• A firsthand report of ‘inhumane conditions’ at a migrant children’s detention facility | PBS NewsHour

    Editor’s Note: After our broadcast, CPB responded to our request for comment with the following statement:

    U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) leverages our limited resources to provide the best care possible to those in our custody, especially children. As DHS and CBP leadership have noted numerous times, our short-term holding facilities were not designed to hold vulnerable populations and we urgently need additional humanitarian funding to manage this crisis. CBP works closely with our partners at the Department of Health and Human Services to transfer unaccompanied children to their custody as soon as placement is identified, and as quickly and expeditiously as possible to ensure proper care.

    All allegations of civil rights abuses or mistreatment in CBP detention are taken seriously and investigated to the fullest extent possible.

    The Associated Press details grave conditions inside a Texas migrant detention facility where 250 infants, children and teenagers were being held without adequate food, water or sanitation during a recent visit. Warren Binford, a law professor at Willamette University, joins William Brangham to share her firsthand account, what Border Patrol agents think and what’s next for these children.

    #états-unis #migrations #enfants #camps_de_concentration

  • Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and the Unimaginable Reality of American Concentration Camps | The New Yorker

    Like many arguments, the fight over the term “concentration camp” is mostly an argument about something entirely different. It is not about terminology. Almost refreshingly, it is not an argument about facts. This argument is about imagination, and it may be a deeper, more important conversation than it seems.

    In a Monday-evening live stream, Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, of New York, called the U.S.’s detention facilities for migrants “concentration camps.” On Tuesday, she tweeted a link to an article in Esquire in which Andrea Pitzer, a historian of concentration camps, was quoted making the same assertion: that the United States has created a “concentration camp system.” Pitzer argued that “mass detention of civilians without a trial” was what made the camps concentration camps.

    #états-unis #migrations #enfants #camps_de_concentration

  • Call immigrant detention centers what they really are: concentration camps

    If you were paying close attention last week, you might have spotted a pattern in the news. Peeking out from behind the breathless coverage of the Trump family’s tuxedoed trip to London was a spate of deaths of immigrants in U.S. custody: Johana Medina Léon, a 25-year-old transgender asylum seeker; an unnamed 33-year-old Salvadoran man; and a 40-year-old woman from Honduras.

    Photos from a Border Patrol processing center in El Paso showed people herded so tightly into cells that they had to stand on toilets to breathe. Memos surfaced by journalist Ken Klippenstein revealed that Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s failure to provide medical care was responsible for suicides and other deaths of detainees. These followed another report that showed that thousands of detainees are being brutally held in isolation cells just for being transgender or mentally ill.

    Also last week, the Trump administration cut funding for classes, recreation and legal aid at detention centers holding minors — which were likened to “summer camps” by a senior ICE official last year. And there was the revelation that months after being torn from their parents’ arms, 37 children were locked in vans for up to 39 hours in the parking lot of a detention center outside Port Isabel, Texas. In the last year, at least seven migrant children have died in federal custody.

    Preventing mass outrage at a system like this takes work. Certainly it helps that the news media covers these horrors intermittently rather than as snowballing proof of a racist, lawless administration. But most of all, authorities prevail when the places where people are being tortured and left to die stay hidden, misleadingly named and far from prying eyes.

    There’s a name for that kind of system. They’re called concentration camps. You might balk at my use of the term. That’s good — it’s something to be balked at.

    The goal of concentration camps has always been to be ignored. The German-Jewish political theorist Hannah Arendt, who was imprisoned by the Gestapo and interned in a French camp, wrote a few years afterward about the different levels of concentration camps. Extermination camps were the most extreme; others were just about getting “undesirable elements … out of the way.” All had one thing in common: “The human masses sealed off in them are treated as if they no longer existed, as if what happened to them were no longer of interest to anybody, as if they were already dead.”

    Euphemisms play a big role in that forgetting. The term “concentration camp” is itself a euphemism. It was invented by a Spanish official to paper over his relocation of millions of rural families into squalid garrison towns where they would starve during Cuba’s 1895 independence war. When President Franklin D. Roosevelt ordered Japanese Americans into prisons during World War II, he initially called them concentration camps. Americans ended up using more benign names, like “Manzanar Relocation Center.”

    Even the Nazis’ camps started out small, housing criminals, Communists and opponents of the regime. It took five years to begin the mass detention of Jews. It took eight, and the outbreak of a world war, for the first extermination camps to open. Even then, the Nazis had to keep lying to distract attention, claiming Jews were merely being resettled to remote work sites. That’s what the famous signs — Arbeit Macht Frei, or “Work Sets You Free” — were about.

    Subterfuge doesn’t always work. A year ago, Americans accidentally became aware that the Trump administration had adopted (and lied about) a policy of ripping families apart at the border. The flurry of attention was thanks to the viral conflation of two separate but related stories: the family-separation order and bureaucrats’ admission that they’d been unable to locate thousands of migrant children who’d been placed with sponsors after crossing the border alone.

    Trump shoved that easily down the memory hole. He dragged his heels a bit, then agreed to a new policy: throwing whole families into camps together. Political reporters posed irrelevant questions, like whether President Obama had been just as bad, and what it meant for the midterms. Then they moved on.

    It is important to note that Trump’s aides have built this system of racist terror on something that has existed for a long time. Several camps opened under Obama, and as president he deported millions of people.

    But Trump’s game is different. It certainly isn’t about negotiating immigration reform with Congress. Trump has made it clear that he wants to stifle all non-white immigration, period. His mass arrests, iceboxes and dog cages are part of an explicitly nationalist project to put the country under the control of the right kind of white people.

    As a Republican National Committee report noted in 2013: “The nation’s demographic changes add to the urgency of recognizing how precarious our position has become.” The Trump administration’s attempt to put a citizenship question on the 2020 census was also just revealed to have been a plot to disadvantage political opponents and boost “Republicans and Non-Hispanic Whites” all along.

    That’s why this isn’t just a crisis facing immigrants. When a leader puts people in camps to stay in power, history shows that he doesn’t usually stop with the first group he detains.

    There are now at least 48,000 people detained in ICE facilities, which a former official told BuzzFeed News “could swell indefinitely.” Customs and Border Protection officials apprehended more than 144,000 people on the Southwest border last month. (The New York Times dutifully reported this as evidence of a “dramatic surge in border crossings,” rather than what it was: The administration using its own surge of arrests to justify the rest of its policies.)

    If we call them what they are — a growing system of American concentration camps — we will be more likely to give them the attention they deserve. We need to know their names: Port Isabel, Dilley, Adelanto, Hutto and on and on. With constant, unrelenting attention, it is possible we might alleviate the plight of the people inside, and stop the crisis from getting worse. Maybe people won’t be able to disappear so easily into the iceboxes. Maybe it will be harder for authorities to lie about children’s deaths.

    Maybe Trump’s concentration camps will be the first thing we think of when we see him scowling on TV.

    The only other option is to leave it up to those in power to decide what’s next. That’s a calculated risk. As Andrea Pitzer, author of “One Long Night,” one of the most comprehensive books on the history of concentration camps, recently noted: “Every country has said their camps are humane and will be different. Trump is instinctively an authoritarian. He’ll take them as far as he’s allowed to.”

    #terminologie #vocabulaire #mots #camps #camps_de_concentration #centres_de_détention #détention_administrative #rétention #USA #Etats-Unis

    • ‘Some Suburb of Hell’: America’s New Concentration Camp System

      On Monday, New York Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez referred to US border detention facilities as “concentration camps,” spurring a backlash in which critics accused her of demeaning the memory of those who died in the Holocaust. Debates raged over a label for what is happening along the southern border and grew louder as the week rolled on. But even this back-and-forth over naming the camps has been a recurrent feature in the mass detention of civilians ever since its inception, a history that long predates the Holocaust.

      At the heart of such policy is a question: What does a country owe desperate people whom it does not consider to be its citizens? The twentieth century posed this question to the world just as the shadow of global conflict threatened for the second time in less than three decades. The dominant response was silence, and the doctrine of absolute national sovereignty meant that what a state did to people under its control, within its borders, was nobody else’s business. After the harrowing toll of the Holocaust with the murder of millions, the world revisited its answer, deciding that perhaps something was owed to those in mortal danger. From the Fourth Geneva Convention protecting civilians in 1949 to the 1989 Convention on the Rights of the Child, the international community established humanitarian obligations toward the most vulnerable that apply, at least in theory, to all nations.

      The twenty-first century is unraveling that response. Countries are rejecting existing obligations and meeting asylum seekers with walls and fences, from detainees fleeing persecution who were sent by Australia to third-party detention in the brutal offshore camps of Manus and Nauru to razor-wire barriers blocking Syrian refugees from entering Hungary. While some nations, such as Germany, wrestle with how to integrate refugees into their labor force—more and more have become resistant to letting them in at all. The latest location of this unwinding is along the southern border of the United States.

      So far, American citizens have gotten only glimpses of the conditions in the border camps that have been opened in their name. In the month of May, Customs and Border Protection reported a total of 132,887 migrants who were apprehended or turned themselves in between ports of entry along the southwest border, an increase of 34 percent from April alone. Upon apprehension, these migrants are temporarily detained by Border Patrol, and once their claims are processed, they are either released or handed over to ICE for longer-term detention. Yet Border Patrol itself is currently holding about 15,000 people, nearly four times what government officials consider to be this enforcement arm’s detention capacity.

      On June 12, the Department of Health and Human Services announced that Fort Sill, an Army post that hosted a World War II internment camp for detainees of Japanese descent, will now be repurposed to detain migrant children. In total, HHS reports that it is currently holding some 12,000 minors. Current law limits detention of minors to twenty days, though Senator Lindsey Graham has proposed expanding the court-ordered limit to 100 days. Since the post is on federal land, it will be exempt from state child welfare inspections.

      In addition to the total of detainees held by Border Patrol, an even higher number is detained at centers around the country by the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency: on a typical day at the beginning of this month, ICE was detaining more than 52,500 migrants. The family separation policy outraged the public in the 2018, but despite legal challenges, it never fully ended. Less publicized have been the deaths of twenty-four adults in ICE custody since the beginning of the Trump administration; in addition, six children between the ages of two and sixteen have died in federal custody over the last several months. It’s not clear whether there have been other deaths that have gone unreported.

      Conditions for detainees have not been improving. At the end of May, a Department of Homeland Security inspector general found nearly 900 migrants at a Texas shelter built for a capacity of 125 people. On June 11, a university professor spotted at least 100 men behind chain-link fences near the Paso del Norte Bridge in El Paso, Texas. Those detainees reported sitting outside for weeks in temperatures that soared above 100 degrees. Taylor Levy, an El Paso immigration lawyer, described going into one facility and finding “a suicidal four-year-old whose face was covered in bloody, self-inflicted scratches… Another young child had to be restrained by his mother because he kept running full-speed into metal lockers. He was covered in bruises.”

      If deciding what to do about the growing numbers of adults and children seeking refuge in the US relies on complex humanitarian policies and international laws, in which most Americans don’t take a deep interest, a simpler question also presents itself: What exactly are these camps that the Trump administration has opened, and where is this program of mass detention headed?

      Even with incomplete information about what’s happening along the border today and what the government plans for these camps, history points to some conclusions about their future. Mass detention without trial earned a new name and a specific identity at the end of the nineteenth century. The labels then adopted for the practice were “reconcentración” and “concentration camps”—places of forced relocation of civilians into detention on the basis of group identity.

      Other kinds of group detention had appeared much earlier in North American history. The US government drove Native Americans from their homelands into prescribed exile, with death and detention in transit camps along the way. Some Spanish mission systems in the Americas had accomplished similar ends by seizing land and pressing indigenous people into forced labor. During the 245 years when slavery was legal in the US, detention was one of its essential features.

      Concentration camps, however, don’t typically result from the theft of land, as happened with Native Americans, or owning human beings in a system of forced labor, as in the slave trade. Exile, theft, and forced labor can come later, but in the beginning, detention itself is usually the point of concentration camps. By the end of the nineteenth century, the mass production of barbed wire and machines guns made this kind of detention possible and practical in ways it never had been before.

      Under Spanish rule in 1896, the governor-general of Cuba instituted camps in order to clear rebel-held regions during an uprising, despite his predecessor’s written refusal “as the representative of a civilized nation, to be the first to give the example of cruelty and intransigence” that such detention would represent. After women and children began dying in vast numbers behind barbed wire because there had been little planning for shelter and even less for food, US President William McKinley made his call to war before Congress. He spoke against the policy of reconcentración, calling it warfare by uncivilized means. “It was extermination,” McKinley said. “The only peace it could beget was that of the wilderness and the grave.” Without full records, the Cuban death toll can only be estimated, but a consensus puts it in the neighborhood of 150,000, more than 10 percent of the island’s prewar population.

      Today, we remember the sinking of the USS Maine as the spark that ignited the Spanish-American War. But war correspondent George Kennan (cousin of the more famous diplomat) believed that “it was the suffering of the reconcentrados, more, perhaps, than any other one thing that brought about the intervention of the United States.” On April 25, 1898, Congress declared war. Two weeks later, US Marines landed at Fisherman’s Point on the windward side of the entrance to Guantánamo Bay in Cuba. After a grim, week-long fight, the Marines took the hill. It became a naval base, and the United States has never left that patch of land.

      As part of the larger victory, the US inherited the Philippines. The world’s newest imperial power also inherited a rebellion. Following a massacre of American troops at Balangiga in September 1901, during the third year of the conflict, the US established its own concentration camp system. Detainees, mostly women and children, were forced into squalid conditions that one American soldier described in a letter to a US senator as “some suburb of hell.” In the space of only four months, more than 11,000 Filipinos are believed to have died in these noxious camps.

      Meanwhile, in southern Africa in 1900, the British had opened their own camps during their battle with descendants of Dutch settlers in the second Boer War. British soldiers filled tent cities with Boer women and children, and the military authorities called them refugee camps. Future Prime Minister David Lloyd George took offense at that name, noting in Parliament: “There is no greater delusion in the mind of any man than to apply the term ‘refugee’ to these camps. They are not refugee camps. They are camps of concentration.” Contemporary observers compared them to the Cuban camps, and criticized their deliberate cruelty. The Bishop of Hereford wrote to The Times of London in 1901, asking: “Are we reduced to such a depth of impotence that our Government can do nothing to stop such a holocaust of child-life?”

      Maggoty meat rations and polluted water supplies joined outbreaks of contagious diseases amid crowded and unhealthy conditions in the Boer camps. More than 27,000 detainees are thought to have died there, nearly 80 percent of them children. The British had opened camps for black Africans as well, in which at least 14,000 detainees died—the real number is probably much higher. Aside from protests made by some missionaries, the deaths of indigenous black Africans did not inspire much public outrage. Much of the history of the suffering in these camps has been lost.

      These early experiments with concentration camps took place on the periphery of imperial power, but accounts of them nevertheless made their way into newspapers and reports in many nations. As a result, the very idea of them came to be seen as barbaric. By the end of the first decade of the twentieth century, the first camp systems had all been closed, and concentration camps had nearly vanished as an institution. Within months of the outbreak of World War I, though, they would be resurrected—this time rising not at the margins but in the centers of power. Between 1914 and 1918, camps were constructed on an unprecedented scale across six continents. In their time, these camps were commonly called concentration camps, though today they are often referred to by the more anodyne term “internment.”

      Those World War I detainees were, for the most part, foreigners—or, in legalese, aliens—and recent anti-immigration legislation in several countries had deliberately limited their rights. The Daily Mail denounced aliens left at liberty once they had registered with their local police department, demanding, “Does signing his name take the malice out of a man?” The Scottish Field was more direct, asking, “Do Germans have souls?” That these civilian detainees were no threat to Britain did not keep them from being demonized, shouted at, and spat upon as they were paraded past hostile crowds in cities like London.

      Though a small number of people were shot in riots in these camps, and hunger became a serious issue as the conflict dragged on, World War I internment would present a new, non-lethal face for the camps, normalizing detention. Even after the war, new camps sprang up from Spain to Hungary and Cuba, providing an improvised “solution” for everything from vagrancy to anxieties over the presence of Jewish foreigners.

      Some of these camps were clearly not safe for those interned. Local camps appeared in Tulsa, Oklahoma, in 1921, after a white mob burned down a black neighborhood and detained African-American survivors. In Bolshevik Russia, the first concentration camps preceded the formation of the Soviet Union in 1922 and planted seeds for the brutal Gulag system that became official near the end of the USSR’s first decade. While some kinds of camps were understood to be harsher, after World War I their proliferation did not initially disturb public opinion. They had yet to take on their worst incarnations.

      In 1933, barely more than a month after Hitler was appointed chancellor, the Nazis’ first, impromptu camp opened in the town of Nohra in central Germany to hold political opponents. Detainees at Nohra were allowed to vote at a local precinct in the elections of March 5, 1933, resulting in a surge of Communist ballots in the tiny town. Locking up groups of civilians without trial had become accepted. Only the later realization of the horrors of the Nazi death camps would break the default assumption by governments and the public that concentration camps could and should be a simple way to manage populations seen as a threat.

      However, the staggering death toll of the Nazi extermination camp system—which was created mid-war and stood almost entirely separate from the concentration camps in existence since 1933—led to another result: a strange kind of erasure. In the decades that followed World War II, the term “concentration camp” came to stand only for Auschwitz and other extermination camps. It was no longer applied to the kind of extrajudicial detention it had denoted for generations. The many earlier camps that had made the rise of Auschwitz possible largely vanished from public memory.

      It is not necessary, however, to step back a full century in American history to find camps with links to what is happening on the US border today. Detention at Guantánamo began in the 1990s, when Haitian and Cuban immigrants whom the government wanted to keep out of the United States were housed there in waves over a four-year period—years before the “war on terror” and the US policy of rendition of suspected “enemy combatants” made Camps Delta, X-Ray, and Echo notorious. Tens of thousands of Haitians fleeing instability at home were picked up at sea and diverted to the Cuban base, to limit their legal right to apply for asylum. The court cases and battles over the suffering of those detainees ended up setting the stage for what Guantánamo would become after September 11, 2001.

      In one case, a federal court ruled that it did have jurisdiction over the base, but the government agreed to release the Haitians who were part of the lawsuit in exchange for keeping that ruling off the books. A ruling in a second case would assert that the courts did not have jurisdiction. Absent the prior case, the latter stood on its own as precedent. Leaving Guantánamo in this gray area made it an ideal site for extrajudicial detention and torture after the twin towers fell.

      This process of normalization, when a bad camp becomes much more dangerous, is not unusual. Today’s border camps are a crueler reflection of long-term policies—some challenged in court—that earlier presidents had enacted. Prior administrations own a share of the responsibility for today’s harsh practices, but the policies in place today are also accompanied by a shameless willingness to publicly target a vulnerable population in increasingly dangerous ways.

      I visited Guantánamo twice in 2015, sitting in the courtroom for pretrial hearings and touring the medical facility, the library, and all the old abandoned detention sites, as well as newly built ones, open to the media—from the kennel-style cages of Camp X-Ray rotting to ruin in the damp heat to the modern jailhouse facilities of Camp 6. Seeing all this in person made clear to me how vast the architecture of detention had become, how entrenched it was, and how hard it would be to close.

      Without a significant government effort to reverse direction, conditions in every camp system tend to deteriorate over time. Governments rarely make that kind of effort on behalf of people they are willing to lock up without trial in the first place. And history shows that legislatures do not close camps against the will of an executive.

      Just a few years ago there might have been more potential for change spurred by the judicial branch of our democracy, but this Supreme Court is inclined toward deference to executive power, even, it appears, if that power is abused. It seems unlikely this Court will intervene to end the new border camp system; indeed, the justices are far more likely to institutionalize it by half-measures, as happened with Guantánamo. The Korematsu case, in which the Supreme Court upheld Japanese-American internment (a ruling only rescinded last year), relied on the suppression of evidence by the solicitor general. Americans today can have little confidence that this administration would behave any more scrupulously when defending its detention policy.

      What kind of conditions can we expect to develop in these border camps? The longer a camp system stays open, the more likely it is that vital things will go wrong: detainees will contract contagious diseases and suffer from malnutrition and mental illness. We have already seen that current detention practices have resulted in children and adults succumbing to influenza, staph infections, and sepsis. The US is now poised to inflict harm on tens of thousands more, perhaps hundreds of thousands more.

      Along with such inevitable consequences, every significant camp system has introduced new horrors of its own, crises that were unforeseen when that system was opened. We have yet to discover what those will be for these American border camps. But they will happen. Every country thinks it can do detention better when it starts these projects. But no good way to conduct mass indefinite detention has yet been devised; the system always degrades.

      When, in 1940, Margarete Buber-Neumann was transferred from the Soviet Gulag at Karaganda to the camp for women at Ravensbrück (in an exchange enabled by the Nazi–Soviet Pact), she came from near-starvation conditions in the USSR and was amazed at the cleanliness and order of the Nazi camp. New arrivals were issued clothing, bedding, and silverware, and given fresh porridge, fruit, sausage, and jam to eat. Although the Nazi camps were already punitive, order-obsessed monstrosities, the wartime overcrowding that would soon overtake them had not yet made daily life a thing of constant suffering and squalor. The death camps were still two years away.

      The United States now has a vast and growing camp system. It is starting out with gruesome overcrowding and inadequate healthcare, and because of budget restrictions, has already taken steps to cut services to juvenile detainees. The US Office of Refugee Resettlement says that the mounting number of children arriving unaccompanied is forcing it to use military bases and other sites that it prefers to avoid, and that establishing these camps is a temporary measure. But without oversight from state child welfare inspectors, the possibilities for neglect and abuse are alarming. And without any knowledge of how many asylum-seekers are coming in the future, federal administrators are likely to find themselves boxed in to managing detention on military sites permanently.

      President Trump and senior White House adviser Stephen Miller appear to have purged the Department of Homeland Security of most internal opposition to their anti-immigrant policies. In doing so, that have removed even those sympathetic to the general approach taken by the White House, such as former Chief of Staff John Kelly and former Homeland Security Secretary Kirstjen Nielsen, in order to escalate the militarization of the border and expand irregular detention in more systematic and punitive ways. This kind of power struggle or purge in the early years of a camp system is typical.

      The disbanding of the Cheka, the Soviet secret police, in February 1922 and the transfer of its commander, Felix Dzerzhinsky, to head up an agency with control over only two prisons offered a hint of an alternate future in which extrajudicial detention would not play a central role in the fledgling Soviet republic. But Dzerzhinsky managed to keep control over the “special camps” in his new position, paving the way for the emergence of a camp-centered police state. In pre-war Germany in the mid-1930s, Himmler’s struggle to consolidate power from rivals eventually led him to make camps central to Nazi strategy. When the hardliners win, as they appear to have in the US, conditions tend to worsen significantly.

      Is it possible this growth in the camp system will be temporary and the improvised border camps will soon close? In theory, yes. But the longer they remain open, the less likely they are to vanish. When I visited the camps for Rohingya Muslims a year before the large-scale campaign of ethnic cleansing began, many observers appeared to be confusing the possible and the probable. It was possible that the party of Nobel Peace Prize winner Aung San Suu Kyi would sweep into office in free elections and begin making changes. It was possible that full democracy would come to all the residents of Myanmar, even though the government had stripped the Rohingya of the last vestiges of their citizenship. These hopes proved to be misplaced. Once there are concentration camps, it is always probable that things will get worse.

      The Philippines, Japanese-American internment, Guantánamo… we can consider the fine points of how the current border camps evoke past US systems, and we can see how the arc of camp history reveals the likelihood that the suffering we’re currently inflicting will be multiplied exponentially. But we can also simply look at what we’re doing right now, shoving bodies into “dog pound”-style detention pens, “iceboxes,” and standing room-only spaces. We can look at young children in custody who have become suicidal. How much more historical awareness do we really need?


    • #Alexandria_Ocasio-Cortez engage le bras de fer avec la politique migratoire de Donald Trump

      L’élue de New York a qualifié les camps de rétention pour migrants érigés à la frontière sud des Etats-Unis de « camps de concentration ».


    • sur le même sujet :

      Rivesaltes : les hoquets de l’Histoire

      En France, la permanence historique des logiques administratives et institutionnelles a quelque chose d’effrayant.

      Je suis tombé sur cette histoire à la lecture du rapport d’activité 2007 de la Cimade. On y trouve un descriptif des différents centres de rétention administrative et des données les concernants. Au chapitre concernant le CRA de Rivesaltes, on trouve cette remarque : “Sur ce terrain vague, on voit au loin les anciens baraquements où furent internés les “indésirables” des années 40, à savoir étrangers, juifs et Tsiganes”. Je me suis souvenu de l’histoire de ces camps de concentration du sud de la France destinés d’abord à l’internement des réfugiés espagnols, puis à tous les ennemis de Vichy : Argelès, Agde, Amélie les Bains…


  • hubertus strughold le « père de la médecine spatiale »

    wikipédia,  : physiologiste allemand naturalisé américain qui a joué un rôle pionnier durant les années 1950 et 1960 dans le domaine de la médecine spatiale. Durant la Seconde Guerre mondiale et dans le cadre de son travail de recherche sur le comportement du corps humain à haute altitude et soumis à de fortes accélérations, il est suspecté d’avoir été impliqué indirectement dans des expériences médicales nazies sur des déportés du camp de Dachau ayant entraîné leur mort.
    C’est du wikipédia, autrement dit, de l’édulcoré, rien sur les centaines de déportés morts lors des expériences d’hubertus strughold et d’autres savant allemands

    A regarder sur arte jusqu’au 7/04 : Destination Lune - Les anciens nazis de la Nasa


    #usa #allemagne #nazisme #nasa #histoire #génocide #guerre #extermination #camp_de_concentration #camps_de_concentration

  • La résistance des images

    En 1943, un photographe espagnol sauve de la destruction les photographies prises par les SS de Mauthausen. Au delà du quotidien du camp, l’exceptionnelle « collection Boix » documente la condition concentrationnaire. Elle éclaire l’importance de la #photographie pour l’histoire — et vice versa.


    / #mémoire, #guerre_mondiale, photographie, #camps_de_concentration

  • La résistance des images

    En 1943, un photographe espagnol sauve de la destruction les photographies prises par les SS de Mauthausen. Au delà du quotidien du camp, l’exceptionnelle « collection Boix » documente la condition concentrationnaire. Elle éclaire l’importance de la #photographie pour l’histoire — et vice versa.


    / #mémoire, #guerre_mondiale, photographie, #camps_de_concentration

  • I campi fascisti

    Lo stato fascista italiano si è avvalso di diversi strumenti e luoghi per imprigionare, segregare e deportare popolazioni straniere, oppositori politici, ebrei, omosessuali e rom. Dai campi di concentramento per i civili sloveni e croati, a quelli dove furono deportati migliaia di eritrei, etiopi e libici, dalle località di internamento per ebrei stranieri, fino ai luoghi di confino per oppositori politici.

    #histoire #fascisme #Italie #camps #camps_De_concentration #Slovénie #Croatie #Erythrée #Ethiopie #Libye #juifs #WWII #deuxième_guerre_mondiale #seconde_guerre_mondiale

    Une longue #liste avec les noms des personnes internées et les lieux :
    #datasource #banque_de_données #database

    Ici la liste des camps :
    et la #carte :

    #cartographie #visualisation

    Et puis, des #témoignages #audio (je ne sais pas si aussi #vidéo, j’ai pas contrôlé) de survivants :

    Et une très très longue bibliographie :


    cc @wizo @albertocampiphoto @isskein

  • Namibia, 1904. Quando i tedeschi fecero le prove della Shoah

    Stupri e campi di concentramento. Nella colonia africana la Germania organizzò il primo genocidio del XX secolo. Anticipando i metodi nazisti. Ma oggi a Berlino si fatica a parlarne


    #génocide #Namibie #histoire #camps_de_concentration #viols #Héréro
    cc @albertocampiphoto @wizo

  • Commémorer les victimes homosexuelles du nazisme.
    En France, les commémorations relatives aux victimes des deux guerres mondiales sont nombreuses : soldats tombés au front, résistants, déportés, Juifs… Mais celles consacrées aux victimes homosexuelles du #nazisme sont plus rares. Pourtant, en Allemagne ou aux Pays-Bas notamment, les militants des associations gays et lesbiennes ont fait du droit de commémorer et d’être reconnu comme martyr un combat structurant de leur mouvement et de leur communauté et ont peu à peu réussi à obtenir gain de cause.

    Régis Schlagdenhauffen, sociologue et Maître de conférences à l’Ecole des Hautes Etudes en Sciences Sociales (EHESS), a publié dans la revue Socio, un article retraçant l’histoire de cette revendication et visant à montrer comment la sphère privée interfère dans le politique jusqu’à être progressivement reconnue par lui.

    Des premiers articles publiés dans les revues militantes au lendemain de la guerre, jusqu’à la construction, planifiée par l’Etat fédéral, du mémorial des #victimes_homosexuelles à Berlin situé en face du mémorial de l’Holocauste, en passant par la réappropriation du #triangle_rose que les nazis faisaient porter aux homosexuels dans les #camps_de_concentration, la route a été longue. Aujourd’hui, il reste encore du chemin à parcourir, mais la tendance est à l’action pédagogique et éducative visant la progressive « normalisation » des vies homosexuelles, auprès d’une majorité de la population encore trop peu ouverte.


    source : http://buchenwald-dora.fr/?m=201702

  • DVD « La dernière femme du premier train » de Daniel Friedmann - Communiqué de presse - Editions Montparnasse - La Culture en DVD, Blu-ray et VOD


    Le portrait bouleversant, réalisé sur une quinzaine d’années, d’Hilda Hrabovecka, dernière survivante du premier train arrivé à Auschwitz le 26 mars 1942. Un film essentiel, digne et touchant pour comprendre la vie à l’intérieur des camps de concentration, mais aussi mettre en avant les rapports troubles entre le régime nazi et la Slovaquie (seul pays à avoir payé le Troisième Reich afin de déporter sa population juive).
    Un documentaire à découvrir à l’occasion du 70e anniversaire de la libération des camps et de la fin de la Seconde Guerre mondiale.

    #documentaire #shoah

  • Retour au #Goulag avec #Tomasz_Kizny

    Saluons l’initiative de Fundacja Picture et de l’Institut de la #mémoire nationale (IPN) de publier enfin en polonais l’ouvrage magistral de Tomasz Kizny, Goulag, paru pour la première fois — en anglais — il y a plus de 15 ans. C’est en effet un livre unique en son genre, qui donne à voir ce que le régime soviétique a toujours essayé de cacher au monde — le plus grand et le plus durable système concentrationnaire du vingtième siècle (avec le Laogaï chinois), ce siècle justement qualifié de « siècle des camps ».

    #camps_de_concentration #URSS

  • #Eric_Schwab, des #photographies de l’#inhumain

    PARIS, 12 février 2014 - Ce sont quelques dizaines de photos d’Eric Schwab dans les archives de l’Agence France-Presse. Un nombre insignifiant dans un #fonds_photographique de plus de trente millions de documents numériques et de sept millions d’#archives argentiques. Mais une valeur inestimable pour la mémoire et au regard de l’#Histoire.

    #camps_de_concentration #WWII #deuxième_guerre_mondiale #shoah #photographie
    cc @albertocampiphoto

  • La mémoire filmée de la Shoah

    L’exposition « Filmer la guerre : les Soviétiques face à la Shoah » qui se déroule en ce moment à Paris présente un point de vue poignant mais parfois insoutenable sur ce que l’on a appelé « la Shoah par balles ». Valérie Pozner, spécialiste de l’histoire du cinéma russe et soviétique, nous en explique le caractère inédit.

  • Dans les Nouvelles vagues cette semaine (#France_Culture), que je te signalais ici à propos du festival Longueur d’ondes de cette année

    quatre autres émissions sur la thématique de l’#expérience, que je recense à part : « Faire l’expérience sensible de la ville (presque sans les yeux) »

    Aujourd’hui, l’expérience est urbaine et déambulatoire. Nous sommes avec Myriam Lefkowitz, artiste chorégraphique. Elle propose des promenades expérimentales dans plusieurs villes du monde. Les participants y sont guidés les yeux fermés, au milieu de l’espace urbain qui fourmille de stimuli sensoriels.


    #ville #urbanisme_sonore

    Et « Quand #biologistes et #hackers mêlent leurs expériences »

    Aujourd’hui, nous évoquons les pratiques de #biohacking, une application des principes et valeurs des hackerspaces aux biotechnologies. Nous recevons Morgan Meyer, maître de conférences à Agro Paristech et Thomas Landrain , Président de la Paillasse, premier laboratoire communautaire et citoyen de France.


    Ecrire l’expérience concentrationnaire

    Aujourd’hui, nous sommes avec Luba Jurgenson, maître de conférences à Paris 1, auteur de L’expérience concentrationnaire est-elle indicible ? (éditions du Rocher, 2003). Elle anime le séminaire « Récit, fiction, histoire ». Nous évoquons avec elle les récits et les fictions qui rendent compte de l’expérience des #camps_de_concentration et des #goulags.


    « Cobayes »

    Aujourd’hui, nous recevons l’auteur Chistophe Bataille pour son roman L’expérience. Par la voix d’un jeune soldat, il relate l’expérience vécue par ces hommes cobayes victimes des #essais_nucléaires menés par la France dans le désert algérien en 1961.


    #audio #radio


    Un lavoro di raccolta e ricerca durato 40 anni. Nel settembre 1979, a cinquantasei anni, Arturo Benvenuti si è messo alla guida del suo camper per ripercorrere le Viae Crucis del Novecento: un pellegrinaggio laico e riparatore lungo le stazioni di #Auschwitz, #Terezín, #Mauthausen-Gusen, #Buchenwald, #Dachau, #Gonars, #Monigo, #Renicci, #Banjica, #Ravensbrück, #Jasenovac, #Belsen, #Gürs, per incontrare decine di sopravvissuti, recuperare testimonianze perdute e restituire alla memoria del mondo questi disegni autografi, realizzati dagli internati nei lager nazifascisti durante la loro prigionia.

    #camps_nazis #dessins #camps_de_concentration #mémoire
    cc @reka

  • USA, Caroline du Nord : Les #camps_de_concentration Fema pour les sans domicile fixe

    par Massimo Bonato

    Nous disons souvent que, à la huitième année de crise économique, et face à d’inutiles tentatives globales de faire repartir « la croissance », il semble amplement démontré que nous naviguons dans une crise de surproduction. Nous rappelons aussi, avec la même fréquence, que cette expression classique doit être entendue exactement comme elle a été pensée par son inventeur : surproduction de capital. Soit non seulement de marchandises, mais surtout d’usines-ordinateurs-bureaux (capital fixe) et force de travail humaine (capital variable).

    Il nous arrive aussi d’écrire que le programme capitaliste pour gérer cette « surabondance » d’êtres humains est définissable comme un vous devez mourir. Il apparaît en effet évident que lorsque depuis le sommet du gouvernement ou de l’Union Européenne ou (...)

    #paradis #chômeurs #nazis

    • https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xI_6oLPC-S0

      [L]’auteur de La Main au collet et de La Mort aux trousses, bouleversé par les événements qu’il découvre en même temps que le monde entier, a réalisé un documentaire sur les camps, intitulé Memory of the camps. Jamais diffusées publiquement, les bobines, qui ont été exhumées des archives puis restaurées numériquement, montrent sans aucun artifice la cruauté du système concentrationnaire nazi.

      (...) Sur le Front ouest, les Américains et les Anglais piétinent un peu. Ils ouvrent les portes de Buchenwald, le 11 avril. Le 15 avril, ils pénètrent dans Bergen-Belsen. Quelque 60.000 personnes peuplent encore le camp. La plupart sont atteintes du typhus. Faute de moyens sanitaires suffisants, dépassées par l’horreur, les troupes britanniques ne pourront sauver tous les survivants. Le service cinéma de l’armée anglaise filment l’insoutenable pour témoigner de la folie génocidaire nazi. Anne Frank y passera ses derniers jours.

      Quelques mois plus tard, encouragé par son ami producteur Sydney Bernstein, Alfred Hitchcock décide de réaliser un documentaire sur la libération des camps. Il décide d’utiliser les rushes de l’armée britannique et, plus particulièrement, les images tournées à #Bergen-Belsen.

      (...) Malgré son écœurement, avec tout ce matériel brut, Hitchcock monte son documentaire. Il a, dans un premier temps, pour objectif de servir de témoignage à charge contre les Allemands pro-nazis qui ont laissé faire cela. Fin 1945, les autorités alliés se ravisent. Pour accéler la reconciliation européenne, il n’est plus opportun de diviser en publiant ce documentaire dénonciateur. Le film d’Hitchcock finit bientôt dans les oubliettes du Musée impérial de la guerre. Archivé, il est presque bientôt complètement oublié. En 2015, sera commémoré le 70e anniversaire de la libération des camps. Le musée anglais, dédié aux conflits du XXe siècle, a décidé de projeter, Memory of the camps, la version intégrale et restaurée du film d’Alfred Hitchcock.

      #vidéo #documentaire #camps_de_concentration #nazisme #Alfred_Hitchcock #histoire

  • Philosophie du fil de fer #barbelé

    A l’ère des caméras de #vidéosurveillance, de l’#identification_biométrique ou encore du mobilier urbain dissuasif, on aurait pu croire le barbelé obsolète. Il reste pourtant largement utilisé dans le monde entier, même si, en Occident, où il demeure associé aux #camps_de_concentration, on le réserve à des usages bien circonscrits. Inventorier ses multiples emplois ou ses substituts s’avère riche d’enseignements.