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Death of a fighter: Post-Yugoslav civil society bids farewell to dissident playwright Borka Pavićević · Global Voices
Filip Stojanovski

Borka Pavićević at the conference “Is there a chance for civil society in Macedonia?” held in Skopje on May 18, 2018. Photo by Vančo Džambaski, CC BY-NC-SA.
Influential Serbian playwright and anti-war activist Borka Pavićević passed away at 72 on June 30, 2019, in Belgrade, after falling ill suddenly. Civil society activists and cultural workers from all over former Yugoslavia have commemorated her outstanding legacy.
Borka Pavićević was the founder and director of Centre for Cultural Decontamination (CZKD), a Belgrade artistic institution established in 1994 whose mission was to fight the climate of nationalism, xenophobia, hatred, and fear running rampant during the breakup of Yugoslavia that fueled the latest round of Balkan wars (1991-2001).
Borka Pavićević [1947-2019] R.I.P. – A very dear and courageous friend, in so many civic struggles from the very beginnings and founder and leader of the #Belgrade Center for Cultural Decontamination and so much else… A very sad day https://t.co/LWHEAizQQ8
— Ivan Vejvoda (@IVejvoda) June 30, 2019
Pavićević's activism started during the 1968 student demonstrations in Belgrade. At that time, she was studying at Belgrade's Academy of Theatre, Film, Radio, and Television.
Writer Bora Ćosić remembered her from that time as a “rebellious girl with pigtails”, and described her as “the Mother Courage of Second Serbia” in the title of his eulogy, comparing her to the title character from Bertolt Brecht's anti-war play Mother Courage and Her Children.
An obituary published by CZKD noted that during the 1970s and 1980s she had a prolific career as art director and playwright in a number of theaters across Yugoslavia, as well as at the celebrated Belgrade theaters Atelje 212 and the Belgrade Drama Theater. In 1993, she was fired from the Belgrade Drama Theater due to her opposition to the regime of Slobodan Milošević.
For many years, Pavićević wrote columns on the newspapers Susret, Vreme, and Danas, and have had books of essays published. She was awarded the Hiroshima Foundation for Peace and Culture award in 2004, the “Ruts” award of the European Cultural Foundation in 2009, the “Osvajanje slobode” (Conquest of Freedom) award from the Maja Maršićević Tasić Foundation in 2005, and the Legion d’Honneur from the government of France in 2001.
The etymology of the female name Borka is linked to the Serbian words for “fight” and “fighter,” a connection that wasn't lost on the many of the people who paid tribute to Pavičević on social networks in the past week. The actor and activist Sergej Trifunović tweeted:
BORKA. Gledajte je kroz razne prizme i mislite šta god hoćete: Borka Pavićević je bila istrajan i pošten borac. Do kraja. I kad se ne bih slagao sa njom, uvek bih je poštovao. Jer sam radio s njom i za nju i kod nje, kao student i dalje.
Ona je stajala iza svakog čoveka. Uvek.
— Serge Truffaut (@WhistlerDick) July 2, 2019
BORKA. You can view her through various lenses and think of her what you will, but one thing remains: Borka Pavićević was a persistent and honest fighter. Until the end. And at the times when I disagreed with her, I always respected her. Because I worked with her and for her and at her place, as a student and beyond.
She stood behind every human being. Always.
A few Twitter users from Bosnia and Herzegovina noted that she was one of the few voices in Serbia who dared to speak out against the genocide in Srebrenica. They have tweeted some of her quotes, like the one below:
“Kad jednom počnete upotrebljavati eufemizme i laži, onda vi i u ostalim dijelovima života to isto činite. Zato je važno da smo precizni i smjeli, da imenujemo i kažemo – genocid” Borka Pavićević
— Arnes Grbesic (@ArnesGrbesic) June 30, 2019
“Once you start using euphemisms and lies for one thing, soon you continue using them in all other aspects of life. Therefore it's important that we talk in precisely and boldly, to name names and say it as it is — genocide.” – Borka Pavićević
BBC in Serbian noted that the Centre for Cultural Decontamination was the first institution who brought artists from Kosovo to Belgrade through the annual Festival “Mirëdita, dobar dan,” whose name is a play with the greeting “good day” as it's said in Albanian and Serbian. Her role in the process of reconciliation was remembered by Twitter users from Kosovo.
Sad news. Pavićević was part of the genuine anti-fascist intellectual scene in Belgrade & in the avant-garde of the real normalization of relations btw Albanians & Serbs. Among the pioneers in cultural & intellectual exchanges. https://t.co/CDaa627GBe
— Agon Maliqi (@AgonMaliqi) June 30, 2019
Croatian playwright Davor Špišić said that Borka Pavićević was not just a mentor, but “like a mother” to the rookie young writers and dramatists who started their careers in the late 1980s with the cross-national movement KPGT (Kazalište, Pozorište, Gledališče, Teatar). The name is a synthesis of all the words for “theater” in different South Slavic languages from former Yugoslavia.
Odlazak Borke Pavićević na daleka sazviježđa ostavio nas je praznima, ali sretnima da smo je imali u svojim univerzitetima. „Nedostatak čitanja je nedostatak erosa. A to je onda i nedostatak slobode“, rekla je u jednoj tv-emisiji o knjizi. Zbogom, Borka, knjigo naša.
The departure of Borka Pavićević to the far away galaxies left us empty, but also happy that we have had her in our universities. “Lack of reading is lack of Eros. And then it translates into lack of freedom,” she said in a TV show about books and reading. Goodbye Borka, you were our book.
While some Serbian right-wing nationalist trolls rejoiced Pavićević passing — with some doing a survey on whether she should be allowed to be buried in Serbian soil –, they were eclipsed by the outpouring of positive remembrances of her life, in the former Yugoslavia and beyond. Balkan actors, meanwhile, have vowed to keep working for maintaining peace, tolerance, and justice in the region.
#WBSummitPoznan session on regional #reconciliation is just starting. Reconciliation is one of the 4 original @BerlinProcess goals, and no progress has been made on it so far. The session starts with a long applause, instead of a moment of silence, in honour of Borka Pavićević. pic.twitter.com/KFI5z2bICd
— Ana Marjanović Rudan (@ana_rudan) July 4, 2019
The funeral took place on July 3 in Belgrade after cremation and singing of the old Yugoslav anthem.

author: Filip Stojanovski


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The lives of South Asians in Khon Kaen, northeast Thailand · Global Voices
The Isaan Record

Narinthorn Sachdev measures cloth for a customer in his store. Photo and caption from The Isaan Record, used with permission.
This edited article by Priya Vaikuntapathi is from The Isaan Record, an independent news site in Thailand, and is republished on Global Voices as part of a content-sharing agreement.
Soft pop music is playing as the wind rustles through the outdoor patio, carrying the rich aromas of Indian spices and sizzling hot curries. A tall, dark-skinned man dressed in Western clothes, walks out of the kitchen carrying a tray of buttery naan and steaming jasmine rice.
When Queentrus Dominic, known as Quinn, moved to Khon Kaen in northeast Thailand in 2010, he thought he was the only South Asian not just in the city but in the entire region. Deprived of his Sri Lankan home cuisine and a businessman at heart, he opened Quinn’s One and Only, an Indian restaurant, in 2018.
Quickly, he found that he was far from the only South Asian.
South Asians of diverse backgrounds, whether they’ve been in Khon Kaen for generations or ten months, are making unique impacts on the city’s cultural landscape and changing local perceptions through daily interactions.
Over 29.5 million people have emigrated from South Asia across the world, according to the United Nations’ 2017 International Migration Report. They include people from India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Pakistan, the Maldives, Nepal, Bhutan and Afghanistan. Of the millions making up an incredible diaspora, there are 40 to 50 South Asians living in Khon Kaen.
Although many have recently immigrated due to job opportunities, South Asians have been in Khon Kaen since the 1930s.
Sporting a turban, a beard, and a hearty laugh, Narinthorn Sachdev, 54, a Sikh man, recounts his family immigration story of over 90 years. The family of the proud businessman of Thai, Indian, and Sikh heritage first started coming to Thailand in the 30s. After Pakistan split from the newly independent Indian in 1947, his clan left their home in Gujirawala District, now Pakistan, and many moved to Isaan. Khon Kaen is one of the four major cities of Isaan region.
Sikhs have settled in Thailand since the late 19th century. Some of them migrated as fabric traders and tailors to Isaan. During the Vietnam War, a second wave of Sikh immigrants moved from Bangkok to cities with large United States military bases like Udon Thani and Nakhon Phanom, tailoring their businesses to the needs of American soldiers.
Having been in Khon Kaen for generations, the local Sikh community is strong, with an active temple located in the city center. Sikhs in Thailand have gained royal patronage — support from the royal family. Sikhism is one of five religions in addition to Buddhism under royal patronage.
Growing up in Khon Kaen in the late 1960s, Narinthorn says it wasn’t always easy being different from the other children. He remembers his childhood struggles of being bullied because of his appearance and faith.
But today he laughs about these experiences as he recalls a time when his father came and scared the bullies away because the kids had never seen a tall man with a turban and long beard like him.
Many online forums claim that Thailand can be unforgiving to people of Indian descent. Racial slurs against South Asians have been used in addition to other stereotypes, claiming that Indians have a bad smell, that their food is too oily and unhealthy, that they exploit and cheat people and more.
One user on “Reddit” wrote in a thread:
For Indians, it’s quite negative actually because we have general perception toward Indians as ‘smelly and demanding’.. I don’t think I need to explain anything much on the smell. For ‘demanding’, we feel like Indians love to ask and demand for this and that all the times.
But Narinthorn is sure that he hasn’t faced much discrimination in Khon Kaen. Because of his long-standing local business, his family has gained a lot of respect in the community. At the same time, though, he has grown a bit tired of constantly having to convince people that his nationality is Thai.
Other South Asians who moved to Khon Kaen more recently say their experiences have been overwhelmingly positive.
Sanchita Chatterjee, an Indian working as a program specialist at the Mekong Institute, describes Khon Kaen as a fantastic place to live for her and her daughter. She acknowledges the struggles that come with raising a child in a new country, but this has little to do with their Indian background.
On the weekend, I go to Tesco Lotus Extra. I go to Central Plaza. I don’t see anyone who looks like me, not that it bothers me. I’ve gotten used to it. It’s not like anyone stares or anything. That’s not in the culture…Thais are very accepting.
Nazir Ul Haq, a Pakistani Muslim working at the Mekong Institute who migrated to Khon Kaen over two years ago, doesn’t feel that his identity plays a large role in his work. Although he has faced some issues in other countries, such as Myanmar, because of his identity, overall, he feels that it is not something that affects him in Thailand.
People tend to test their own stereotypes when we interact and it breaks the general stereotypes people have about South Asians.
Sanchita has been living in Khon Kaen with her daughter for ten months. She doesn’t feel that her Indian background plays any role in her workplace at the Mekong Institute because she brings experience and expertise to her job, not her identity. Photo and caption from The Isaan Record, used with permission.
Restaurant owner Quinn has experienced a lot of curiosity because of his appearance, looking South Asian and dressing in Western-style clothing.
Before coming to Khon Kaen, Quinn had moved to the United Kingdom from Sri Lanka at the age of nine after his father was killed in Sri Lanka's civil war. He quickly learned how to adapt to a new culture.
In a way, [adapting to Thai culture] wasn’t forced on me because I knew I had to [adapt] if I wanted to live here, since I’ve done it before…It was kind of easy. I knew what I had to do.
Reflecting on the racism he faced growing up in the UK, he says he never experienced anything like that in Khon Kaen.
They don’t give you any headaches, any nasty stuff like we get in Europe or America nowadays. They’re like ‘Are you happy in Thailand, in Khon Kaen?’ That’s cool!
“People kept saying to me, ‘it’s not possible…you can’t sell Indian food here. You can’t do that.’ No. If you put your mind to it, you can do it,” Quinn says. Photo and caption from The Isaan Record, used with permission.
Originally, Quinn believed widespread claims that Thais don’t like Indian food and marketed his restaurant mainly toward foreigners. But he was happily surprised when proved wrong. Around 60-70 percent of Quinn’s customers are Thai. And he didn’t make his restaurant work in the middle of the city, but rather in one of the semi-rural villages on its fringes.
People just came up with all kind of assumptions, you know, and I believed it as well, but looking at it now, it was completely wrong, and without [Thai customers], I probably wouldn’t survive at all.
“I want to change the narrative about Indians through food!” Quinn says.
Through daily life and interactions, the small number of South Asians are slowly changing minds about stereotypes and initial perceptions that people have. They are taking steady steps to be a part of Khon Kaen’s growing cosmopolitan community and change the way people think about them.
“I think I’ve changed the narrative quite a bit in this village,” Quinn says as he quickly gets up to help a server with a delivery.
The sun sets on the beautiful, outdoor terrace of the restaurant as customers walk in and out of the restaurant. Quinn sits back down, looking out into the busy atmosphere of his restaurant, a smile on his face. “See? Thais love the food!”
*Priya Vaikuntapathi is a student of Global Studies at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign in the United States. She studied development and human rights in Khon Kaen in the spring 2019 semester.

source: news-globalvoices

license: Creative Commons - Attribution - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

author: The Isaan Record


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How one journalist sparked Armenia’s #MeToo moment · Global Voices
Karena Avedissian

“Voices of Violence”: the new hashtag has prompted public debate about sexualized violence in Armenia. Image by Tom Venner.
Warning: This article features accounts of sexual assault which some readers may find disturbing.
On Monday, July 1, an independent Armenian journalist named Lucy Kocharyan began posting anonymous personal accounts of sexual harassment and violence on her Facebook page. By the end of the day on July 2, more than 200 stories had been shared and the associated hashtag, #բռնության_ձայնը (or “voice of violence” in English), became the highest trending in Armenia.
The campaign developed after a case of sexual assault against a Czech woman named Eva was published by investigative news outlet Hetq.am. Eva, who lived in Armenia for one year, had been volunteering in Vanadzor, the country’s third-largest city, when she survived an attack and attempted rape. After escaping her attacker, she sought shelter in neighbors’ homes, but was pushed out and told that “it is impossible for such a thing to happen in Armenia.”
Eva’s story is significant not just for the social problems it unveiled — specifically victim-blaming and widespread denial of the problem—but because Eva pursued justice and her attacker was sentenced to three years in prison.
After Kocharyan posted about Eva’s story on Facebook, she was approached by Armenian women who wanted her to show the public that sexual violence is not just experienced by foreign women in the country, but by Armenian women too. These women also wanted to fight the stereotype that Armenian women are not outspoken, and started to send Kocharyan their personal accounts of sexual assault, which Kocharyan published anonymously on her Facebook page. In an unexpected turn, members of the public — mostly women, but also men — trusting Kocharyan’s journalistic credentials and her ability to keep their identities confidential, began sending her their stories and asking her to share them. The wave of sharing grew, propelling the topic to the forefront of the Armenian public’s attention.
Kocharyan’s campaign was supported publicly by at least two members of government: Minister of Labor and Social Affairs Zara Batoyan, and Minister of Health Arsen Torosyan. The journalist was interviewed by various news outlets about the campaign, including CivilNet, Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty Azatutyun, and Petros Ghazarian, who hosts a popular political discussion show.
However, some parts of Armenian society are skeptical about the veracity of the stories being shared; they find it hard to believe that so many incidents could have actually happened in Armenia, especially those where the abuser is a family member. For example Sofya Hovsepyan, a member of parliament from Armenia’s ruling My Step Coalition, criticized the campaign on her Facebook page for creating what she considers an unfairly negative image of Armenia. Kocharyan has responded to such skepticism in interviews, saying that “sexual harassment happens in every society, including ours; our specific challenge is what we do about it afterwards.” As journalist Samson Martirosyan said on his Facebook page, the sheer number of stories emerging is hard for people to accept as they were truly unaware of the problem’s existence; nevertheless, he continued, they would have to accept reality at some point.
The more than 200 stories shared document all kinds of sexual abuse and harassment. There are stories of abuse from relatives, classmates, romantic partners, and strangers. Most of the testimonies were from women, but some men shared theirs as well, expressing the hope that their experiences would show that men are also subjected to sexualized violence.
Kocharyan vetted and fact-checked all the stories, and in some cases reached out to the authors to verify certain details. Kocharyan says that she was surprised by the response, especially as she had not made any announcement or calls for contributions. She sees the sharing as self-motivated, and a sign that those who reached out to her just wanted to be heard.
The campaign could be likened to an Armenian #MeToo. It has forced a very public questioning of what lies beneath the surface of idealistic understandings of Armenian society, how power operates in Armenia’s traditional and patriarchal society, why many people have not come forward sooner, what obligation broader society has to survivors, and what constitutes consent. Moreover, it has highlighted the importance of an effective law enforcement that can respond to individuals facing abuse and pursue perpetrators.
Perhaps the most significant aspect of this campaign has been the overwhelmingly positive reaction from the Armenian public. While Kocharyan has deleted comments that ridicule the survivors and blocked their authors, readers’ comments still overwhelmingly validate the horror that the survivors experienced, expressing compassion and support.
If nothing else, this campaign has given rise to a new community in Armenia: a community of those who believe and support survivors of abuse and who will neither ignore nor suppress of such incidents. This was demonstrated after one particularly harrowing account of a woman who was abused as a child by her mother’s partner.
After describing the abuse, the woman wrote, “Now I want to die every day. I want to ask him, why did you do that to me, why did you ruin a little girl’s life? Why did you cause me so much pain? I was a small, pretty, curly-haired, brave and strong child. Why did you turn me into a such an exhausted, frightened coward?”
The first comment beneath the testimony reads:
“Curly-haired girl, I want you to be reborn.”
One young woman writes:
«15 տարեկան էի, շփվում էի ինձնից 2-3 տարի մեծերի հետ:
ընկերներիցս մեկի ծնունդն էր, 18 ամյակը որոշել էր փաբում նշեր, ես էլ ուրախացա որ ինձ մեծի տեղ են դրել կանչել
գնացի, ծանոթացա իր ընկերների հետ, բարձր երաժշտություն էր, ալկոհոլ, իսկ ես չէի խմում: մի տղա առանձահատուկ ուշադրություն էր ինձ դարձնում, անընդհատ ուզում էր խմեի, իսկ ինձ դա տհաճ էր, որոշեցի որ տուն գնալուս ժամանակնա:
հատուկ քննադատողների համար, չէ կարճ յուբկայով չէի, խմած չէի, ծխած չէի, տարիքս էլ բոլորը գիտեին: գնացի զուգարան, ինձ հարդարեմ ու գնամ տուն: իմ հետևից նա մտավ, ես սկսեցի վախենալ, իսկ ինքը մոտենում էր ավելի, ու ժպտում: գրկեց ինձ, ես լացում էի, ձեռքերով խփում, փորձում ազատվել: գոռում էի, բայց երաժշտությունն էր բարձր թե ինչ, տենց էլ ոչ ոք չեկավ:
ու վերջում եղավ բռնաբարությունը, իսկ ես կույս էի: նա արյունը տեսավ, վախեցավ: մազերս քաշեց ասեց «մեկը իմացելա կոկորդդ կկտրեմ, հասկացար?»:
ընտանիքս չիմացավ, ոչ ոք չիմացավ: դե որտև մայրս կասեր ես եմ մեղավոր, ինչի եմ գնացել ընդեղ: իսկ ես էդ դեպքից հետո 3 ամիս տանից դուրս չեկա:
փորձեցի ինքնասպան լինեմ, դեղեր խմեցի: արթնացա հիվանդանոցում, իսկ տնեցիք կարծեցին որ ուղղակի հիմար դեռահաս եմ որը որոշելա մեռնել:
անցավ գնաց: բոլորի հետ կապը կտրեցի, տղամարդկանց շրջանցում էի, չէի խոսում հետները: 2 տարի անց սկսեցի աշխատել որ հոգեբանի գնալու փող ունենամ, էլ ապրել չէի ուզում:
փորձում էի գեղեցիկ չհագնվեմ,չշպարվեմ, որ չնկատվեմ:
4 տարի անց, քիչ քիչ հաղթահարեցի վախս տղաների հետ շփվելու: բայց մեկա, շատ շատ լարված եմ, երբ շուրջս քիչ վստահելի տղամարդիկ կան:
շնորհակալ եմ որ հնարավորություն ունեցա թեկուզ 5 տարի անց կիսվելու: էն ինչ դու անում ես էս ամենը բարձրաձայնելով աննկարագրելիա»։
“I was 15 and was friends with people who were two to three years older than me. It was one friend’s 18th birthday; they were celebrating in a pub. I was happy that they treated me like I was their age and invited me. I went and met their other friends. There was loud music and alcohol, but I didn’t drink. One boy seemed interested in me and he kept wanting me to drink, but drinking was unpleasant for me, so I decided it was time to go home. For the judgmental people out there: no, I was not wearing a short skirt, I was not drunk, I was not smoking, and everyone there knew my age. I went to the toilet to wash up and go home.
That boy entered the toilet after me. I was frightened, and he kept getting closer to me and smiling. He embraced me and I was already crying, hitting him with my fists, trying to break free. I was screaming, but I suppose the music was too loud and no one came. He raped me. I was a virgin. When he saw the blood, he became frightened. He pulled my hair and said, “If anyone finds out I’ll cut your throat. Understood?” My family never found out, no one found out. Because my mother would have said that it was my fault: “Why did you go there?”
I didn’t leave the house for three months. I tried to kill myself. I overdosed on pills and woke up in the hospital. My family thought I was just a stupid teenager who decided to die. I cut off ties with everyone, I avoided men, and I didn’t speak to them. Two years later, I found a job so that I could afford to see a psychologist because I didn’t want to live. I tried to not dress up, to not be cheerful, to not be noticed. It’s now been four years and I am gradually overcoming my fear of interacting with men. But still, I am very, very anxious when there are men I don’t trust around me. Thank you for the opportunity to share this story. What you are doing is incredible.”
— Lucy Kocharyan, Facebook, July 3, 2019
Another woman described abuse she suffered as a child:
«Ես 8տարեկան էի, մենք վարձակալներ ունեինք մեր բակում,կին ու ամուսին,միշտ իրանց հետ խոսում էի, իրանք էլ իբր ինձ շատ էին սիրում , որովհետև խելոք երեխա էի, դաստիարակված))))
Մի անգամ իրանց տան մոտով անցնում էի ամուսինը ասեց արի քեզ բան եմ ցույց տալիս, գնացի(որովհետև ինձ սովորեցրել էին, որ մեծերին չի կարելի հակաճառել) հարցրեցի բա կինն ուր ա, ասեց հեսա կգա։” Տես մեր առաստաղին ինչքան ճանճեր կան, վերցրու ես շլյոպկան ու ինձ օգնի սատկացնենք” վերցրեցի, ինձ գրկեց, իբր որ բոյս հասնի….գրկել էր տուտուզից, ու սկսեցի զգալ իրա մատերը ոտքերիս արանքում, ու զգում էի որ մի բան են չի ,զզվելի ժպիտով ինձ էր նայում ու ծանր շնչում, ասեցի ուզում եմ իջնեմ,գնամ դասերս չեմ արել, իջեցրեց նստեցրեց իրա գիրկը ու սկսեց վիզս համբուրել,զզվելի ծանր շնչելով ու ասում էր գիտես քեզ ինչքան եմ սիրում, քեզ ինչքան եմ սիրում…,
ես իջա , ու փախա….գնացի տուն, երևի դեմքիս լրիվ գրված էր, մամաս ասեց ուր էիր, ասեցի…”բայց կինը տանը չի…Ինչ գործ ունեիր ամուսնու հետ մենակ…” , “ինձ գրկել էր ու ճանճերին էինք սատկացնում..” , ես ինձ ետ ամենին մասնակից էի զգում, ոնց որ թե ես էի մեղավոր ու ետ տխմար հետ գաղտնի զզվել պակտի մեջ էի….են ինչ ասեց մամաս ինձ վերջնականապես համոզեց նրա մեջ , որ ես էի մեղավոր եղածի մեջ, ասեց “ԼԿՏԻ” ու են հայացքը որով նայեց մամաս, երբեք չեմ մոռանա…երբեք…»։
“I was 8 years old, we had lodgers in our yard – a husband and wife… I always spoke to them, and they supposedly liked me a lot, because I was a well behaved child))))
One day I was walking by their house and the husband said ‘Come here, I want to show you something,” and I went (because I was taught to obey my elders). I asked, ‘Where is your wife?’ He said, ‘She’s coming home now. See how many flies are on the ceiling? Grab the fly swatter and help me kill them.’ I took the swatter and he held me to lift me up. He was holding me by my butt, and I began to feel his fingers between my legs, and I could sense that something was not right. He was looking at me with a disgusting smile and breathing heavily. I said that I wanted to come down so that I could go and do my homework. He let me down and sat me on his lap and began kissing my neck with his disgusting heavy breathing, telling me, ‘You know how much I like you…’
I came down and ran home. Maybe everything was written on my face because my mother asked me where I was, and I told her. She said, ‘But his wife is not home. What business do you have alone with that man?’ I said, ‘He was holding me and we were killing flies.’ I felt like an accomplice in the incident, as though it was my fault, and that I was in a secret, disgusting pact with that stupid man. What my mother said to me convinced me of that; that what happened was my fault.
She said ‘PERVERT’, and I will never forget the look on her face. Ever.”
— Lucy Kocharyan, Facebook, July 3, 2019
This man recollected an incident from when he was a teenager:
«Մի անգամ կանգառում սպասում էի, մեքենա մոտեցավ ու մի տղամարդ, հարցրեց ուր եմ գնում, ասեց նստեմ կտանի: Սկզբից մերժեցի, բայց համոզեց հետո, ասեց հարևան մարդ ա, ճանաչում ա ընտանիքիս ու նույն ուղղությամբ ա գնում, խնդիր չկա:
Հիմար երեխա էի, նստեցի: Սկսեց տարբեր բաներ պատմել ու խոսել, հետո գնաց սեռական թեմաներին: Պատուհանին կպած նստել էի, երազում էի արագ հասնենք գնամ: Մեկ էլ ձեռքս տարավ առնանդամին, ասեց «գիտեմ ուզում ես հետը խաղաս»: Մինչ ես քարացած ուշքի էի գալիս, ինքը պատմում էր որ կին ունի ու պետք ա մի օր կազմակերպել, որ երեքով հանդիպենք «լավ ժամանակ անցկացենք»:
Տեղ հասանք, գնացի ու փորձեցի կյաքում չհիշել դա: Էդ մարդուն էլ երբեք չհանդիպեցի մեր բակերում, բայց միշտ սովորություն էր աջ ու ձախ նայել: Մեկ էլ տեսար: Դեռ անչափահաս էի, տարիներ են անցել, ոչ ոքի չեմ պատմել:
Չեմ պատմել մի հրեշավոր պատճառով, անիծյալ պատճառով… Երբ մի հասարակությունում արական սեռի կենդանին մանկուց դաստիարակվում ա ոնց բռնարար ու բռնաբար դառնա, բայց զոհ ա դառնում, պատմի ավելի կթիրախավորվի: Նշանակում ա ինքը այլևս գայլերի ոհմակից չի, իրեն էլ կարելի ա «որսալ»:
“I was waiting at the bus stop and a car approached and the driver asked me where I was going; he told me to get in, as he'd take me there. I refused at first, but he convinced me. He said he was my neighbour, that he knows my family and that he was going in the same direction, and there was no problem. I was a stupid child, so I got in. He began to talk about different things and then started talking about sexual topics. I was leaning up against the window and praying that we arrive soon so that I could leave. He then took my hand and pulled it towards his penis and said, ‘I know you want to play with it.’ While I was frozen and trying to come to my senses, he was talking about how he had a wife and that one day the three of us should get together and ‘have a good time.’ We got to my destination and I left and tried to forget what happened once and for all. I never saw that man near our building, I had the habit of looking left and right. I never knew if I’d see him again. I was still a kid; it’s been years since that happened, but I haven’t told anyone. I haven’t told anyone also for a very grotesque and vile reason. When a male grows up in a society and is taught from childhood how to be violent, how to be a rapist, but then becomes a victim himself, if he talks about, he will be even more of a target. That means that he is no longer a member of the wolf pack. That means that he can also be ‘hunted.’”
— Lucy Kocharyan, Facebook, July 2, 2019
One man wrote about a friend who was assaulted in the army:
«Դե լավ։ Որ հերթը հասավ տղաներին, ես էլ պատմեմ։
Ընկերոջս բանակ էին ճանապարհում, շատ պաթոսի հետևից չընկնեմ՝ օտպուսկ եկավ, շատ դեպրեսված էր, ես իրան ընդհանրապես էդ ձև չէի ճանաչում, ոնց որ մի տարի կուբախտում անցկարած լիներ։ Ինչ անում էի, մի բառ հետս չէր խոսում թե ինչի համար ա էդ վիճակում։ 2 տարի անցավ, ետ եկավ։ Գալու օրը լաաավ հարբել էր, ուզում էր իրան վնաս տար, ինքնասպան լիներ։ Մի ձև բրիտվեն ձեռքից վեկալեցի։ Հանգստացավ սկսեց խոսալ, ընկերոջս բանակում 3 հոգով բռնաբարել էին, որտեղից որ հնարավոր է։ ստիպել էին, որ կոշիկները լիզեր, անդամները 2 հոգով միանգամից մցրել էին հետանցքը ու բերանը։ Ահավոր ա հիմա որ հիշում եմ ինչ վիճակ էր իրա մոտ։ 5 տարի ա անցել, հիմա ուրիշ երկրոմ է։ Հետը շատ չեմ շփվում, բայց երևում է որ անդառնալի հետքեր չեն թողել, կամ էլ թողել են ես չեմ նկատում
Ինքը գյուղից էր, ոստիկանության մասին խոսք էլ չէր կարող լիներ։ Ավելի ուշ էլ իմացա, որ եռյակից 2ը դատվել են նույն բռնաբարության հոդվածով։ Էս անգամ զոհը չէր լռել։
Իմ սուբյեկտիվ կարծիքով, սենց դեպքեր ահռելի շատ են։
Անանուն, խնդրում եմ։ Չեմ ուզում ընկերս տեսնի, հասկանա որ իր մասին է խոսքը»։
“Now that it’s the men’s turn I also want to tell a story. My friend went to the army and a bit later, when he came back on leave, he was very depressed. I didn’t know him that well, but it was as if he had come out of prison. He didn’t say a single word to me about why he was so depressed, no matter what I did. Two years passed and he came back. The day he returned he got reallllllly drunk and tried to kill himself. Somehow, I was able to take the razor from his hand. He calmed down and began to speak. Three men raped him, in every way that you can imagine. They made him lick their shoes. Two of them would rape him simultaneously from behind and then orally. It’s dreadful remembering the state he was in. Five years have passed, and he is now in a different country. I don’t interact with him that often, but it seems that no irreversible damage was done to him, or maybe I just don’t know better. He was from a village. Taking this to the police was not even an option. I later found out that one of the three men had been convicted of rape in another case. Only this time, the survivor wasn’t silent. In my subjective opinion, these incidents are huge in number. [Keep it] anonymous, please. I don’t want my friend to see and figure out that this is about him.”
— Lucy Kocharyan, Facebook, July 2, 2019

author: Karena Avedissian


text:
‘No Visa Mix’: Tanzanian singeli stars denied visas to US music festival · Global Voices
Amanda Lichtenstein

MCZO (left) and DJ DUKE (right) are rising singeli artists from Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. They were denied a visa to perform at the Red Bull Music Festival in New York City, US. Photo by Kasia Zacharko, used with permission via On the Sly Productions.
DJ Duke and MCZO, two Tanzanian rising stars of pulse-raising singeli music genre, were denied a visa to the United States in May after a months-long visa application process.
The two musicians were set to perform at the Red Bull Music Festival in New York City, US, in May 2019. The US embassy in Dar es Salaam denied them visas after an application process that the pair say cost them “more than our combined families make in a year.”
Nyege Nyege Tapes’ Duke and MCZO refused entry into the United States https://t.co/nS2lGzyMLW pic.twitter.com/sGXuohdjfY
— Junior Santos ?? (@Knoxx_dj) May 20, 2019
According to Tamizdat, an organization working on visa and mobility issues for artists, the US issues two types of visas for performing artists: “O” visas for those who can show “extraordinary ability,” and “P” visas for members of “internationally recognized entertainment groups” or “culturally unique programs.”
The US embassy denied MCZO and DJ Duke visas on the grounds that:
The applicants in this case were refused 214(b) because they have not overcome the presumption that they are intending immigrants…
DJ Duke and MCZO are signed to the Ugandan record label Nyege Nyege Tapes, whose website describes them as “punkish and fast (even by Singeli standards)” artists who “take things to the next level if that was even possible with it comes to singeli music.”
Mfaume Mwafyaga, aka MCZO, and Nassoro Rajabu Ally, aka DJ Duke, both in their 20s, come from the Mburahati neighborhood of Dar es Salaam, the cultural capital of Tanzania, where Duke runs Pamoja Records. The two have been part of an underground singeli scene twisting old sounds into new music — at break-neck speeds.
The two held out hope of performing in NYC until the last minute. When it was clear that they would not get visas to perform, they issued a statement — and a mix they call the “No Visa Mix”:
…In the end, NOTHING could prove that we did not intend to run away illegally once checked in at our Holiday Inn. As two … Tanzanian boys with no secondary school education, not a single property in our name, not a shilling in our pocket, and no family in America, the consular authorithies seemed to sincerely think that there was a ‘better life’ available for us there that we would not resist to chase.
But the current situation in America does not indicate any sign that we would find more freedom, happiness and success there, or does it?
The two rising stars say they can “fill stadiums in Dar es Salaam,” with a growing fan base hungry for their frenetic, high-speed Singeli beats, featured most recently on Duke's new album, “Uingizaji Hewa.”
“Singeli is the ecstatic underground sound bubbling away in Tanzania's most populous city.” — The Boiler Room
How Tanzania's working class suburbs are bringing their sound to a global audience pic.twitter.com/wzQoKUBUmL
— BOILER ROOM (@boilerroomtv) November 29, 2018
They've performed around the world to rave reviews and have been featured in The Guardian and Pitchfork, which wrote:
Often overlaid with raspy, sped-up rapping, [DJ] Duke’s drums move so fast that they compress entire bars into the space of a single beat. … And when he really goes all out, it sounds like punk, basically, just arrived at by different means, but still fundamentally fast, cheap, and thrillingly out of control.
But the US embassy “still assumed we were going to run away and hide illegally in America, as two uneducated, non-English speaking Tanzanian boys,” they wrote in their statement, posted to Facebook and Soundcloud.
On July 3, The Guardian listed “No Visa Mix” as one of their top five mixes of the month:
The UK's The Guardian offers 5 mixes, including the very interesting NO VISA mix by Dar es Salaam duo DJ DUKE & MCZO, ambassadors for the East African SINGELI sound. #djduke #mczo #eastafrica #singeli https://t.co/sCvPR0dBbG
— Rob Smit (@robsmitleiden) July 4, 2019
African artists and intellectuals have long suffered from discrimination in the form of visa denial, amidst rising xenophobia and anti-immigration policies in Europe and North America.
US-based Tamizdat collects and analyzes data regarding US visa issues encountered by international performing artists. In their 2018 White Paper, they describe several issues with visa processing for artists including extreme delays in determination, vague terms, inaccurate information, confusing regulations, narrow definitions of artistry, rejection for minor clerical errors, and sudden announcements of new policies or interpretations of existing ones.
A similar situation prevails in the United Kingdom. “Obtaining visas for non-European artists coming to Britain has long been a nightmare, even for world-famous stars,” writes Ian Birrell in The Guardian.
In 2018, UK immigration authorities put African artists through such a grueling visa application process to attend the legendary arts and music festival WOMAD, that many ended up declining the invitation to attend.
“Culture is being crushed as politicians lurch to the right,” said WOMAD director Chris Smith to the Radio Times. “My fear is the situation is only going to get worse.”
In 2019, the UK's Home Office denied visas to academic researchers from Sierra Leone who were invited by a UK organization to attend a training on Ebola preparedness. The denials speak to an increasingly hostile stance toward immigration by the Home Office, whose denials have been described by one of the meeting organizers as “insulting” and “arbitrary.”
In 2017, the African Global Economic and Development Summit was held in California but no Africans could attend because they couldn't get visas. In the past, nearly 40% of invitees have been turned down, but in 2017, the US blocked 100% of the African visa applicants from attending an event that was all about Africa.
An annual Africa trade meeting was held with no Africans. Visas for all 100 African delegates were denied by the US. https://t.co/BZ34E1W4N0
— Ava DuVernay (@ava) March 19, 2017
On July 4, Ugandan artist Charity Atukunda recounted her personal experience with visa denial and restricted mobility in this powerful illustrated series. She writes:
My first experience of visa processing centers and the money-making machines they are was when I applied for a visa to South Africa in 2016. The system is designed in such a way that your whole life, your entire narrative on paper, has to make perfect sense to a stranger.
DJ Duke and MCZO expressed disappointment in their statement over their visa denial, thanking the people who tried to cut through the red tape on their behalf, including Red Bull representatives, On the Sly Productions, Covey Law firm and representatives from Nyege Nyege record label. They even thanked presidential candidate and New York Senator Kirsten Gillibrand.
In a gesture of goodwill, they released their singeli mixtape with special instructions:
We recorded a mix for you, make sure you listen with full, full volume and in clothes you can comfortably dance in…
They also wrote that they would be happy to share their culture and invite fans to Tanzania, where “we shall grant you a visa on arrival, no matter who you are — and trust that you shall not overstay.”
The two invited their fans to come to their performances, visit their studios and attend the Nyege festival in September in Uganda.
“Feel welcome! We love and respect you!” they wrote.
But the statement came with a sober request:
“For those of you who still think of artists escaping to America, think about it again. It doesn’t make sense and you’ll lose the chance to see amazing performances.”

author: Amanda Lichtenstein


text:
Post-election crackdown in Mauritania: Internet shutdown lifted, journalist remains in detention · Global Voices
Afef Abrougui

Election results were broadcast live on Facebook before Mauritanian authorities proceeded to shut down the internet. Source: Screenshot of a Facebook live broadcast by country's election commission.
Mauritanian authorities restored access to the internet after disrupting it for 10 days following the disputed presidential elections of June 23. However, the government continues to restrict press freedom and freedom of expression as part of its post-election crackdown.
Government-backed candidate, Mohamed Ould Ghazouani, garnered 52 percent of the vote, but widespread allegations of fraud have marred the election: Three opposition candidates, including anti-slavery activist Biram Dah Abeid — who came third with 18 percent of the votes — challenged the results before the Constitutional Council. Small protests disputing the results also took place in the capital, Nouakchott.
On Monday, July 1, the council dismissed the opposition’s appeal, confirming Ould Ghazouani as the country’s next president on the basis of insufficient evidence for the opposition’s allegations of fraud.
Ahmedou Ould al-Wadea, a presenter for Mauritanian TV channel Al Mourabitoun, was arrested from his home in the capital Nouakchott on July 3. Al-Wadea, who is known for his criticism of outgoing president Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz, remains in detention in an undisclosed location according to human rights groups. It remains unclear which charges he faces.
Al-Wadea was not the only journalist to be targeted in this post-election crackdown. On June 26, police arrested Seydi Moussa Camaras, another journalist known for his criticism of the government. Cameras is the director of publishing for the weekly independent newspaper La Nouvelle Expression. He spent a week in detention before he was released on July 3. According to Reporters Without Borders, state security agencies accused him of disputing the election results during phone calls:
RSF has learned that the state security agents who arrested Moussa at his home, seizing all of the mobile phones and laptops there, accused him of disputing the election results during phone conversations, suggesting that his calls had been tapped.
Several opposition figures were also arrested by the authorities, Amnesty said in a June 27 statement. These include Samba Thiam, the leader of the Forces progressistes pour le changement (Progressist forces for change), before he was released in early July.
Amid the crackdown, the government also resorted to shutting down the internet, before lifting lifting the ban on July 3.
The Ministry of the Interior reportedly ordered the shutdown for security reasons, although activists and human rights groups believe the real aim was to prevent the opposition from mobilizing protesters.
The government first disrupted access to mobile internet around mid-day local time on June 23, according to the Media Foundation for West Africa. Forty-eight hours later, they also disrupted access to fixed-line connections.
The disruptions affected all three of Mauritania’s internet service providers: Mauritel, Chinguitel, and Mattel. The companies did not provide a reason for the disruptions nor did they notify their users before they took place.
The disruptions affected the capabilities of opposition leaders from organizing and mobilising protesters, in a country where only 21 percent of its 4 million people have an internet connection.
It isolated Mauritanians from the rest of the world — particularly human rights defenders, opposition leaders, and journalists — greatly limiting their ability to access information and publish information about the government's crackdown on protesters, journalists, and the political opposition.

author: Afef Abrougui


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What happened after anti-extradition protesters broke into Hong Kong legislature? · Global Voices
Hong Kong Free Press

The banner says: There is no rioter but a ruthless government. Photo taken by Todd R. Darling/HKFP
The following post was written by Holmes Chan and originally published by Hong Kong Free Press (HKFP) on July 3 2019. This version is republished on Global Voices under a content partnership agreement.
The anti-extradition protests in Hong Kong took a violent turn on July 1, 2019, as protesters stormed the Legislative Council Complex by smashing the building's exterior glass panels, breaking the metal shutters and forcing the armed police officers from the inside to retreat with a smoke bomb.
The break-in decision was made in the protest area outside the Legislative Council in the afternoon of July 1 after a brief deliberation among a few hundred protesters. The collective decision was the culmination of a month-long escalation of protests against the extradition bill proposed by the Hong Kong government. Protesters have condemned Chief Executive Carrie Lam for failing to respond to any of their demands.
Around 9 p.m., protesters broke through the final barrier separating them and the interior of the city’s Legislative Council Complex and walked into an empty lobby. Within minutes, protesters began spray-painting slogans onto the corridor walls and vandalising the portraits of Legislative Council presidents. The main legislative chamber on the first floor, a space normally reserved for lawmakers, was broken into and occupied by 9:30 p.m.
Glass panels lining the building’s exterior smashed. Photo: Todd R. Darling / HKFP.
However, the demonstrators who entered the Legislative Council soon realised they were in uncharted waters, and HKFP witnessed the frantic – and at times heated – deliberations between protesters as to what to do next. Above all, they were asking themselves: stay or leave?
The protesters formed small groups in the Legislative Council chamber to discuss their next move. One protester shouted while standing on a table:
Call your comrades to come in here! We are not here to visit or to make ourselves feel good. We will stay for a long time, for long-term resistance… we will establish order, and will each take up our roles.
In a rare move, activist Leung Kai-ping removed his own mask and allowed himself to be photographed:
I took off my mask because I want to let everyone know that we Hongkongers have nothing more to lose.
He urged more people to join the occupation, saying that a larger turnout could guarantee the personal safety of protesters and give legitimacy in the public eye. Leung said:
If we don’t stay here, we will be painted as rioters on television tomorrow. Our faces have all been recorded. If we leave, Hong Kong’s civil society will go backwards ten years and we will never be back here.
Leung Kai-ping took off his face mask. Photo: Todd R. Darling / HKFP.
Between 9 p.m. and midnight, protesters took over the lower floors of the Legislative Council Complex, entering the antechamber, meeting rooms and various offices. Some left after hearing rumors that the police were on their way, only to return after finding out the messages were fake.
Despite the extensive graffiti and property damage, some areas were designated as off-limits, such as the documents in the library and the reporters’ room. The glass wall at the front of the library was smashed, but someone later put up a sign saying “no damaging books.” A shelf of antiques in the antechamber was also left untouched, with a sign saying, “don’t damage.”
One protester told reporters that the goal was to “reclaim the people’s legislature” instead of causing random destruction. Without a clear leader, the protesters initially held back from making any statements to the local and international press which had gathered. A few protesters led others in chanting slogans, such as “withdraw the extradition bill” and “Carrie Lam step down.”
In the Telegram channels used by protesters, some said that it should be up to those inside the legislature to decide what statement – if any – to make. Inspiration arrived in the form of crowd-sourced manifestos, which were posted by netizens across social media and especially in the Reddit-like discussion forum LIHKG.
At 10:20 p.m., one LIHKG user posted a widely-circulated statement which began:
We are protesters of the people. We had no other choice, it was not our wish to protest against tyranny with our own bodies, or to occupy the Legislative Council as a bargaining chip for negotiation.
The current administration no longer prioritises the interests of Hongkongers. To make our voices heard by the government, we had no way but to resort to various kinds of occupation and resistance, including the occupation of the Legislative Council today.
An hour after the statement was first published, a version of it was read aloud in the legislative chamber, in front of the podium where the Legislative Council president would sit.
Protesters made five core demands: withdraw the amendments to the extradition laws completely, do not classify past demonstrations as riots, drop all charges against those arrested in relation to the protests, set up an independent commission to investigate the use of force by the police, and call for fully democratic elections for the Legislative Council and the chief executive.
Various slogans had been spray-painted onto the podium at the front of the legislative chamber, and the emblem of Hong Kong had been defaced. One of the lesser-noticed slogans painted on a side panel said, “Sunflower HK.”
In 2014, anti-China activists in Taiwan occupied the main chamber of the legislature for three weeks, in what was later called the Sunflower Movement. Around 200 people were involved, and they were acquitted in court last year because judges ruled that the protest actions were “an expression of democracy.”
Those behind the July 1 occupation may have aspired to create Hong Kong’s equivalent of the Taiwanese movement – but that was not to be.
At 10:21 p.m., the police issued a video saying they would clear the area surrounding the Legislative Council “shortly,” a move that spurred protesters into debating their options for the next hour. Only about 20 were left in the legislative chamber, vastly outnumbered by reporters who were in yellow vests.
Protesters arrived at a consensus that people need to make a decision for themselves before midnight: those who wanted to leave should leave before then, and those who remained would be committed to staying for the long haul.
In theory, each protester could choose their level of participation, but this strategy quickly ran into a problem. Only a minority of people wanted to continue occupying the legislative chamber, but they would become vulnerable if everybody else left.
Protesters clear out of the Legislative Council chamber as police deploy tear gas against crowds on Lung Wo Avenue next to the complex.
? In full: https://t.co/kmLJLFCnSX pic.twitter.com/FNMPin22Cz
— Hong Kong Free Press (@HongKongFP) July 1, 2019
As their numbers dwindled in the chamber, one man made an emotional plea with a megaphone outside the legislature:
Some of us have decided to stay here to the last moment. So I call on everyone in Admiralty to do all they can to protect them… we can’t go home and watch their sacrifice from afar.
Minutes from midnight, one of the four final remaining occupiers told Apple Daily that he expected to “go to jail for eight or 10 years, and getting injured all over.” He said that he did not blame his fellow protesters for leaving, though he added that he depended on those staying downstairs in the protest zone for support. He said:
From June 9 till now, we have done so much, should we just let the movement cool down? Go home to sleep and declare the movement over?
The man said he was a 24-year-old father, and urged his children to reflect on what he did:
You can see what your father did, and see what it means to you… I can’t say if it’s right or wrong – you decide.
But before the four occupiers could make their last stand, events took a dramatic turn.
One minute past midnight, a swarm of people burst into the legislative chamber – protesters, not the police. They repeatedly shouted “leave together” and took away the four men by force. One of the final occupiers clung to a wooden banister, and had to be wrestled away and carried out.
One of the new arrivals told Stand News that protesters downstairs were afraid to come up to the chamber since police action was imminent and they could be blocked in. However, they took the risk to retrieve the occupiers out of solidarity.
We decided to come up together, and leave together with them. If they don’t leave, we don’t leave. We are all worried, but we are even more worried we won’t see them tomorrow.
Arriving from their headquarters in Wan Chai, police officers in riot gear had made it to the Legislative Council Complex by 00:15 a.m. They fired tear gas as protesters moved back towards Harcourt Road in Admiralty and then later dispersed.
None remained in the Legislative council when the police moved in. Photo: Kris Cheng / HKFP
After securing the premises, police conducted a search of the building to root out any lingering protesters. None remained.
For more about Hong Kong's anti-China extradition protest, visit Global Voices’ special coverage page.

author: Hong Kong Free Press


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‘A dangerous trend’: Pakistani journalists critical of the government and military targeted in Twitter campaign · Global Voices
Qurratulain (Annie) Zaman

The recent campaign was launched on Twitter by the pro-government account @Ik_Warriors. Screenshot taken on July 8 at 10:31 CEST.
As if threats from the authorities against press freedom and freedom of expression in Pakistan were not  enough, online nationalist vigilantes are also on the pry against journalists critical of the government.
On the eve of 5 July, #ArrestAntiPakJournalists trended on Twitter with over 28,000 tweets shared within few hours. The hashtag went viral soon after a Twitter account named Team #IK_Warriors posted a tweet calling for the arrest of journalists belonging to what they described as ”the pro-Indian, anti-Pak media group”. The tweet which called on others to join the campaign was accompanied by a photo of a list of journalists to be targeted.
The tweets were mainly targeting journalists who criticize the government and the military. Pakistan has a one-year-old government of Prime Minister Imran Khan, a cricketer-turned-politician. Khan's critics accuse him of being hand-picked by the military known as ‘fauj’. He is also known as ‘ladla’ or favorite of the military establishment.
IK is an abbreviation for his full name, Imran Khan. The accounts @IK_Warrior and @IK_Warriors have the picture of Khan and the logo of the ruling party Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaaf or PTI. “We are standing for the truth and right [sic]”, the bio of the @IK_Warriors account reads.
According to the Digital Rights Monitor that investigated the accounts behind the hashtag #ArrestAntiPakJournalists:
Hateful and inciteful campaigns targeting journalists, writers, and political opponents have become a common occurrence on digital platforms, especially Twitter. Despite assurances and actions by platforms, the human-bot accounts (often fake, and manned by humans) involved in initiating and amplifying these campaigns seem to be multiplying and gaining popularity.
Journalist Umer Ali who covers human rights, conflict and censorship expressed his concern on Twitter:
As if the ongoing crackdown against PTM, critical journalists, activists and politicians were not enough, the top Twitter trend in Pakistan is calling for further arrests of “anti-Pakistan” journalists.
— Umer Ali (@IamUmer1) July 4, 2019
PTM is the Pashtun Tahfuzz Movement, a civic grass root movement calling for an inquiry into the extra-judicial killings and abductions of Pashtun citizen by law-enforcement agencies.
Waqass Goraya, a Pakistani blogger currently living in self-exile in the Netherlands and who was targeted for his criticism of the military in 2017, told Global Voices:
We are witnessing unprecedented censorship and control by military both in online and offline spaces. The jobs of news editors are replaced with military oversight experts in media houses. Mainstream media houses invite ISPR or Inter Services Public Relations (military PR wing) approved guests on the TV shows. Any non-compliance results in outage of [the] channel. Channels go off air. Newspapers disappear before reaching end users.
These social media campaigns are planned, schemed, orchestrated carefully and launched systematically to scare and threaten in an attempt to suppress any critical voice. Many of these accounts are believed to be managed by students, fresh graduates or unemployed youth. Gharida Farooqi,  journalist and TV host at Express News who herself faced online harassment, explained that ”the youth take this as a lucrative opportunity and are used as propaganda tools for certain quarters of the ruling elite”. She told Global Voices:
Labelling journalists “anti-Pakistan,” “anti-State,” “anti-nation,” “anti-Islam,” “anti-democracy,” is not new however, the use of social media for unfurling this propaganda is relatively new. The recent trend seen on Twitter ArrestAntiPakJournalists was an off-shoot of this approach, narrative and thinking. Any journalist who is “found” to be raising questions on the working of government and state-institutions especially military establishment is immediately labeled and bracketed in any one of the above term.
Mubashir Bukhari, executive editor of the Truth Tracker, a magazine covering ”transparency, governance and accountability in Pakistan”, described the campaign as part of a ”dangerous trend” in the country. He said in an interview with Global Voices:
Anyone who gives an alternate solution to the policies of the government or the military is labeled as anti-Pakistan or a traitor. Such trends are not only threatening and intimidating journalists but also putting the life of journalists at risk. Current situation is worse than what happened during the military dictator Zia Ul Haq’s time back in the 1980s.
According to the Committee to Protect Journalists or CPJ there is a rising trend of censorship under pressure from the military in Pakistan. In a report published in 2018, the press freedom advocacy group  documented several violations committed by the military:
As killings of journalists in Pakistan decline so too does press freedom, as the country’s powerful military quietly, but effectively, restricts reporting by barring access, encouraging self-censorship through direct and indirect acts of intimidation, and even allegedly instigating violence against reporters. Journalists who push back or are overly critical of authorities are attacked, threatened, or arrested.
In this climate of censorship, online campaigns aimed at silencing journalists will only contribute to the decline of press and media freedoms in the country. There were already reports that Jang Group journalists Wajih Sani, Umar Cheema and Azaz Syed, who were among the journalists targeted by the #ArrestAntiPakJournalists campaign had deactivated their Twitter accounts.
Global Voices reached out to Syed and Cheema but they were not available for comments.

author: Qurratulain (Annie) Zaman


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As Tanzania bans plastic bags, activists launch 300 youth environmental clubs in Dar es Salaam · Global Voices
Goodhope Amani

Abdalah Nyambi (left) collects plastic bottles as he and members of his environmental organization prepare to turn it to pavement. Photo by Goodhope Amani, used with permission.
On June 1, the Tanzanian government banned the use of plastic bags, joining 33 other African nations in an effort to put an end to single-use, disposable plastic products. But plastic waste is still abundant in the country and leading environmental youth activists hope that one day Tanzania will be completely free of single-use plastic products.
Liberatha Kawamala, 24, is an environmental activist at the forefront of environmental activism in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania’s cultural capital. A former logistics and transportation major, Kawamala now spends her days as the leader of over 300 environmental clubs, teaching future generations about the importance of nature conservation with a focus on the threat of single-use plastics on Tanzania's rich ecosystems, both land and sea:
We need more efforts in making changes.. children of this century should start learning more things as entrepreneur from school practical things,and how the system changes https://t.co/n831CzhcBO
— Liberatha Kawamala (@LiberathaKawam1) July 6, 2019
The coastal city of Dar es Salaam is the largest in Tanzania — and rapidly growing. The last national census in 2012 estimated the population at 4.3 million. Waste management is a major problem, especially in the squatter settlements — where 70 to 80 percent of the urban population lives — without essential infrastructure and waste collection services.
The 2017 National Environmental Statistics Report showed that by 2017, Dar es Salaam was generating more than 4,600 tons of waste per day, and it predicted that it will produce more than 12,000 tons of waste per day by 2025.
Side view of the Msimbazi river in Dar es Salaam flooded with plastic waste. Photo by Goodhope Amani, used with permission.
In November 2018, Kawamala attended an Arts, Creativity, and Innovation for Sustainable Development exhibition organized by United Nations Tanzania in Dar es Salaam, hoping to connect with like-minded people. There, she met Abdalah Nyambi, 26, a third-year university student, who also makes plastic flowers made from recycled materials.
The two decided to collaborate to change young people’s perceptions of plastic waste.
Together, they established Plastic Recycle and Youth Organization (PREYO), and Kawamala and Nyambi now aim to generate income from their recycled plastic products while also educating young people on the importance of nature conservation through youth environmental clubs. Kawamala says:
“I studied logistics and transport management, but my passion led me to take [on the] environment. Many people ask me why [I took] logistics [because] it does not connect to [the] environment. I said if you have a passion for something, you better do it.
Liberatha Kawamala (right) and company showing pavement made from plastic waste, Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, June 2019. Photo by Goodhope Amani, used with permission.
Kawamala spends most of her time now advocating for environmental preservation. She partners with organizations like the Jane Goodall Institute to establish 300 environment clubs in primary schools, where she teaches the importance of nature conservation, gardening, tree planting, fighting against plastic waste and proper waste disposal.
Makumbusho primary school environment club, one among 300 clubs in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, June 2019.  Photo by Goodhope Amani, used with permission.
We need collective actions against plastic waste. As rural-urban migration is increasing, let's nurture our kids to see the need for conserving the environment. @LiberathaKawam1 @OlumideIDOWU @JMakamba @UNEnvironment @IGEReport @Alvaro_UNTZ @ElkanaCK pic.twitter.com/zs29Hz07Oc
— goodhope (@goodhopepraygod) July 4, 2019
In early May, Prime Minister Kassim Majaliwa announced the ban on single-use plastic beginning June 1, following in the footsteps of Kenya and Rwanda. Tanzania is the 34th country in Africa to impose a plastics ban, with Africa leading the world on such measures, according to the United Nations Environmental Program.
Majaliwa announced that from June 1, it will be illegal to buy, sell and import any kind of plastic bag under the Plastic Carrier Bags Regulation 2019. Anyone manufacturing or importing plastic bags and wrappings can be fined of up to 1 billion Tanzanian shillings [$435,285 USD] or imprisoned for two years, or both. Individual possession and use can result in fines of up to 200,000 TZS [$100 USD], imprisonment up to even days, or both, according to The Citizen.
Member of Parliament January Makamba confirmed the historic legislation on Twitter:
Official government notice to travelers planning to visit Tanzania in the wake of plastic bags ban. pic.twitter.com/uyOcJ3b7W4
— January Makamba (@JMakamba) May 15, 2019
Many Tanzanian netizens applauded the move:
Proud of my home country Tanzania which has announced that a ban on single-use plastic bags will come into effect shortly. @JMakamba looking forward to more updates on this exciting development! #CleanSeashttps://t.co/Dibk3aQNNr
— Joyce Msuya (@JoyceMsuya) April 9, 2019
Monica Adam Mgata, a standard five primary student and member of her school environmental club, which they call “Roots and Shoots,” believes that students have a great contribution to make to environmental conservation and that banning plastic bags is a good first step. Mgata says:
Plastic bags take a long time to decompose and also affects soil fertility. I advise fellow students not to use single plastics bags and bottles.
According to the 2018 United Nations Environment Program report, experts predict that up to 12 billion tons of plastic waste will be generated by 2050 unless initiatives to manage and limit its production are implemented.
Most single-use plastics never decompose, polluting and distorting ecosystems on both land and water.
Student from Canosa high school they have lernt on the history, advantage, disadvantage, types of plastic we use in our daily life, practical of upcyling waste plastic bottles into different shapes and appreciation to Tanzania @JMakamba @JoyceMsuya #BeatPlasticPollution pic.twitter.com/3gnuAErjQz
— Liberatha Kawamala (@LiberathaKawam1) June 14, 2019
Abdalah thinks that people are passionate about the environment but that they need environmental education, particularly when it comes to the benefits of conserving the environment. Nyambi says:
People lack knowledge. If we start educating them, I think they’ll become familiar with environmental issues and start becoming sustainable.

author: Goodhope Amani


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Azerbaijani artists win fight to save a prayer house-turned-cinema from demolition · Global Voices
Arzu Geybullayeva

Baku’s Molokan House, previously a place of worship and now an independent art space. Photo by Leyli Gafarova/OC Media, used with permission.
A community of artists and filmmakers in Baku, Azerbaijan, seem to have won a weeks-long battle with the authorities to halt the demolition of the Molokan House, a century-old building that houses the underground movie theatre Salaam Cinema.
Borrowing the name from Mohsen Makhmalbaf's 1995 film “Hello Cinema“, Salaam Cinema is one of Baku's few independent cultural spaces — besides screening films, it regularly hosts performing arts, exhibitions, and workshops. The initiative was founded three years ago by Leyli Gafarova and her husband Ilkin Huseynov, a local couple who had at that time moved back from the EU.
“We wanted to screen movies in buildings which were already used as film theaters; we started renting a small room inside the Veten film theater but then the theater was destroyed [in 2017] and we lost our space,” recalls Leyli in an interview with Global Voices.
In early 2019, they managed to rent the Molokan House, a building constructed in 1913 as a prayer house for Azerbaijan’s small Molokan community, a Russian sect banished to the South Caucasus in the 19th century. After the Bolsheviks took over, the building was handed to the Radio Broadcasting company who used it to host the radio show “Danışır Bakı” (Baku on Air). With the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the house remained more or less abandoned until 2018, when Salaam Cinema moved in.
“We knew from the very beginning that the landlord wanted to destroy the space because that's what he did [for a living]; he demolishes old buildings, builds new ones and then sells them,” says Leyli. “He also didn't understand what we were planning on doing there. When we told him we planned screening films, having discussions and workshops he thought we were going to make films inside the building and so he kept asking what movies we were going to shoot inside and so on,” she continues.
After the space was finally rented in 2019, the group began setting up a tea house on the first floor and use the second floor to host screenings, exhibitions, and a co-working space. By March 2019, much of the renovation work had been completed and the Salaam Cinema team went on vacation to celebrate Novruz, the Azerbaijani and Persian new year festival.
When they returned from the holiday, the team found the first floor of the building completely destroyed. The landlord soon informed the group that they were to vacate the building as it was scheduled for demolition.
Little did he know that the community wouldn’t back down so easily. For weeks, the space's supporters camped inside the building, while letters were signed and petitions sent to all government institutions. Their appeals stressed that they were fighting not only to save a popular cultural venue but to preserve yet another piece of Baku’s architectural heritage from vanishing forever.
It was not until Azerbaijan’s first lady Mehriban Aliyeva stepped in that the landlord had to take a step back. In a statement released on May 8, shortly after she had been sent an appeal by the artists, Aliyeva noted the importance of protecting Azerbaijan’s cultural heritage.
An intervention from somebody widely regarded as Azerbaijan’s most powerful woman proved to be crucial. On May 30, the State Service for the Protection, Development, and Restoration of Cultural Heritage under the Ministry of Culture added the building to the list of newly discovered historical sites.
To ensure that the building was also placed under state protection, the Ministry of Culture appealed to the Cabinet of Ministers on June 3. Before their final decision, the Cabinet of Ministers inquired with the National Academy of Sciences (AMEA) to express their opinion on the building's historical significance, and on June 28 AMEA confirmed that the building is indeed a historical monument and referred the case back to the Ministry of Culture. According to a statement issued by AMEA, the Ministry of Culture will soon present the final documentation to Azerbaijan’s Cabinet of Ministers for a final decision.
Leyli says that although the final decision has not yet been made, Salaam Cinema has kept busy. Its artists and volunteers have continued holding events and working on renovating the building. With the assistance of Sabina Fakhraddin Abbasova, a Baku-based architect and urbanist, they have also developed a plan for a community garden outside the building.
The garden and a new cafe are part of a new initiative by Salaam Cinema focused on historical and natural conservation. Their first event dedicated to the topic was held on July 6 at the Molokan House.
Members of the Salaam Cinema commune construct a cafe near the former prayer house. Photo by Leyli Gafarova/OC Media, used with permission.
The Salaam Cinema's story is one of a community of young, passionate Azerbaijanis who wanted to preserve a historical building and a cherished communal space they had worked hard to create. It attests to the importance of spaces where young people can come together, talk, work on their own projects, watch films, attend workshops, and simply enjoy their youth.
Greater things than mere survival are in store for the Salaam Cinema: as Leyli noted in a 2017 interview with the organizers of Azerbaijan’s Youth Film Festival, she hopes that the Salaam Cinema can become “an independent film theater, holding exhibitions, festivals, and educational programs.”
If Leyli achieves her vision, this two-story commune of artists may come to play an even more important role for the capital’s cultural life. In a city fast becoming unrecognizable, it is all the more important to remember that skyscrapers are not the limit.

author: Arzu Geybullayeva


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China’s censored histories: The struggle to carry memories of the Tiananmen Massacre into the future · Global Voices
Citizen Lab

Chinese Internet users post 1989 Tiananmen Square Massacre artwork, music, and memes. Image from Weiboscope.
To mark the 30th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre, research teams at the University of Hong Kong's Weiboscope and the University of Toronto's Citizen Lab gathered a collection of June 4 related content that is censored on social media in China. We explain our analysis of the censored contents in a series of articles published on Global Voices. The first post was published on April 17 and the second on June 27.
For thirty years the Communist Party of China and citizens have been locked in a struggle over the memory of the Tiananmen Square Massacre of June 4, 1989. Every year, around late May, the state censorship machine gears up to stop memorials of the incident from surfacing online and offline. Nevertheless, citizens continue to engage in acts of remembrance manifested in annual commemorations, historical preservations, music, and online memes. Citizen Lab and Weiboscope’s collection of censored content related to June 4 provides a view into this struggle.
Books and documentaries that document and analyze the history and outcomes of the Tiananmen student democracy movement are heavily censored on social media in China. Censored content includes references to The Gate of Heavenly Peace, a book by historian Jonathan D. Spence on Chinese revolutions, and a film of the same name by American filmmaker Carma Hinton that chronicles the student protests and military crackdown.
On the Chinese microblogging social media platform Weibo, users collectively gather historical information from a grassroots perspective, including numbers of deaths and injuries, confrontations between the military and the protestors, eyewitness testimonies, and timelines of the protest movement and the ensuing massacre. Many June 4 related posts on Weibo that are censored include information on the event supported by validated sources, including journalistic coverage, video footage, photographs, books, archives, and documents. Despite the pervasive censorship, these posts signal disagreement with state propaganda aimed at covering up the facts surrounding the massacre.
Artists also used music and other forms of expression to remember June 4 over the past 30 years. Musicians from mainland China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan voiced some of the strongest support for victims of the Tiananmen Square massacre and democracy movements in China. Posts censored on Weibo between June 1st and June 4th of each year between 2012 and 2018, include album covers and photos of artists such as Beijing-based Chinese rock music pioneer Cui Jian, Hong Kong singer Anita Mui Yim-fong, and Taiwanese singer and songwriter Lo Ta-yu who all made popular songs to commemorate the event.
The user caption reads: “Sharing Cui Jian’s song ‘Nothing to my name’: I would like to dedicate this song to the students”. (Shared on June 3, 2014 and censored the following day.) Image from Weiboscope.
User caption reads: “Sharing Luo Ta-you’s song ‘Beijing Night’: Today, listen to this song: the wind is rustling, the rain is thundering, the thunder is murderous, the murderous smoke is heavy, the vocals, the drums, the noise, hot, hot, the singer, the singer, the singer, They come from above and below, on the ground and underground. They have been hiding for thousands of years and have been quiet”. (Shared on June 4, 2014 and censored on the same day.) Image from Weiboscope.
Keywords found to be censored on social media include references to songs like “Mother, I have done nothing wrong” (妈妈我没有做错), by Hong Kong rock and roll artist Danny Summer, and “There Should Be Love in June” (六月里应该有爱), by Chinese punk band Punkgod. Both songs were written on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Movement in 2009. Danny Summer, known in some circles as the godfather of rock and roll in Hong Kong, wrote the song to show support and sympathy for mainland students who participated in the protests in 1989. Punkgod, a band from Jiangxi in Southeast China, dedicated an entire album to commemorate the Tiananmen Movement on its 20th anniversary in 2009.
Each year, Chinese netizens attempt to dodge social media censorship by posting memes that symbolize June 4. Weibo posts collected by Weiboscope in 2012-2018 and made available to the public this year, show a range of creative ways adopted by users to outsmart Chinese censors. Much of this content make references to the tanks used by the government in the military crackdown on civilians. Posts playfully arrange cigarette packages, yellow duck toys, books, logos, and other objects to make subtle references to the iconic photo of Tank Man standing in front of a line of tanks at Tiananmen Square. Other posts share comics and artwork that generally depict tanks.
An abstract painting of a tank with a user caption that has nothing to do with the June 4 incident. (Shared on June 4, 2012 and censored on June 6, 2012.) Image from Weiboscope.
An image of cigarette packages made to look like tanks with a user caption that reads “today is the international No Smoking Day, please don't smoke”. (Shared on June 4, 2016 and censored the same day.) Image from Weiboscope.
There are also more straightforward displays of commemoration including photos showing performing artists carving the numbers six and four on a brick, and a group of poets with their faces masked while attending a small gathering at the Great Wall in Beijing in 2013.
Artists’ performance. Shared on June 3, 2013 and censored on June 6, 2013. Image from Weiboscope.
Keyword data from Citizen Lab demonstrates how Chinese netizens use coded language to refer to June 4. Many keywords use Roman numerals and combinations of numbers to reference June 4 such as “VI IV”, “VIIIIX VI IV”, “1+3”, “32×2”. Other keywords use less obvious codes like “*(^$” a string of special characters that represents the numbers 8964 on the keyboard.
Users also make creative use of Chinese characters to refer to the event. Most Chinese characters consist of several smaller characters that can be broken down into components and radicals. Users break down sensitive keywords into individual characters and components in an attempt to evade censorship. For instance, “20周年纟己念氵舌云力建讠义” (20th anniversary commemoration suggestions) breaks down the characters “纪念活动建议” ( jǐ niàn huó dòng jiàn yì, commemoration suggestions) into their individual components and radicals “纟己念氵舌云力建讠义” (sī jǐ iàn shuǐ shé yún lì jiàn yán yì).
Since June 4 1989, the Chinese government has aggressively attempted to push the memory of the brutal crackdown away from the public mind through pervasive censorship. Lousia Lim, a veteran China correspondent found in a small experiment that only 15 of 100 students in China recognized the famous photo of Tank Man, and accounts from millennials in China portray a seeming indifference to government efforts to expunge the event from the collective consciousness. However, acts of memorial from tens of thousands of lit candles in Hong Kong's Victoria Park, sounds of a Cantonese pop song moving through the air, to playful images of the Tank man or simply “64” posted on Weibo show a continued effort to remember.
Note: In order to protect Weibo users’ privacy, all post accounts shown in screenshots are given pseudonyms.

author: Citizen Lab


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Should Trinidad and Tobago repatriate the families of ISIS recruits? · Global Voices
Jada Steuart

A screenshot from a YouTube video titled “Walk through Syria’s al-Hawl camp where thousands of Islamic State brides are held,” uploaded by ABC News (Australia), which shows the living conditions for the thousands of women and children inside the camp.
ISIS, the al-Qaeda offshoot that used to control large parts of Iraq and Syria using brutal, oppressive and violent tactics, lost control of these territories in January 2019. Since then, the families of many foreign ISIS militants have been left stateless.
Approximately 130 citizens from the Caribbean nation of Trinidad and Tobago have joined ISIS abroad —  the highest per capita source for recruits for the militant group in the Western hemisphere, catapulting Trinidad and Tobago into a debate over the repatriation of the dependents of ISIS recruits.
The exodus of fighters from the small Caribbean nation has declined since Syrian and American forces declared defeat over ISIS. Many of the militants, mostly men, have been arrested or killed, leaving behind wives and children. Their abandoned families now seek shelter and food in detention camps in Syria, most notably the al-Hol refugee camp in northeast Syria.
When Trinidad and Tobago's parliament met on July 2, 2019, Senator Wade Mark asked whether or not the government plans to facilitate the return of the families of foreign nationals who joined ISIS. National Security Minister Stuart Young replied that he had not yet received confirmation as to whether or not there were Trinidad and Tobago nationals at the camp.
The group Concerned Muslims of Trinidad & Tobago (CMTT), which maintains there are at least 40 children and 16 women at the al-Hol camp with ties to Trinidad and Tobago, has asked the government to assist in the return of these nationals. However, Minister Young has made it clear that the country must go through security protocols before making any decisions on their return:
This al-Hol refugee camp houses persons who fled from ISIS war zones, and the first thing the government has to do is a verification exercise. The government has policies and procedures which we have implemented, including the use of Team Nightingale, which is a multi-agency task force comprising the Children's Authority, Counter Trafficking Unit, counter-terrorism units, TTPS, TT Defence Force, Immigration, persons from Ministry of National Security and other agencies [and] our intelligence services.
Young could not say how long the process would take, but some members of the local Muslim community have voiced their concerns about the women and children, who are reportedly living in uninhabitable conditions at the camp. Describing the situation as a humanitarian crisis, Trinidadian Imam Sheraz Ali recently made a TV appearance in which he said that many of the women and children who went to Syria did so against their will.
In a March 2019 report, The New York Times said that the camp held 72,000 people. More recent investigations by France 24 say that the number has increased to 100,000 people, in the camps and surrounding areas. The al-Hol camp dwellers comprise people from all over the world, some of whom refuse to return home and others who are desperate to leave.
Only a few official reports indicate Trinidadian women and children in the camp — actual numbers are not known. In early 2019, however, a Trinidadian mother finally reunited with her two young sons after their father abducted them and took them to Syria. Human rights lawyer Clive Stafford Smith organised the rescue mission and later criticised the Trinidad and Tobago government for its lack of support, even though a press release by the Ministry of National Security claimed a role in the rescue operation. Calling the release “insulting drivel”, Stafford Smith said that the government's specialised team meant to deal with nationals in Syria was “utterly useless” and of no help to the mother in her search for her boys.
While many citizens were happy for the young boys’ return, others are a bit skeptical about the return of others — mainly adult women — from the camp.  Countries like France have made the decision to only repatriate children; adults would have to go through an investigation before any talk of a return:
So we’re supposed to jeer at two young, possibly deeply traumatized children, because of their father’s actions? Are you serious?
— Shari Paul ??♀ (@ShariKimmyDee) January 21, 2019
Some members of the local Muslim community have kept up their appeals. Until official numbers can be determined and strategies put into place, the futures of any Trinbagonian women and children will remain in limbo.

author: Jada Steuart


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Russia’s north still up in arms over Moscow’s trash exports · Global Voices
Maxim Edwards

“I am/We are Shiyes,” a widely used logo design during the protests, resembling one used during the campaign to free journalist Ivan Golunov. Image by Tom Venner and Maxim Edwards, used with permission.
A desolate railway siding in Russia’s far north has become the unlikely catalyst of a nationwide protest movement.
For the past six months, a round-the-clock protest camp has been held outside a planned landfill at Shiyes in the Archangelsk Region, located 1,125 kilometers from Moscow. Its occupants oppose the construction of a euphemistically called “eco-techno-park” which is to receive several railway wagons of trash from the Russian capital every day.
There’s not much in the former village of Shiyes; the area is surrounded by swamps and forests. But it is a few kilometers from the border with the Komi Republic, another of Russia’s northernmost regions. So when residents of the nearby town of Urdoma started to protest against the landfill last year, their cause drew the attention of civil society in two provinces.
Several months on, the Russian internet is abuzz with the hashtags #ПоморьеНеПомойка (“the Pomorye is not a garbage dump,” in reference to the historical term for provinces along the White Sea) and #ЧистыйСевер (“A Clean North”).
“Sorting the trash in Moscow,” reads this popular cartoon by Duran, widely shared across Russian social media. The bins bear the name of controversial landfills and dumpsites outside the capital, including Shiyes.
Solidarity protests have now been held across dozens of cities in Russia, while Shiyes regularly makes news headlines.
The story begins in 2007, when 57 hectares of land around Shiyes were transferred by the Archangelsk Regional government to Russian Railways for “industrial use” until 2056. In July 2018, Russian Railways leased the property to the Moscow company Technopark. At the end of the month, it became clear to residents of nearby villages that something large was being constructed, leading local ecologists to demand an explanation from the regional authorities.
These demands gained momentum and questions about the construction site began to be raised in both the Komi and Archangelsk regional parliaments. Photos of pensioners from the area's remote villages holding solitary pickets (the only legal way of holding spontaneous protests in Russia) soon surfaced.
But the situation at Shiyes remained murky. Neither Technopark nor local authorities clarified exactly what was being constructed, first suggesting that the facility was a waste recycling plant rather than a landfill. In a September 2018 interview with independent radio station Ekho Moskvy, Archangelsk Deputy Governor Elena Kutukova let slip during an advertisement break that rubbish was already being transported to the region and that officials were not saying anything about it as it was a “sensitive political moment.” (For Russian speakers, a detailed interactive timeline of these events can be found at 7×7, a news website focusing on Russia’s far north).
Local ecologists argued that Shiyes was “the worst site for a landfill,” as the area’s peaty bogs drain into several rivers which flow into the White Sea. Meanwhile, environment activists raised concrete procedural demands. As Elena Kalinina and Antonina Obedinina, activists from ПоморьеНеПомойка, said during a June 2019 interview with the Salt.Zone podcast, which follows civic movements in Russia, environmentalists demand a popular referendum on the construction of the landfill, and that municipalities are re-granted powers over issues relating to public land use.
Activists were heartened by a ruling of the Archangelsk regional court in April which revoked local deputies’ attempts to ban such referendums. But on June 25, Russia’s Supreme Court overturned that ruling and found the ban on referendums to be in accordance with Russian law.
Influential political scientist Valery Solovei predicted that the Supreme Court’s ruling would only radicalize the protesters:
Мне вчера повезло встретиться и побеседовать с делегацией активистов из Архангельской области и Коми, которые выступают против строительства мусорного полигона в Шиесе. Они были готовы к сегодняшнему решению Верховного Суда, фактически закрывшего возможность проведения референдума в Архангельской области на сей счет.
Однако после встречи у меня исчезли сомнения: эти спокойные и уверенные люди не позволят построить на своей земле мусорной полигон. Их сопротивление будет нарастать пропорционально давлению, а последствия конфликта, в случае его развития, окажутся радикальными и масштабными.
Yesterday I was lucky enough to meet and talk with a delegation of activists from the Archangelsk Region and Komi [Republic], who oppose the construction of a landfill in Shiyes. They were prepared for today’s Supreme Court ruling, which has practically closed off any possibility of a referendum in the Archangelsk Region on the issue.
However, after the meeting my doubts disappeared: these calm, resolute people will simply not allow a landfill to be constructed on their territory. Their resistance will increase in proportion to repression; if a conflict develops, its consequences will be radical and on a large scale.
— Valery Solovei, Facebook, 25 июня 2019
In a blog post for Ekho Moskvy on the controversial court ruling, veteran Russian human rights activist Lev Ponomaryov stressed that Muscovites had a duty to stand with people in the Russian north “in their fight against arbitrariness and lawlessness,” noting that:
Не будет преувеличением сказать, что власти, наряду с ЧОПами и околовластным бизнесом, ввели оккупационный режим на части территории Русского Севера.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that the authorities, together with private security companies and businesses close to power, have imposed an occupation regime on the Russian north.
— Lev Ponomaryov, Ekho Moskvy, 26 июня 2019
These observations lie at the heart of Russia’s new wave of environmental activism. At a panel discussion on June 5 in Berlin’s PANDA Theater attended by the author, the independent Russian politician Dmitry Gudkov noted that “90 percent of all protests in Russia are green in nature.” Gudkov’s colleague Alexander Solovyev retorted: “Yes, but these protests are not ‘green’ because protesters are worried about climate change; they’re green because people worry about what’s going on in their backyard, about getting ill from cancer or pneumonia.”
This is no Extinction Rebellion; the resistance to Shiyes is about environmental safety rather than climate change per se. The rhetoric of Russia’s ecological activists focuses on a lack of accountability and heavy-handed governance by an elite which some Russians feel treats them as disposable, much like the trash which ends up in Shiyes. And that’s a story which resonates widely in Russia, across many diverse local protest agendas.
As prominent Russian blogger Pavel Pryanikov writes:
Шиес – хороший пример, как умнеет наш народ. Сначала понял, что такое частная собственность. Теперь хорошо понимает, что такое своя земля, своя малая Родина. Очень быстро идёт не только гуманизация России, но и быстро наше общество пробегает азы построения гражданской нации – то, на что в Европе ушло 200-400 лет, у нас догоняется за несколько десятилетий. Очень хорошо, что вне пределов московской метрополии у людей появляется это чувство своей земли, которой могут распоряжаться только они, а не какие-то «дяди с Москвы».
Вообще же главная национальная идея нашего времени не только ГДЕ ДЕНЬГИ!? (о чём много пишу), но и ЗА ВСЁ НУЖНО ПЛАТИТЬ. Народ постепенно понимает, что всё требует расплаты – Крымнаш, милитаризация с Царь-ракетами, прокорм сонма чинуш и олигархата […] «Вы требуете от нас затянуть пояса, а и мы потребуем вот этих операторов Царь-свалки на пару лет затянуть пояса. Товарищи Собянин, Ротенберг и Чайка – ЗА ВСЁ НУЖНО ПЛАТИТЬ!».
И это строительство гражданской нации в России будет только нарастать.
Shiyes is a good example of how our people are becoming wiser. At first [the population] learnt what private property is. Now people have a good understanding of their land, of their small “motherland.” Not only is the humanization of Russia progressing quickly, but our society is also quickly learning the basics of building a civic nation. That took 200-400 years to achieve in Europe, and we’ve caught up with it in a few decades. It’s great that, outside the Moscow metropolis, people have a sense of their own land; land which they and only they can do with as they see fit, rather than some “uncle from Moscow.”
On the whole, the national idea of our times is not just WHERE’S THE MONEY!? (which I write about a lot), but also EVERYTHING MUST BE PAID FOR. People are slowly coming to understand that everything requires payment: from KrymNash [the annexation of Crimea – ed.] to militarization and Tsar-rockets, and feeding the army of bureaucrats and oligarchs. […] “You demand that we tighten our belts; we demand that the Tsar’s garbage disposal men tighten their own belts for a couple of years. Comrades Sobyanin, Rotenberg, and Chaika: EVERYTHING MUST BE PAID FOR.
— Павел Пряников, Facebook, 2 июня 2019
Shiyes is far from the only location of a planned waste dump. In an effort to solve the capital’s significant waste management problem, Moscow officials have for several years resorted to burying trash elsewhere. As such, ecological activists in Ryazan, Tula, Kirov, Krasnoufimsk, and several other towns have made a stand against waste dumps, landfills, and garbage incinerators on their turf. Some have even succeeded — last December, protesters in Yaroslavl, a town due east of Moscow, triumphed when the government ruled that waste from the Russian capital would no longer be exported to their region. Artur Parfenchikov, governor of Karelia even promised on his VKontakte page that he would refuse to accept imports of trash from outside the northerly province.
While the protests at Shiyes certainly play to grievances of regional inequality before the capital, that doesn’t mean that Muscovites haven’t come out in support themselves. On July 3, several hundred people gathered at Moscow’s Suvorovsky Square in a protest organized by Russia’s left opposition parties. Even Russia’s communist party, which has parliamentary representation, has taken up the cause; leader Gennady Zyuganov expressed his admiration for the protesters:
Рядом со станцией Шиес ежедневно проходят столкновения борцов за чистоту родной природы с охранниками, которых поддерживает полиции. Между тем, в планах власти, насколько нам известно, создание более полусотни «объектов», превращающих живописный северный край в гигантскую свалку.
— Геннадий Зюганов (@G_Zyuganov) June 25, 2019
On a daily basis, near the Shiyes station, there are clashes between those fighting to keep their environment clean, and guards who are supported by the police. By the way, as far as we know, the authorities plan to found over fifty such “installations,” which will transform the picturesque northern region into an immense rubbish tip.
— Геннадый Зюганов, Twitter (@G_Zyuganov) 25 июня 2019
The Russian authorities certainly seem concerned at this new wave of environmental protest, which has become increasingly brazen. On July 2, new “ekobessrochki” (round-the-clock protests) were launched across northern towns such as Kotlas, Severodvinsk, and Syktyvkar, the capital of the Komi Republic. Furthermore, on July 4, Archangelsk-based ecological activist Dmitry Sekushkin even set up a billboard directly outside the security services’ local headquarters reading “Shiyes is Ours! The Russian north is not a garbage dump for Moscow!” The banner was removed within a day, and Selkushkin was detained.
Another example of this unease came after Direct Line with Vladimir Putin on June 20. The annual live call-in show allows journalists and ordinary citizens to address their questions directly to the Russian president. Putin was asked by journalist Roberto Panchvidze about a new law against “insulting the authorities” which had been brought against several people for comments posted on VKontakte, mentioning one woman in the Archangelsk Region who ran afoul of it for writing “they’ve got a lot of nerve” about the landfill in Shiyes. News websites noted that the word “Shiyes” and any mention of the landfill were removed from the official transcript of the event. Prominent Russian sociologist Ekaterina Shulmann caustically remarked:
Простите, дорогие читатели, но, видимо, мы действительно имеем дело с какой-то манифестной формой безумия. Шиес опять пропал из стенограммы прямой линии на сайте kremlin.ru. Вчера вечером был, сегодня с утра нету. […] Граждане компьютерные специалисты, бывает такое вообще, или кроме нечистой силы нету рациональных объяснений?
Forgive me, dear readers, but clearly we really are dealing with some manifest form of madness. Shiyes has again disappeared from the transcript of Direct Line on the site Kremlin.ru. Yesterday evening it was there, this morning it’s gone. […] Citizen computer specialists, does this kind of thing just happen, or are there really no rational explanations besides forces of evil?
— Екатерина Шульман, Facebook, 22 июня 2019
A correspondent for Znak, a Russian news website, who visited Shiyes before and after Direct Line was broadcast noted how disappointed members of the protest camp were that their cause was not directly raised with the Russian president. The same journalist indicated that reaching the protest camp outside the construction site now demanded a walk of over 13 kilometers over a mud track, as Russia’s state-owned gas company Gazprom has closed a nearby road.
Moreover, since June 28, passenger trains no longer stop at Shiyes, a move which unleashed a flurry of pickets outside the offices of Russian Railways. Some protesters even bought dolls of Zhdun to ticket offices with the words “will there be a train to Shiyes?” (Zhdun, whose name translates to “waiting guy” is a Russian meme resembling a walrus, with hands clasped in quiet anticipation.
Zhdun dolls have also been observed overlooking the landfill site at Shiyes demanding construction to stop, an end to deliveries of trash, and the departure of private security guards.
As Zhdun waits, more and more visitors, celebrities, campaigners, and ordinary citizens alike, are reaching Shiyes despite the obstacles.
One Muscovite writes, after a visit to the campsite on July 7:
Всего сутки были на Шиесе. Увы, надо дальше в отряды. Люди держатся, в лагере потрясающая самоорганизация. Есть банька, колодец, огородик с таааким луком, свой маленький лес. Но главное – люди. Встречают, провожают, обустраивают, советуют,кормят круглосуточно. Туда обязательно надо ехать,особенно москвичам. Попробую в осенние каникулы.
We were only in Shiyes for a day. Alas, [we should] have come in whole legions. People there are holding on, the camp shows impressive self-organization. There’s a bathhouse, a well, a little garden with amaaaazing onions, a little forest. But the main thing is the people. The meet you, show you around, make sure you have whatever you need, give you advice, feed you for the whole day. Everybody should go there, especially Muscovites.
— Margarita Baeva, VKontakte, 7 июля 2019

author: Maxim Edwards