, he was eager to chat, casually leaning on the wall of one of many nearby Lycra Mobile shops. Surrounded by the slight waft of tapas, it is hard to imagine that Ndiogou has had a tough life in Spain. Yet he spent his first decade in the country unable to obtain official paperwork—and with it, public assistance. His lack of work authorization forced him to live on a street in Lavapiés, where he both slept and slowly learned Spanish from passerby. He cracked a weary grin as he shared his integration experience, noting that not much had changed. But he continued to hold out hope that it would soon.

Since March, Spain has indeed changed. On June 2, Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez of the opposition Spanish Socialist Worker’s Party (PSOE) was sworn in after a no-confidence vote ousted Partido Popular (PP) Prime Minister Mariano Rajoy in May. Soon thereafter, Madrid accepted a migrant boat off the coast of Valencia, filled with 629 people from mainly Sub-Saharan Africa, after Italy turned the vessel away. The move attracted global attention and was cheered as a long-awaited political shift, given the previous dismal migrant intake in Spain—despite domestic public support for increased refugee assistance. Yet to make sustained progress toward a more inclusive migration policy, Sanchez has work ahead of him. Reforming the broken Spanish migration system will require not only additional refugee intake but the overhaul of a backlogged and inefficient asylum solicitation system—known as the acogida system. Just as Spain must no longer sideline migration policy, it must also create a more efficient platform for dignified asylum assistance, with broad civil society support.

Ndiogou is a migrant from Senegal who arrived in Spain over a decade ago. For the majority of that time, he lived on the street in Lavapiés as he attempted to secure work authorization and access to public benefits. Photo: Madison Chapman

Ndiogou is not alone, and his journey is significant as Spain grows as a hub for asylum-seeking migrants from Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East. Yet the historical relationship between Spain and the rest of the EU on migration has been a fraught one. In 2015, former PM Rajoy called for an EU-wide approach to migration, stating that “Spain will not refuse the right to asylum to those entitled to it.” Yet he refused to commit to accepting more than 2,739 refugees or expand this quota, which was already far below that of Germany and France, without additional funding from the EU. As a result, Rajoy faced swift public pressure and criticism from the Spanish Catholic Church. Some have associated Rajoy’s hesitant border policy with fear of overwhelming public services and a slowly recovering economy after a harsh period of austerity and the most severe economic crisis in Spanish history.

Who Comes, Who Stays—Migration Politics

Graphs representing asylum applications received by Spain, with data from the Spanish Refugee Commission. Asylum applications have increased significantly in the last two years, especially from Venezuelans. Graph: A. Hernandez, El Mundo Gráficos

Within the first six months of 2016, Spain had only accepted 18 refugees—primarily from Eritrea—though it pledged to integrate over 16,000 in September of the same year. According to the Spanish Refugee Commission (CEAR), migration to Spain then skyrocketed to a historic high of 15,755 petitions for asylum at the end of 2016, primarily from Venezuelans, Ukrainians, Syrians, and Algerians. This number created an all-time record for Spain, up 874 from 2015. Yet this still constituted only 1% of total people who requested refugee assistance in the EU. The International Organization for Migration (IOM) notes that between January and August of 2017, over 11,000 migrants attempted to enter Spain by sea– a number it forecasted would grow and eventually surpass even migration to Greece. In addition, the number of attempted coastal arrivals to Spain tripled in 2016, resulting in over 3,000 attempted arrivals and over 50 deaths. The sudden and extreme influx of migrants to Spain by sea left the Rajoy government reeling, unable to effectively respond to new arrivals. Migration to Spain increased from Venezuela and Central America, though only six refugees from Venezuela were accepted between 2012 and 2016—leading popular Spanish newspaper El País to boldly claim that “Spain Does Not Want Venezuelan Refugees.” Meanwhile, Spain began to detain more migrants in North Africa, as migrant men attempted to cross the imposing barbed-wire fence between Morocco and the North African Spanish city of Melilla, a Spanish enclave. With increased arrivals to North Africa came tent cities outside of Melilla and Ceuta, a clamp down on access to ports of entry, and human rights violations that invited widespread international criticism. The urgency of migration reform has arguably never been more palpable and intense.

Why Does Spain Matter? Spain’s Acogida Challenge

 Spain enjoys a strategic location straddling Europe and Africa, which has also posed a unique challenge to its asylum intake and evaluation system. Though more individuals were granted some form of protection in Spain in 2016 than ever before, very few were granted refugee status. Of the 6,855 people who were permitted to stay, only 355 (or 3.4%) received refugee status and 6,500 were given subsidiary protection.. Though migrants seek asylum from other concerning conflicts, political pressure has impacted who stays and who is denied asylum in Spain. The growing rejection of people from Venezuela, who continue to constitute the greatest individual group of those seeking asylum in Spain, is compounded by this issue. Of 12,818 applications pending at the close of 2017, only 16 were granted refugee status and 98.9% rejected.

Sufian is an economic migrant from Bangladesh. He has praised the services available to him as an economic migrant, including language classes and health services. His primary concern is that within Lavapiés, people do not need to learn about Spanish culture or vice versa, because there are so many migrants. But he noted that when he leaves the barrio, or neighborhood, there is somewhat less understanding. Photo: Madison Chapman

The central issues facing the Spanish acogida system are wait times and restrictions on work permits and public assistance that migrants face upon arrival. While municipal governments have taken a more flexible approach to migration, with Madrid even hanging a banner emblazoned with “Refugees Welcome” over the landmark Palacio de Cibeles, the central government has taken a stricter stance. In total, the asylum application process may take up to 3 years. First, an individual submits an asylum application, which may be accepted or denied at the end of an often backlogged, months-long waiting process. During this time, the state does not provide holistic public services or benefits to migrants. In fact, according to William, a staff member at ONG Rescate, “the state does what it can with the acogidas… but then leaves the [rest] to NGOs so that it complies” with international obligations. If the asylum application is accepted, a temporary acogida phase begins, in which some government support arrives. Yet many migrants seek the assistance of municipal governments or civil society, which manage the majority of asylum centers in Spain. Amongst the most active in Spain are Caritas, Accem, CEAR, ONG Rescate, the Spanish Red Cross, and UNHCR, as well as a variety of faith-based organizations such as Protestant Social Action. As told by Juan, a food artisan from Madrid, “madrileños [people from Madrid] are very conscious and want to help… [but] everything is politics with the acogidas, [and] refugees don’t vote so politicians just don’t care.”

Organizations like ONG Rescate and CEAR provide temporary housing, legal and social services, resume and job support, psychological services, and language training. They also permit clients clothing, health services, a small monthly stipend to cover food. However, migrants seeking asylum cannot work during this time, leaving them totally dependent on outside assistance while they await a legal decision. Because the application waitlist is so backlogged—El País recently reported that 41% of people who have applied for asylum since 2010 are still waiting, or 20,000 people—this 6-month process can take up to a year or longer in deemed non-vulnerable cases. It is particularly difficult for groups like ONG Rescate, which works primarily with LGBTQI+ people and women seeking asylum for gender motives. Any NGO must specify their acogida and integration agenda to the individual profiles, and given the extreme vulnerability of their clientele, provide a high standard of attention and care. This can be difficult as the state keeps rapidly changing processes, interfering with and qualifying a long-term endeavor.

Finally, the individual enters the integration stage during which they live independently, but continue to have some financial dependence on the state or an NGO as they build skills and prepare to enter the workforce. 6 months to a year later, they enter the autonomous stage where they can rely on NGO support to search for jobs but are otherwise independent. In its entirety, the process can take up to 3 years for ordinary cases. Yet even after up to 3 years of integration, an asylum application can be denied— meaning that the applicant must return to their country of origin. The slow wait times, low acceptance rates, and inability to work—unlike in other EU countries such as Germany, where the wait to work is only 3 months—during the initial stages of acogida make Spain an uncertain destination for migrants. It also leads to immense stress on already economically strapped civil society organizations, which receive inconsistent government support. This is crucial, as civil society organizations like ONG Rescate often refuse the one size fits all view of refugees that can complicate integration. “We always try to help the person” William added. “[Acogida] has to be transcultural.”

As we will see in Part II, there is a willingness and eagerness amongst Spaniards to realize this important goal—but it is not always clear how to create such a transcultural policy.


 

 

Madison Chapman is a MALD candidate at The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. She most recently served as a Fulbright ETA in Madrid, Spain, where she also conducted research and helped to resettle refugee women and LGBTQI+ migrants through ONG Rescate. She has formerly worked with Human Rights Watch, PeaceWomen, and the East Bay Community Law Center on migration and gender research, and is focused on gender-responsive asylum law and resettlement policy. She earned her degree in Political Science at the University of California, Berkeley. Ms. Chapman can be contacted at madisonchapman10@gmail.com.

Will Brexit Setback Human Rights Protections in the United Kingdom?

Brian Dan is a guest contributor from the University of Strathclyde and a L.L.M. candidate in human rights law

Is Brexit just a snag in European Union integration without accompanying regression in human rights legislation? Of course not. Brexit signals a backsliding in human rights protections and imperils the closest thing to a constitutional framework for human rights in the United Kingdom.

The U.K. has over 40 years of EU law transposed into its own laws. Together, the EU laws, which are supreme to the domestic laws of the EU states; the Common Law system of England and Wales, which is law created by judges in courts; and the legislative directives of the Council of Europe, an international organization comprised of 47 European states, constitute an overarching, legally-binding system for the promotion, respect and protection of fundamental human rights and freedoms.

The human rights protections provided to British citizens by the U.K.’s membership in the EU and Council of Europe are distinct but also complementary. The EU’s Charter of Fundamental Rights and Council of Europe’s European Convention on Human Rights, which established the European Court of Human Rights as the apex interpretative body of EU law, all contribute to the human rights framework that protects citizens in the U.K. However, it is not the U.K. government’s intention to retain all EU law following Brexit. Instead, it has introduced what is now published as the European Union (Withdrawal) Bill, which will end the supremacy of EU law in the U.K. legal system when passed.  

For any U.K. electorate, the decision not to transpose the EU’s Charter of Fundamental Rights— one of the main instruments governing human rights protection in the EU— into domestic law via the withdrawal bill should cause concern. It means British citizens will be stripped of some of the legal protections guaranteed by the Charter if no equivalent legislative interventions are put in place.

This could mean a reduction in human rights and procedural remedies in areas within the scope of EU law. These areas include privacy, data protection and the right to a fair hearing, to name a few. The General Data Protection Regulation of the EU, passed in 2018, hinged on the Charter, for instance. It is currently directly applicable in the U.K. and affords  British citizens an elevated degree of personal data privacy and protection that expands on the protections offered by the UK Data Protection Act of 1998. The introduction of the right to be forgotten, for example, provides an obligation to erase any personal data held by an organization upon request by the right holder, the obligation to ensure that personal data is collected only after explicit consent, and the right to access personal data upon request in a readable and portable format, rights which are some of the data security protections accorded to all EU citizens. There are currently no immediate equivalent protections in U.K. domestic law.

Pro-EU protests in the aftermath of the United Kingdom European Union membership referendum, 2016. // ilovetheeu// Creative Commons

It would also mean the loss of a backstop of protection against regression to the national laws in areas such as anti-discrimination, environmental protections, workers’ rights, access to social security, and health care and consumer rights.

Furthermore, an EU exit represents the loss of the oversight role by the European Court of Justice over the U.K. in observance of its human rights obligations under EU laws. The Court of Justice has long protected fundamental rights by interpreting them as general principles of EU law for the last three decades.

It is clear that the elimination of European oversight over the many social gains exposes these guarantees to governmental attack and other mechanisms for dilution post-Brexit. As the situation stands, removal of legal protections may not even involve substantive parliamentary oversight. Historically, the U.K. government has strongly opposed much of Europe’s social rights agenda. So, only time will tell if Brexit will mean the end of many social rights protection in the U.K. The collective right of EU citizens were established at different times and in different ways, and the Charter was designed to summarize all the personal, civic, political, economic and social rights into one binding instrument.

At the moment, the U.K. has several layers of human rights protection frameworks that directly and indirectly impact its legal mechanisms in place to uphold fundamental individual rights. Where common law falls short, the U.K. courts rely on the jurisprudence of its affiliated regional and judicial institutions: The Court of Justice of the European Union and the European Court of Human Rights. This means the U.K. courts are obligated to consider the decisions of the European Court of Human Rights and act within the case law jurisprudence developed by it, not to regress from it and therefore undermine the level of protection afforded to UK citizens. Equally, the U.K. parliament and the executive are bound by its decisions as a State obligation under international law.

Of importance to note is that while the Charter’s direct applicability in the U.K. ends on “exit day,” the protection derived from the European Convention on Human Rights and the subsidiarity role of the European Court of Human Rights will remain unaffected. The U.K. still remains a member to the Council of Europe whose membership is hinged on ratification of its convention. In fact, the Council’s mandate revolves around the objectives of the Convention, and all 47 members states must be contracting signatories to the law.  

The Debate: Fundamental Rights Protections Post-Brexit

Much of the discussion at this stage is necessarily speculative as “exit day” has yet to arrive; even the provisions of the European Withdrawal Bill, with the amendments from the House of Commons set to be returned to the House of Lords, may not reach the statute book in their final form. The whole decoupling process is a beehive of uncertainties, at least for now. No final negotiation terms have yet been reached, and the stalemate seems not only to be in Brussels, the decoupling negotiation seat, but also at number 10 Downing Street.

At the moment, while the government remains adamant in its response to parliament that there will be no rights regression, the Joint Committee on Human Rights,  a select committee of both the House of Commons and House of Lords, remains unsatisfied with these answers. Some believe the disapplication of the Charter will not only result in a regression in rights protection but also create legal uncertainties. As general principles of EU law, the Charter rights form the anchorage upon which most legislation is established.

Human rights activists are calling for a reevaluation of Brexit, and a recent advisory case by anti-Brexiters in Edinburgh has expressed that the U.K. could still stay in the European Union if, for example, the current withdrawal stalemate continues and the resultant negotiation terms in the European Union Withdrawal Bill are rejected by Parliament. However, at the moment, there are no immediate indications as to when the court of sessions in Edinburgh will set down the case for a full hearing. While the opinion may take a long time to come, it remains worthy for consideration before “exit day” arrives.


Brian Dan is a human rights LLM candidate at the University of Strathclyde in the United Kingdom focusing on the United Nations human rights law system. His research interests lie in economic, social and cultural rights, and international law in general. He is currently a researcher at the Centre for the Study of Human Rights Law at the University of Strathclyde.

The Story of a Young Tunisian Mother’s Struggle for Safety

By Izzy Tomico Ellis, a journalist and activist who has been heavily involved in the refugee crisis since 2015. Additional reporting by Niamh Keady-Tabbal.

Syrine* is sitting on the edge of a bed inside a tidy room for two, in City Plaza — a squatted hotel in Greece where solidarians from all over the world have flocked to bring respite to its refugee residents. Her little son started walking yesterday. In between our conversation, she holds out her hands to catch him as he falls down. Soothing him, she recalls, “I looked on Facebook to find out what to do when he was crying. I was alone with a baby…I didn’t know anything.” 

When we asked her if we could write down her story, she smiled, “I’ve thought about telling it a lot.”

The strength with which she carried herself had compelled me to ask, and at the same time made me worry she’d laugh. For her, a 21-year-old mother, bravery comes so naturally. 

When we first met in Athens in the January darkness, she explained that her husband had gone out the previous night to buy cigarettes and never came home. In the morning, she had called the main hospitals.

“He wasn’t there. I was relieved a little,’’ Syrine recounts shakily. But a few hours later, she had discovered he was in prison after being caught without the legal papers for refugees in Athens.

Too scared to return to where she had been staying, Syrine had been pushing her son, Salah*, around the streets in a buggy ever since.

Alone and homeless, remarkably she kept a clear head. She spoke calmly in English, asking for a lawyer to come the next day to try and resolve the situation for herself and her family, and arranged a room at City Plaza.

It wasn’t the first time. The young Tunisian woman has spent nearly three years running to protect herself, her husband and their son. Salah was just 8-months-old when they had to flee their country after Syrine’s relatives threatened to kill her in revenge for bringing dishonor to the family. The couple had managed to marry just before Salah was born, but Syrine’s family continues to look for her.

“My brother would do it, I know he would,” she said. Until then, she had been at university, hiding the relationship and pregnancy from her family. “I didn’t want an abortion; it’s easy, but it was my baby with the man I loved.”

The International Women’s Day march in Athens, March 08, 2018. // Izzy Tomico Ellis

She described the double-life she was leading in Tunisia, scrolling through old Facebook posts and event pages of the electronic music nights she and her husband would attend in the city of Sousse, close to the country’s capital, Tunis.

Tunisia has made significant legal advancements in the push toward gender equality, including lifting a ban on Muslim women marrying non-Muslim men and ending a law that meant rapists could escape punishment by marrying their victims. However, systematic violence against women still persists: In 2016, the Tunisian Association of Democratic Women said 70 percent of Tunisian women were victims of abuse and honor killings in Tunisia are still reported.

“One man told me there was no hope for asylum, and I should just go back,” she shakes her head . “He has no idea… My father is a famous man, he cares about what the people think, not about me —  we had to leave.”

After fleeing to Turkey, they arrived on the Greek island of Lesvos. Syrine describes what she saw in the camp as unbelievable. “Everywhere children without clothes or shoes,” she says. “Some people stay there for over a year —  one year!” Her eyes widen. “ I would go crazy.”

Moria camp has become an infamous symbol of the European refugee crisis where living conditions that lie behind barbed wire fences have been repeatedly condemned by leading human rights organizations. 

“We went to a hotel the next day and travelled to the mainland illegally. I couldn’t live there… with a baby,” she shakes her head.

“I think he misses him. He was happier before,” she gestures to Salah, as he refuses food in a restaurant close by to where they are staying.

Syrine has spent the last few weeks trying to arrange paperwork for her husband, to no avail. As the pair had left the previous island camp without the correct documents, she was told she would have to return if their asylum case was to be processed as a couple. Though, Syrine has relentlessly tried other ways.

“Every day I wake up early, I go to this organization — Katahaki (the Greek Asylum Service) — but each day passes and nothing happens,” she says. “Every night I would fall asleep and hope tomorrow will bring a solution.’’

But it hasn’t, so today she is leaving. Her hair is more blonde, and she’s cut it shorter. Her husband is still imprisoned, and Syrine is forced to leave her safe room in the hotel —  to travel back to a camp and live alone.

“It’s a dangerous step, but I must do it. I must go back there to help my husband,” she says. Her voice falters. Only a few days were spent at the camp before —  but she’s seen enough to know the dangers, the difficulties, the fear —  not being able to go to the toilet after a certain time, sleeping with her belongings wrapped in her arms, with her baby.

We find Syrine’s suitcase and bags parked outside the hotel. She comes out a few minutes later. Her face is made up. She looks European. It’s deliberate, for fear of police and discrimination. She pulls a hat over her son’s dark curls, speaking to him in English. Walking toward the train, she runs into friends on the street, another goodbye.

She made the same trip, just in the other direction, with her husband only months before. The closer we get, the more her face looks as if it will crumble —  her nervousness at the uncertainty that awaits her and her little baby lurching closer and closer each station we pass —  but it never does.

“I studied one year of architecture, then nursing, but now I think I want to be a mechanic,” she had told us in the days before.

Off the train, she gathers herself again, struggling to collapse the buggy into a taxi as the driver tuts impatiently, the hinges catching on baby toys —  as ever, she holds her cool —  once again methodically packing her life belongings.

 

*Syrine and Salah are false names used to protect real identities.

 

Izzy Tomico Ellis is a journalist and activist who has been heavily involved in the refugee crisis since 2015. Izzy graduated with a first class honours degree in journalism from the University of Westminster in 2016 and is currently based in Greece. Additional reporting for this article was contributed by Niamh Keady-Tabbal.

 

Soviet Affirmative Action and Contemporary Inclusion of Minorities

by Ulia Popova, a Visiting Scholar at Columbia University ISHR 

November 7 marks the 100th anniversary of the Russian Revolution, an event that set in motion one of the controversial political experiments of the 20th century, the development of a socialist state. The legacy of the Soviet experiment is contradictory, given the greatness of the idea that inspired it and the tragedies it engendered. The Soviet treatment of the rights of ethnic minorities is particularly instructive in this regard, not least due to its relevance to the contemporary debate over inclusion and diversity.

Terry Martin, a Harvard historian, called the Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR) the “world’s first Affirmative Action Empire.” With the exception of India, no other multi-cultural state before or after the USSR, Martin writes, took action of equivalent scope in support of the cultural and political rights of ethnic minorities. The architects of the Soviet Union envisioned it as a state based on the principle of self-determination of all nations. The new state was diverse: the first census in 1926 accounted for close to 200 distinct cultural communities composing the USSR. Lenin theorized self-determination primarily as political autonomy: the arrangement of the new state would offer oppressed peoples a unique chance to liberate themselves by taking control over their political destinies.

Soviet measures in the area of minority rights became known as “nationalities policies,” after the Russian legal term natsional’nost’ that captures a cultural identity of a group and a citizen, while also having a political component. Nationality linked a specific group to an explicitly defined territory, which that group was entitled to administer as its officially recognized historical homeland.

An elaborate and hierarchical system of institutions of self-government was developed to implement this vision on all levels, beginning with the Union republics, and going down to reach distant and demographically small cultural groups living in the Russian North. Measures of quota-based representation of minorities in the regional and federal institutions of administration reinforced the vision, helping ethnic leaders to advance to positions of power.

Russian Revolution has given national life and development to many groups in Russia. Russian Posters Collection, 1919-1989 and undated. // David M. Rubenstein Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Duke University

These policies were implemented in varying degrees throughout the history of the Soviet Union. Despite their promise of political liberation, the Soviet Affirmative Action did not afford minorities self governance. On the contrary, from the start these policies became instruments to maintain a centralized authoritarian state.

Why? The Soviet state architects were not concerned with protecting the institutions of governance that traditionally functioned within the ethnic communities integrated into a new state, such as, for example, kinship-based rule, prevalent among Soviet Asian communities, or the prominence of spiritual leaders (shamans) in decision making among remote indigenous Northern communities. Further, facing the threat of nationalism at the formation of the Union, Soviet leaders could not allow minorities to make decisions in accord with their local contexts and traditions. On the surface, Soviet policies guaranteed ethnic leaders an opportunity to institute a degree of control over their designated homelands, but in reality, the available means of governance were those devised to support communist rule. This approach stripped local authorities of their powers; their influence was limited to the private sphere as a group of new leaders, notoriously known as “ethnic party cadres,” replaced them. Trained in the Soviet system of education and employed within the state administration, they could only stay in power by serving their state and thus extending the institutions of authoritarian rule. The forms of local self-government they helped to institute were– to borrow from Stalin– “national” (i.e. ethnic) in form, “socialist in content.”

The legacies of the nationality policies are sadly known. During the Soviet times, they caused demographic catastrophe for a number of communities, most prominently to the Russian Northern indigenous groups, especially when implemented through forced relocations and industrialization projects. The structural and political arrangements these policies helped to produce became supportive of authoritarian rule during the post-Soviet times. In Russia, for example, a rise of ethnic self-determination movements during the 1990s engendered an extreme rise of autocratic governance leading to a contemporary approach to minority rights– to quote one observer– framed by Moscow’s attempt to “drive ethnicity out of politics.”

The wider significance of the Soviet Affirmative Action experiment is in its relevance to the contemporary projects of multiculturalism. Current visions of political equality often target measures that ensure inclusion of different groups into the state institutions in response to the history of their discrimination based on race, gender, culture and socio-economic conditions. While these measures provide opportunities to some minority individuals, they also support maintenance of the existing social and political order, as opposed to the reform that is promised rhetorically. As with the Soviet Affirmative Action initiatives, they strengthen the existing institutions of governance at the cost of widening the gap between those at the periphery of the system and those with power.

Ulia Popova (Gosart) is a Visiting Scholar at Columbia University ISHR, working with Elsa Stamatopoulou, director of the Indigenous Peoples’ Rights program. Her current research focuses on political mobilizations among indigenous peoples living in the post-Soviet states. She has served on Russia’s indigenous umbrella organization for several years as a U.N. representative. Her publications are available at ResearchGate.

A Hidden Population of Disabled Refugees in the U.K.

By Jason Hung, a guest blogger from the University of Warwick

Currently, there are an estimated 118,995 refugees living in the U.K., composing less than one percent of the country’s total population. Three to ten percent of these refugees are thought to have a physical or mental disability. Due to the small number of disabled refugees living in the U.K., the rights of these refugees have often been disregarded, according to Keri Roberts and Jennifer Harris, research fellows from the University of York who generated data on the numbers and social characteristics of disabled refugees and asylum seekers living in Britain. Their research, which was completed in collaboration with the Refugee Council, found that U.K. communities are unable to provide sufficient aid for these vulnerable groups.

“Disabled people in refugee and asylum-seeking communities frequently experienced great hardship,” the authors note. “Considerable confusion about the responsibilities of different agencies and National Asylum Seekers Service (NASS), a lack of coordinated information and service provision, and gaps in professional knowledge on disability-related entitlements increased the difficulties experienced by disabled people in refugee and asylum-seeking communities.” For example, disabled refugees in the U.K. encounter inappropriate housing, as well as inadequate aid and equipment. There is also no official source of data about disabled refugees in the U.K, and it is noteworthy to highlight that even the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR) fails to estimate the number of disabled refugees who have been resettled. Roberts and Harris conclude in their report that the insufficient statistical and empirical data about disabled refugees implicates the possibility of an invisible population of disabled refugees residing in the U.K. The extent of the social needs of these refugees remains unknown.

An image of refugee children in school // DFID // Flickr

A lack of financial support and access can bar disabled refugees from learning English and other valuable languages, such as British Sign Language (BSL) for deaf individuals, for example. In addition, communication difficulties have discouraged some disabled refugees from seeking community support and accessing benefits. One Vietnamese refugee missed out on disability-related benefits for 22 years because he was not properly informed about the availability of the Disability Living Allowance, according to a report by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation. The same report noted that a disabled Somali woman was never properly informed about how to apply for humanitarian aid due to language barriers. Without a helping hand, disabled refugees could find it challenging to live in the U.K. unless their English proficiency improves.

The year 2017 has further marked a bleak future for disabled refugees in the U.K. The government terminated the acceptance of disabled child refugees arriving from the war in Syria and other countries, including Libya, Yemen and Iraq. The Vulnerable Children’s Resettlement Scheme hoped to resettle 3,000 of the most vulnerable disabled child refugees prior to its suspension. These children must now stay in refugee camps, instead of being placed in the U.K. Shantha Barriga, director of Human Rights Watch’s disability rights division, denounced this action, stating, “Shutting the door on vulnerable children is an affront to British values…. People with disabilities endure unimaginable hardship during conflicts, and many faced huge hurdles in escaping the violence.” Lisa Doyle, head of advocacy at the Refugee Council, supplemented this statement by adding that disabled refugees are by definition the most vulnerable groups. The U.K. government should thus prioritize the resettlement of these cohorts and accommodate them safely, advocates argue.

Allan Hennessy // Noticias del Mundo // YouTube

Allan Hennessy, a blind Iraqi refugee and a recent law graduate from the University of Cambridge, told the BBC in July 2017 that he might have joined ISIS or been killed in war if he was not able to stay in the U.K. as a refugee. In the end, the biggest hurdle refugees with disabilities face might not be any physical limitation but the social discrimination that impedes them from pursuing a better life. “When you’re an overweight, brown, blind guy climbing the greasy pole, everyone can see and they judge you – even though they are doing it too.” Hennesy explained to BBC reporters.

Whether individuals have a physical or mental disability does not necessarily limit their work and life prospects; however, there is a contempt for disabled refugees, according to Hennessy. Refugees with disabilities suffer from social discrimination, including being sidelined in many aspects of humanitarian aid, such as health and rehabilitation services, reports the Division of Social Policy and Development Disability.

research report published by Research and Consultancy Unit (RCU) at Refugee Support and Metropolitan Support Trust defines disabled refugees in the U.K. as a “hidden population.” The number of disabled refugees and the multiple disadvantages they are up against are rarely known by local humanitarian service agencies and government authorities, the report notes. The research adds that most disabled refugees, in line with the rest of refugee cohorts, experience war and torture in their home countries and cultural and linguistic differences in their host countries. Their disabilities cast a further shadow on their livelihoods. As Hennessy wrote in The Guardian, “I have a disability; but I am not disabled.” It is the responsibility of both the U.K government and local communities to maximize the social capacity of refugees with disabilities by endeavouring to remove social stigmatization and ongoing impediments to aid.

Jason Hung is a visiting research scholar at UCLA for his original research project, “Good Muslim, Bad Muslim: The Existence or Absence of Cultural Tolerance toward American Muslims?” He will be presenting his research at the 7th International Conference on Interdisciplinary Social Science Studies at the University of Oxford. He is also a featured writer for both the Oxford Human Rights Hub and the LSE Human Rights Blog. His research interests include migration issues, refugee rights, feminism affairs, women’s rights, and public health policies.

From the Field: Building a Plurality of Memories in Spain

By Zina Precht-Rodriguez, Columbia College ’19

The story of Spain’s traumatic history is compelling because it is continuously unfolding. One of my most memorable experiences in Barcelona this summer was my visit to an air raid shelter that was designed during the Spanish Civil War to protect thousands of civilians during the fascist bombings of Barcelona. The existence of the shelter was only discovered a couple of years ago by a cable company. The company intended to build an underground landline to connect more people throughout Spain, but the irony of the situation is that something much deeper connects the people of Spain: a traumatic memory that tells the story of a vicious divide within Spain, as well as within Europe, of those who risked their lives for progressive change and those who compromised their own morality.

In 2017, these casual rediscoveries of a traumatic Spanish past are triggering an outpouring of civilian, intellectual and political inquiry. The European Observatory for Memories (EUROM) addresses these so-called “black spots in history” that have resulted in a pact of silence and brought Spanish society to an inevitable tipping point. In essence, an avalanche of unaddressed and unvalidated memories has come falling down, and there is no time to methodically pick up the pieces. To complicate this mess further, we must be reminded that the hands picking up the pieces are more likely to belong to the descendants of those witnesses of the Spanish Civil War, and later, of the Franco regime.

How does the intergenerational nature of the situation influence perspectives of justice? In order to explore this question, it is necessary to dive into my personal perspective and attempt to explain the nature of my own psychological matrix as I woke up everyday and went to work at EUROM. Toward the middle of my spring 2017 semester, I became transfixed with a pending national lawsuit called Juliana v. The United States. In short, the case posits 20 youth plaintiffs against the government. The youths are fighting for a right to a stable climate society; they explicitly argue that the government has disproportionately disfavored younger generations by leaving them with a turbulent climate system. My fascination with the case pushed me to challenge my understanding of generational trauma and justice. Similar to climate change, generational justice cannot be achieved by pointing the finger. It is easy to say that someone is “responsible,” but at the same time, responsibility gets lost in translation as generations elapse.

EUROM and Juliana are similar in the sense that they attempt to reinvent societal consensus; just as Juliana pushes the justice system to reevaluate how crucial climate is to a stable society, EUROM pushes people to finally recognize the gruesome realities of the war and the traumatic impacts it had on collective societal consciousness. In this vein, both actors attempt to evolve a moral spectrum by tapping into a unique emotionality.

Visitors explore the internal structure of La Model // Zina Precht-Rodriguez.

I was lucky enough to witness EUROM succeed in this mission; one of their most exciting recent developments includes the closure of a former men’s prison, La Model. The organization worked alongside the city government and other bilateral community organizations in a participatory process to close the prison, which served as one of Franco’s torture centers of innocent people during the Spanish Civil War. The process transformed the prison into a cultural and memorial space. The logic of this transformation is to recognize the significance of this space and to dismantle the tortuous and imprisoning aspect of it. Refashioning the space to facilitate activities that promote justice signifies to society that communities cannot only come to terms with the cruelty once committed in this space but also can positively address it.

But the impacts of the transformation go beyond mere symbols; the men once imprisoned in La Model are now emancipated and starting to integrate back into society. They have the opportunity to work during the day to earn money and then are required to return to government supervision at night. This experiment is called the “open prison model.” The model releases the men from the panopticon watch that the prison was designed to promote.

Projects like La Model exhibit how EUROM advocates that justice cannot be achieved when paired with amnesia. The process of remembering, recovering and retelling is central to the process of healing. Just because first-hand memories are gradually dissolving in numbers, it does not mean that younger generations facilitate civil society with a clean slate. I am returning to Columbia College reinvigorated by my experience at EUROM. I am approaching my studies with a strong belief that we inherit history, and as civilians, it is our duty to deal with and learn from it, passing this philosophy onto others when we leave earth.

This summer, Columbia College student Zina Precht-Rodriguez participated in an eight-week international internship program sponsored by Columbia University’s Institute for the Study of Human Rights (ISHR). Her research interests include climate policy and intergenerational justice. In this entry, she reflects on her time in Barcelona, Spain, at an ISHR affiliate organization, the European Observatory on Memories (EUROM), a “transnational network of institutions and organizations committed to the analysis and promotion of remembrance public policies.” The mission of EUROM is to “reflect on the recent history of the struggle for democracy and freedom in Spain and Europe, and to advocate for a plurality of memories.”

Viktor Orbán’s Hungary: A Nationalist Government Within the European Union

By Bárbara Matias, an M.A. student in human rights

In late May, thousands of Hungarians marched against Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s educational reform laws subduing foreign universities and non-governmental organizations. The educational reforms were the latest in a series of clashes between the right-wing Hungarian government and the European Union (EU); the protests yet another manifestation of civil society’s mobilization against Orbán’s opposition to EU frameworks. On May 1, the 13th anniversary of Hungary’s accession to the EU, for example, thousands took to the streets in a pro-EU rally, suitably called “We Belong to Europe.’’

This past April, Prime Minister Orbán and Hungary’s parliament passed an amendment to Hungary’s national law on higher education, tightening regulations on independent and foreign-funded universities. Specifically, the law targets the Central European University (CEU), a Budapest-based university founded by Hungarian-born American financier George Soros and accredited in the United States and Hungary since 1993. The current government under Orbán sought legal means to shut the university down, viewing it as a foreign NGO whose liberal and internationalist teachings undermine the power of the elected government.

Hungarians marched against Prime Minister Viktor Orbán in April 2017 // jennifer.ang // Fickr

The act defines new requirements such as opening a campus in the country of accreditation and tightening bilateral agreements between Hungary and the university’s country of origin, in this case, the United States. It pushes back against globalization and liberalism, and further threatens to slide the country into an authoritarian state. As academics worldwide and international organizations condemned the passage of this law, Lydia Gall, Balkans and Eastern Europe researcher at Human Rights Watch, stated, “The Hungarian government’s contempt for critical voices in society and academic freedom is unworthy of an EU member state.”

Hungary has been under the current administration of Prime Minister Viktor Orbán’s national conservative rule since 2010. Openly skeptical of EU integration, Orbán said in May 2014 during the European Union elections that Hungary “must tell Brussels loudly and resolutely: respect the Hungarians!” He quickly opposed the EU Commission’s mandatory quotas for relocating migrants, calling a national referendum to vote on the EU plan, which prompted EU representatives to question how such a referendum “would fit into the decision-making process which was agreed to by all member states, including Hungary, under EU treaties.”

Viktor Orbán // Creative Commons

The referendum sought to legitimize the government’s conservative, anti-European and anti-immigration stance through a popular domestic vote – in fact, Orbán spent 10 bn Hungarian forints (around €30m) campaigning for the ‘No’ vote and feeding the concerns of the electorate.

Prime Minister Orbán also notably sparked outrage in 2013, by amending the country’s constitution to boost his executive powers. At the time, German media outlet Der Spiegel noted, “In other words, a country at the center of the European Union is moving away from the principles of freedom, democracy and the rule of law.’’

In 2014, the Hungarian Prime Minister incensed EU counterparts once more by claiming that the EU does not deter Hungary from “building an illiberal new state based on economic hardship.” In 2015, Orbán similarly faced European outcry by stating that he believes the death penalty should be put back on the government’s agenda – even as a total ban of capital punishment is enshrined in both the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the EU (Article 2 reads that “no one shall be condemned to the death penalty, or executed’’) and the European Convention on Human Rights (Article 1 of the 13th Protocol establishes that “the death penalty shall be abolished’’).

Protest in April 2017 against Prime Minister Viktor Orbán in solidarity with CEU // jennifer.ang // Fickr

Most recently, with the amended education law, the Hungarian government has once more challenged core values of the union it belongs to. Article 13 of the Charter of Fundamental Rights of the EU states that “the arts and scientific research shall be free of constraint” and “academic freedom shall be respected,’’ much like Article 14 safeguards the right to education. EU officials finally launched an infringement procedure against Hungary in late April, demanding that is either justify or amend its breaches to EU human rights and open-market standards, at the risk of a referral to the European Court of Justice and possible fines.

Clearly, there is an evident downward spiral of human rights and rule-of-law in Hungary as Prime Minister Orbán insists on continuing to defy EU standards of academic freedom and democratic governance. As EU citizens and rights-holders, Hungarian’s freedoms remain at risk under Orbán’s repressive crackdowns and government of supranationalism.

Bárbara Matias is an M.A. candidate at the Institute for the Study of Human Rights at Columbia University. Her research interests include refugee rights, forced displacement, and human rights affairs in the context of the European Union.