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Suicide attack against Russia’s domestic intelligence agency spells more trouble for activists · Global Voices
Christopher Moldes

Anti-torture and police brutality rally in Moscow, June 10, 2018. Banner says: “Fight every day! Against persecution, repression and trumped-up charges!” // DonSimon, Wikimedia under CC0
On October 31st, a seventeen-year-old suicide bomber set off an explosive in the FSB (the Federal Security Service, Russia's primary domestic intelligence agency) building in Arkhangelsk, Russia — killing themselves and injuring three more. The act was allegedly in reaction to the existing persecution of leftist activists by the government, and has led many to fear fierce repercussions for left-wing groups in the country.
Just minutes earlier, a message appeared in a Telegram chat channel for Russian anarchists. It read “Comrades, the FSB building in Arkhangelsk is about to be hit by a terrorist attack, which I will claim responsibility for. The reasons are perfectly clear to you all. Since the FSB has crossed the f***g line, fabricating cases and torturing people, I’ve decided to go for it…I wish you all a glorious anarcho-communist future!”
Two days later, an even younger teenager was arrested in Moscow after an improvised explosive device was discovered in his apartment. Police allege that this suspect had previously been in contact with the Arkhangelsk bomber. If the Telegram message (allegedly from the bomber) is to be believed, the FSB’s actions motivated the two teenagers to extremist action.
For just over a year, the FSB has been arresting anarchist and antifascist activists as part of the “Network” case. According to the FSB, the suspects are part of a terror group known as “The Network”, with cells all over the country planning to carry out terrorist attacks, including during the World Cup.
Those arrested, however, paint a different picture, one of coerced confessions and torture ranging from suffocation by plastic bag and being beaten with tasers and stun batons. They believe they are being singled out for their leftist views and are being charged under fabricated pretenses. Other left-wing activists have also reported increased government scrutiny as the Network case continued to grow.
The FSB hasn’t limited these tactics to explicitly left-wing circles either. Around the same time that the Network case was taking off, the FSB alleges that it discovered and disbanded another underground extremist group called “New Greatness”. They claim that New Greatness sought to violently overthrow the Russian government, pointing to oppositional literature found at the suspects’ homes and chat logs obtained from Telegram. The so-called movement originated on Telegram, where the suspects, mostly teenagers, met to discuss their oppositional political views.
The suspects claim that this was merely a social group that attended other political rallies and actions. Some reports suggest that the FSB created the group in the hopes of luring and entrapping Russians with views contrary to the current Russian government.
With both these cases being publicized at the same time, public outcry grew. The parents of those arrested in the “New Greatness” case organized a march in Moscow, and spontaneous rallies and pickets in support of “Network” and “New Greatness” defendants have been ongoing. It would seem that this increased uptick in publicity and outrage may have pushed the two anarchists in Arkhangelsk and Moscow into taking more serious action: planning and carrying out bombings.
Russian leftists are split over this tactic, but most are in agreement that this could set off another round of repression. Sergei Udaltsov, the leader of Left Front, a leftist organization with close ties to the Communist Party of the Russian Federation, tweeted:
17-летний студент техникума, считающий себя анархистом, совершил сегодня самоподрыв в здании УФСБ по Архангельской области. Теперь у власти прекрасный повод начать новые преследования и проверки оппозиционеров. Похоже на спланированную провокацию… https://t.co/SBpHYWdjSG
— Сергей Удальцов (@s_udaltsov) 31 октября 2018 г.
A 17-year-old technical school student who considered himself an anarchist blew himself up today at the FSB’s Arkhangelsk regional office. Now the authorities have wonderful grounds for starting new persecutions and increasing scrutiny of oppositionists. It looks like a planned-out setup…
Left Block, a small leftist group oriented towards direct street action, also doubted the veracity of the claims that the Arkhangelsk bomber was indeed an anarchist. In a post on VKontakte, the most popular Russian social network, the group continued by denouncing the use of terror, citing a long tradition of left-wing terrorism and its questionable efficacy.  As for the potential repercussions, the group took a more “optimistic” approach, saying:
Мы уже живем в мире, где пытки и репрессии стали обыденным делом, где могут посадить за лайк, а сотрудники ФСИН могут творить полный ад в отношении заключенных. И им за это ничего не будет.

“Какие еще “репрессии” вам, блять, нужны?
We live in a word where torture and repression have become an everyday occurrence, where you can go to jail for a like, where federal jailers can create total hell for prisoners. And nothing will happen to them because of this. What more f***g “repression” do you need?
This optimism may be short-lived. Shortly after the Arkhangelsk bomber was allegedly identified, a journalist reached out to someone on social media under the same name. The police immediately set out to question him. Though the journalist was once involved in the antifascist movement in the Arkhangelsk region, he stressed that he hasn’t been back there in years, and only wrote to the suspect to verify if he had found the correct profile. Around the same time, a socialist in the city of Perm received a phone call from the FSB, saying they needed to speak with her about the Arkhangelsk bombing. She rejected their invitation:
Я к ним не поеду. У меня глубокий вечер, и я имею право на отдых. Они ко мне приедут. Надеюсь, что они ограничатся тем, что сообщат, что мне не надо взрывать пермское ФСБ. Но я как-то и не собиралась.
I’m not going to them. It's very late in the evening where I am now, and I have the right to relax. They’ll come to me. I hope they’ll just tell me I don’t have to blow up the Perm FSB office. I wasn’t planning on it anyway.
A similar situation played out with a member of “The Other Russia” (a conservative party of self-proclaimed socialists with an emphasis on ethnic Russian nationalism and nostalgic imperialism), who reported being called by an investigator who wanted to know his views on what happened in Arkhangelsk. In another event seemingly unrelated to the bombing, an activist in Tver was approached by an FSB officer. The activist claims the officer suddenly got into his car and suggested they start cooperating. After refusing, the officer threatened to charge him for participating in the unfurling of a banner that read “Take the FSB to court.”
Leftist chat groups on Telegram are still abuzz with news of the attack. These chat groups are fully open to the public; one doesn’t even need to formally join to be able to read discussions. Several members reminded others to operate on the assumption that the police were already in the chat.
Some lauded the bomber’s efforts. Pictures were uploaded honoring him. Other users called for more extreme action. A few trolls popped up sporadically expressing their wish to see everyone there behind bars. Even non-leftist chat groups are on notice, as several participants of libertarian chats reported being questioned by police after the bombing.
Regardless of whether or not this will reignite sweeping arrests as with the Network and New Greatness Cases, Russian activists of all stripes should be wary of posting potentially incriminating material online, and be vigilant about being associated with the terror attack.
Already, prominent TV host Vladimir Soloviev, known for his pro-Putin views, blasted opposition journalists and politicians, casting the blame for the attack on them, saying “They aren’t people, they’re rats.” The fact that these journalists, not anarchists or socialists by any means, are being unfairly slandered and associated with the attack could indicate that the prevailing mood will soon mean more persecution for any opposition figures and activists.

author: Christopher Moldes


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Angolans react to government’s new law-and-order initiative · Global Voices
Dércio Tsandzana

Street vendors in Angola | Photo by Simião Hossi (2018)
A new government initiative in Angola wants to tackle public disorder, crime, and illegal immigration. Officials say that “Operation Rescue”, as it's called, is meant to restore the state's authority and encourage citizens’ care about the country's public services. It will begin on November 6 and has no end date.
Speaking with Deutsche Welle, Angolan police commissioner general said that, although Angola is experiencing economic, financial and social difficulties, those should not justify disorder:
Não podemos permitir isso e temos de garantir maior estabilidade, sossego, tranquilidade e paz para os cidadãos. Queremos resgatar a autoridade do Estado que, por vezes, dilui-se na confusão. Queremos resgatar a ordem, o civismo, a dignidade.
We can not allow this, we must ensure greater stability, peace, tranquility and peace for the citizens. We want to rescue the authority of the state, which is sometimes diluted in confusion. We want to rescue order, civility, dignity.
Among other things, the campaign aims to reduce the number of street vendors in Luanda and address insalubrity in the streets.
Operation rescue will also crack down on illegal immigration. This is a heated debate in Angola, whose border with the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) is the longest in Africa and, Angolan authorities say, is crossed by 1,000 people every day.
In March 2018, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) criticized the Angolan government for having forced 530 refugees to return to DRC. The Congolese authorities recently said that they will also deport Angolans living in that country in retaliation.
Since September, the Angolan government has been conducting another program directed specifically at border control. “Operation Transparency” happens in seven Angolan provinces that border the DRC and combats primarily diamond smuggling.
According to Minister Pedro Sebastiao, who is also the head of presidential security, diamonds worth over one million US dollars have been seized in the course of the operation, as well as 59 firearms. Over 200 premises for illegal diamond trading have been dismantled.
Domingos das Neves, Professor at the Catholic University of Angola, says that the operation should have different objectives, namely the improvement of the lives of Angolans:
“OPERAÇÃO RESGATE”!
O resgate maior do Estado seria o de proporcionar condições para garantir empregos e trabalhos dignos para a multidão de jovens desempregados, licenciados (ou não), técnicos ou analfabetos, pois que todos precisam, pelo menos, sobreviver com um mínimo de dignidade. E, nada melhor do que viver com o fruto do próprio suor. Isso sim, seria o verdadeiro resgate da autoridade do Estado, que é uma entidade de bem!
”RESCUE OPERATION”
The most important rescue by the state would be to provide the conditions to guarantee decent jobs for the young unemployed, licensed (or not), technic or illiterate, because everyone must at least survive with a minimum of dignity. And there is nothing better than living through our own effort. That would be the real rescue of the State's authority, which is a good entity!
Gilberto Muatye Alberto Fernando, journalist and resident in Luanda, supported the professor's statement, with some reservations:
E sendo o Estado uma entidade de bem, com tudo aquilo que foi dito neste post, a operação resgate seria uma solução e não um problema… só que temos o hábito de querer precipitar as coisas, não acautelamos o mínimo para que as pessoas tenham dignidade e depois queremos organização… onde é que já se viu organização com fome?
If the state is a good entity, and with all that was said in this post, the rescue operation would be a solution and not a problem… except that we have the habit of wanting to rush things, we do not take the minimum precautions for people to have dignity and then we want organization… where have we ever seen organization where there's hunger?
Others wholly support the government's program and say that it is necessary for citizens to carry out their activities in an organized way. Tinamendes Ambrosio commented:
Acho pertinente sua reflexão amigo Domingos Das Neves. Mas enquanto as condições de vida mínimas desejadas não chegam, podemos indo arrumar a nossa casa. Podemos ser pobres e limpos. A venda e o amontoados de lixo em qualquer esquina não tem a ver com a pobreza más sim com o espírito do deixa andar. Assim cresceram desordenadamente muitos bairros.
I think your reflection is pertinent, Domingos Das Neves. But while the minimum living conditions don't come, we can still clean up our house. We can be poor and clean. Street selling and trash in every corner is not about poverty, but rather with a careless spirit. So many neighborhoods have grown in disorderly way.
Street sellers in Angola | Photo by Simião Hossi (2018)
The journalist Alberto dos Santos Ovni reminded that people are embarrassed by this operation because of poverty in the country:
Operação Resgate
Senhor Presidente da República
Senhor Ministro do Interior
A zunga ou venda ambulante, as oficinas sem cobertura, as bancadas do jovem que repara telefone junto a via pública, o jovem que exerce o seu serviço de moto táxi vulgo kupapatas, o taxista que nos leva dos Mulenvos, Papá Simão, Bananeira, Caroango, beco da morte, do Calauenda, da Belo Monte, Maiombe, Pedreira, Vidrul, da Fubu, Mundial entre outros bairros da nossa /vossa capital Luanda onde os transportes públicos não chegam por falta de estradas em condições para chegarmos ao centro da cidade e sermos tratados em hospitais, porque o plasmódio fez de nós o seu hospedeiro… Isto não é sinónimo de retirar a autoridade do Estado é simplesmente sinónimo de ‘‘POBREZA”.
Por favor deixem a mamá zungueira em paz!
Rescue Operation
Mr. President of the Republic
Minister of the Interior
The street selling, the uncovered shops, the magazine of the young man who repairs the telephone along the public highway, the young man who carries out his taxi service, the taxi driver who takes us from the Mulenvos, Papá Simão, Bananeira, Caroango, Calauenda, Belo Monte, Maiombe, Pedreira, Vidrul, Fubu, Mundial among other neighborhoods of our capital Luanda where public transport does not arrive due to the lack of roads in good condition. This doesn't mean lack of state authority, it is simply means POVERTY.

source: news-globalvoices

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

author: Dércio Tsandzana


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Eastern Ghouta’s displaced residents are stuck between a rock and a hard place · Global Voices
Act For Ghouta

Syrian civilians and fighters from the opposition getting ready to board buses during their eviction from the city of Irbeen in eastern Ghouta in the suburbs of Damascus on March 25, 2018, following a deal with the Syrian regime. Photo by Abdul Munim Issa. Used with permission.
The Syrian regime evicted residents of eastern Ghouta, forcibly displaced them from their towns and villages and sent in green buses towards rural Aleppo and Idlib in northern Syria, following a 45-days military offensive that claimed the lives of 1,650 people and wounded thousands more.
The evictions took place after a deal between the opposition and the Syrian regime, allowing the Syrian regime and its allies to seize homes and whole towns, sometimes even detaining those who remained.
The displaced masses arrived in the northern region tired, broken and burdened by years of siege and unbearable memories. They had reached the end of the road — or, more accurately — they arrived at the beginning of another journey. It was the end of daily tragedy from the siege and shelling, and the beginning of the tragedy of displacement and the difficulties of starting over.
Most of the displaced populations settled in various towns throughout rural Aleppo and Idlib. Many realized they were at a crossroad, with two main routes to choose from that would determine their future.
In the north, many questions swarm the minds of newly arrived populations from eastern Ghouta: “Will we be subjected again to a siege and shelling? Will we be living in worse conditions than those we've just survived? Shall we leave to Turkey where we know nothing?”
People are confused. They could either chose to stay in northern Syria despite the tough conditions and unclear future, or they could decide to cross the border and seek refuge in Turkish towns — either settling there or starting a journey toward Europe.
Displaced Syrians do not speak the Turkish language. They must learn it to seek employment, settle and lead a normal life. But this requires time and money that nearly all lack. Most don't even have the money needed to pay smugglers who could transfer them to the other side of the border — that is, if they dismiss the risks of dealing with the deception and extremely dangerous risk of crossing with them.
Samer, 29, married with one daughter, describes his family's dilemma:
I don't feel comfortable leaving Syria. I'm not comfortable staying either. I hope God avenges us from those who flipped our lives upside down and erased our future.
Mohammed, 25, cannot consider leaving to Turkey as he is the only provider for his family. Smuggling them all to Turkey would cost him thousands of dollars which he doesn't have and so he stopped thinking about it. Living in Turkey is expensive, and as the sole breadwinner, he would not be able to provide their basic needs.
Shadi, 24, a field reporter from Ghouta, says he has to stay in Syria to serve his cause and amplify the stories of his peoples’ struggles and small achievements. He wants the world to know that people never die — even when uprooted from their homeland.
Upon arrival in northern Syria, some families decide to stay within the Syrian borders and live in any one of the northern towns.
Nazir, 26, married with one daughter, resumed his work with the Guardians of Childhood, a civil society organization he used to work for in his hometown of Douma, just two weeks after his arrival.  He wanted to stay in Syria to help displaced children without access to education, hoping he can rescue them from ignorance and destruction.
Niveen, 38, a mother of two and an activist, refuses to leave as well:
If we all leave Syria who will help the women and children left behind?
Niveen does not want to seek refuge in Turkey because she doesn't want to be labeled a refugee. She believes she has a mission to fulfill in Syria, and as long as staying is an option, she will stay on Syrian soil, just as she did seven years ago when the conflict began. She doesn't want to be forced to leave and waste years of her life outside Syria.
For others, the decision to stay in Syria was based on their fear of the unknown.
Nuha, 24, says that it is very difficult for her to live in Turkey where nobody understands her except through hand gestures or translation apps. She says that she prefers to stay in Syria because staying means greater chances of returning home.
Um Abdul Rahman, 49, mother of seven children, was persuaded by her children to stay because they did not want to lose their dignity living as refugees in another country.
Mahmoud, 34, married with four children, ensures that his children are attending school again. He wants them to get an education because it guarantees a good future. He wishes he could leverage his own qualifications, a bachelor in civil engineering, but this would mean going to Turkey. He could not ignore his conscience and leave his countrypeople behind, so he decided to remain in Syria, leaving refuge in Turkey as the last option, when all other hope is lost.
Ghouta's displaced populations often convene to discuss their options. They consult their friends and family because they don't want their children to grow up away from home; they also don't want them to grow up in a war-torn place. They want to forget the pain and suffering and start over, but at the same time, they don't wish to leave their country after having survived seven years of hell.
For many, seeking refuge in Turkey or other parts of the EU is a necessary choice, having lost the ability to tolerate living in a war zone. They want to escape life-sucking sieges and live a normal life.
Moa'yad, 24, wants to hear the birds chirping again; he wants to hear music and his neighbors’ loud noises. He says he can no longer take the sound of a single bomb — not even a single gunshot.
Rahaf, 21, wants to flee the bombing, fear and futile anticipation of peace conferences that lead nowhere. She wants to escape warlords trading people's lives. She says she cannot bear the idea of living under another potential siege now that she managed to leave Ghouta.
Moa'yad is afraid of settling up north because he is unsure of what awaits Idlib — its future could be worse than eastern Ghouta's scenario. He wants to go to Turkey and live with his brother and work with him at a sewing factory until he learns Turkish and goes back to school.
Staying in Syria is not an option for Imad, 22, either.
He doesn't want to live in a place where the possibility of bombing always looms — from Russians or Iranians on the one hand or the unfair rule of various factions on the other. Imad also realizes it's impossible to finish his studies in the north because of the instability and the fact his qualifications are not recognized outside of northern Syria. For him, Turkey is the best option.
Residents of eastern Ghouta behold their vague future in fear as thousands of questions play in their heads. Yet, many fail to find a single helpful answer, since going home to eastern Ghouta is not an option — at least not yet.

author: Act For Ghouta


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Political cartoonist Badiucao abruptly cancelled his Hong Kong exhibition — and then went silent · Global Voices
Oiwan Lam

“Gongle,” by Badiucao, is a play on words commenting on Google’s effort to re-enter China with a censored search engine. Used with permission.
Political cartoonist Badiucao was forced to cancel his first solo exhibition in Hong Kong, due to threats from the central Chinese government.
The exhibition was scheduled to open on November 3 as the headline event at Hong Kong's Free Expression Week. On November 2, the organizers announced they were cancelling the event:
We are sorry to announce that the exhibition “Gongle,” by Chinese artist Badiucao, has been cancelled due to safety concerns.
The decision follows threats made by the Chinese authorities relating to the artist. Whilst the organisers value freedom of expression, the safety of our partners remains a major concern.
Badiucao has built his reputation on Twitter, drawing political cartoons that challenge censorship and dictatorship in China. The Chinese-Australian artist's work has been featured by The New York Times and The Guardian.
The event was seen by many as a test of the limits of free speech in Hong Kong, which enjoys more freedoms than mainland China, under a principle known as “One Country, Two Systems.” In recent years, Beijing has more forcefully asserted its influence over Hong Kong. Those who support more democratic rights, such as genuine universal suffrage, or outright independence, have faced fierce repression.
The organizers have not described the nature of the threats that the artist received. He is typically outspoken online, but has not updated his Twitter since November 1.
Badiucao had not intended to travel to Hong Kong, but was supposed to participate in a panel discussion via video call with Hong Kong pro-democracy activist Joshua Wong, Hong Kong artists Sampson Wong and Oscar Ho, and Russian punk-rock protesters Olga Kuracheva and Veronika Nikulshina, both members of the band Pussy Riot.
Although the exhibition was cancelled, the panelists decided to proceed and hold a discussion about art and freedom of expression in a small studio. They live-streamed the event on Facebook.
Cedric Alviani, Olga Kuracheva, Veronika Nikulshina and Joshua Wong. Image from Hong Kong Free Press. Use with permission.
Chinese non-profit media the Stand News reported on the panel discussion in which Sampson Wong expressed concerns about Badiucao’s safety. He explained that he has been trying to contact the artist since November 2, but that Badiucao has been incommunicado. Wong saw the exhibition as a test case for freedom of expression in Hong Kong. He was disappointed that more people had not spoken out against the threats from Beijing.
Oscar Ho, a local art critic and scholar, was shocked by the cancellation. He pointed out that Beijing’s censorship practices in Hong Kong are unclear. There is a general expectation that Hong Kongers “should know” where the red line lies, but there are relatively few clear indications of what is and is not permissible. He expressed a desire for people to be more creative in fighting against censorship.
Joshua Wong said he wanted more exchange with international civil society, in hopes that international networks could help local groups defend democracy and freedom.
Pussy Riot member Olga Kuracheva emphasized the importance of public support and solidarity for people like Badiucao:
We are very sorry to know that things are getting worse here. I think it is very important to be here now just to express our solidarity… I would advise people not to be afraid, because one voice is not so much…but voices of solidarity should sound loud. (Quote from Hong Kong Free Press’ report)
Kuracheva and Nikulshina are among four members of Pussy Riot who served a 15-day jail sentence after protesting against Russian leader Vladimir Putin during the football World Cup final in Moscow in July 2018. They said threats to exhibitions and political art events are “common practice” in Russia.
Cedric Alviani from Reporters Without Borders pointed out that Hong Kong’s ranking on RSF's press freedom index has dropped from 18 in 2002 to 70 in 2018. He believed that the best way to support artists under threat is to disseminate their works in spaces where it is possible to do so.

author: Oiwan Lam


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Stories of Sri Lankans who are “Taking a Stand” for democracy · Global Voices
GroundViews

Image via Groundviews
This post originally appeared on Groundviews, an award-winning citizen journalism website in Sri Lanka. An edited version is published below as part of a content-sharing agreement with Global Voices.
Sri Lanka has been embroiled in a political crisis since October 26 when president Maithripala Sirisena removed Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe – replacing him with former president Mahinda Rajapaksa. This has led to a power struggle between the newly appointed PM and the recently ousted PM who both believe in the legitimacy of their position. Thousands of protesters have taken to the streets of the capital Colombo to question the constitutional legitimacy of the president's decision and demand the parliament be reconvened to settle the matter. Bowing to pressure, President Sirisena has promised to reconvene the parliament on November 7.
On November 4, 2018, a group of people gathered at the Liberty roundabout in the Kollupitiya neighborhood of the Sri Lankan capital Colombo.
For some, it was their fifth day of standing in protest. Following news that President Maithripala Sirisena and the United People’s Freedom Alliance had stepped down from the coalition Government, a group of citizens decided to meet at the roundabout every day, from 4:30 to 6:30 pm, until Parliament was convened. On the first day, the protest coincided with a larger rally organised by Ranil Wickremesinghe-led United National Party (UNP) held nearby – but many of those who attended the rally on that day were quick to say that they were not attending to support the UNP.
On October 30, a tweet by Lisa Fuller featuring one of the posters held by a protester went viral. It read, “I’m not here for Ranil – I’m here for democracy”.
“I’m not here for Ranil. I’m here for democracy and good governance” Civil society protest at liberty circle now #lka #SriLanka #ConstitutionalCrisisLK #CoupLK pic.twitter.com/5A4yFTwaaW
— Lisa Fuller (@gigipurple) October 30, 2018
The poster appeared to encapsulate the sentiments of many of those gathered at the Liberty roundabout on October 30 and every day after.
Over the past few days, Groundviews documented those who attended the citizen protest. Those attending included young people who had never attended a protest before, senior citizens, activists and members of civil society. On November 4, there were participants from Jaffna, Mannar, Batticaloa and Kandy as well as from Colombo. For some, it was their first time at a protest. Others had seen corruption continue on for decades (the oldest participant was 92 years old). Members from the corporate sector stood shoulder-to-shoulder with activists from Jaffna and Batticaloa, who were flanked by those in the theatre community.
Corruption was a recurring topic, given revelations from UNP MP Ruwan Wijewardene about sums of money being offered for Parliamentarians to switch allegiances.
On October 30 and afterward, we asked those who attended one simple question – “What made you decide to participate?”
Over the past few days, Groundviews documented those who attended the citizen protest.
This is what they had to say:
Diordre Moraes. Image via Groundviews
“As a mother, as a grandmother, I want to see democracy restored. I’m not against any person or any party but as a citizen of Sri Lanka. Nothing like this has ever happened before” – Diordre Moraes
Neluni Tillekeratne. Image via Gorundviews
“I feel young people should take political issues more seriously. When youth engage with politics they only look at statements from the President or Prime Minister. We don’t look at deeper issues. I’m hoping to influence young people to come.” Neluni Tillekeratne
Nadesan Suresh. Image via Groundviews
Our Malaiyaha Tamil community, those who work in tea estates, voted for President Sirisena hoping he would reform society. However, what he did sets us back 100 years.’ Nadesan Suresh, from Badulla.
Sarojini Kadirgamar. Image via Groundviews
“Though I’m 92 years old, I feel I must make a stand for democracy. Over the years I’ve seen the steady deterioration of political life. Every party has used corrupt practices for short term gains.This has to change.” Sarojini Kadirgamar
Leisha Lawrence, Mihiri de Silva, Sepali de Silva and unknown. Image via Groundviews
“I’m here for democracy. If an MP choose to jump to another party they should lose their seat in Parliament. I’m not here for any party.” Leisha Lawrence (far right)
“We vote in a particular way for who we want. That doesn’t give the President the right to do what he wants, because he doesn’t get on with a particular person.” Mihiri de Silva (second from right)
“My vote is not for sale. This is not right!” Sepali de Silva (second from left)
Kalaivani. Image via Groundviews
‘We call this a democratic country but what happened suppressed democratic means. We made history as having the first female prime minister, now we have made history again for having two prime ministers!’ Kalaivani, from Batticaloa.
Adrian Roshan Fernando. Image via Groundviews
“The decisions being made now don’t include the public opinion. They are just taking their own decisions. There is a way to do things.” Adrian Roshan Fernando.
Piyathilaka Ranaweera. Image via Groundviews
“This is not good for the country. We’re doing this for the next generation, for the future of this country.” Piyathilaka Ranaweera
Irfadha Muzammil. Image via Groundviews
“People’s votes matter. We can’t let politicians corrupt that and exploit voters.” Irfadha Muzammil
Abdul Kalam Azad. Image via Groundviews
Rather than saying “I am Prime Minister” come to Parliament now and show that you have the majority. Govern the country. Don’t waste our time!” Abdul Kalam Azad.
As evening fell, the electricity at the Liberty roundabout remained switched off. Later on, Mayor of Colombo Rosy Senanayake tweeted that this was “an act of sabotage”.
This has been brought to my notice and it was an act of sabotage. We will ensure the lights are switched on tomorrow.#RosySenanayake #Colombo #SriLanka #lka https://t.co/Vq4DPWnlz5
— Rosy Senanayake (@Rosy_Senanayake) November 4, 2018
Undeterred, the protesters used the light of their mobile phones and continued chanting.
Image via Groundviews
Eventually, at 7 pm, the protest came to an end – to be resumed the next day, and the day after that, until Parliament reconvenes.
Image via Groundviews
You can read the full Photo essay here. You can also follow along with the protest on Twitter, and from multiple perspectives, here.

author: GroundViews


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A conversation with Nicky Nodjoumi on the power and politics of his art · Global Voices
Omid Memarian

Nicky Nodjoumi working at his studio in Brooklyn New York. Photo Credit: Courtesy of Nicky Nodjoumi.
From the Homa Gallery in Tehran to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, Nicky Nodjoumi’s art has been exhibited around the world. Having lived and worked in his birth country of Iran before and during the country’s 1979 revolution, Nodjoumi, now a Brooklyn resident, developed a keen interest in the relationship between art and politics. He secretly nurtured that interest as an art student in the 1970s at City College in New York until a new generation of artists “changed New York’s art scene and ended the domination of the elite.” From that point on, the gallery owners who had shunned his work began opening their doors to him.
Viewed as a whole, Nodjoumi’s art is a powerful, interpretive, multifaceted, sometimes satirical, exploration of issues related to power and politics. Throughout the decades, Nodjoumi’s work has remained bold and curious as opposed to declarative.
Omid Memarian (OM): The politics of today figure strongly in your work. What’s your thought process and how do you portray political issues without focusing on a specific incident or personality?
Nicky Nodjoumi’s (NN): I start with a photo from a newspaper or magazine. There was a time when artists would put a model in front of them and draw a subject, but times have changed. For example, if I want to paint Mr. Trump’s picture, I can’t use him as a model but there are a lot of photos of him that I can use to match my chosen topic. I often try to change the form or the body so that it only bears a superficial resemblance to reality. Not everyone will recognize who that person is because I want everyone in the world to make a connection when they see it.
The Leaders, ink on paper, 85”x126” 2016. Courtesy of Nicky Nodjoumi.
OM: For the past 10 years, you have focused on the issue of power, especially in your most recent collection, “Field Work and Two Faces.” How does it shape your work?
NN: Power is based on relationships between people. We have all kinds of power; the state is the primary center of power and then there is the family. Power is not hidden but many might not pay attention to it. Choosing power as one of the main topics of my work is rooted in the desire to drag it down to the ground and make fun of it. It’s important to treat it lightly rather than seriously. In every work, power is represented from a different angle, but ultimately, when you look at them as a whole, you see the humor.
Here is Aleppo, ink on paper, 215 x 320 cm, 2017. Courtesy of Nicky Nodjoumi.
OM: You studied fine art at City College in New York in the 1970s. Since then, art schools have multiplied around the country. How have they changed?
NN: When I went to university in 1972, I was done in a year and a half. I wanted to finish and go back to Iran as soon as possible. It was a time when color-field and minimalist styles were popular. My problem with the school and my professors was that they weren’t able to answer my questions about the link between art and politics.
I was involved in student organizations and political activities. It was important for me to understand the relationship between art and politics before learning how to paint. What I saw outside of school was not helpful. Most of it was abstract, which I also did at school and got good results, but I was also pursuing subjects that I liked. Of course, I didn’t share those works with anyone.
OM: Why not?
NN: Because they wouldn’t get it. Abstract art’s dictatorship crumbled in Europe and New York in the 1980s and suddenly a group of young artists flooded the East Village galleries with works based on savage and stark realities from their environment. Small shops popped up in the streets and people could easily enter and look at the art. All these things changed New York’s art scene and ended the domination of the elite. Suddenly anything became possible.
OM: Your political views are influenced by where you grew up, Iran, and where you live now, the United States. These countries operate in very different political contexts. How has this wide geopolitical gap and your dual identity impacted your work?
NN: Sometimes they get mixed. The power plays in the state structures look the same in both countries, at least in my view. I can present the political climate here the same way I do with Iran. I only need to change the characters. I used to have veiled women and mullahs in my work during the Iranian shah’s [king’s] time [1941-1979] because they were part of the oppressed class. That’s no longer the case, so I don’t use them anymore. We have to look at them differently today.
Searching for New Experiment, by Nicky Nodjoumi. Oil on Canvas. Painted in 2010-2013.
OM: Despite the limitations on freedom of expression, there is a lively art scene in Iran that reflects current political and cultural issues. What was it like when you lived there?
NN: Things have changed a lot; there was none of that when we were going to school in Iran. There’s a lot of movement in the Iranian art scene despite the difficult conditions the artists operate in. Just as art styles have multiplied here, art has progressed a lot in Iran, too. We see all kinds of work. There’s a lot of calligraphy and miniature art, which was rare during the shah’s time.
Political events have left their mark on artists as well. I follow certain artists and sometimes I’m shocked by how similar their work is to mine, even though I don’t live there and I don’t show my work a lot. But this path is now open. There are many artists who do a lot of good, independent, original work there.
The Oaths of Infidels 2017. Oil on canvas. Courtesy of Nicky Nodjoumi.
OM: What is the difference in working as an artist in somewhere like the U.S., where there is no limit on expression, and a place like Iran where many things are banned?
NN: They are very different. Saul Steinberg was a great American cartoonist who came from Europe. He famously said that Italian fascism gave birth to Italian surrealism. I don’t know how true that is but it is true that during times of crisis, artists find alternative paths. It might not be the exact path they are looking for, but they do manage to be creative despite the tyranny.
You might ask, would I have found a different path if I had stayed in Iran? Certainly. You can see now that young artists in Iran are able to find ways to express themselves.

author: Omid Memarian


text:
Volunteers chronicle the lives of murdered Colombian activists in words and drawings · Global Voices
Laura Vidal

Postales para Memoria is a project run by volunteers. Hashtag says: they're killing us. Used with permission.
Colombia is experiencing a spike in violence since President Juan Manuel Santos signed a historic peace deal with the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), with one person being killed every four days since 2016.
As the FARC demobilizes in the countryside, it also opens a vacuum for other groups — including other guerrilla, successors of right-wing paramilitary groups, and dissidents of the FARC itself — to fight for control over the abandoned lands. In turn, community leaders and activists are caught in the crossfire and the government has been slow to address the problem.
While solutions eludes the government, activists are setting up initiatives to preserve the memories of the victims. Among them is “Postales para la memoria” (postcards for memory), a collaborative project in which volunteer illustrators and writers draw portraits or write short biographies of the assassinated activists.
For the project's creators, the victims’ stories end up lost in the background of the media's coverage of the peace process. The website says:
La postal es un vehículo de comunicación poderoso, con el potencial de capturar lo esencial de cada historia y de ser compartida digital y físicamente a cualquier parte del mundo, dándonos a todos el poder de contribuir, comunicar y contarle al mundo sobre nuestros líderes.
The postcard is a powerful medium, capable of capturing the essentials of each story and send that message digitally or physically around the world, giving us all the power of contributing, communicating and telling the world about our leaders.
No professional experience is required — anyone who wants to participate can get started by getting in touch through email and proposing to either write a story or draw any of the leaders.
Sandra Viviana Cuéllar was a community leader in Cali, Valle de Cauca. She defended the natural resources of her community's land from the palm oil industry. She was murdered in 2011, at age 26. Here's her postcard:
Sandra Viviana Cuéllar's postcard. Illustrated by Ana María Lagos Gallego. Used with permission.
Ella vivía y sufría por todo lo que tuviera vida: una planta, un animal abandonado […] A mí me impresionaba su capacidad de dinamizar, de movilizar, de relacionarse de una manera alegre y sencilla con la gente. […] A Sandra la desaparecieron un jueves hacia mediodía en un sector conocido como El Terminalito. Iba rumbo a Palmira a dictar su primera clase de cultura y medio ambiente en la Universidad Nacional. Vestía un jean azul y una camisa negra. Su celular y su billetera fueron encontrados dos días después cerca al paradero de buses, intactos. Esa fue la única y la última noticia que tuvieron de ella.
She lived and suffered for all that lived: a plant, an abandoned animal […] It impressed me her capacity to dynamize, to mobilize, to relate to others in a happy and simple way. […] Sandra was disappeared one Thursday around noon, in an area known as El Terminalito. She was on her way to Palmira to give her first class on culture and environment at the National University. She was wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Her phone and her purse were found two days later by the bus stop, intact. That was the last and only news they've heard from her.
Yolanda Maturana lived in the town of Pueblo Rico, in the department of Risaralda. She had found the community-based environmental organisation “Asociación de Amigos de la Fauna y La Flora” (The Association of Friends of Fauna and Flora). She was murdered in her home on February 2018, at age 59.
Se destaca de Yolanda, su preocupación genuina por la sostenibilidad de los recursos naturales que abastecían a su comunidad, razón por la cual apoyó el proceso que derivó en la reglamentación de la cacería de sustento del territorio colectivo de Santa Cecilia.
Remarkable in Yolanda was her preoccupation for the sustainability of the resources that nourished her community, which is the reason why she supported the legalisation of subsistence hunting in the collective territory of Santa Cecilia.
Yolanda Maturana's postcard. Illustrated by Catalina Uribe and used with permission.
There are many more postcards of indigenous leaders, educators, activists against anti-personnel mines and human rights activists.
Liliana Astrid Martínez Ramírez, educator and mother of two children. Illustrated by Helena Melo. Used with permission.
Eliécer Carvajal, attorney who participated in the peace agreements in his district. Illustrated by Juandacoco. Used with permission.
Many more stories like Liliana's and Eliécer's, whose postcards can be seen above, await their own volunteer storyteller, just like other stories await their own illustrator.

author: Laura Vidal


text:
Africa uncovered: an interview with Aida Muluneh · Global Voices
Omid Memarian

Aida Muluneh, The past the present and the future, 2016, David Krut Projects
It’s almost impossible to have a comprehensive discussion about the African art scene and not mention Aida Muluneh. At the age of 44, her photos have already captured the hearts and minds of the international art world and appeared on the walls of New York City’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) as well as in several presitigious publications including the lauded art section of the New York Times. From March to August 2018, five of Muluneh’s photos were exhibited at a MoMA group exhibition titled, “Being: New Photography 2018” prompting glowing reviews of her use of painting and photography to challenge notions of race and identity.
As the creator of the Addis Foto Fest, the only international photo festival in East Africa, Muluneh told Global Voices that hanging her images on the white walls of museums and galleries is the easy part. “The difficult part is the advocacy of promoting other photographers, running the festival, teaching, because, in the end, it’s not about my arrival at the destination,” she says. “At the end of the day, it’s also about: How do I help others reach that destination?” As a photographer, Muluneh has also kept one foot in the West and one foot in the African continent. “And the thing that I’ve seen is that the challenges of black people are a global phenomenon and not just an American thing or an African thing,” she adds.
Born in 1974 in Ethiopia, Muluneh’s global upbringing helped birth her strong desire to question and confront stereotypes of the continent. After spending four years in Yemen and learning English in the UK, Muluneh went to boarding school in Cyprus and then immigrated to Canada. From there she made her way to the US where she was mentored by African American photographers at Howard University.
During a short stint as a photojournalist at the Washington Post, Muluneh displayed a talent for pursuing her assignments from every angle. Her commitment to honoring both sides of a story is also evident in her news/documentary and fine art photography, where multiple layers of a narrative are embedded within each frame. At first glance, her photos may seem easy to understand but her powerful use of primary colors, cultural elements, and historical narratives ultimately transport her audiences to a sophisticated world where they are exposed to a nuanced representation of Africa’s cultural and artistic development.
As one of the world’s leading African artists, Muluneh gives life to artworks that transcend geography, class and cultural differences. In her own words, she is determined to show “the other side of Africa” as it is. “Our cultural background has an impact on how we perceive the world and this is why it is important for those of us from the [African] continent to show the other side. To show that there is modernity in Africa and that not everything is depressing.”
In her interview with Global Voices, Muluneh explains her journey as a fine art photographer and her tireless efforts to train and empower other African artists who also challenge stereotypes about the continent:
Aida Muluneh, 99 Series (Part Three), David Krut Projects
Omid Memarian (OM): A few years ago, in response to what a good photo is, you quoted Irving Penn that “a good photo is the one that communicates a fact and touches the heart and leaves the viewer a changed person for having seen it.” After 10 years of photography, how close have you become to this description?
Aida Muluneh (AM): I’m getting there, but you know, I’m obviously ambitious so I’m trying to get a wider sort of outreach. For me personally, that has been my main objective, not only in my work but also in the teaching that I do and the work I do in Ethiopia. It’s not a matter of creating work that’s only addressing a certain elite group. It should transcend geography and whatever class background. And that is what I strive for personally within what I know best, which is creating these works and you have to remember that I’m still also a photojournalist. So I’m trying to achieve specific goals with the work.
OM: You worked as a photojournalist for two years at Washington Post and then you moved towards a new genre of work, fine art. What couldn’t you achieve in photojournalism that pushed you towards this genre?
AM: I remember at that time, my editors would be like you are an artist or a journalist and you need to make your decision and my main thing wasn’t about making the decision, it was about what I felt comfortable in. So in that sense, the things that I’m not able to say in a journalistic form is kind of motivated into my fine artwork.
Obviously the fine work within one frame is a lot of complexity within each image and for example you can talk about the challenges of this world in a journalistic way but I feel people have become numb to it, with all the influx of images of suffering, whereas through my fine artwork, you see a lot of colors and a lot of graphical elements, but the key thing is to try to make people dig into each image. Because, obviously they are attracted by the colors first, but when you sit with an image and even when you read some of the notes for each image, it actually has a deeper layer to it. So as you know in journalism, you need like a set of images to tell that one story, I’m trying to be able to embed a lot of messages in one image. This is a different way to speak about different contemporary issues that attract a different viewer or even the same viewers that have been seeing all these images coming through in relation to the continent, but at the same time, I’m trying to advocate for the future of Africa as opposed to always looking at the past.
Aida Muluneh, “Shy girls in Quran school” Islam in Ethiopia series.
OM: Does it happen that sometimes in telling a story or expressing a feeling, you go back to taking a photo the way you were doing when you were a photojournalist? Besides what you do now, do you take any other photos?
AM: Yes, the language is still the same, when I did the piece for the Washington post on the drought in Ethiopia, my main challenge was to how to address the drought in a sort of dignified way. To show that yes, there are challenges, but I’m not here to just talk about the peachy stuff and that there are challenges in my country and there are challenges in the continent. But I feel that the industry has sort of perpetuated the cliché over and over again and people might think that’s the only image that exists for the continent. So within my journalistic work, if you go back even when you go inside my Facebook; I was trying to show something different than what people would expect of Ethiopia. With the fine artwork, it’s the same thing, I’m still digging into the culture, I’m still digging into the topics but presenting it in a way that people did not expect. And to sort of provoke people in a different way. I’m not here to offer answers, I’m just asking questions and at the same time each piece is my visual journey.
Portrait of the artist, Aida Muluneh – Photo credit Mario Epanya.
OM: You have talked about advocacy of cultural ownership. What do you mean by that? And is it reflected in different projects that you have completed in the past few years?
AM: For me hanging my images on white walls of museums and galleries is the easy part. The difficult part is the advocacy of promoting other photographers, running the festival, teaching, because, in the end, it’s not about my arrival at the destination. At the end of the day, it’s also about how do I help others reach that destination, because as we have the numbers then the dialogue will change and the visual representation will change as well, of how people see Ethiopia or the continent.
I believe that culture needs to be a part of development and that’s a key point for me. But more importantly, obviously I’ve been educated in the West, and I spent a lot of time outside of my country, but I spent that time as an immigrant in all these different places, so returning back to Ethiopia was really a way for me to show that. When we look at the traditional elements in the continent, they are actually more contemporary than the contemporary. There is so much sophistication and so much beauty in it that to me is not permitted and is actually futuristic in some sense. Because of just how media has portrayed us on a global scale, the key point for me is that we are part of this conversation as far as the impact on a global scale as people of color and what we have on contemporary culture.
Even seeing that all of a sudden Africa is hip, it’s not just that we just started making the work last year. We’ve been making the work for a long time, it’s just now because we have access to these different portals we can take these cultural elements into the international arenas, but also to show that being African is really more complex as well and it’s not just one thing. There are different definitions and different interpretations and I just happen to be one of those.
Aida Muluneh, Romance is dead, 2016, David Krut Projects.
OM: Your work is aesthetically bold and beautiful, because of the use of primary colors, which is one of the major characteristics of your work. But at the same time, it touches upon the most significant issues of our time, such as inequality, immigration, prejudice, and slavery. People might not even unlock the codes in the first look. What's your thought process in creating this creative approach?
AM: A lot of it has to do with my global upbringing in the sense that I spent four years in Yemen, I learned English in England first, went to boarding school in Cyprus and then we immigrated to Canada. I’ve had a very global perspective in that sense and then obviously I went to Howard University, which is an HBCU and then my mentors were African American photographers. I’m one of those photographers where I have one foot in the West and one foot in the continent. And the thing that I’ve seen is that the challenges of black people is a global phenomenon and is not just an American thing or an African thing. It’s a global conversation that has enough connecting points to address this. So showcasing at the African art museum at Smithsonian was sort of an opportunity to, in a sense come back home for me, because I started at Smithsonian when I first exhibited there in 2003, but it was also to really see how disconnected we are as the global diaspora and how the challenges we face are slightly different but at the same time there is a lot of similarities within that.
[…] There is always misconception but that misconception can only change if we are part of that conversation. Not the foreign gaze but sort of our own internal gaze to understand ourselves better and also have the world understand who we are.
OM: There are these artists and photographers that are intuitive and others who rely vastly on research and preparation. Where do you stand between these types of artists?
AM: It’s what works for you, I can tell for myself and I can’t speak for other artists, but to me, it has to emotionally provoke me. It has to be something that’s related to my life because I can only do things that I can relate to as opposed to things that I know nothing about. I used to say an artist is really someone who vomits what’s inside of them and presents it to the world with a nakedness and with the truth of love with it. What I’m presenting is really just my emotions. That’s what I’m sharing with the world.
Aida Muluneh, Dinknesh (Part One), 2016, VIVIANEART
OM: What’s the significance of consistently using primary colors in your work?
AM: The first intention was that, if I would have been a painter, I would have been a painter but I can’t seem to draw so the painting of the body is the expression of my frustration about not being able to paint and draw. But […] The key thing is that I’m looking at it as the beginning stages of my artistic life even as a painter you start with primary colors before you start mixing colors. I’m looking at it as phases and that’s the first part. The second part is that a lot of it comes from the Orthodox Church paintings in Ethiopia, which are heavily based on primary colors. If you come to Ethiopia and look at a church painting, you’ll find that these colors exist within our culture. I don’t know when eventually I move away from primary colors but these are what I feel comfortable with now and it’s what I feel inside and also what I want to express seems to come out of these colors. It’s strong colors but there is also darkness within each image. The color attracts you because you wonder what the hell is that, normally in a festival or any fair, I know my images are there; you can see them from a mile away and that brings people closer. The whole point is that I’m attracting people to the colors but I’m having a multi-layered conversation within each frame.
OM: Women, primary colors and exploring identity are the most striking elements in your photos. How do these elements connect to your African experience?
AM: Yes, I’ve been asked that before, whether I photograph men, and I have tried it before, but I realize I’m attracted to a very female-led conversation because I’m a woman trying to express my feelings, my emotions, my experience. And these females’ characters are like actors in a film so even the use of the color is a strong message that I’m trying to convey. It’s basically like you are in a buffet getting ready to eat and you are going to pick the meals you like. So these are the colors I like so far and if you notice the work, it’s very graphical, because I’m trying to create a sort of a flat, almost like a stamp, of my work that is removed of shadows. I’m very particular of how I shoot technically and even the posing and the gaze are very strong of each woman, because I’m trying to portray that regardless of circumstances and challenges, I feel that as women, especially within the continent we have endured a lot, but at the same time we are maintaining our strength and our dignity. And a lot of this goes back to our roots and culture, so within that, there is specific coding that I put in that an Ethiopian coming to the exhibition would recognize. For foreigners, they see the graphical elements of it, but what I hope for is an exploration for them to be like oh what is this great Ethiopia. Honestly, if I wasn’t back home, I don’t think I would be creating this work, because it is being Ethiopian that’s inspired me to approach my work in this way and to have these types of conversations.
OM: Your work communicates well in many countries that you have shown your work. How do people in Ethiopia respond to your work?
AM: Very positively. It was very surprising to me because the comments I’ve received from artists is that I’m basically showing that photography is art. And that it’s not just for documentation or commercial purposes and that you can use any tools as long as you are expressing something specific. Some audiences in the West think that they are actually paintings, that is kind of funny to me since they are photographs. Even at the MOMA, somebody asked me what are these paintings, or if I’ve made a collage? And I said no this is actually photoshopped, body paint and clothing. It’s a very simple production line. People say that I’m doing something highly sophisticated; even the whole body paint is not a new idea. It’s just what I’m expressing and how I’m piecing it together. It might be new to people but again it’s pushing photography into a different realm that you can create and work that expresses a specific message but anyone looking at it at a minimum they’ll be like ‘what is this?’. They will remember it and it will sort of burn into their brain, where they realize that they didn’t know that you can do this with photography and didn't realize that you can have such a strong statement using photography outside of a commercial application.
Aida Muluneh, Rules of engagement, 2016, David Krut Projects.
OM: You went to film school and experienced dark room in your high school first. What’s the impact of school for people who want to pursue art or photography? Does it direct them in the right direction or ties their hands, creatively?
AM: The last class I took for photography was also the first class, which was in high school at the age of 16, where I had the opportunity to be in the dark room. When I went to Howard, I was actually in the school of business. My plan was to become a lawyer and also do international law. But the guy at the communications department saw my work and told me that I’m in the wrong department and switched me to communications which gave me the opportunity, not only for the creative side but on the technical aspect of it too, and also to understand the impact of media and communication. Most recently I was asked this question that, ‘do you need to go to school to be a photographer?’ and to me not necessarily. The one thing that an education can give you is giving you a broader sense of what is already out there and also to prepare you of how to use your tools. But in the end, when you graduate, it’s about what you are going to do with those tools that you learned? Because, as I mentioned, teaching technical is the easiest part, the difficult part is teaching creativity and that is either God given to you as a natural talent or it’s something that you have to work towards.
Aida Muluneh, Strength in Honor, 2016, David Krut Projects.
OM: What should change in people’s perspective regarding Africa, African art and more specifically Ethiopia?
AM: It’s a complex continent and Africa is not just one country. It has such a rich place, which is a continent where you see the presence of the past, present, and the future. What the world is only really seeing is either the past or some part of the present and they are not able to imagine the future of the continent. Now especially with the movie ‘Black Panther’, which borrowed a great deal not only from Africa but also from Ethiopia, it’s changing the dialogue in regards to afrofuturism. I think you have to bear in mind that there isn’t a single story and this is the conversation I’m trying to have for Westerners to understand that it’s not just about one story. There are many stories. I remember once, I was asking people in a presentation, when they think about Paris, what do they think of and they said the Eiffel Tower, or when they think about New York, they think of the statue of Liberty. And when I asked about Africa, their answer was animals, starvation or traditional culture. Nobody can imagine the contemporary of the continent. As a person, who is contemporary in so many ways, I’m trying to show the world that there is this diversity that exists within the continent. A lot of times, when people come to Ethiopia, they think within one mindset, but when they get there, they say wow we never imagined that this place has so many different things and so many cultures, and contemporary activities. So the conversation I’m trying to lead is that our perception should not be limited to our cultural background and what we think about the places we don’t know much about.


text:
Life after Manus: Talking to Iranian cartoonist Eaten Fish about life in and out of Australia’s detention camps · Global Voices
Mong Palatino

A cartoon by Eaten Fish, drawn while he was detained at Manus Island. Source: Facebook. Published with permission
Ali Dorani was 21 when he arrived at Australia’s Christmas Island by boat seeking asylum, on July 2013. After six months, he was transferred to Manus Island, Australia’s offshore detention camp in Papua New Guinea, where he would stay for the next four years of his life.
He began drawing cartoons at Manus to cope with his Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) while documenting his and other asylum-seekers’ situation inside the camp. He adopted the pen name ‘Eaten Fish’, alluding to his being rescued from the sea in 2013. “
His cartoons depicting the condition of refugees at Manus began being published by the media nearly three years into his detention. Some of them reflected his deteriorating health and the sexual abuses he experienced at the camp.
In 2016, the Cartoonists Rights Network International granted him the Courage in Editorial Cartooning Award for his work. The citation of his award reads: “His cartoons will someday be recognized as important, world-class chronicles of the worst human behavior since the World War II concentration camps.”
Australia has been widely criticized for the conditions at the Manus Island camp. The United Nations has declared the country's policy of indefinite detention at the offshore camp “cruel, inhuman and degrading punishment”.
Ali was released in December 2017 following a global campaign calling for his freedom. He arrived in Stavanger, Norway, on December 17 through the sponsorship of the International Cities of Refuge Network.
Through email, we interviewed Ali almost a year after leaving Manus, something that Ali described as “exiting to freedom”. He talked about his life after detention, his experience at the refugee camp, and his words of advice to others artists facing persecution.
Ali revealed that while he is happy with his new life in Norway, he had a difficult time adjusting:
After two weeks I fell into a deep depression, and this kind of depression was even stronger than I had in Manus Island, and it took me around four or five months until, with a help from psychologist, and some friends, I got bit better and started communicating with a lot of people and making a new life happen.
He recalled his decision to draw cartoons after a medical officer suggested he engaged in an activity in order to cope with his OCD, but even that was not easy — among other things, detainees were deprived of pen and paper.
I kept drawing until I was moved to Manus Island in 2014, and I didn't have enough paper, I didn't have enough pencils, and I had to steal papers from workers, I had to find a little paper to draw on, and it took me two years and a half to send my drawings out. And it was the only reason I think that I am still alive. Art didn't help my mental situation to be healthy, but it helped to send my voice out to the people in the outside world. It was art which saved me, it was art which saved my life.
His drawings first caught the attention of medical workers and immigration staff at Christmas Island, and then later on at Manus Island. Then, Australian media took notice of his art, which put into the spotlight his situation at Manus:
I wasn't a political cartoonist at first, so I just started documenting my life and my own struggles, and I don't know what happened, one day when I opened my eyes and I have been published in different press companies and I was on the news, a lot of people knew me in Australia, and it gave me more hope to keep myself alive, and I didn't have any idea that drawings were going to give me freedom one day.
Photo of Ali Dorani giving a drawing class in Norway. Source: Facebook. Used with permission
This is Ali’s reminder to struggling artists, especially young artists facing persecution:
Don't stop, don't stop what you're doing. Keep drawing, keep cartooning, keep sending your voice out. It takes time, it's difficult but it will work, it worked for me. Don't get tired.
I asked for help for five years and I got it. I got my freedom after five years asking from different people. Asking is not shameful. Asking for help is not shameful.
He also urged groups offering help to Manus refugees to reject the sharing of false information about the situation at the camp. “Truth helped me. Truth helped me to get my freedom back. It took a lot of time but it worked.”

author: Mong Palatino


text:
Algerian TV network director files defamation case against independent journalists · Global Voices
Afef Abrougui

A painted portrait of 82-year-old Algerian President Abdelaziz Bouteflika, who is seeking a fifth presidential term. Photo: Thierry Ehrmann, courtesy of Organ Museum
Two Algerian journalists were released from detention on November 8, after spending more than two weeks behind bars on defamation charges.
Police arrested Abdou Semmar, the editor-in-chief of Algérie Part and a former Global Voices contributor, along with one of the site's journalists, Merouane Boudiab, on October 23. The arrests came after Anis Rahmani, the director of the privately-owned Ennahar TV, filed a defamation complaint against them. Another complaint was filed by the governor of Algiers, Abdelkader Zoukh.
An Algiers court ordered the two journalists released on November 8 pending further investigation. The public prosecutor is seeking a one-year prison sentence and a fine of 100k Algerian dinars (USD $842), while lawyers for Rahmani and Zoukh are seeking two million (USD 16,855$) and 50 million dinars (USD $421,377) in damages, respectively, in a civil suit against the journalists.
Algérie Part has done extensive coverage of allegations of corruption against Zoukh. They have also been critical of Rahmani and his media group, reporting that Ennahar TV has been spreading lies and rumours. Yet neither of the plaintiffs have said publicly what they find defamatory in Algérie Part's reporting.
Although Ennahar TV is privately owned, it is reported to have strong ties with the ruling government. Private broadcasters in Algeria must obtain authorisation from the state in order to operate. A 2016 country report by Freedom House said the regulation “sharply limits the extent to which private stations can provide independent news programming, in part by restricting airtime devoted to news.”
Algérie Part describes its editorial line as “totally independent” and rooted in “civic values”. The website prioritises coverage of news and events related to development, justice, human rights, socio-economic protests, governance and corruption. They also explicitly support the right to freedom of expression.
Prior to the arrests, Algérie Part and its journalists were the targets of a campaign of online threats and cyber-attacks.
On October 17, the Paris-based digital rights organisation Internet Without Borders, for which Semmar works as a correspondent, published a statement denouncing the campaign:
Internet Without Borders is extremely alarmed by the proliferation of cyberbullying campaigns against journalists, bloggers and activists investigating bad governance, especially corruption, within the state and the business community , in Algeria. This is the case of journalists of investigation website Algerie-Part, who are regularly targeted by defaming attacks, threats, abusive judicial proceedings, DDoS attacks, and constant harassment on the Internet.
This is not the first time that Semmar has faced such threats. In 2015, a satirical TV show he was co-hosting was shut down due to political pressure.
A third journalist, Adlène Mellah, director of the news websites Algérie Direct and Dzair Presse, was also arrested on 22 October, which coincides with Algeria's National Press Freedom Day. His arrest also came after a complaint filed by Rahmani. He remains in prison and he is reportedly set to appear in court on November 11. Mellah and his editor-in-chief Khelaf Benhadda were also arrested in June 2018 for covering a story related to trafficking of cocaine.
In December 2016, Algerian journalist and blogger Mohammad Tamalt died after staging a hunger strike to protest his arrest. At the time Tamalt was serving a two-year jail sentence for publishing on Facebook a poem and a video that contained comments that were deemed disparaging towards Bouteflika and then-Prime Minister Abdelmalek Sellal.
Two years after Tamalt's death, the situation for press freedom remains precarious. Independent journalists and voices who cover corruption, misconduct by the police and protests face legal threats from state authorities, as do those who report on president Abdelaziz Bouteflika, who has been in office since 1999.
Earlier this year, a court in the city of Bejaia sentenced blogger Merzoug Touati to ten years in prison for conducting and posting online an interview with an Israeli official as part of his coverage of anti austerity protests that too place in early 2017.
Said Chitour, a freelance journalist and media fixer who collaborated with international media outlets including the BBC, France24 and the Washington Post, has been in detention for 17 months. Authorities accuse him of “sharing intelligence with a foreign power”, a crime that could result in a possible life sentence under article 65 of the criminal code, Reporters Without Borders said.
In a message addressed to Algerian journalists on their National Press Freedom Day, president Bouteflika emphasised the “importance of developing a professional and independent press” in the country. Yet the Algerian government continues to treat some journalists as adversaries.
“When we denounce corruption and favouritism, it’s an act of patriotism. It is not that we hate our country,” Semmar said in a video a day before he was arrested. “We are not enemies of Algeria..we are an actor of stability, seeking to drive the country in the right direction”.
While he welcomed Bouteflika's message as “positive” he called on the authorities to respect journalists’ rights:
journalists don’t need homage during ceremonies. They need respect of their dignity and freedom and to be allowed to work within a [favourable] judicial framework.
In April 2019, elections will be held and 82-year old Bouteflika will seek a fifth term as president. Journalists are concerned that the crackdown will only intensify, in an effort to stifle critical reporting and commentary on government leaders seeking re-election.

author: Afef Abrougui


text:
Russia’s most progressive media outlet finds itself on the wrong side of #MeToo · Global Voices
RuNet Echo

Ivan Kolpakov, ex-editor in chief of Meduza, who stepped down after harassment allegations // Ivan Kolpakov's profile image on Facebook
“You’re the only person at this party I can harass and get away with it.”
Ivan Kolpakov, editor-in-chief of Russian investigative news site Meduza, uttered these words as he grabbed a colleague's wife by the backside at a staff party.
In late October 2018, Galina Timchenko, the founder and publisher of Meduza, posted a message on her Facebook page saying that Kolpakov had been accused of inappropriate behavior at a staff party and stepped down pending further inquiry by Meduza’s board of directors.
The scene described above was soon in the news, thanks to leaks from the newsroom and investigations by other media outlets, along with Meduza’s own statements on social media.  It sent shock waves throughout the Russian media industry.
Meduza is a Russian-language news outlet based in the neighboring Latvia where it was founded by the former editorial team of Lenta.ru, a once independent news website that in 2014 suffered a hostile takeover by a Kremlin-loyal publisher. Having set up base close to its target audience in Russia but far enough out of reach of the Kremlin’s censors, Meduza quickly became one of Russia’s most popular online news sources.
It also has the reputation of a rare champion of liberal values, publishing bold editorials condemning sexual harassment and leading a media boycott against a powerful lawmaker accused of groping women reporters in the halls of the Russian parliament.
Now available in English: read Meduza's editorial calling for State Duma deputy Leonid Slutsky's resignation. He's charged with sexually harassing multiple journalists.https://t.co/wi3ThAxPgR
— Meduza in English (@meduza_en) 7 марта 2018 г.
But Meduza’s own progressive credentials came under a fierce attack as its own sexual harassment scandal unfolded, and the groping incident from the staff party became public knowledge. When the woman’s husband, who works at Meduza as a software developer, complained to the management, Kolpakov apologized to her and her spouse and stepped down as the publication’s editor — for two weeks.
He formally censured by the board of directors, and then reinstated. Meduza’s management deemed his actions inappropriate, but inconsistent with previous behavior and not grave enough for complete dismissal.
Ugly details kept piling up. One leak outed both the woman and her husband, despite their clear reluctance to be at the center of a public scandal. When Meduza’s management reinstated Kolpakov, the victim’s husband resigned in protest as Meduza’s software developer.
Soon thereafter, it was revealed that Meduza, with its vocally progressive editorial line, didn’t even have an anti-harassment policy in place.
Pretty amazing that Meduza published a Q&A called “My boss is hitting on me. What do I do?” last year but *didn't actually have a sexual harassment policy* to deal with this incident https://t.co/hYQCPhPj5x
— max seddon (@maxseddon) 7 ноября 2018 г.
A few supporters came to Meduza and Kolpakov’s defence, citing Meduza’s impeccable track record, calling Kolpakov a good friend and a great editor, regardless of his abusive behavior towards women.
Some downplayed the severity of the incident while others blamed the victim’s husband for not “dealing with Kolpakov like a proper man should have,” instead of making the scandal public and undermining his own publication. The tribalism of these statements caused yet more indignation:
Russian opposition press strategy: to ignore harassment because ‘he's a dearest friend and the best editor in the country’
— Anya Shevchenko (@annamshevchenko) 8 ноября 2018 г.
Meduza’s statements and the outpouring of support caused a furor on social media, with loyalists pro-Kremlin outlets and commentators cheekily pointing out the hypocrisy of Meduza’s flawed liberal agenda and their failure to practice what they preach.
Many Russian feminists joined in the outrage. One, Nika Vodwood, wrote on Facebook:
Что-ж, Иван Колпаков сказал, что ему «за это ничего не будет» — так и случилось. Мир все то же говно, мудаки все так же без каких-либо последствий домогаются до женщин, и их жалеют, поздравляют и покрывают. Медуза — лицемерное говно, и никакие «прогрессивные» материалы не помогут это отмыть. Очень сочувствую сотрудницам издания и всем женщинам, которые лишний раз увидели, что что-то говорить бесполезно. В общем-то, я испытала это на практике сама, когда до меня домогался начальник (он все ещё начальник, а я уволилась в большой степени из-за этого). Ничего не меняется. Спасибо, Медуза.
Well, Ivan Kolpakov said that he’d “get away with it” — and so he did. The world is crap, assholes can still harass women with no consequences, they will be comforted, congratulated and their actions covered up. Meduza is hypocritical crap, and no “progressive” editorializing can make up for it. My heart goes out to their female employees and all the women who have learned yet another lesson: it’s pointless to speak out. I myself have suffered through the same in practice, when my superior harassed me (he’s still the boss and I had to resign largely because of it.) Nothing changes. Thank you, Meduza.
Adding more fuel to the fire, a short promotional video for Sol’ (Salt), a magazine in Kolpakov’s native town of Perm, surfaced on YouTube. In the 23-second clip, Kolpakov is shown chasing women down the street and pulling up their skirts. The video immediately was immediately removed from YouTube, citing nudity violations, but was quickly re-uploaded to other social media. What probably looked like a fun idea for a viral ad at the time dealt another major blow to Kolpakov’s reputation.
On November 8, Meduza’s English website put out a neutral, balanced recap of the events which included a few critical comments — and triggered yet another wave of consternation, as the flagship Russian website had been totally silent about the harassment scandal in its ranks up to that point. The recap piece had yet to appear in Russian as of November 9.
Many found the fact that Meduza chose to publish the piece in English first — a move clearly intended to address its relatively small foreign audience — disrespectful of its Russian readers. Others pointed out that the piece lacked some critical (and self-incriminating) details.
Sadly, Meduza forgot to quote its CEO Galina Timchenko as saying “Ivan is also the best editor in our country. And people who say they’ve never made mistakes or behaved in an ugly or inappropriate way are either plain liars or bastards”https://t.co/1s8sOunz7e
— Лиза Фохт (@lizafoht) 8 ноября 2018 г.
@meduza_en I hope feedback via twitter is appropriate.
1. Had @kolpakov quit yesterday, everyone would praise him as a brave and responsible man.
2. Had Meduza screened out him yesterday, everyone would praise Meduza as a company of integrity.
3. Meduza is going the wrong way.
— Русские летописи (@letopisi_rus) 8 ноября 2018 г.
Finally, on Friday November 9, Kolpakov announced his resignation in a news story on Meduza’s Russian site — but it was too little, too late. The announcement quoted Kolpakov as saying: “This is the only way of neutralizing the crisis that’s engulfed the editorial team and minimizing the reputational damage.”
The news story made no mention of the nature of the allegations against Kolpakov. In a subsequent Facebook post Kolpakov appeared even less repentant and more confrontational. He said:
С этой минуты я не главный редактор «Медузы».
Я ухожу, потому что не вижу иного выхода. Потому что так будет лучше для «Медузы».
Все же позволю себе сказать, как я это чувствую. Я ухожу, потому что мне больно видеть, как вы уничтожаете то, что я строил. Потому что мне противна несправедливость. Потому что не все, что сломалось, нужно обязательно чинить.
По поводу так называемого инцидента. Я категорически отказываюсь признавать обвинения в харассменте и сексуальных домогательствах. Но я оказался в ситуации, когда невозможно и бессмысленно себя защищать. Впрочем, об этом как-нибудь в другой раз.
Effective immediately, I am no longer Meduza’s chief editor.
I’m quitting because I can see no other way out of this. Because it’s better for Meduza.
Let me finally say what I feel about this. I’m quitting because it’s painful to see you destroy what I’ve been building. Because I detest injustice. Because you don’t have to fix everything that’s broken.
Now, in regards to the so-called incident. I categorically refuse to accept the allegations of harassment and sexual impropriety. But I’m in a situation where defending oneself is impossible and pointless. But I’ll get there one day.
Kolpakov also added that he wasn’t leaving Meduza altogether, but will still be working with the publication in some non-managerial capacity. Not only did he refuse to accept responsibility for his alleged behavior, he also contradicted his own earlier Facebook statement where he admitted to an “ugly escapade” and “hurting an employee’s wife” while extremely drunk. RT Russian’s Twitter account snarkily noted:
В комментариях к посту Колпакова, в котором он отрицает обвинения в харассменте, читатели интересуются, за что же тогда извинялся Колпаков.
И действительно
— RT на русском (@RT_russian) 9 ноября 2018 г.
Under Kolpakov’s [Facebook] post, where he denies the allegations of sexual harassment, his followers are asking him: why say sorry [in an earlier post] then?
Why indeed.
Sergey Elkin, a popular cartoonist, offered a satirical take on Meduza’s failure to live up to its own progressive standards:
лан, это конец pic.twitter.com/Hg21hU1HZ9
— Смерть неизбѣжна (@death_is_invtbl) 9 ноября 2018 г.
okay, this is the end
The scandal has left Russia’s fragile independent media scene shattered, bitter and more factionalized than ever. In a pyrrhic victory for Russia’s #metoo movement, one of its biggest supporters has become the first-ever man to publicly resign over sexual assault accusations in Russia.

author: RuNet Echo


text:
Western Saharan media activist Bashir Khadda suspends 45-day hunger strike in Moroccan prison · Global Voices
Ivar Fersters

Gdeim Izik camp in 2010. Photo by Miquel Garcia (CC BY-SA 2.5)
Media activist Bashir Khadda did not eat solid food for 45 days.
The 32-year-old activist from Western Sahara worked primarily with Equipe Media before he was arrested in 2010 and convicted of “complicity in violence” against security forces in 2013. He is now in solitary confinement in Morocco's Talfit prison.
Khadda began a hunger strike on September 18. When his health seriously deteriorated, family members pleaded with him to give up the strike, fearing for his life. Khadda suspended the strike on November 2, though he says the suspension is temporary. His coworkers and friends among the Western Saharan citizen media group Equipe Media are struggling to call attention to his plight and that of other Sahrawi political prisoners in Moroccan jails.
Khadda hails from El-Aiún in Moroccan-controlled Western Sahara, a disputed territory in northwest Africa. As previously reported by Global Voices, Khadda is one among the so-called “Gdeim Izik 25″, a group of 25 Sahrawi political prisoners associated with a month-long uprising in the Gdeim Izik separatist camp in Western Sahara between October and November 2010.
Gdeim Izik was a camp where Western Saharan activists lived and demanded the end of Moroccan occupation of Western Sahara and the Moroccan government's systemic marginalization of the indigenous Sahrawi people. In November 2010, Moroccan police and security forces dispersed the camp and riots ensued, leading to the deaths of both police and protestors, in addition to hundreds of injuries and a wave of mass arrests.
Multiple activists associated with the protest movement were later arrested, including Khadda, who was arrested, blindfolded and handcuffed along with two other men at a café in El-Aiún more than a month after the dispersal of Gdeim Izik.
Bashir Khadda. Photo by Equipe Media, used with permission.
Although he was tried along with many activists who were at Gdeim Izik, Khadda denies ever being at the site of the camp on the day police took over. As a coordinator of video archives at Equipe Media, Khadda carried out his work from the city of El-Aiún by receiving footage from reporters at the scene, according to his friend and Equipe Media colleague, Mohammed.
A founding member of Equipe Media, Khadda was tried together with other defendants in the Gdeim Izik 25 group before a military tribunal in 2013. The activists were accused of forming and belonging to a ”criminal group” and committing violence against members of the security forces.
Khadda was sentenced to 20 years in prison for “entering into a criminal agreement” and “complicity in violence against security force member leading to death with intent”. Although the defendants were later granted a re-trial before a civilian court, their sentences, including that of Khadda, were largely upheld. In July 2017, a civilian court in the city of Salé (near the Moroccan capital Rabat) sentenced eight of the 25 activists to life in prison. These include two other activists affiliated with Equipe Media, Abdullahi Lakfawani and Hassana Alia, who was sentenced in absentia after he fled to Spain. A third activist affiliated with the group, Hassan Dah, was sentenced to 25 years in prison. They have since faced hardships similar to those of Khadda.
International observers reported that the trial was tainted with irregularities. Khadda and other defendants said that they were subjected to torture and other forms of abuse to extract confessions.
Khadda was forced to sign a pre-written confession that he was not allowed to read or review. He told an investigating judge in May 2011 that police forced him to sign the confession document while blindfolded.
The pre-written confessions were the only evidence presented against the defendants in both the 2013 and 2017 trials.
Mohammed recalled scenes from the 2013 trial:
It was a very political trial. Family members of the accused were prevented from attending because the court was filled with security officials and Moroccan settlers with flags and banners. Many politicians attended and held demonstrations outside in support of families of the victims [security officers killed in the riots]. Many Sahrawis felt frightened to attend, although there were some international observers present.
In the civilian re-trial last year a similar scene played out. Pro-Morocco demonstrators were brought in equipped with flags and speakers, creating a very intimidating environment for relatives and supporters of the defendants, international observers Tone Sørfonn Moe and Isabel Lourenco reported.
Mohammed says that Khadda was transferred to Talfit prison outside Rabat immediately after the 2017 re-trial and was there placed in solitary confinement with 23 hours a day spent in complete isolation from other prisoners. Authorities routinely deny Khadda his right to family visits. Mohammed said:
As for now Bashir’s brother is the only one who dares visit him. His sister was sexually harassed when trying and the distance is too far for his elderly parents to travel. It has now been three years since he last saw his father. His brother says he was beaten and insulted by prison guards, they have confiscated all books and other items he tried to bring him and they reduced the time of visit to only five minutes.
Khadda launched his hunger strike with two demands: to be transferred to a prison closer to home where he can receive family visits, and to be allowed to study in accordance with the international minimum standard of prisoner’s rights. He is a master's student of law at Mohammed V University in Rabat, but prison authorities denied him further contact with his professors.
Although these two demands remain unmet, Khadda suspended his hunger strike at the urging of his family.
After a five-minute visit by Khadda’s brother a few days before suspending the strike it was clear that his health is swiftly deteriorating, Mohammed told Global Voices:
Bashir’s brother cried when he called me afterwards…he lost his ability to speak or to walk and is now confined to a wheelchair.
Thus far, according to Mohammed, Khadda has not received any medical attention during the course of the strike and has only received further threats and mockery from prison staff.
Upon receiving the news of Khadda’s deteriorating health, Equipe Media released a short video featuring interviews with his family. In the video, his brother reaffirmed Bashir’s innocence laments the fact that doing media activism in Western Sahara can result in a 20-year jail sentence. In the video, Khadda's mother is seen pleading for her son to give up the strike before she bursts into tears.
In response to his parents’ desperate pleas, Khadda temporarily suspended the hunger strike on November 2, but he is vowing to resume it unless his demands are taken seriously.
Learn about the physiological effects of a hunger strike with the infographic below, created by our partners at Visualizing Impact.

author: Ivar Fersters


text:
Amid police raids and vigilante threats, Brazilians fear for freedom of expression in public universities · Global Voices
Fabíola Hauch

Police seized a banner that said “more books, fewer guns” in a university in Paraíba following a court ruling that deemed it “partisan propaganda”. Photo: Screenshot GloboNews
Police raids on university campuses targetting leftist demonstrations. An escalating campaign encouraging students to denounce professors who criticize the president-elect. Opponents of Jair Bolsonaro are bracing themselves for a ideological persecution and an overall crackdown on freedom of expression in public spaces in Latin America’s largest democracy.
On October 28, Brazil elected far-right Jair Bolsonaro as its next president. The former army captain and congressman publicly expresses homophobic, misogynist and racist views, advocates violence against his political opponents and threatens the press.
On October 26, around 30 universities in Brazil were subject to police raids following coordinated rulings by multiple regional electoral courts. Justice officials confiscated banners and flags and banned demonstrations in defence of democracy and against fascism as the courts ruled they constituted illegal political-partisan propaganda. Many public authorities and civil society figures called the raids a blatant act of censorship by Brazil's judiciary.
Jair Bolsonaro spoke in support of the raids soon thereafter on a live broadcast on his Facebook page:
A universidade não é lugar [de protesto], mas, se querem fazer um ato desse, os dois lados têm que ter o direito de fazer.
The university is not the place for [protests], but, if they want to hold this kind of event, both sides must have the right to do it.
On October 27, one day before Brazilians cast their ballots, Justice Court Cármen Lúcia suspended all rulings. In her decision, she stated:
Daí ali ser expressamente assegurado pela Constituição da República a liberdade de aprender e de ensinar e de divulgar livremente o pensamento, porque sem a manifestação garantida o pensamento é ideia engaiolada.
Também o pluralismo de ideias está na base da autonomia universitária como extensão do princípio fundante da democracia brasileira, que é exposta no inc. V do art. 1o. da Constituição do Brasil. Pensamento único é para ditadores. Verdade absoluta é para tiranos. A democracia é plural em sua essência. E é esse princípio que assegura a igualdade de direitos individuais na diversidade dos indivíduos.
Thus the Constitution of the Republic expressly guarantees the freedom to learn and to teach and to freely share thought, because without guaranteed [right to] demonstration, thought is an imprisoned idea. Pluralism of ideas is also at the foundation of university autonomy as an extension of the founding principle of Brazilian democracy, which is written in inc. V of article 1 of Brazil’s Constitution.“Pensée unique” is for dictators. Absolute truth is for tyrants. Democracy is plural in its essence. And it is this principle that guarantees the equality of individual rights in the diversity of individuals.
Jair Bolsonaro is an enthusiastic supporter of the right-wing campaign “Escola sem Partido” (“school without political parties”), which calls to outlaw a supposed “leftist indoctrination” in public schools and impose instead a conservative curriculum. As the movement becomes more popular, it also fosters a climate of fear and surveillance in schools and other public institutions.
Many famous supporters of the campaign were elected to Brazil's national and state legislatures on October 28, including Ana Campagnolo, a history teacher who, in 2017, sued her Master's Degree supervisor for discriminating her based on her “Christian, conservative, and anti-feminist” identities. An initial ruling decided in favor of the supervisor, but Campagnolo appealed and a second ruling is pending.
Hours before the elections results were confirmed, Campagnolo made a call on Facebook profile (she has over 88,000 followers) for students to film episodes in their schools that they believe were cases of “indoctrination”, making sure they included in the video “the teacher's name, the school's name, and the city”. A WhatsApp number was provided for students to send the videos.
Interviewed by the website Nexo before the elections, University of Brasília professor Luiz Araújo said that people are in fear, and that fear is “people's worst enemy”.
Em Pernambuco, um bispo católico foi notificado para que se abstivesse de fazer propaganda eleitoral na Igreja. O poder público não pode dizer o que ele pode ou não falar na igreja. E tem de ter isonomia nesse tratamento, pois não vi nenhuma igreja evangélica recebendo esse tratamento, apesar das campanhas ostensivas que elas têm feito. Nenhuma delas foi fechada. Então há também uma escolha de alvos, não é uma repressão generalizada. (…) São dois pesos e duas medidas. Tem um empoderamento das visões conservadoras dentro do aparato do Estado muito, muito perigosa.
In Pernambuco, a Catholic bishop was told to abstain from making electoral propaganda in the church. But the public authorities cannot say what he can or cannot speak in church. And there has to be isonomy in that treatment, as I have not seen any evangelical church receiving such treatment, despite the obvious campaigns that they have been conducting. None of them were closed. So there is also a choice of targets, it is not a generalized repression (…) There is a double standard. There is an empowerment of conservative ideas inside of the state apparatus that is very, very dangerous.

author: Fabíola Hauch