city:new york

  • View from Nowhere. Is it the press’s job to create a community that transcends borders?

    A few years ago, on a plane somewhere between Singapore and Dubai, I read Benedict Anderson’s Imagined Communities (1983). I was traveling to report on the global market for passports—how the ultrawealthy can legally buy citizenship or residence virtually anywhere they like, even as 10 million stateless people languish, unrecognized by any country. In the process, I was trying to wrap my head around why national identity meant so much to so many, yet so little to my passport-peddling sources. Their world was the very image of Steve Bannon’s globalist nightmare: where you can never be too rich, too thin, or have too many passports.

    Anderson didn’t address the sale of citizenship, which only took off in earnest in the past decade; he did argue that nations, nationalism, and nationality are about as organic as Cheez Whiz. The idea of a nation, he writes, is a capitalist chimera. It is a collective sense of identity processed, shelf-stabilized, and packaged before being disseminated, for a considerable profit, to a mass audience in the form of printed books, news, and stories. He calls this “print-capitalism.”

    Per Anderson, after the printing press was invented, nearly 600 years ago, enterprising booksellers began publishing the Bible in local vernacular languages (as opposed to the elitist Latin), “set[ting] the stage for the modern nation” by allowing ordinary citizens to participate in the same conversations as the upper classes. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the proliferation (and popularity) of daily newspapers further collapsed time and space, creating an “extraordinary mass ceremony” of reading the same things at the same moment.

    “An American will never meet, or even know the names of more than a handful of his 240,000,000–odd fellow Americans,” Anderson wrote. “He has no idea of what they are up to at any one time.” But with the knowledge that others are reading the same news, “he has complete confidence in their steady, anonymous, simultaneous activity.”

    Should the press be playing a role in shaping not national identities, but transnational ones—a sense that we’re all in it together?

    Of course, national presses enabled more explicit efforts by the state itself to shape identity. After the US entered World War I, for instance, President Woodrow Wilson set out to make Americans more patriotic through his US Committee on Public Information. Its efforts included roping influential mainstream journalists into advocating American-style democracy by presenting US involvement in the war in a positive light, or simply by referring to Germans as “Huns.” The committee also monitored papers produced by minorities to make sure they supported the war effort not as Indians, Italians, or Greeks, but as Americans. Five Irish-American papers were banned, and the German-American press, reacting to negative stereotypes, encouraged readers to buy US bonds to support the war effort.

    The US media played an analogous role in selling the public on the 2003 invasion of Iraq. But ever since then, in the digital economy, its influence on the national consciousness has waned. Imagined Communities was published seven years before the fall of the Berlin Wall, twenty-two years before Thomas Friedman’s The World Is Flat, and a couple of decades before the internet upended print-capitalism as the world knew it (one of Anderson’s footnotes is telling, if quaint: “We still have no giant multinationals in the world of publishing”).

    Since Trump—a self-described nationalist—became a real contender for the US presidency, many news organizations have taken to looking inward: consider the running obsession with the president’s tweets, for instance, or the nonstop White House palace intrigue (which the president invites readily).

    Meanwhile, the unprofitability of local and regional papers has contributed to the erosion of civics, which, down the line, makes it easier for billionaires to opt out of old “imagined communities” and join new ones based on class and wealth, not citizenship. And given the challenges humanity faces—climate change, mass migration, corporate hegemony, and our relationships to new technologies—even if national papers did make everyone feel like they shared the same narrative, a renewed sense of national pride would prove impotent in fighting world-historic threats that know no borders.

    Should the press, then, be playing an analogous role in shaping not national identities, but transnational ones—a sense that we’re all in it together? If it was so important in shaping national identity, can it do so on a global scale?

    Like my passport-buying subjects, I am what Theresa May, the former British prime minister, might call a “citizen of nowhere.” I was born in one place to parents from another, grew up in a third, and have lived and traveled all over. That informs my perspective: I want deeply for there to be a truly cosmopolitan press corps, untethered from national allegiances, regional biases, class divisions, and the remnants of colonial exploitation. I know that’s utopian; the international working class is hardly a lucrative demographic against which publishers can sell ads. But we seem to be living in a time of considerable upheaval and opportunity. Just as the decline of religiously and imperially organized societies paved the way for national alternatives, then perhaps today there is a chance to transcend countries’ boundaries, too.

    Does the US media help create a sense of national identity? If nationalism means putting the interests of one nation—and what its citizens are interested in—before more universal concerns, then yes. Most journalists working for American papers, websites, and TV write in English with a national audience (or regional time zone) in mind, which affects how we pitch, source, frame, and illustrate a story—which, in turn, influences our readers, their country’s politics, and, down the line, the world. But a news peg isn’t an ideological form of nationalism so much as a practical or methodological one. The US press feeds off of more pernicious nationalisms, too: Donald Trump’s false theory about Barack Obama being “secretly” Kenyan, disseminated by the likes of Fox and The Daily Caller, comes to mind.

    That isn’t to say that global news outlets don’t exist in the US. When coaxing subscribers, the Financial Times, whose front page often includes references to a dozen different countries, openly appeals to their cosmopolitanism. “Be a global citizen. Become an FT Subscriber,” read a recent banner ad, alongside a collage featuring the American, Chinese, Japanese, Australian, and European Union flags (though stories like the recent “beginner’s guide to buying a private island” might tell us something about what kind of global citizen they’re appealing to).

    “I don’t think we try to shape anyone’s identity at all,” Gillian Tett, the paper’s managing editor for the US, says. “We recognize two things: that the world is more interconnected today than it’s ever been, and that these connections are complex and quite opaque. We think it’s critical to try to illuminate them.”

    For Tett, who has a PhD in social anthropology, money serves as a “neutral, technocratic” starting point through which to understand—and tie together—the world. “Most newspapers today tend to start with an interest in politics or events, and that inevitably leads you to succumb to tribalism, however hard you try [not to],” Tett explains. “If you look at the world through money—how is money going around the world, who’s making and losing it and why?—out of that you lead to political, cultural, foreign-policy stories.”

    Tett’s comments again brought to mind Imagined Communities: Anderson notes that, in 18th-century Caracas, newspapers “began essentially as appendages of the market,” providing commercial news about ships coming in, commodity prices, and colonial appointments, as well as a proto–Vows section for the upper crust to hate-read in their carriages. “The newspaper of Caracas quite naturally, and even apolitically, created an imagined community among a specific assemblage of fellow-readers, to whom these ships, brides, bishops, and prices belonged,” he wrote. “In time, of course, it was only to be expected that political elements would enter in.”

    Yesterday’s aristocracy is today’s passport-buying, globe-trotting one percent. The passport brokers I got to know also pitched clients with the very same promise of “global citizenship” (it sounds less louche than “buy a new passport”)—by taking out ads in the Financial Times. Theirs is exactly the kind of neoliberal “globalism” that nationalist politicians like Trump have won elections denouncing (often hypocritically) as wanting “the globe to do well, frankly, not caring about our country so much.” Isn’t upper-crust glibness about borders, boundaries, and the value of national citizenship part of what helped give us this reactionary nativism in the first place?

    “I suspect what’s been going on with Brexit and maybe Trump and other populist movements [is that] people. . . see ‘global’ as a threat to local communities and businesses rather than something to be welcomed,” Tett says. “But if you’re an FT reader, you see it as benign or descriptive.”

    Among the largest news organizations in the world is Reuters, with more than 3,000 journalists and photographers in 120 countries. It is part of Thomson Reuters, a truly global firm. Reuters does not take its mandate lightly: a friend who works there recently sent me a job posting for an editor in Gdynia, which, Google clarified for me, is a city in the Pomeranian Voivodeship of Poland.

    Reuters journalists cover everything from club sports to international tax evasion. They’re outsourcing quick hits about corporate earnings to Bangalore, assembling teams on multiple continents to tackle a big investigation, shedding or shuffling staff under corporate reorganizations. Perhaps unsurprisingly, “more than half our business is serving financial customers,” Stephen Adler, the editor in chief, tells me. “That has little to do with what country you’re from. It’s about information: a central-bank action in Europe or Japan may be just as important as everything else.”

    Institutionally, “it’s really important and useful that we don’t have one national HQ,” Adler adds. “That’s the difference between a global news organization and one with a foreign desk. For us, nothing is foreign.” That approach won Reuters this year’s international Pulitzer Prize for uncovering the mass murder of the Rohingya in Myanmar (two of the reporters were imprisoned as a result, and since freed); it also comes through especially sharply in daily financial stories: comprehensive, if dry, compendiums of who-what-where-when-why that recognize the global impact of national stories, and vice versa. A recent roundup of stock movements included references to the US Fed, China trade talks, Brexit, monetary policy around the world, and the price of gold.

    Adler has led the newsroom since 2011, and a lot has changed in the world. (I worked at Reuters between 2011 and 2013, first as Adler’s researcher and later as a reporter; Adler is the chair of CJR’s board.) Shortly after Trump’s election, Adler wrote a memo affirming the organization’s commitment to being fair, honest, and resourceful. He now feels more strongly than ever about judiciously avoiding biases—including national ones. “Our ideology and discipline around putting personal feelings and nationality aside has been really helpful, because when you think about how powerful local feelings are—revolutions, the Arab Spring—we want you writing objectively and dispassionately.”

    The delivery of stories in a casual, illustrated, highly readable form is in some ways more crucial to developing an audience than subject matter.

    Whether global stories can push communities to develop transnationally in a meaningful way is a harder question to answer; it seems to impugn our collective aptitude for reacting to problems of a global nature in a rational way. Reuters’s decision not to fetishize Trump hasn’t led to a drop-off in US coverage—its reporters have been especially strong on immigration and trade policy, not to mention the effects of the new administration on the global economy—but its stories aren’t exactly clickbait, which means ordinary Americans might not encounter them at the top of their feed. In other words, having a global perspective doesn’t necessarily translate to more eyeballs.

    What’s more, Reuters doesn’t solve the audience-class problem: whether readers are getting dispatches in partner newspapers like The New York Times or through the organization’s Eikon terminal, they tend to be the sort of person “who does transnational business, travels a good deal, is connected through work and media, has friends in different places, cares about what’s going on in different places,” Adler says. “That’s a pretty large cohort of people who have reason to care what’s going on in other places.”

    There are ways to unite readers without centering coverage on money or the markets. For a generation of readers around the world, the common ground is technology: the internet. “We didn’t pick our audience,” Ben Smith, the editor in chief of BuzzFeed, tells me over the phone. “Our audience picked us.” He defines his readers as a cohort aged 18–35 “who are on the internet and who broadly care about human rights, global politics, and feminism and gay rights in particular.”

    To serve them, BuzzFeed recently published a damning investigative report into the World Wildlife Fund’s arming of militias in natural reserves; a (not uncontroversial) series on Trump’s business dealings abroad; early exposés of China’s detention of Uighur citizens; and reports on child abuse in Australia. Climate—“the central challenge for every newsroom in the world”—has been harder to pin down. “We don’t feel anyone has cracked it. But the shift from abstract scientific [stories] to coverage of fires in California, it’s a huge change—it makes it more concrete,” Smith says. (My husband is a reporter for BuzzFeed.)

    The delivery of these stories in a casual, illustrated, highly readable form is in some ways more crucial to developing an audience than subject matter. “The global political financial elites have had a common language ever since it was French,” Smith says. “There is now a universal language of internet culture, [and] that. . . is how our stuff translates so well between cultures and audiences.” This isn’t a form of digital Esperanto, Smith insists; the point isn’t to flatten the differences between countries or regions so much as to serve as a “container” in which people from different regions, interest groups, and cultures can consume media through references they all understand.

    BuzzFeed might not be setting out to shape its readers’ identities (I certainly can’t claim to feel a special bond with other people who found out they were Phoebes from the quiz “Your Sushi Order Will Reveal Which ‘Friends’ Character You’re Most Like”). An audience defined by its youth and its media consumption habits can be difficult to keep up with: platforms come and go, and young people don’t stay young forever. But if Anderson’s thesis still carries water, there must be something to speaking this language across cultures, space, and time. Call it “Web vernacular.”

    In 2013, during one of the many recent and lengthy US government shutdowns, Joshua Keating, a journalist at Slate, began a series, “If It Happened There,” that imagined how the American media would view the shutdown if it were occurring in another country. “The typical signs of state failure aren’t evident on the streets of this sleepy capital city,” Keating opens. “Beret-wearing colonels have not yet taken to the airwaves to declare martial law. . . .But the pleasant autumn weather disguises a government teetering on the brink.”

    It goes on; you get the idea. Keating’s series, which was inspired by his having to read “many, many headlines from around the world” while working at Foreign Policy, is a clever journalistic illustration of what sociologists call “methodological nationalism”: the bias that gets inadvertently baked into work and words. In the Middle East, it’s sectarian or ethnic strife; in the Midwest, it’s a trigger-happy cop and a kid in a hoodie.

    His send-ups hit a nerve. “It was huge—it was by far the most popular thing I’ve done at Slate,” Keating says. “I don’t think that it was a shocking realization to anyone that this kind of language can be a problem, but sometimes pointing it out can be helpful. If the series did anything, it made people stop and be conscious of how. . . our inherent biases and perspectives will inform how we cover the world.”

    Curiously, living under an openly nationalist administration has changed the way America—or at the very least, a significant part of the American press corps—sees itself. The press is a de facto opposition party, not because it tries to be, but because the administration paints it that way. And that gives reporters the experience of working in a place much more hostile than the US without setting foot outside the country.

    Keating has “semi-retired” the series as a result of the broad awareness among American reporters that it is, in fact, happening here. “It didn’t feel too novel to say [Trump was] acting like a foreign dictator,” he says. “That was what the real news coverage was doing.”

    Keating, who traveled to Somaliland, Kurdistan, and Abkhazia to report his book Invisible Countries (2018), still thinks the fastest and most effective way to form an international perspective is to live abroad. At the same time, not being bound to a strong national identity “can make it hard to understand particular concerns of the people you’re writing about,” he says. It might be obvious, but there is no one perfect way to be internationally minded.

    Alan Rusbridger—the former editor of The Guardian who oversaw the paper’s Edward Snowden coverage and is now the principal at Lady Margaret Hall, a college at Oxford University—recognizes the journalistic and even moral merits of approaching news in a non-national way: “I think of journalism as a public service, and I do think there’s a link between journalism at its best and the betterment of individual lives and societies,” he says. But he doesn’t have an easy formula for how to do that, because truly cosmopolitan journalism requires both top-down editorial philosophies—not using certain phrasings or framings that position foreigners as “others”—and bottom-up efforts by individual writers to read widely and be continuously aware of how their work might be read by people thousands of miles away.

    Yes, the starting point is a nationally defined press, not a decentralized network, but working jointly helps pool scarce resources and challenge national or local biases.

    Rusbridger sees potential in collaborations across newsrooms, countries, and continents. Yes, the starting point is a nationally defined press, not a decentralized network; but working jointly helps pool scarce resources and challenge national or local biases. It also wields power. “One of the reasons we reported Snowden with the Times in New York was to use global protections of human rights and free speech and be able to appeal to a global audience of readers and lawyers,” Rusbridger recalls. “We thought, ‘We’re pretty sure nation-states will come at us over this, and the only way to do it is harness ourselves to the US First Amendment not available to us anywhere else.’”

    In employing these tactics, the press positions itself in opposition to the nation-state. The same strategy could be seen behind the rollout of the Panama and Paradise Papers (not to mention the aggressive tax dodging detailed therein). “I think journalists and activists and citizens on the progressive wing of politics are thinking creatively about how global forces can work to their advantage,” Rusbridger says.

    But he thinks it all starts locally, with correspondents who have fluency in the language, culture, and politics of the places they cover, people who are members of the communities they write about. That isn’t a traditional foreign-correspondent experience (nor indeed that of UN employees, NGO workers, or other expats). The silver lining of publishing companies’ shrinking budgets might be that cost cutting pushes newsrooms to draw from local talent, rather than send established writers around. What you gain—a cosmopolitanism that works from the bottom up—can help dispel accusations of media elitism. That’s the first step to creating new imagined communities.

    Anderson’s work has inspired many an academic, but media executives? Not so much. Rob Wijnberg is an exception: he founded the (now beleaguered) Correspondent in the Netherlands in 2013 with Anderson’s ideas in mind. In fact, when we speak, he brings the name up unprompted.

    “You have to transcend this notion that you can understand the world through the national point of view,” he says. “The question is, What replacement do we have for it? Simply saying we have to transcend borders or have an international view isn’t enough, because you have to replace the imagined community you’re leaving behind with another one.”

    For Wijnberg, who was a philosophy student before he became a journalist, this meant radically reinventing the very structures of the news business: avoiding covering “current events” just because they happened, and thinking instead of what we might call eventful currents—the political, social, and economic developments that affect us all. It meant decoupling reporting from national news cycles, and getting readers to become paying “members” instead of relying on advertisements.

    This, he hoped, would help create a readership not based on wealth, class, nationality, or location, but on borderless, universal concerns. “We try to see our members. . . as part of a group or knowledge community, where the thing they share is the knowledge they have about a specific structural subject matter,” be it climate, inequality, or migration, Wijnberg says. “I think democracy and politics answers more to media than the other way around, so if you change the way media covers the world you change a lot.”

    That approach worked well in the Netherlands: his team raised 1.7 million euros in 2013, and grew to include 60,000 members. A few years later, Wijnberg and his colleagues decided to expand into the US, and with the help of NYU’s Jay Rosen, an early supporter, they made it onto Trevor Noah’s Daily Show to pitch their idea.

    The Correspondent raised more than $2.5 million from nearly 50,000 members—a great success, by any measure. But in March, things started to get hairy, with the publication abruptly pulling the plug on opening a US newsroom and announcing that staff would edit stories reported from the US from the original Amsterdam office instead. Many of the reasons behind this are mundane: visas, high rent, relocation costs. And reporters would still be reporting from, and on, the States. But supporters felt blindsided, calling the operation a scam.

    Today, Wijnberg reflects that he should have controlled the messaging better, and not promised to hire and operate from New York until he was certain that he could. He also wonders why it matters.

    “It’s not saying people who think it matters are wrong,” he explains. “But if the whole idea of this kind of geography and why it’s there is a construct, and you’re trying to think about transcending it, the very notion of Where are you based? is secondary. The whole point is not to be based anywhere.”

    Still: “The view from everywhere—the natural opposite—is just as real,” Wijnberg concedes. “You can’t be everywhere. You have to be somewhere.”

    And that’s the rub: for all of nationalism’s ills, it does instill in its subjects what Anderson calls a “deep, horizontal comradeship” that, while imagined, blossoms thanks to a confluence of forces. It can’t be replicated supranationally overnight. The challenge for a cosmopolitan journalism, then, is to dream up new forms of belonging that look forward, not backward—without discarding the imagined communities we have.

    That’s hard; so hard that it more frequently provokes a retrenchment, not an expansion, of solidarity. But it’s not impossible. And our collective futures almost certainly depend on it.
    #journalisme #nationalisme #Etat-nation #communauté_nationale #communauté_internationale #frontières #presse #médias

  • Paola Antonelli : « Les designers peuvent faire en sorte que la fin de l’humanité soit élégante »

    Paola Antonelli, conservatrice du département d’architecture et de design et directrice de la R&D du Museum of Modern Art, à New York, membre du jury de la design parade à Hyères 2019.

    Figure du Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), à New York, où elle est conservatrice du département d’architecture et de design et directrice de la R&D, Paola Antonelli était cette année membre du jury de la Design Parade Hyères.

    Dans « Broken Nature : Design takes on Human Survival », l’exposition dont vous êtes la commissaire à la Triennale de Milan, à voir jusqu’au 1er septembre, vous prônez surtout un design réparateur…
    Oui, je pense que l’humanité est vouée à s’éteindre comme d’autres espèces avant elle. Les designers ne pourront pas empêcher cela mais ils peuvent faire en sorte que cette fin soit encore lointaine et élégante. Que nous laissions une trace sur la Terre, pour la prochaine espèce dominante, qui soit un exemple d’une relation apaisée et intelligente avec notre milieu naturel. Le concept d’un design réparateur (restorative design), visant à corriger la course de l’humanité vers l’autodestruction, embrasse un vaste champ de solutions. Il explore tantôt la technologie, tantôt l’artisanat ou une combinaison des deux. Il ne s’agit pas seulement de recyclage mais aussi d’acheter moins et de se transmettre, comme le faisaient nos grands-mères, le lit ou le canapé d’une génération à l’autre.

  • Opioïdes : Nan Goldin vise le mécénat du Louvre - Libération

    La photographe a organisé lundi une action dans la cour du grand musée parisien, appelant sa direction à débaptiser une aile nommée en l’honneur d’une famille de mécènes détenant le laboratoire produisant l’Oxycontin, un puissant analgésique.

    Opioïdes : Nan Goldin vise le mécénat du Louvre

    Le Louvre n’imaginait sans doute pas voir un jour sa réputation ternie par la crise des opioïdes, ce scandale sanitaire majeur qui a déjà fait au moins 100 000 morts par overdose aux Etats-Unis. Le célèbre musée parisien doit pourtant faire face à une fronde inédite orchestrée par la photographe new-yorkaise Nan Goldin et le collectif PAIN (Pain Addiction Intervention Now), qui militent depuis deux ans pour alerter sur les dangers de l’Oxycontin. Ce puissant antidouleur, dérivé de l’opium, est commercialisé depuis 1996 par la société Purdue Pharma, elle-même détenue par la famille Sackler. Comme de nombreuses entreprises, le laboratoire américain est aussi un généreux mécène du monde de l’art, prêt à débourser de très grosses sommes pour voir son nom associé à des institutions culturelles de renom. Grâce à un don de 10 millions de francs au Louvre en 1996, la famille a ainsi obtenu que l’aile des antiquités orientales du Louvre soit nommée « aile Sackler », nom qu’elle porte toujours aujourd’hui. Douze salles consacrées à l’Iran ancien, au Levant et à l’Arabie ancienne, où trônent d’inestimables joyaux.

    Une association insupportable pour Nan Goldin, devenue la figure de proue de la lutte contre Sackler. Ancienne accro à l’Oxycontin dont elle est désormais sevrée, la photographe multiplie depuis 2017 les actions choc dans les musées financés par la famille américaine. Mais c’est la première fois qu’une action a lieu en France, face au musée le plus visité du monde.
    inRead invented by Teads
    « Sackler on meurt, le Louvre couvre »

    Les touristes présents lundi devant la pyramide du Louvre ont d’abord cru à une performance artistique. Entièrement vêtue de noir, sa médaille de l’ordre des arts et des lettres attachée à la ceinture, Nan Goldin s’est avancée dans l’eau au milieu du bassin, face au bâtiment de verre. Puis des militants ont déployé derrière elle une large banderole orange avec ces mots en lettres noires : « Louvre, take down their name » (« Louvre, retirez leur nom »). Une trentaine d’activistes se sont ensuite massés autour de la photographe aux cris de « Shame on Sackler » et « Sackler on meurt, le Louvre couvre ». « Sackler est responsable de la mort de 200 personnes par jour aux Etats-Unis, lance Nan Goldin aux quelques journalistes présents. Le Louvre ne peut pas être complice de ce scandale. »

    Préparée en trois semaines dans le plus grand secret, l’action a été menée en collaboration avec l’association Aides. « On ne parle que des Etats-Unis mais d’autres pays commencent à être touchés par la crise des opioïdes, explique Fred Bladou, chargé de mission au sein de l’asso. Ce désastre sanitaire doit aussi nous interpeller sur la politique préventive que nous menons. Il démontre l’absurdité qu’il y a à criminaliser les usagers de drogue illicite alors qu’une des plus grosses crises sanitaires de l’histoire concerne une drogue licite. » En France, une centaine de médecins ont alerté fin juin dans les colonnes du JDD sur « le risque d’une crise sanitaire » alors que « 12 millions de Français utilisent des médicaments opiacés, sans être alertés sur leur potentiel addictif et sur les risques d’overdose ».
    Guggenheim et Tate Modern

    Accusés de commercialiser son produit phare en toute connaissance de cause, les Sackler sont aujourd’hui visés par plus de 1 600 actions en justice dans 35 Etats américains. En mars, ils ont dû verser 270 millions de dollars dans le cadre d’un accord à l’amiable passé avec l’Etat de l’Oklahoma. Sous la pression de PAIN, la polémique s’est étendue au mécénat culturel international. Ces derniers mois, plusieurs grands musées comme le Guggenheim et le Metropolitan Museum of Art à New York, ou la Tate Modern à Londres, ont annoncé publiquement qu’ils refuseraient à l’avenir toute donation de la famille Sackler. Un autre musée londonien, la National Portrait Gallery, a décliné en mars un don d’un million de livres (1,15 million d’euros). « Nous n’avons plus reçu aucune donation ni aucune demande de Sackler depuis 1996 », se défend-on au Louvre. Mais ce refus des dons ne suffit plus, pour Nan Goldin et les militants de PAIN. « Il faut que le Louvre soit le premier à débaptiser une aile, exigent-ils dans leur communiqué. Nous n’acceptons plus qu’une institution culturelle publique financée par l’Etat et les contribuables porte au pinacle une entreprise meurtrière. »

    Techniquement, rien n’empêche le musée parisien de retirer le nom des Sackler, le choix de baptiser certaines salles n’étant pas irrévocable, selon la charte interne. Mais la problématique du mécénat et des donateurs embarrassants va bien au-delà de ce cas. Elle est d’autant plus sensible qu’en vingt ans, le budget du Louvre a plus que doublé, alors même que la subvention de l’Etat est restée stable (environ 100 millions d’euros par an). Pour financer la différence et satisfaire les dix millions de visiteurs annuels, le musée n’a d’autre choix que de se tourner vers les acteurs privés, qui représentent entre 20 et 25 millions d’euros par an. Pour vérifier l’origine de ces fonds, le Louvre s’appuie aussi bien sur son réseau diplomatique dans les ambassades étrangères que sur Tracfin, le service antiblanchiment de Bercy. A l’époque, la donation des Sackler n’avait soulevé aucun problème. Vingt-trois ans et plusieurs dizaines de milliers de morts plus tard, c’est une tout autre affaire.
    Emmanuel Fansten

    #Opioides #Sackler #Louvre

  • #Global_media_Monitoring_Project (#GMMP)

    Who makes the news? is a knowledge, information and resource portal on applied media research. Our work focuses on gender and other axes of discrimination in and through media and communication.

    In 1987 a series of regional consultations on ‘women and media’ convened by the communication rights’ organisation WACC-UK culminated in the first-ever global conference on ‘Women Empowering Communication’ held in Bangkok in February 1994. Convened in co-operation with Isis International - Philippines and the International Women’s Tribune Centre-New York, the conference brought together over 430 people from 80 countries. At the conference, women from all over the world developed a series of strategies and resolutions for empowering women in and through the media in the ‘Bangkok Declaration’.

    The Bangkok Declaration and the recommendations contained in Section J on “Women and the media” of the Beijing Platform for Action of the 1995 UN Fourth World Conference on Women have provided a blueprint for our interventions. In March 2017 the Bangkok Declaration was revised with input from participants at a WACC pre-Commission on the Status of Women (CSW) symposium in New York. Dubbed The New York Declaration, the new text reflects pertinent gender issues in the current media landscape. The document articulates a feminist agenda for the media and charts a path for action by various actors.

    We promote critical media research to generate evidence for education, awareness, training and advocacy, supporting women’s use of media for their own empowerment and for the development of their communities. It advocates full and equal participation of women in public communication so that their multiple and complex interests, experiences and realities become part of the public agenda. It also supports civil society evidence-building on media and marginalized sectors of society in order to advance social justice goals for all in and through the media.

    Our work has resulted in an extensive network of individuals and organizations concerned about gender, media and critical communication broadly, from grassroots activists to academics and development organisations.
    #femmes #genre #médias #presse

  • Paris streets, squares named in honour of LGBT+ figures

    Fifty years after New York City’s Stonewall riots laid the foundation for modern gay rights, Paris is carrying on that legacy by naming an array of streets and squares after historically important LGBT+ figures.

    New to the city map are Stonewall Riot and Harvey Milk squares – the first in recognition of the famous rebellion against Manhattan police in 1969; the latter in honour of the American civil rights leader and first openly gay politician to be elected in California.

    Other squares, gardens and passageways pay tribute to the likes of Irish gay rights activist Mark Ashton, French transsexual politician and poet Ovida-Delect and bisexual American writer and filmmaker Susan Sontag.

    There’s also a commemorative plaque in honour of Gilbert Baker, the man who invented the rainbow flag. Add to that Pierre Seel Street, named for the openly gay Holocaust survivor, and Place Renée Vivien, in honour of the British poet known for her Sapphic verse and party days during the Belle Epoque.

    Increasing LGBT+ visibility

    The new unveilings bring to more than 40 the number of people immortalised through plaques erected around the city – with most of them smattered about the vibrant 4th arrondissement, home to Paris’s unofficial gay district.

    These sorts of gestures are an important way of increasingly the visibility of the gay community and cementing its place in history, says Fabien Jannic-Cherbonnel, a journalist with the French LGBT+ news site Komitid.

    “France is very keen on talking about its history and the great men who shaped the country – and these plaques show people that women and LGBT+ figures are a part of that history, and they also helped to make this country what it is today,” he says.

    Paris playing catch-up

    While other European cities such as Amsterdam and Berlin are perhaps a little further ahead in celebrating the LGBT+ legacy, with their so-called “homomonuments” drawing in tourists, Paris is steadily playing catch-up – so much so the Town Hall has dared to label it the “flagship city of inclusion and diversity”.

    The street-naming gesture comes just ahead of this weekend’s pride march. Like many cities across the world, Paris cranks up the colour in June to celebrate gay pride – and this Saturday the capital will look like the rainbow city that mayor Anne Hidalgo has been striving to deliver.

    Tempering the pride party, however, is last month’s report by the French not-for-profit organisation SOS Homophobie, which noted a 15 percent rise in the number of homophobic attacks reported in 2018, compared with the previous year.

    While the NGO described 2018 as a “black year”, Jannic-Cherbonnel says the numbers aren’t necessarily evidence that homophobic assaults are on the rise.

    “This is a reflection of the number of calls that SOS received – which means that people are talking about it,” he says. “They know when something is wrong and when something happens they will report it.

    “I’m not convinced there’s a huge increase in homophobia in French society, especially in Paris, but we are talking more about it – which is good because this is all about visibility, which in turn helps to fight homophobia.”
    #LGBT #homosexualité #Paris #France #toponymie #noms_de_rue #Harvey_Milk

  • Cobra (Chinese band) - Wikipedia

    Cobra (眼镜蛇乐队 Yanjingshe yuedui) was an all-female rock band from Beijing, China. The band formed in 1989, becoming the first all-female rock band in mainland China. With only one album out, they disbanded in the late 1990s. Their style was a gloomy, bluesy type of hard rock with slight touches of new wave and alternative metal. Cobra was very popular in the beginning of their career.

    Group members include Yang Ying, Yu Jin, Wang Xiaofang, and Xiao Nan. They have played at CBGB in New York City.

    1994 - First released as Hypocrisy (Germany 1994, USA 1996) republished as Yanjingshe (China 1996)
    2000 - Cobra - Yangjingshe II (China)

    #Chine #musique #femmes

  • Revolt of the gig workers: How delivery rage reached a tipping point -

    Gig workers are fighting back.

    By their name, you might think independent contractors are a motley crew — geographically scattered, with erratic paychecks and tattered safety nets. They report to faceless software subroutines rather than human bosses. Most gig workers toil alone as they ferry passengers, deliver food and perform errands.

    But in recent weeks, some of these app-wielding workers have joined forces to effect changes by the multibillion-dollar companies and powerful algorithms that control their working conditions.

    Last week, Instacart shoppers wrung payment concessions from the grocery delivery company, which had been using customer tips to subsidize what it paid them. After outcries by workers on social media, in news reports and through online petitions, San Francisco’s Instacart said it had been “misguided.” It now adds tips on top of its base pay — as most customers and shoppers thought they should be — and will retroactively compensate workers who were stiffed on tips.

    New York this year became the first U.S. city to implement a minimum wage for Uber and Lyft, which now must pay drivers at least $17.22 an hour after expenses ($26.51 before expenses). Lyft, which sued over the requirement, last week gave in to driver pressure to implement it.

    For two years, drivers held rallies, released research, sent thousands of letters and calls to city officials, and gathered 16,000 petition signature among themselves. The Independent Drivers Guild, a union-affiliated group that represents New York ride-hail drivers and spearheaded the campaign, predicted per-driver pay boosts of up to $9,600 a year.

    That follows some other hard-fought worker crusades, such as when they persuaded Uber to finally add tipping to its app in 2017, a move triggered by several phenomena: a string of corporate scandals, the fact that rival Lyft had offered tipping from the get-go, and a class-action lawsuit seeking employment status for workers.

    “We’ll probably start to see more gig workers organizing as they realize that enough negative publicity for the companies can make something change,” said Alexandrea Ravenelle, an assistant sociology professor at New York’s Mercy College and author of “Hustle and Gig: Struggling and Surviving in the Sharing Economy.” “But companies will keep trying to push the envelope to pay workers as little as possible.”

    The current political climate, with tech giants such as Facebook and Google on hot seats over privacy, abuse of customer data and other issues, has helped the workers’ quests.

    “We’re at a moment of reckoning for tech companies,” said Alex Rosenblat, a technology ethnographer at New York’s Data & Society Research Institute and author of “Uberland: How Algorithms Are Rewriting the Rules of Work.” “There’s a techlash, a broader understanding that tech companies have to be held accountable as political institutions rather than neutral forces for good.”

    The climate also includes more consumer awareness of labor issues in the on-demand economy. “People are realizing that you don’t just jump in an Uber and don’t have to think about who’s driving you and what they make,” Ravenelle said. “There’s a lot more attention to gig workers’ plight.”

    Instacart customers were dismayed to discover that their tips were not going to workers on top of their pay as a reward for good service.

    Sage Wilson, a spokesman for Working Washington, a labor-backed group that helped with the Instacart shoppers’ campaign, said many more gig workers have emerged with stories of similar experiences on other apps.

    “Pay transparency really seems to be an issue across many of these platforms,” he said. “I almost wonder if it’s part of the reason why these companies are building black box algorithmic pay models in the first place (so) you might not even know right away if you got a pay cut until you start seeing the weekly totals trending down.”

    Cases in point: DoorDash and Amazon also rifle the tip jar to subsidize contractors’ base pay, as Instacart did. DoorDash defended this, saying its pay model “provides transparency, consistency, and predictability” and has increased both satisfaction and retention of its “Dashers.”

    But Kristen Anderson of Concord, a social worker who works part-time for DoorDash to help with student loans, said that was not her experience. Her pay dropped dramatically after DoorDash started appropriating tips in 2017, she said. “Originally it was worth my time and now it’s not,” she said. “It’s frustrating.”

    Debi LaBell of San Carlos, who does weekend work for Instacart on top of a full-time job, has organized with others online over the tips issue.

    “This has been a maddening, frustrating and, at times, incredibly disheartening experience,” said Debi LaBell of San Carlos, who does weekend work for Instacart on top of a full-time job. “When I first started doing Instacart, I loved getting in my car to head to my first shop. These past few months, it has taken everything that I have to get motivated enough to do my shift.”

    Before each shopping trip, she hand-wrote notes to all her customers explaining the tips issue. She and other shoppers congregated online both to vent and to organize.

    Her hope now is that Instacart will invite shoppers like her to hear their experiences and ideas.

    There’s poetic justice in the fact that the same internet that allows gig companies to create widely dispersed marketplaces provided gig workers space to find solidarity with one another.

    “It’s like the internet taketh and giveth,” said Eric Lloyd, an attorney at the law firm Seyfarth Shaw, which represents management, including some gig companies he wouldn’t name, in labor cases. “The internet gave rise to this whole new economy, giving businesses a way to build really innovative models, and it’s given workers new ways to advance their rights.”

    For California gig workers, even more changes are on the horizon in the wake of a ground-breaking California Supreme Court decision last April that redefined when to classify workers as employees versus independent contractors.

    Gig companies, labor leaders and lawmakers are holding meetings in Sacramento to thrash out legislative responses to the Dynamex decision. Options could range from more workers getting employment status to gig companies offering flexible benefits. Whatever happens, it’s sure to upend the status quo.

    Rather than piecemeal enforcement through litigation, arbitration and various government agencies such as unemployment agencies, it makes sense to come up with overall standards, Rosenblat said.

    “There’s a big need for comprehensive standards with an understanding of all the trade-offs,” she said. “We’re at a tipping point for change.”

    Carolyn Said is a San Francisco Chronicle staff writer. Email: Twitter: @csaid

    #USA #Kalifornien #Gig-Economy #Ausbeutung

  • Connecticut legislators to consider minimum pay for Uber and Lyft drivers - Connecticut Post

    By Emilie Munson, February 11, 2019 - Prompted by growing numbers of frustrated Uber and Lyft drivers, lawmakers will hold a hearing on establishing minimum pay for app-based drivers.

    After three separate legislative proposals regarding pay for drivers flooded the Labor and Public Employees Committee, the committee will raise the concept of driver earnings as a bill, said state Rep. Robyn Porter, D-New Haven, who chairs the committee, on Friday night.

    A coalition of Uber and Lyft drivers from New Haven has been pressuring lawmakers to pass a pay standard, following New York City’s landmark minimum pay ordinance for app-based drivers approved in December. The legislation, which set an earnings floor of $17.22 an hour for the independent contractors, took effect on Feb. 1.

    Connecticut drivers have no minimum pay guarantees.

    Guillermo Estrella, who drives for Uber, worked about 60 hours per week last year and received $25,422.65 in gross pay. His pay stub doesn’t reflect how much Estrella paid for insurance, gas, oil changes and wear-and-tear on his car. Factor those expenses in, and the Branford resident said his yearly take-home earnings were about $18,000 last year.

    Estrella and other New Haven drivers have suggested bill language to cap the portion of riders’ fares that Uber and Lyft can take at 25 percent, with the remaining 75 percent heading to drivers’ pockets. The idea has already received pushback from Uber, which said it was unrealistic given their current pay structure.

    Connecticut legislators have suggested two other models for regulating driver pay. State Sen. Steve Cassano, D-Manchester, filed a bill to set a minimum pay rate per mile and per minute for drivers. His bill has not assigned numbers to those minimums yet.

    “What (drivers) were making when Uber started and got its name, they are not making that anymore,” said Cassano. “The company is taking advantage of the success of the company. I understand that to a point, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of the drivers.”

    State Rep. Peter Tercyak, D-New Britain, proposed legislation that says if drivers’ earnings do not amount to hourly minimum wage payments, Uber or Lyft should have to kick in the difference. Connecticut’s minimum wage is now $10.10, although Democrats are making a strong push this year to raise it.

    As lawmakers consider these proposals, they will confront issues raised by the growing “gig economy”: a clash between companies seeking thousands of flexible, independent contractors and a workforce that wants the benefits and rights of traditional, paid employment.

    Some Democrats at the Capitol support the changes that favor drivers.

    “I thought it was important to make sure our labor laws are keeping up with the changes we are seeing in this emerging gig economy, that we have sufficient safeguards to make sure that drivers are not being exploited,” said Sen. Matt Lesser, D-Middletown.

    But the proposals also raise broad, difficult questions like what protections does a large independent contractor workforce need? And how would constraining the business model of Uber and Lyft impact service availability around the state?

    Sen. Craig Miner, a Republican of Litchfield who sits on the Labor committee, wondered why Uber and Lyft drivers should have guaranteed pay, when other independent contractors do not. How would this impact the tax benefits realized by independent contractors, he asked.

    Uber and Lyft declined to provide data on how many drivers they have in the state, and the Connecticut Department of Motor Vehicles does not keep count. In Connecticut, 82 percent of Lyft drivers drive fewer than 20 hours per week, said Kaelan Richards, a Lyft spokesperson.

    Last week, Hearst Connecticut Media spoke to 20 Uber and Lyft drivers in New Haven who are demanding lawmakers protect their pay. All drove full-time for Uber or Lyft or both.

    An immigrant from Ecuador, Estrella, the Branford driver, struggles to pay for rent and groceries for his pregnant wife and seven-year-old son using his Uber wages.

    “A cup of coffee at the local Starbucks cost $3 or $4,” said Estrella. “How can a trip can cost $3 when you have to drive to them five minutes away and drop them off after seven or eight minutes?”

    In December, 50 Uber and Lyft drivers held a strike in New Haven demanding better pay. The New Haven drivers last week said they are planning more strikes soon.

    “Why is Uber lowering the rates and why do we have to say yes to keep working?” asked Carlos Gomez, a Guilford Uber driver, last week.

    The drivers believe Uber and Lyft are decreasing driver pay and taking a larger chunk of rider fares for company profits. Many New Haven drivers said pay per mile has been decreasing. They liked Sen. Cassano’s idea of setting minimum pay per mile and per minute.

    “The payment by mile, it went down by 10 cents,” said Rosanna Olan, a driver from West Haven. “Before it was more than one dollar and now when you have a big truck SUV, working long distance especially is not worth it anymore.”

    Uber and Lyft both declined to provide pay rates per mile and per minute for drivers. Drivers are not paid for time spent driving to pick up a passenger, nor for time spent idling waiting for a ride, although the companies’ model depends on having drivers ready to pick up passengers at any moment.

    Lyft said nationally drivers earn an average of $18.83 an hour, but did not provide Connecticut specific earnings.

    “Our goal has always been to empower drivers to get the most out of Lyft, and we look forward to continBy Emilie Munson Updated 4:49 pm EST, Monday, February 11, 2019uing to do so in Connecticut, and across the country," said Rich Power, public policy manager at Lyft.

    Uber discouraged lawmakers from considering the drivers’ proposal of capping the transportation companies’ cut of rider fares. Uber spokesman Harry Hartfield said the idea wouldn’t work because Uber no longer uses the “commission model” — that stopped about two years ago.

    “In order to make sure we can provide customers with an up-front price, driver fares are not tied to what the rider pays,” said Hartfield. “In fact, on many trips drivers actually make more money than the rider pays.”

    What the rider is pays to Uber is an estimated price, calculated before the ride starts, Hartfield explained, while the driver receives from Uber a fare that is calculated based on actual drive time and distance. Changing the model could make it hard to give customers up-front pricing and “lead to reduced price transparency,” Hartfield said. New York’s changes raised rates for riders.

    James Bhandary-Alexander, a New Haven Legal Assistance attorney who is working with the drivers, said Uber’s current pay model is “irrelevant to how drivers want to be paid for the work.”

    “The reason that drivers care is it seems fundamentally unfair that the rider is willing to pay or has paid $100 for the ride and the driver has only gotten $30 or $40 of that,” he said.

    Pursuing any of the three driver-pay proposals would bring Uber and Lyft lobbyists back to the Capitol, where they negotiated legislation spearheaded by Rep. Sean Scanlon, D-Guilford, from 2015 to 2017.

    Scanlon said the companies eventually favored the bill passed in 2017, which, after some compromise, required drivers have insurance, limited “surge pricing,” mandated background checks for drivers, imposed a 25 cent tax collected by the state and stated passengers must be picked up and delivered anywhere without discrimination.

    “One of my biggest regrets about that bill, which I think is really good for consumers in Connecticut, is that we didn’t do anything to try to help the driver,” said Scanlon, who briefly drove for Uber.
    By Emilie Munson Updated 4:49 pm EST, Monday, February 11, 2019; Twitter: @emiliemunson

    #USA #Uber #Connecticut #Mindestlohn #Klassenkampf

  • Hundreds of Uber Drivers in Toronto Are Joining a Union

    In a growing number of cities where rideshare platforms operate, drivers are fed up with the low pay, long hours, and lack of basic worker protections that shlepping strangers around entails. In the U.S., this has led to large, coordinated protests and attempts to game the system to achieve a living wage. Canadian drivers, however, took a more traditional route: signing union cards.

    First announced on Monday, Uber drivers based in Toronto expressed their intention to join the United Food and Commercial Workers, a 250,000-strong trade union which operates in both Canada and the U.S. The actual number of drivers who had signed cards was not released, but during a press conference this afternoon, UFCW Canada staffer Pablo Godoy claimed their support had hit the “high hundreds” and were growing rapidly.

    As with grassroots groups like Rideshare Drivers United, the hope is to bring Uber’s work standards into closer parity with that of traditional cabs by upholding the regional minimum wage, sick day, vacation, and break standards, as well as an overhaul of the deactivation system that effectively allows Uber to fire drivers without recourse. “These are human rights, and all drivers deserve this basic level of respect,” Ejaz Butt, a local driver, said today.

    What makes Ontario an interesting test bed is that by signing with UFCW, drivers are effectively shooting first and asking questions later—which may end up being the wiser tactic. “Today is the beginning of a process that we’re embarking on. The first step of that process is to call Uber come to the table,” Godoy said, though he readily admits Uber has yet to offer a response. (For whatever it’s worth, Gizmodo also reached out to Uber for comment on Monday and has also not received a reply.) The same business model that allows Uber to consider its drivers independent contractors rather than employees exists in Canada just as it does in the U.S., and Uber is certain to defend its claim vociferously if it’s forced to acknowledge a threat to said claim at all.

    At the moment, the UFCW-signed drivers in Canada’s largest city are not certified as a union, and matters may be further complicated by the fact that most rideshare drivers operate on multiple platforms concurrently. “Having multiple employers does not mean that you’re not an employee of the company that you drive or work for,” Godoy stated, but it may still pose representation issues down the line.

    Currently, Toronto’s city government is weighing how to balance the interests of rideshare and cab companies—something New York already had a protracted fight over, eventually ruling in favor of drivers. Ultimately, Godoy told the press that “we believe Uber will listen to the concerns.”

    Toronto Uber drivers join the union - UFCW Canada – MEDIA CONFERENCE ALERT

    TORONTO, June 24, 2019 (GLOBE NEWSWIRE) — Hundreds of Uber drivers in Toronto have joined UFCW Canada (United Food and Commercial Workers union), the country’s leading private-sector union. On Wednesday, June 26, 2019 at 11 a.m., Uber drivers and their union will hold a media conference at the Sheraton Centre Toronto Hotel to discuss the challenges Uber drivers face, and the redress they and their union are seeking from Uber. 

    Uber drivers don’t get paid sick days, vacation days or extended health coverage, and must cover their own fuel and repair costs. A recent study by the Economic Policy Institute calculated that after costs, most Uber drivers earned less than $10 an hour. “Uber calls us partners, but we have absolutely no say about our working conditions, or even being able to take a bathroom break,” says Ejaz Butt, who works for Uber and helped start the union drive. “We know we make a lot of money for Uber but in return we get treated like we don’t matter.” Butt and other Uber drivers will be at the June 26th Toronto media conference.

    “Companies like UBER, who can hire and fire drivers and fully dictate the terms of employment should be held accountable for the well-being of their employees,” says Paul Meinema, the National President of UFCW Canada. “Uber is the employer. The drivers are employees. The technology is just a management tool and the company should adhere to the labour laws,” says the UFCW Canada leader, who will also be participating in the June 26th media conference in Toronto.

    About UFCW Canada: UFCW Canada represents more than 250,000 union members across the country working in food retail and processing, transportation, health, logistics, warehousing, agriculture, hospitality, manufacturing, security and professional sectors. UFCW Canada is the country’s most innovative organization dedicated to building fairness in workplaces and communities. UFCW Canada members are your neighbours who work at your local grocery stores, hotels, airport food courts, taxi firms, car rental agencies, nursing homes, restaurants, food processing plants and thousands of other locations across the country. To find out more about UFCW and its ground-breaking work, visit

    Pablo Godoy
    National Coordinator, Gig and Platform-Employer Initiatives
    416-675-1104, extension 2236

    #Kanada #Uber #Gewerkschaft

  • Comment réussir la transition démographique au Sahel, par Aïssa Diarra (Le Monde diplomatique, juillet 2019)

    L’autonomisation des femmes est promue sous le vocable anglais d’empowerment. La Commission de la condition de la femme (CSW) des Nations unies en a fait le centre de ses réflexions lors de sa soixante-troisième session, en mars 2019 à New York. Idem pour l’association internationale Women Deliver lors de sa conférence annuelle en juin 2019 à Vancouver. Le principe d’autonomisation tend à positionner les adolescentes comme des actrices à part entière de la mise en œuvre des projets qui leur sont destinés, et non seulement comme cibles. Or l’appropriation des projets par les adolescentes elles-mêmes et leur capacité à recourir aux services de santé sexuelle et reproductive constituent un défi multiforme, notamment en Afrique. Ce qui va de soi dans le contexte occidental, fortement influencé par les combats féministes et les luttes en faveur des droits de l’homme et de la femme, ne va plus de soi dans d’autres contextes, où les coutumes sociales, la religion et l’idéologie patriarcale dominent, et imposent d’autres valeurs.

    #Afrique #Sahel #jeunes_femmes #démographie

  • 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

  • How owning an Instagram-famous pet changes your politics.

    Ici on apprend que...
    – l’acquisition de followers instagram est big business
    – il faut une équipe composé de la star, du talent pour dessiner, photogrphier, écrire, entretenir des relations, gérer les finances ...
    – une mission et un message clair qui touchent un naximum d’intéressés
    – ne pas souffrir d’une allergie contre toute forme de commercialisation.

    –> les petits enfants et les animaux domestiques ou vivant en groupes familiales constituent le contenu de base idéal.
    #fcknstgrm #seenthis-pour-les-nuls

    Owners of social media–famous animals say the experience has shaped their politics and beliefs

    Matthew Rozsa, June 23, 2019 11:30PM (UTC)

    I must begin this article with a confession: If it weren’t for my fiancee, I never would have gotten so deep into the world of Instagram-famous pets.

    To say that they give her joy is an understatement. Many restful slumbers have been disrupted by her random exclamations of unbridled happiness, followed by her pressing an iPhone against my face while cooing, “Look at the adorable dog!” or “Isn’t this the most beautiful pig in the world?”

    At first I affectionately teased her for her obsession, but then I began to dig a little deeper. What I soon learned — first from a trip to Canada last year to visit the famous Esther the Wonder Pig and then from my own research — is that animal social media stars are more than just cute pets. They are at the vanguard of a new way of viewing humanity’s relationship with other species — one that has left a positive impact on the larger world.

    “We raise awareness for the Toronto Humane Society and the Basset Hound Rescue of Ontario on our social media platforms through posts and live broadcasts,” Nathan Sidon, who along with Carly Bright co-owns Dean the Basset, told Salon by email. Incidentally, Dean the Basset has over 400,000 followers across social media platforms.

    “We also donate a significant portion of the account’s profits to these charities (over $5,000 in the last 12 months),” Sidon adds. “It’s hard to follow Dean’s account and not see how much love, attention and care he’s showered with daily.... It’s my hope that our greatest contribution to this cause is by setting an example to all pet owners and anyone considering getting a pet of how to be the best pet-owner you can be.”

    According to Sidon, he and Bright believe that “pets are a privilege and that animals in your care should be made a top priority.” He added, though, that “in our case we’ve gone so far that whether or not we’ve become Dean’s slaves is a legitimate question. I think this really shines through on Dean’s account. He’s calling the shots!”

    Salon also emailed Gemma Gené, whose social media presence includes not only pictures of her beloved pug Mochi, but also a comic series that colorfully depicts his ebullient personality.

    “I was working as an architect in my first big job in New York,” Gené recalled when asked about how she met Mochi. “It was my dream job at the time but unfortunately the hours were crazy. I used to finish work at night every day and I had to work most weekends. I missed my dog Mochi so much during work. I always liked comics and used comic as a journal. I started drawing little stories about Mochi on my subway commutes. I posted them on Instagram and eventually they become big enough that I was able to focus on my art work.”

    Now she says that she has 250,000 followers on Instagram, over 50,000 on Facebook and over a 100,000 visits every day.

    “We have participated in several campaigns,” Gené told Salon when asked about her animal rights work. “We were part of Susie’s Senior Dogs and Foster dogs NYC #famousfosters campaign where they pair people who have big audiences with a senior dog to foster. This is a great way to show how important fostering is. We fostered a little senior that we renamed Dorito and was adopted after a very few days.”

    Gené says that she donates her artwork to raise money for dog rescues — including pug rescues.

    “A cause that is very dear to our hearts is the ’Animals are not property’ petition the Animal Legal Defense Fund is working on,” Gené explained. “We try to use our influence to share this message to help change the laws on animals so they stop being considered an object and start having rights.”

    “A big part of our work presents Mochi as a little character with a big personality, much closer to a human than what most people think of dogs. We are trying to show the world that animals are much more than objects and that have many more similarities to us than what we think,” she adds.

    Salon also reached out to Steve Jenkins, who, along with Derek Walter, co-owns Esther the Wonder Pig. They told Salon that their various social media pages have roughly 2,000,000 followers and garner around 450,000 interactions every week.

    “Esther was supposed to be a mini-pig, we never had any intention of anything else,” Jenkins wrote to Salon. “By the time we realized Esther wasn’t what we thought she was, and that she would in fact be many hundreds of pounds, we had fallen in love with her and weren’t willing to give up. Technically having a family member like Esther was illegal where we lived, so we kept it quiet and opted to make a ’little Facebook page’ to show our more removed friends and family what was happening. The page went viral somehow, and all of a sudden we had thousands of people checking in every day to see what she was up to.”

    Their ownership of Esther soon caused them to become full-time animal rights activists, eventually purchasing a farm where they keep pigs, dogs, turkeys, horses and at least one (literally) strutting peacock.

    “We have been able to establish the Happily Ever Esther Farm Sanctuary, where we rescue abused and abandoned farm animals,” Jenkins explained. “We donated the largest CT scanner in the world to our local veterinary hospital. Until then, the didn’t have equipment large enough to properly get proper diagnostic images for an animal Esther’s size. We also established a fund called ’Esther Shares’ that we use to pay the medical bills for other sanctuaries and rescue organization. Last but not least, we use our pages to help people build a relationship with Esther, something that can have a deep and lasting impact on the person’s life because of their newfound love and respect for pigs.”

    Jenkins, like Gené and Sidon, also told Salon that he began to reevaluate how human beings view their relationship with animals.

    “We think everybody has a connection with animals, but we learn over time to love some animals differently than others,” Jenkins explained. “Esther really leveled that playing field in our mind, and elevated farm animals to the position we previously reserved for companion animals like cats and dogs. She ignited a passion within us that we didn’t know we had. It became a mission of our to help others see Esther the way did, and to bring her larger than life personality across in a way that people could relate to.”

    These arguments are what makes the social media movements so powerful — and why, I suspect, my fiancee is so enamored with them. It is easy to objectify animals, to view them as vessels for whatever immediate function they can provide human beings (food, clothing, recreation). Yet by presenting their animals online as hilarious personalities, with quirks and stories of their own worth following, these sites help us see animals as more than just tools of human beings. They become individuals — and, like all individuals, worthy of not just affection, but respect.

    Gené, Jenkins and Sidon also had heartwarming stories about how their social media work had improved the lives of the two-legged animals who visit them.

    “Through photos and videos requested by fans, Dean has helped a teenager ask a girl to prom, surprised a bride on her wedding day, been the theme of a 90 year old woman’s [birthday] party, and the list goes on,” Sidon told Salon. “We’ve also received hundreds of very personal messages from fans around the world telling us that Dean’s account has provided them with a much needed daily dose of positivity that’s helped them when they’re going through difficult times in their life. Suffice to say that Dean gets a lot of love from around the world and he hopes to give the love back!”

    Jenkins had a similar story about Esther.

    “My favorite message ever came from a young mother in the southern United States,” Jenkins recalled. “She was having a rough time emotionally, and found Esther’s page was becoming a bit of a crutch for her. She would check every day to see what we were up to, and engage with our posts as a way to take her mind off stuff. One day she sent a message to let us know that we had been the source of most of her smiles lately. She wanted to thank us for helping keep a positive attitude, and for helping her show her two small boys that it was ok to have two dads [Jenkins is in a same-sex relationship with Walter] and a turkey for a brother. A family is a family no matter what it looks like, and I still well up when I think about her message.”

    Gené discussed how lucky she is to “have a very loving audience,” telling Salon that “we get hundreds of messages a day telling us the impact our comic has on people and they really fuel us to keep going. Some of them particularly warm my heart like when people say that our comics make them smile when they are going through a difficult time, or when they bring back sweet memories of an animal they loved that passed away.”

    She added, “If one day we don’t post anything, we get messages of people checking up on us. That made us realize we have a community that look forward to our posts daily.”

    I should add, on a final personal note, that I do not write this article from a position of presumed moral superiority. Despite vowing to eliminate my meat consumption since I visited the Esther farm last year, I have only been able to somewhat reduce it, and aside from writing pieces like this I can’t claim to have done very much to advance the cause of animal rights in my own life. Sometimes I suspect the plaque which clogs my arteries is karmic, a punishment for sustaining my own life at the expense of those animals who have given theirs, and one that will likely shorten my own time in this world.

    The goal here is not to shame those who eat meat, or search for a firm distinction between companion animals and farm animals. The point is that social media’s animals stars have made more people think of animals as individuals — to start to see them as living souls. That isn’t enough to solve the problems facing our world today, but it’s the only place where we can start.

    #animaux #business #politique #morale #affaires #instagram #médias

  • The Epoch Times

    Je constate que les membres de Falun Gong sont des personnes apolitiques et paisibles alors que les organisateurs du mouvement dépensent des millions pour soutenir des extrémistes de droite dans le monde entier. Ceci met en question les affirmations de l’organisation qui accuse la Chine d’emprisonner ses disciples afin de les tuer pour vendre leurs d’organes.

    The Epoch Times is a multi-language newspaper headquartered in New York City. The company was founded in 2000 by John Tang and a group of Chinese Americans associated with the Falun Gong spiritual movement. The newspaper covers general interest topics with a focus on news about China and human rights issues there. It draws from a network of sources inside China, as well as Chinese expatriates living in the West. It is also known for coverage favorable to rightist politicians in the West, including Donald Trump in the United States and far-right groups in Germany.

    The Epoch Times is widely distributed in overseas Chinese communities, and has been publishing in Chinese since May 2000. It is either sold or distributed free-of-charge in 35 countries, including various intranational regional editions. It has editions in English, Chinese and nine other languages in print, as well as 21 different languages on the internet.

    #Chine #religion #politique #extrême_droite

  • 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 ».

  • The woman fighting back against India’s rape culture

    When a man tried to rape #Usha_Vishwakarma she decided to fight back by setting up self-defence classes for women and girls.

    At first, people accused her of being a sex worker. But now she runs an award-winning organisation and has won the community’s respect.
    #Inde #résistance #femmes #culture_du_viol

    • In China, a Viral Video Sets Off a Challenge to Rape Culture

      The images were meant to exonerate #Richard_Liu, the e-commerce mogul. They have also helped fuel a nascent #NoPerfectVictim movement.

      Richard Liu, the Chinese e-commerce billionaire, walked into an apartment building around 10 p.m., a young woman on his arm and his assistant in tow. Leaving the assistant behind, the young woman took Mr. Liu to an elevator. Then, she showed him into her apartment.

      His entrance was captured by the apartment building’s surveillance cameras and wound up on the Chinese internet. Titled “Proof of a Gold Digger Trap?,” the heavily edited video aimed to show that the young woman was inviting him up for sex — and that he was therefore innocent of her rape allegations against him.

      For many people in China, it worked. Online public opinion quickly dismissed her allegations. In a country where discussion of rape has been muted and the #MeToo movement has been held back by cultural mores and government censorship, that could have been the end of the story.

      But some in China have pushed back. Using hashtags like #NoPerfectVictim, they are questioning widely held ideas about rape culture and consent.

      The video has become part of that debate, which some feminism scholars believe is a first for the country. The government has clamped down on discussion of gender issues like the #MeToo movement because of its distrust of independent social movements. Officials banned the #MeToo hashtag last year. In 2015, they seized gender rights activists known as the Feminist Five. Some online petitions supporting Mr. Liu’s accuser were deleted.

      But on Weibo, the popular Chinese social media service, the #NoPerfectVictim hashtag has drawn more than 17 million page views, with over 22,000 posts and comments. Dozens at least have shared their stories of sexual assault.

      “Nobody should ask an individual to be perfect,” wrote Zhou Xiaoxuan, who has become the face of China’s #MeToo movement after she sued a famous TV anchor on allegations that he sexually assaulted her in 2014 when she was an intern. “But the public is asking this of the victims of sexual assault, who happen to be in the least favorable position to prove their tragedies.” Her lawsuit is pending.

      The allegations against Mr. Liu, the founder and chairman of the online retailer, riveted China. He was arrested last year in Minneapolis after the young woman accused him of raping her after a business dinner. The prosecutors in Minnesota declined to charge Mr. Liu. The woman, Liu Jingyao, a 21-year-old student at the University of Minnesota, sued Mr. Liu and is seeking damages of more than $50,000. (Liu is a common surname in China.)

      Debate about the incident has raged online in China. When the “Gold Digger” video emerged, it shifted sentiment toward Mr. Liu.
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      Mr. Liu’s attorney in Beijing, who shared the video on Weibo under her verified account, said that according to her client the video was authentic.

      “The surveillance video speaks for itself, as does the prosecutor’s decision not to bring charges against our client,” Jill Brisbois, Mr. Liu’s attorney in the United States, said in a statement. “We believe in his innocence, which is firmly supported by all of the evidence, and we will continue to vigorously defend his reputation in court.”

      The video is silent, but subtitles make the point so nobody will miss it. “The woman showed Richard Liu into the elevator,” says one. “The woman pushed the floor button voluntarily,” says another. “Once again,” says a third, “the woman gestured an invitation.”

      Still, the video does not show the most crucial moment, which is what happened between Mr. Liu and Ms. Liu after the apartment door closed.

      “The full video depicts a young woman unable to locate her own apartment and a billionaire instructing her to take his arm to steady her gait,” said Wil Florin, Ms. Liu’s attorney, who accused Mr. Liu’s representatives of releasing the video. “The release of an incomplete video and the forceful silencing of Jingyao’s many social media supporters will not stop a Minnesota civil jury from hearing the truth.” declined to comment on the origin of the video.

      In the eyes of many, it contradicted the narrative in Ms. Liu’s lawsuit of an innocent, helpless victim. In my WeChat groups, men and women alike said the video confirmed their suspicions that Ms. Liu was asking for sex and was only after Mr. Liu’s money. A young woman from a good family would never socialize on a business occasion like that, some men said. A businesswoman asked why Ms. Liu didn’t say no to drinks.

      At first, I saw the video as a setback for China’s #MeToo movement, which was already facing insurmountable obstacles from a deeply misogynistic society, internet censors and a patriarchal government. Already, my “no means no” arguments with acquaintances had been met with groans.
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      The rare people of prominence who spoke in support of Ms. Liu were getting vicious criticism. Zhao Hejuan, chief executive of the technology media company TMTPost, had to disable comments on her Weibo account after she received death threats. She had criticized Mr. Liu, a married man with a young daughter, for not living up to the expectations of a public figure.

      Then I came across a seven-minute video titled “I’m also a victim of sexual assault,” in which four women and a man spoke to the camera about their stories. The video, produced by organizers of the hashtag #HereForUs, tried to clearly define sexual assault to viewers, explaining that it can take place between people who know each other and under complex circumstances.

      The man was molested by an older boy in his childhood. One of the women was raped by a classmate when she was sick in bed. One was assaulted by a powerful man at work but did not dare speak out because she thought nobody would believe her. One was raped after consuming too much alcohol on a date.

      “Slut-shaming doesn’t come from others,” she said in the video. “I’ll be the first one to slut-shame myself.”

      One woman with a red cross tattooed on her throat said an older boy in her neighborhood had assaulted her when she was 10. When she ran home, her parents scolded her for being late after school.

      “My childhood ended then and there,” she said in the video. “I haven’t died because I toughed it out all these years.”

      The video has been viewed nearly 700,000 times on Weibo. But creators of the video still have a hard time speaking out further, reflecting the obstacles faced by feminists in China.

      It was produced by a group of people who started the #HereForUs hashtag in China as a way to support victims of sexual harassment and assault. They were excited when I reached out to interview them. One of them postponed her visit to her parents for the interview.

      Then the day before our meeting, they messaged me that they no longer wanted to be interviewed. They worried that their appearance in The New York Times could anger the Chinese government and get their hashtag censored. I got a similar response from the organizer of the #NoPerfectVictim hashtag. Another woman begged me not to connect her name to the Chinese government for fear of losing her job.

      Their reluctance is understandable. They believe their hashtags have brought women together and given them the courage to share their stories. Some victims say that simply telling someone about their experiences is therapeutic, making the hashtags too valuable to be lost, the organizers said.

      “The world is full of things that hurt women,” said Liang Xiaowen, a 27-year-old lawyer now living in New York City. She wrote online that she had been molested by a family acquaintance when she was 11 and had lived with shame and guilt ever since. “I want to expand the boundaries of safe space by sharing my story.”

      A decentralized, behind-the-scenes approach is essential if the #MeToo movement is to grow in China, said Lü Pin, founding editor of Feminist Voices, an advocacy platform for women’s rights in China.

      “It’s amazing that they created such a phenomenon under such difficult circumstances,” Ms. Lü said.
      #Chine #vidéo

  • ’Orientalism,’ Then and Now | by Adam Shatz | NYR Daily | The New York Review of Books

    Un retour sur l’histoire de l’orientalisme et sa « mutation » à l’époque actuelle.

    Edward Said’s Orientalism is one of the most influential works of intellectual history of the postwar era. It is also one of the most misunderstood. Perhaps the most common misunderstanding is that it is “about” the Middle East; on the contrary, it is a study of Western representations of the Arab-Islamic world—of what Said called “mind-forg’d manacles,” after William Blake. The book’s conservative critics misread it as a nativist denunciation of Western scholarship, ignoring its praise for Louis Massignon, Jacques Berque, and Clifford Geertz, while some Islamists praised the book on the basis of the same misunderstanding, overlooking Said’s commitment to secular politics.

    Since the book’s first publication in 1978, “Orientalism” has become one of those words that shuts down conversation on liberal campuses, where no one wants to be accused of being “Orientalist” any more than they want to be called racist, sexist, homophobic, or transphobic. That “Orientalist” is now a commonly applied epithet is a tribute to the power of Said’s account, but also to its vulgarization. With Orientalism, Said wanted to open a discussion about the way the Arab-Islamic world had been imagined by the West—not to prevent a clear-eyed reckoning with the region’s problems, of which he was all too painfully aware.

  • La pellicule invisible d’Alice Guy

    Bien qu’Alice Guy-Blaché soit française et la réalisatrice d’une œuvre protéiforme, il y a peu de chances pour que Be Natural : The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blaché, le documentaire de Pamela B. Green sorti depuis peu aux Etats-Unis, soit montré en France. Il n’a trouvé, pour l’heure, aucun distributeur dans l’Hexagone, quand l’Australie, la Nouvelle-Zélande, la Suède, la Norvège, le Danemark, la Finlande, l’Estonie, la Lettonie, la Lituanie et l’Espagne ont acheté les droits. Doit-on s’en étonner ? Non, à en croire la réalisatrice, dont le film dénonce l’indifférence têtue de la France vis-à-vis d’une pionnière du cinéma. A ce titre, il n’est pas exagéré de dire que le véritable sujet de Be Natural, enquête cinématographique et making of de cette enquête, porte sur la façon dont l’histoire se fait, puis s’écrit - ou pas - et se réécrit.

    Née en 1873, Alice Guy commence sa carrière en 1894, à 21 ans, comme sténodactylographe d’un certain Léon Gaumont. L’année suivante, elle assiste avec son patron à la première projection organisée par les frères Lumières. Gaumont saisit tout de suite l’importance du procédé, qu’il entend développer. Alice Guy se propose aussitôt de participer à l’aventure en créant des petits films courts. Gaumont accepte, au motif que « c’est un métier pour jeunes filles (sic) ». Loin d’être un art, le cinématographe n’est pas encore une profession, tout au plus une occupation d’amateurs - idéale pour une femme, donc.

    Alice Guy a trouvé sa vocation. Dès 1896, elle réalise ce qui peut être considéré comme le premier film de fiction, la Fée aux choux, soit moins d’une minute où l’on voit une plantureuse fée sortir des nourrissons de choux en cartons, artistiquement dessinés. Suivront près de mille films, sur dix-sept ans de carrière où Alice Guy, désormais directrice de production chez Gaumont, assure souvent tous les rôles - réalisatrice, scénariste, habilleuse… Elle touche à tous les genres, le comique, le drame sentimental, le western, le « clip » musical avec des chansonniers comme Mayol ou Dranem, et même le péplum avec son « chef-d’œuvre », la Vie du Christ (1906), film en vingt-cinq tableaux, d’une longueur totale de trente-cinq minutes, très inhabituelle pour l’époque. Elle participe à toutes les innovations comme la colorisation et, surtout, le chronophone, ancêtre du parlant, qu’elle part introduire aux Etats-Unis en 1907. C’est le deuxième volet de sa carrière, qui la voit s’épanouir à New York, où elle est partie avec son mari, le réalisateur Herbert Blaché. Bien que jeune mère, elle ne renonce pas à sa passion, bien au contraire, et ce malgré la difficulté qu’elle éprouvera toujours à maîtriser l’anglais. Elle parvient même à fonder sa propre compagnie, Solax, implantée à Fort Lee (New Jersey) et considérée comme le studio le plus important aux Etats-Unis de l’ère pré-Hollywood. Mais en 1921, en instance de divorce, alors que Solax a été en partie endommagé par un incendie, elle décide de rentrer en France.

    Commence alors une période sombre, qui s’étirera jusqu’à la fin de sa vie, en 1968. Sombre car Alice Guy, avec deux enfants à charge, ne parvient pas à trouver de travail. On ne l’a pas seulement oubliée : alors que paraissent les premières histoires du cinéma, son œuvre est effacée ou attribuée à d’autres, acteurs ou assistants qu’elle a employés, comme Feuillade. Même Gaumont, qui publie l’histoire de sa maison, la passe sous silence. Il promet des corrections pour la seconde édition - et des brouillons prouvent qu’il entendait tenir sa promesse - mais il meurt en 1946, avant la parution prévue du volume, qui ne verra jamais le jour.

    Comprenant que le cinéma lui a désormais fermé ses portes, Alice Guy entreprend de se faire elle-même justice. Elle corrige les premières histoire(s) du cinéma qui paraissent, tente de récupérer ses œuvres, perdues, oubliées, éparpillées chez les premiers collectionneurs. Non signés, dépourvus de génériques, sans crédits ni copyrights, les films d’Alice Guy semblent ne plus exister que dans la mémoire de leur créatrice. En désespoir de cause, elle écrit ses souvenirs. Aucun éditeur n’en voudra. L’Autobiographie d’une pionnière du cinéma paraîtra à titre posthume chez Denoël, en 1976. Une préface de Nicole-Lise Bernheim ouvre le livre par ces mots : « Si j’étais née en 1873 […]. / Si j’avais travaillé chez Gaumont pendant onze ans / […]. Si j’avais été la seule femme metteur en scène du monde entier pendant dix-sept ans, / Qui serais-je ? / Je serais connue, / Je serais célèbre, / Je serais fêtée, / Je serais reconnue. / […]. Qui suis-je ? / Méliès, Lumière, Gaumont ? / Non. / Je suis une femme. »

    Encouragée par Léon Gaumont, qui sut lui confier d’importantes responsabilités, objet d’hommages appuyés signés - excusez du peu - Eisenstein ou Hitchcock, Alice Guy n’a pas tant été victime « des hommes » que des historiens du cinéma. Son effacement est l’exemplification même d’un déni d’histoire. Une femme peut réussir - et Alice Guy l’a prouvé avec éclat - mais à partir du moment où une pratique amateur devient une profession, un art et un enjeu commercial, elle n’a plus sa place dans la légende. Prenez Méliès. Lui aussi a été oublié, son œuvre effacée, tandis qu’il tombait dans la misère et survivait en vendant des bonbons devant la gare Montparnasse. Mais dès 1925, l’Histoire du cinématographe de ses origines à nos jours, par Georges-Michel Coissac lui redonnait sa place, qui ne fera dès lors que grandir. Le nom d’Alice Guy n’y est même pas mentionné. Georges Sadoul a attribué ses films à d’autres, Langlois l’a négligée, Toscan du Plantier, directeur de la Gaumont de 1975 à 1985, ne savait même pas qui elle était. Et la France, aujourd’hui, rechigne à diffuser Be Natural, documentaire passionnant et presque trop dense, tant le nombre d’informations, glanées pendant dix ans, peine à rentrer dans les 103 minutes du film. On se consolera avec les quelques films d’Alice Guy disponibles sur YouTube (1), dont l’hilarant les Résultats du féminisme (1906), qui inverse les rôles de genre. Edifiant.

    (1) On trouvera aussi sur YouTube le Jardin oublié : la vie et l’œuvre d’Alice Guy-Blaché (1995), documentaire de Marquise Lepage. A mentionner également, le prix Alice-Guy, qui a récompensé cette année Un amour impossible, de Catherine Corsini.

    #invisibilisation #historicisation #femmes #cinema

    Quand est-ce qu’on efface les historiens du cinéma ?

  • Robert Reich : Hey Uber, the gig is up –

    par Robert Reich, ancien ministre du travail sous Clinton

    Uber just filed its first quarterly report as a publicly traded company. Although it lost $1bn, investors may still do well because the losses appear to be declining.

    Uber drivers, on the other hand, aren’t doing well. According to a recent study, about half of New York’s Uber drivers are supporting families with children, yet 40% depend on Medicaid and another 18% on food stamps.

    It’s similar elsewhere in the new American economy. Last week, the New York Times reported that fewer than half of Google workers are full-time employees. Most are temps and contractors receiving a fraction of the wages and benefits of full-time Googlers, with no job security.

    Across America, the fastest-growing category of new jobs is gig work – contract, part-time, temp, self-employed and freelance. And a growing number of people work for staffing firms that find them gig jobs.

    The standard economic measures – unemployment and income – look better than Americans feel

    Estimates vary but it’s safe to say almost a quarter of American workers are now gig workers. Which helps explain why the standard economic measures – unemployment and income – look better than Americans feel.

    Gig workers are about 30% cheaper because companies pay them only when they need them, and don’t have to spend on the above-mentioned labor protections.

    Increasingly, businesses need only a small pool of “talent” anchored in the enterprise – innovators and strategists responsible for the firm’s competitive strength.

    Other workers are becoming fungible, sought only for reliability and low cost. So, in effect, economic risks are shifting to them.

    Gig work is making capitalism harsher. Unless government defines legitimate gig work more narrowly and provides stronger safety nets for gig workers, gig capitalism cannot endure.

    #Travail #Ubérisation #Uber #Gig_economy

  • Venezuela : maintenir l’opposition unie, c’est Mission Impossible,…
    (Mike Pompeo, …)

    Secretary of State Pompeo says uniting Venezuelan opposition ‘devilishly difficult’ - The Washington Post

    Secretary of State Mike Pompeo, accompanied by Colombian Vice President Marta Lucía Ramírez, visits a center for displaced Venezuelans in Cúcuta, Colombia, on April 14, 2019.
    (Luisa Gonzalez/Reuters)

    Exclusive: In secret recording, Pompeo opens up about Venezuelan opposition, says keeping it united ‘has proven devilishly difficult’

    Secretary of State Mike Pompeo offered a candid assessment of Venezuela’s opposition during a closed-door meeting in New York last week, saying that the opponents of President Nicolás Maduro are highly fractious and that U.S. efforts to keep them together have been more difficult than is publicly known.

    “Our conundrum, which is to keep the opposition united, has proven devilishly difficult,” Pompeo said in an audio recording obtained by The Washington Post. “The moment Maduro leaves, everybody’s going to raise their hands and [say], ‘Take me, I’m the next president of Venezuela.’ It would be forty-plus people who believe they’re the rightful heir to Maduro.”

    The remarks provide a rare window into the challenges the Trump administration faces as the momentum to oust Maduro stalls and some of the countries that initially backed the opposition explore alternative diplomatic paths to resolve the crisis.

  • Sur le capitalisme patriarcal : entretien avec Silvia Federici - ACTA, partisan.e.s dans la métropole

    Quelle importance de la grève féministe aujourd’hui ? Quels sont les apports de l’opéraïsme au féminisme de la reproduction sociale ? Comment dénaturaliser le travail ménager ? La révolution communiste est-elle d’actualité ?

    Dans le sillage de notre série d’entretiens avec des figures du féminisme contemporain pour ACTA, après une première vidéo en compagnie de Françoise Vergès sur le féminisme décolonial, nous avons rencontré Silvia Federici suite à la parution aux éditions la Fabrique de son dernier ouvrage : Le Capitalisme Patriarcal. Nous en publions ici la version intégrale.

    Silvia Federici (née en 1942 à Parme en Italie) est une universitaire, enseignante et militante féministe radicale. Elle est professeure émérite et chercheuse à l’Université Hofstra à New York. Elle a notamment écrit Caliban et la sorcière (éditions entremonde - 2017) et le Capitalisme patriarcal (La fabrique éditions - 2019)

    #féminisme #travail_ménager #travail_de_reproduction #opéraïsme #salaire_contre_le_le_travail_ménager #Afrique #entretien #vidéo

  • #Mir_Streiked !

    „Mir Streiked!“ ist die Hymne für der Schweizerischen Frauen*streiktag 2019. SASA, KimBo, Mer Ayang und Sascha Rijkeboer komponieren in ihrer musikalischen Unterschiedlichkeit ein Lied, das gleichzeitig bewegt, anklagt und mobilisiert.

    #grève_féministe #14_juin #femmes #grève #Suisse #chanson #14_juin_2019 #hymne
    #musique_et_politique (ping @sinehebdo)

    v. aussi le #manifeste académique de la grève :

    et une tribune sur le #féminicide, tribune publiée en lien avec la grève :

    • "Les femmes gagnent 108 milliards de moins que les hommes"

      Alors que l’égalité salariale est au coeur de la grève des femmes prévue le 14 juin, Manuela Honegger, politologue et politicienne indépendante, relève qu’en une année « les femmes gagnent 108 milliards de moins que les hommes ».

      « L’écart de revenu entre l’homme et la femme reste notre préoccupation première », a affirmé dans La Matinale Manuela Honegger, membre du collectif genevois pour la grève des femmes. De plus, le travail domestique effectué par les femmes n’est toujours pas reconnu.

      « On estime aujourd’hui que faire à manger a plus de valeur en Suisse que ce que le secteur financier produit, la valeur que les femmes produisent tous les jours gratuitement et qui péjore leur vie est énorme. A la fin de l’année, les femmes gagnent 108 milliards de moins que les hommes », a précisé la politicienne.

      De plus, « sur la base des différences salariales, les femmes devraient seulement travailler jusqu’à 57 ans et pas jusqu’à 64 ans », a-t-elle encore indiqué.
      Chiffre pas connu

      « La politique ne nous prend pas au sérieux, nous les femmes, et ne met pas nos préoccupations au centre », a encore souligné la politicienne. Alors que tout le monde connaît le nombre d’étrangers vivant en Suisse, « cela fait 25 ans que l’UDC martèle ces chiffres », combien de personnes connaissent le pourcentage des femmes qui font la lessive ou qui assument l’éducation des enfants ?

      « Les femmes accomplissent 80% de la lessive faite en Suisse et assument 70% de l’éducation des enfants. Ce sont des réalités à mettre sur l’agenda politique, c’est pourquoi nous avons choisi la grève. La grève est un moyen de pression pour dire stop », a conclu #Manuela_Honegger.


    • Vers la grève féministe en Suisse

      Dans cet entretien, Anouk (étudiante, investie dans les mouvements étudiants et de l’immigration coloniale et post-coloniale) et Maimouna (militante queer antiraciste « qui penche du côté marxiste de la force » et qui travaille dans un syndicat interprofessionnel du secteur public) nous livrent un récit du processus qui va porter nombreuses femmes* en Suisse à se mettre en grève pour la journée du 14 juin 2019. Nous saissons l’occasion pour relayer le manifeste de la grève, dont il est beaucoup question dans l’interview, et une émission radio sur cette lutte, dont le titre annonce : Ne changeons pas les femmes, changeons la société !

      – PEM : Le 14 juin se tiendra en Suisse une grève des femmes et féministe : Quel a été votre rapport à cette grève ?

      M : J’ai participé à cette grève surtout par l’organisation des travailleuses au sein de mon syndicat, mais également pendant une période par le biais de la coordination romande et du collectif genevois. Pour des raisons de santé, je n’ai pas pu participer à tout l’aspect collectif et de coordination des six derniers mois. Cette grève m’a accompagnée durant toute l’année et le fait de participer à sa construction sur les lieux de travail a sûrement été une des expériences militantes les plus intéressantes de ma vie.

      A : De mon côté, j’ai une position assez ambiguë par rapport à la grève. Rationnellement et politiquement, je suis super emballée par le processus. Je suis convaincue de la nécessité de s’y investir, et de la justesse d’organiser une grève générale à partir d’une position féministe. Mais d’un point de vue subjectif, j’arrive pas à me sentir concernée ou impliquée d’une quelconque manière. Pour plusieurs raisons, je n’arrive plus du tout à m’identifier aux discours du type “nous les femmes”, même si j’ai une compréhension du monde et des manières de me comporter profondément féministes. Du coup, je me suis tenue un peu à l’écart de tout le processus d’organisation de la grève, et j’ai juste participé aux débuts de la rédaction du manifeste, et j’ai été co-organisatrice de la journée du 10 février.

      – PEM : Pouvez-vous nous dire comment en Suisse on en est arrivé à organiser une grève féministe ? Quels ont été les éléments déclencheurs ?

      M : En Suisse, cette grève a été impulsée par des femmes syndicalistes après une énième discussion au parlement sur un projet de loi sur l’égalité salariale qui n’a abouti à rien. Je pense que c’est un aspect assez intéressant, notamment par rapport à d’autres endroits où ce genre de mobilisation a eu lieu, comme dans l’Etat espagnol, où le rôle des syndicats était beaucoup moins fort, voire un frein à l’organisation de cette mobilisation. Néanmoins, l’impulsion ne vient pas des directions syndicales mais plutôt de la base. Elles ont d’ailleurs plutôt été forcées à rejoindre le mouvement sous pression de leurs militantes. Je trouves aussi assez intéressant que ça vienne pas forcément de femmes très jeunes à la base, mais plutôt de militantes assez expérimentées, même si ça a très vite pris chez les femmes plus jeunes. Certaines étaient déjà là en 1991, lors de la première grève des femmes en Suisse d’ailleurs.

      A : Il y a une autre particularité par rapport à la Suisse. Ici, la construction de la grève s’appuie sur un réseau militant de syndicalistes féministes, de féministes organisées dans des partis de gauche radicale, et aussi de féministes autonomes, qui s’étaient toutes mobilisées contre cette loi sur l’augmentation de l’âge de la retraite - soutenue par les centrales syndicales au niveau national. Il y a donc une filiation entre cette opposition référendaire dans le champ institutionnel et l’impulsion de la grève féministe.

      – PEM : Pouvez-vous préciser quel a été le rôle des syndicats par rapport au mouvement ?

      M : Il faut bien comprendre que ce mouvement vient de la base. Il y a eu cette énorme manifestation à Berne qui a réuni 22 000 personnes en septembre 2018. Pour la petite histoire, chaque deux ans la plus grande organisation syndicale, l’USS [1], organise une manifestation nationale. Il s’agit avant tout d’une démonstration de force mais souvent avec un contenu politique très institutionnel. Donc du coup, comme chaque deux ans, l’USS a choisi un thème, et cette année-là c’était l’égalité salariale. Il n’y avait pas la volonté de parler de la grève qui se prépare aujourd’hui mais l’idée c’était simplement de mettre en avant cette revendication qui pouvait plaire à tout le monde. Le mouvement a fini par presque troller cette manifestation en créant un tronçon appelant à la grève féministe en 2019, ce qui a fait apparaître clairement nos revendications comme bien plus larges et radicales. Ça s’est fait littéralement aux nez et à la barbe des centrales syndicales qui ne voulaient parler que d’égalité salariale.

      A : Dès le début, et en raison de la manière dont le mouvement s’est structuré, il a appelé à aller plus loin qu’une grève « classique », qui reste contenue à un cadre de rapport salarié uniquement. Tout ceci ouvre des perspectives beaucoup plus larges, et ça remue le mouvement ouvrier dans son ensemble, notamment sur la question du travail reproductif, et de la grève politique (qui est d’ailleurs implicitement interdite par notre Constitution [2]).

      M : C’est vraiment important cette question de grève politique en Suisse. On a réussi à la rendre licite grâce à des mécanismes assez alambiqués, sachant que le droit de grève bien qu’inscrit dans notre constitution, est très limité.

      – PEM : Comment s’est organisé et structuré le mouvement pour la grève ? Quelles sont les formes d’organisation que vous vous êtes données et est-ce qu’elles sont présentes sur l’ensemble du territoire suisse (les différents cantons, dans les villes ou en campagne, etc.) ?

      M : En fait, le mouvement est né en Suisse romande et Suisse italienne et la Suisse allemande a rejoint le mouvement un peu plus tard. Actuellement, quasiment tous les cantons suisses et les grandes villes ont un collectif organisant la grève. Honnêtement, quand ça a commencé, ça aurait pu être ce genre d’initiatives super sympas lancées par dix meufs motivées qui aboutit à 5000 femmes dans la rue un an plus tard. Mais là, ça a pris bien plus d’ampleur ! Je pense que la manière dont le mouvement s’est construit, notamment la démocratie interne, la décentralisation, et surtout la totale liberté laissée aux collectifs - avec juste le Manifeste comme garde-fou - font que c’est un mouvement à la fois très large et radical.

      A : Oui, j’ai le souvenir d’une militante syndicale qui disait que ça avait impulsé la formation de collectifs sur plein de lieux de travail, ce qui en Suisse, est dingue ! En tous cas, je pensais pas que ça serait un truc aussi énorme, et que ça lancerait autant de personnes à s’organiser sur leur lieu de travail, de formation, etc. Au-delà même du 14 juin, ça ouvre des perspectives d’organisation beaucoup plus larges.

      M : La décentralisation du mouvement est très particulière mais aussi très adaptée à notre contexte fédéral. C’est vraiment une organisation décentralisée, qui part des collectifs locaux. C’est très difficile pour moi de parler de ce qui passe dans les cantons suisses alémaniques. Ce que je vois sur les réseaux sociaux (car le mouvement y est assez actif), c’est qu’en fait, finalement, dans des endroits où j’aurais pas pensé, il y a des choses qui se construisent.

      A : Le caractère de radicalité du mouvement est aussi lié au fait qu’il se construit au niveau national, au-delà des barrières linguistiques, mais d’une manière décentralisée comme tu l’as dit. C’est quand même très rare en Suisse. Mais l’organisation ne se fait pas uniquement selon des bases purement géographiques (ville, canton, etc.), mais aussi en fonction des lieux d’activité, sur les lieux de travail et de formation, etc.

      M : Je pense que c’est grâce aux organisatrices qui ont vraiment tout mis en place pour permettre la plus grande démocratie possible, ce qui est hallucinant et qui a représenté un travail phénoménal. S’assurer toujours qu’il existe des espaces de dialogues où les questions de contenu mais aussi de forme peuvent être entendues et discutées, ce qui a notamment permis de créer ce Manifeste avec une adhésion très large, a, d’après moi permis cette construction très large d’un mouvement.

      – PEM : Qu’est-ce qu’a apporté au mouvement la rédaction d’un manifeste ? Quels thèmes principaux en sont ressorti ?

      M : Alors, le manifeste regroupe dix-neuf revendications. Elles concernent tout : le rapport au corps, le rapport au travail, notamment l’inégalité salariale, mais la question du travail reproductif est également très développée. Je pense qu’on trouve pas le terme “anti-capitalisme” dans le texte (même si le terme capitalisme doit y apparaître), mais dans le fond, on est dans des revendications vraiment en rupture. Beaucoup de revendications tournent autour du monde du travail. Déjà parce que ce mouvement est très syndical mais aussi parce que les enjeux autour des inégalités sur les lieux de travail sont encore loin d’être résolus. Il n’y a pas de réelles protections contre les inégalités salariales, les protections contre le sexisme sur le lieu de travail sont peu ou mal mis en place, et la dévalorisation sociale et salariale des métiers typiquement féminins existe. On est quand même un pays où les personnes travaillant dans l’économie domestique ne sont même pas soumises à la loi sur le travail dont le texte est censé protéger les travailleuses et travailleurs.

      A : Oui, notamment celle de réduction du temps de travail ! Et la question des violences sexistes est aussi importante pour nous. C’est vrai qu’avec le Manifeste, on donne une vision d’unité, comme si tout le monde était d’accord sur tout, mais il y a quand même eu des grosses contradictions internes. D’ailleurs, la force du cas suisse, c’est d’avoir pu dépasser ces contradictions et de ne pas s’être scindé. C’est peut-être lié à la culture du compromis suisse [rires]. Dans tous les cas, il y a eu un travail politique phénoménal sur les sujets de dissension, pour aboutir à une orientation d’un féminisme de classe et anticapitaliste, et aussi sur la question de la pénalisation des violences de genre. À la première séance de rédaction du Manifeste en août passé, les nombreuses personnes présentes étaient réparties en groupes de travail « par thématique », où on discutait de nos revendications et leur articulation. Il se trouve que j’ai eu la bonne idée d’aller au groupe sur les violences faites aux femmes. C’était assez difficile, et il a fallu un travail important (que des camarades ont mené tout au long de l’année) pour éviter une orientation pro-punitive, et amener une vision globale sur les conséquences de ces orientations en termes de rapports sociaux de race, et plus largement de répression. Mais c’est une position qui est extrêmement ambivalente et compliquée à trouver et défendre, entre d’un côté dire que les violences de genre sont un sujet politique fondamental (et qu’on ne va pas s’en occuper « après » pour le dire vite), mais de l’autre, se demander comment on peut y répondre sans converger avec l’appareil répressif d’Etat. Il y a donc eu tout un travail : déjà, sur le moment même, et avec les relectures et amendements successifs du Manifeste. Plus largement, et dans un deuxième temps, on a organisé avec SolidaritéS [3] une journée d’étude qui a réuni des personnes actives dans les organisations qui luttent concrètement contre les violences de genre, pour essayer d’élaborer des pistes d’actions anti-punitives, mais concrètes et ancrées dans notre réalité. Il y avait beaucoup de personnes impliquées dans l’organisation de la grève, et l’idée était de revenir ensuite dans les différents collectifs et mettre ça en avant. Au final, quand on regarde le Manifeste maintenant, on remarque que ce travail collectif (qui prend différentes formes) a porté ses fruits.

      – PEM : Du coup, est-ce que vous diriez que le Manifeste, rédigé en août dernier, rend bien compte de la pluralité des composantes du mouvement tel qu’il est aujourd’hui ?

      M : Le mouvement s’est organisé en mixité choisie, sans hommes cisgenres. Pour la composante sociale, dans les collectifs que je connais, principalement en Suisse romande, on compte majoritairement des femmes* déjà militantes, peu de femmes non blanches, par contre plutôt très intergénérationnelle. Néanmoins, quelques femmes ayant un parcours migratoire ont été très actives, ce qui a permis d’amener des revendications concrètes et précises sur les questions d’asile et d’accueil. L’exemple qu’a donné Anouk, et il y en aurait d’autres, montre bien qu’en tant que minorités dans la minorité, c’est très dur de réussir à mettre en avant ses revendications s’il n’y a pas un vrai travail d’organisation en interne. On l’a notamment vu pour les questions LBTIQ, où finalement des revendications spécifiques n’ont pas été visibilisées et ce alors qu’en Suisse on serait dans un contexte assez propice à la mise en avant de revendications par exemple liées à la parentalité, aux parcours trans* ou encore d’égalité juridique. De ce que j’ai perçu, en tout cas en Romandie, il nous a été difficile de nous organiser entre nous pour faire émerger ces revendications. Par contre, le travail fait par les femmes migrantes et leurs alliées ont réussi à imposer des revendications puissantes sur cette question, autant dans le manifeste que dans l’organisation collective. Ces questions, par exemple le fait de ne pas avoir de permis de séjour ou juste un permis provisoire en tant que travailleuse – en lien avec tout le travail syndical qui est mené sur ce front depuis des années - sont bien comprises et intégrées. Par contre, on n’a pas constaté la même chose sur les questions de race. Pour être bien claire, quand on parle de femmes migrantes en Suisse, on parle de femmes qui viennent du troisième cercle (le Sud global) comme on dit, mais aussi d’Europe du Sud.

      A : C’est vrai qu’il y a eu un travail politique pour orienter ces revendications dans un sens émancipateur pour tout le monde. Donc le Manifeste n’est bien sûr pas parfait, mais c’est le fruit d’un travail politique de longue haleine, parfois éreintant, mené par un grand nombre de personnes. Au début, il y avait carrément des propositions islamophobes, ou abolitionnistes (du travail du sexe)… Le fait que ce genre de choses ne soient pas passées (même si le Manifeste n’est pas explicite sur ces questions), c’est aussi le fruit d’un travail. Ça permet de le garder ouvert à une organisation politique sur les rapports coloniaux, sur le travail du sexe, etc.

      M : Sur ces questions, on constate qu’il y avait cette peur au début, comme dans tout mouvement unitaire : « que vont faire les femmes qui ne sont pas organisées à gauche, et comment elles vont pouvoir adhérer à ce manifeste ? ». Finalement, on se rend compte que plus il y a de revendications, plus elles sont larges, plus elles sont radicales, et - c’est assez contre-intuitif - plus elles sont rassembleuses. En fait, ça a permis de créer un mouvement ultra large. La question des “femmes de droites” - doit-on les intégrer,, comment leur parler, est-ce qu’on les effraient ou pas - a souvent été posé, surtout au début dans les collectifs locaux. Je me souviens très clairement d’une femme qui disait « si les femmes de droite se reconnaissent dans le manifeste, elles viendront, et sinon tant pis ». Il faut juste imaginer que lors de l’appel de la première coordination nationale à Bienne, il devait y avoir 500 à 600 personnes, qui sont des personnes qui organisent activement cette grève.

      –PEM : Pourquoi est-il important de faire grève pour faire valoir ces raisons ?

      M : Il y a un truc que je trouve intéressant dans le droit suisse, la grève est considérée comme l’ultima ratio. Donc c’est le dernier outil que les travailleurs et travailleuses mettent en place pour obtenir leurs revendications, après que tout a échoué. Là, ça fait 38 ans qu’on a une égalité dans la constitution qui n’est pas appliquée, et tout part quand même de là ! On peut se dire que c’est très réformiste et partiel, mais littéralement, ça veut dire qu’en Suisse, il y a aucune possibilité de sanction ni de contrainte pour vraiment combattre l’égalité salariale même dans son sens le plus strict. Tu peux faire reconnaître - mais c’est très compliqué – que tu n’es pas payée la même chose que ton collègue masculin et toucher le différentiel ainsi qu’une indemnité représentant six mois de salaire et c’est la seule sanction que tu auras en tant qu’employeur. En gros, une mise en conformité plus une petite amende. De plus, ce n’est pas soumis à un contrôle régulier, sauf pour les entreprises de plus de 100 employé-e-s, ce qui représente environ 2% des employeurs en Suisse. On en est là. Donc c’est pour ça que c’est important de faire grève, c’est pour montrer qu’on en a marre du système suisse de la négociation et de la « paix du travail » et que oui, en tant que femmes ont a tout essayé mais que là ça suffit et que donc on utilise l’outil de l’ultima ratio.

      A : Pour moi, cette grève a permis de montrer, dans ce système suisse, qui est officiellement « pacifié » et qui jure que par cette fameuse « paix du travail », que la conflictualité sociale, elle existe ; que les antagonismes de classe, ils existent. La conflictualité, c’est pas nous qui l’inventons, elle est réelle. Du coup, l’analyse qu’on fait en étant marxistes et féministes, c’est de lier les raisons larges pour lesquelles on fait grève (qui ne concernent pas uniquement les inégalités dans le travail salarié), à ce mode de production particulier. Donc une fois qu’on a dit ça, notre mode d’action doit rendre compte de ça.

      M : Sur la question de la grève, ça a pas été sans tension, vraiment ! Évidemment, faire grève en Suisse en 2019, c’est aussi le rappel de la grève de 1991 [4], qui a été un des plus beaux moments de luttes en Suisse. C’est aussi le rappel de ces femmes qui se sont battues en 1971 pour obtenir le droit de vote [5]. Il y a des femmes qui ont fait grève en 1991, et nous en 2019, on lutte aussi !

      A : Il faut préciser que cette grève s’inscrit dans un renouveau de perspectives de luttes de la gauche politique et syndicale. Il faut rappeler brièvement que le système suisse permet de s’opposer à des projets du parlement (et d’en proposer) en récoltant un certain nombre de signatures. Les initiatives ou référendum sont ensuite soumises au vote de la population suisse. Je précise, car j’ai vu beaucoup de discussions sur ce système de démocratie semi-directe en France, en lien avec la revendication du RIC défendues par certain·es Gilets Jaunes. Or, un élément pour moi central est à chaque fois laissé de côté : le système suisse est fondé sur l’exclusion politique d’une partie importante (environ un cinquième) de la population et des classes populaires, à savoir la population “d’origine étrangère”. En effet, les droits politiques sont conditionnés à la possession de la nationalité suisse, qui est extrêmement difficile à obtenir. En l’espace d’un an, la gauche politique est parvenue à faire refuser un projet d’augmenter l’âge de la retraite des femmes (appelé PV2020), et une autre loi (appelée RIE3) sur la défiscalisation massive du capital des multinationales implantées en Suisse (ce qui représente un transfert massif de richesses des collectivités publiques, notamment du Sud global, vers les actionnaires de Nestlé, Glencore, etc.). J’ai l’impression que ça a vraiment créé une dynamique de gauche qui est de nouveau capable d’arracher des grandes victoires. En même temps, on a lancé tout récemment un référendum contre la soeur jumelle de la RIE3 , donc contre une loi qui prévoyait exactement les mêmes dispositifs fiscaux ; on a fait aboutir le référendum, mais on l’a perdu en votation car la réforme a été massivement approuvée. Et on a certes refusé l’augmentation de l’âge de la retraite des femmes, mais il y a déjà un projet au Parlement pour l’augmenter à nouveau. Cette question des initiatives et référendums constitue un grand débat au sein de nos organisations, et pour ma part, je ne crois pas qu’il faille rejeter une lutte institutionnelle par référendum en bloc, parce que comme on l’a vu, ça permet de lancer des dynamiques d’opposition substantielle. Par contre, sur la base de cette séquence politique, on voit que si on les considère comme une fin en soi, on n’a pas fini de s’opposer aux mêmes projets de loi, et on passe notre temps à récolter des signatures.

      M : Oui, au bout d’un moment, à ce jeu, ils gagnent en fait ! C’est d’ailleurs pour ça qu’il y a ce dessin qui tourne et qui montre une femme avec une batte de base-ball disant “j’ai décidé de changer de méthode”.

      – PEM : Quelles autres expériences de lutte à l’échelle globale ou dans l’histoire suisse sont importantes pour vous ?

      M : La grève générale de 1918 ! Parce que j’ai découvert cette grève il y a un an et demi au moment du centenaire, et parce que l’organisation des syndicats au niveau national, l’USS (Union syndicale suisse) qui a organisé une super journée de conférence [rires] avec des historien·nes où, littéralement, leur conclusion c’était que c’était pas si bien parce qu’au final, on n’a rien gagné. C’est les syndicats qui disent ça ! Ça m’a donné envie de creuser, j’ai découvert plein de trucs, notamment que c’était pas tant un échec que ça, et je pense que ça montre aussi à quel point en Suisse, on ne connaît pas l’histoire des luttes.

      A : Au centre des revendications de la grève générale de 1918, il y avait celle du droit de vote des femmes ! Cette revendication dont on dit souvent qu’elle apparaît beaucoup plus tard, a été portée par le mouvement ouvrier dès 1918. Face aux frappadingues pour qui la grève féministe divise la classe ouvrière – ce qui est une analyse complètement hors sol quand on voit le développement massif de collectifs sur les lieux de travail – on se rend compte que dès le début, il y a un lien organique entre les luttes féministes et le mouvement ouvrier, simplement parce que les femmes font partie du mouvement ouvrier ! Après personnellement, l’histoire des luttes des travailleurs immigrés, et notamment italiens est importante politiquement pour moi.

      M : Ce qui est terrible, c’est qu’on est hyper à la ramasse et qu’on ne connaît presque pas notre histoire, parce qu’on a vraiment un roman national très fort : en Suisse, on dit qu’on est riche parce qu’on sait faire des compromis, que les valeurs paysannes et protestantes sont celles qui assurent notre prospérité et qu’on obtient jamais rien par la force. Par exemple, sur l’obtention du droit de vote des femmes en 1971, ce que tout le monde croit, c’est que le gentil parlement a décidé d’autoriser les femmes à voter parce que c’était quand même un peu la honte d’avoir attendu si longtemps. Or j’ai appris cette année, en creusant un peu, qu’il y avait eu une énorme mobilisation populaire, notamment des femmes autour de cette question.

      – PEM : Les institutions semblent réagir de manière plutôt bienveillante voire encourager certaines initiatives qui vont se tenir à l’occasion du 14 Juin : comment expliquez-vous cette bienveillance (paternaliste ?), et comment, dans ce contexte, garantir une certaine offensivité lors de cette journée de grève ?

      M : On constate effectivement une offensive massive du Parti socialiste (gauche gouvernementale) et des directions syndicales pour essayer de récupérer et pacifier cette grève en en retirant les aspects les plus combatifs. En même temps, c’est vrai qu’en Suisse , où qu’on soit sur l’échiquier politique il devient compliqué de dire qu’on est contre l’égalité. Les solutions choisies, comme dans beaucoup d’autres endroits, c’est de dire qu’on utilise pas la bonne méthode ou que l’on a mal compris l’égalité. On l’a vu syndicalement avec la réaction des employeurs. D’abord, il y a eu une offensive pour dire que cette grève n’était pas licite. Puis, sous la pression des collectifs, les employeurs du publics - sur Genève et sur Vaud, en tout cas - ont fini par dire qu’il n’y aurait pas de sanction pour cette grève, tout en sous-entendant que ça en était pas vraiment une. Une conseillère d’état PLR [6] à Genève a même affirmé que le mot grève n’avait qu’une valeur historique, et qu’en réalité il s’agissait d’une grande fête. On passe évidemment notre temps à rappeler que nous avons des revendications de ruptures et que oui c’est bien une grève. Le problème c’est qu’on n’est pas toujours entendu, face au discours dominant, notamment des médias. C’est ce qui permet à des meufs de l’exécutif ou de droite de participer aux mobilisations, qu’elles essaient de vider de leur sens...

      A : Oui, mais en même temps, elles vont marcher derrière des syndicalistes et des féministes qui revendiquent la réduction générale du temps de travail, et qui refusent catégoriquement l’augmentation de l’âge de la retraite des femmes ! D’une certaine manière, c’est bon signe, ça veut dire que les collectifs ont réussi à imposer un rapport de force qui fait que les autorités se sentent obligées d’y participer. Surtout, les dynamiques d’organisation que cette grève a impulsées sur les lieux de travail, de vie et de formation, c’est pas quelque chose qui est “récupérable”. Pour moi c’est ça le plus important : le 14 juin n’est pas une fin en soi, c’est un but qui permet à des collectifs d’essaimer un peu partout, et de développer ou renforcer notre organisation collective.

      M : Ce qui est complètement dingue avec cette grève, c’est que malgré la radicalité du Manifeste (et même grâce à cette radicalité), des dizaines de milliers de femmes vont se mobiliser ce 14 juin. Ça permet de contrer cette idée très répandue, selon laquelle il faudrait pas être trop radicale, ou faire trop de bruit, pour pouvoir mobiliser largement. Or ce qu’on a constaté c’est qu’en permettant aux femmes de s’exprimer et en ancrant les revendications dans une réalité, ça marche, et c’est énorme !❞

    • Un « ras-le-bol général » : vendredi, c’est la grève des femmes en Suisse

      Vingt-huit ans après une première mobilisation nationale, syndicats et collectifs féministes appellent à la mobilisation pour mettre fin aux inégalités femmes/hommes.

      Le reste du monde a le 8 mars. La Suisse a son 14 juin. Vendredi 14 juin 2019, collectifs féministes et syndicats organisent une « grève des femmes », pour l’égalité avec les hommes, 28 ans après la première du nom, en 1991.

      Une grève que les organisateurs espèrent nationale et globale. « Il ne s’agit pas seulement d’une grève du travail rémunéré, explique au Parisien Anne Fritz, coordinatrice de la mobilisation à l’Union syndicale suisse, à l’origine de la mobilisation. Il y aura aussi une grève du ménage, du prendre soin, de la consommation… » De toutes ses tâches, encore majoritairement effectuée au quotidien par des femmes, peu reconnues et non rémunérées.
      Une date symbolique

      Un mot d’ordre, l’égalité, et plusieurs déclinaisons : égalité des salaires, fin des violences sexistes, fin de la précarité des femmes… Plusieurs manifestations seront organisées ce jour-là, dans tout le pays. « Le plus important, c’est que chaque femme puisse participer à son niveau, là où elle est », poursuit Anne Fritz.

      La date du 14 juin est hautement symbolique en Suisse. En 1981, était introduit dans la Constitution un article concernant l’égalité entre les femmes et les hommes. Dix ans plus tard, près de 500 000 personnes - pour un pays de 3,46 millions d’habitants - se mobilisaient pour dénoncer les inégalités toujours persistantes.

      Près de trois décennies plus tard, les femmes continuent de toucher 20 % de moins que les hommes, il n’existe pas de congé paternité et les places en crèche sont rares et chères, freinant la participation des femmes à la vie active.

      L’année dernière, une loi sur l’égalité salariale a été votée dans le pays. Mais la version adoptée en définitive était nettement édulcorée, par rapport au texte initial. La dernière version ne prévoit pas, par exemple, de sanction pour les entreprises discriminantes.
      Le patronat suisse grince des dents

      Un sentiment de trop peu, qui fait germer l’idée d’une nouvelle grève, à l’image de celle de 1991, dans les milieux féministes, et au sein de l’Union syndicale suisse. Le mouvement #MeToo, ainsi que diverses mobilisations internationales, pour défendre l’avortement ou critiquer certains dirigeants comme le président américain Donald Trump ou Jair Bolsonaro, le président brésilien, sont aussi passés par là.

      Pour Anne Fritz, c’est un « ras-le-bol général des femmes » qui a permis de concrétiser cette grève anniversaire. Elle est née en cette année symbolique de 1991. Aujourd’hui, elle estime que les femmes ne sont « pas entendues en manifestation. C’est la raison pour laquelle il faut faire grève ».

      Plusieurs entreprises et administrations ont affiché leur soutien à cette grève des femmes. À Genève par exemple, la ville fermera des crèches. Mais l’Union patronale essaie de contrer le mouvement. Le syndicat le considère comme « illicite », car ne visant « pas uniquement les conditions de travail », selon les propos Marco Taddei, un de ses représentants, à l’AFP.

      Difficile de prévoir l’ampleur du mouvement de vendredi, la grève ne faisant pas partie de la culture suisse. Depuis l’instauration en 1937 de la « paix du travail », une convention signée entre patronats et syndicats, la négociation est souvent préférée à la grève. Anne Fritz espère « énormément » de personnes. Ou au moins autant qu’en 1991.

    • Les guettes ont appelé Lausanne à une nuit mauve

      Du haut de la cathédrale, quatre femmes ont lancé la mobilisation du 14 juin. Un cri inédit, relayé une bonne partie de la nuit avant la grande journée de vendredi.

      l faut « garder le dos bien droit, mettre les mains en porte-voix et s’adresser à Lausanne ». Un rapide conseil, glissé par Renato Häusler, guet de la cathédrale de Lausanne, à celles qui s’apprêtent à prendre sa place. Pour la première fois depuis 614 ans, la voix d’une femme va donner l’heure à la ville. A 23 heures, ce jeudi 13 juin en guise d’échauffement, puis à minuit, 1 heure et 2 heures, avec en prime un appel à la grève des femmes, à la grève féministe.

      C’est ainsi qu’à minuit, Nadia Lamamra, représentante du collectif vaudois pour la grève, Nicole Christe, cheffe du Service de l’architecture de la Ville de Lausanne, Joëlle Moret, déléguée à l’égalité et la chanteuse Billie Bird crient de concert « C’est la grève, c’est la grève ! ». Et après un bref silence, les acclamations montent de l’esplanade où plusieurs centaines de personnes affluent depuis 22 heures. « Il y a enfin un peu de reconnaissance, même dans les professions très atypiques les bastions masculins finissent par tomber », apprécient les guettes en chœur. La grève nationale du 14 juin est lancée à Lausanne, la cathédrale peut s’enflammer et briller en mauve dans la nuit.

      « C’était un moment fou, j’en ai eu des frissons. Il y avait un grand silence, on entendait juste les tambours, il y avait quelque chose de mystique et, tout à coup, tout le monde a hurlé. J’ai failli pleurer », raconte Anne-Julie.

      Au pied de la cathédrale, en continu, il y a les banderoles et les pancartes, les danses et les accolades, les chants et les slogans comme autant de cris du cœur. Entres autres : « Fortes, fières et pas prêtes de se taire » ou « Patriarcat t’es foutu, les femmes sont dans la rue ». « Ça me rend euphorique cet engouement, j’espère que ce sera le début d’un vrai mouvement. Il faut que les gens comprennent ce que l’on vit, commente Charlotte. Je pense aussi à celles qui ont de grandes difficultés, les travailleuses pauvres, les mères isolées ou celles qui ne peuvent pas être là parce qu’elles sont empêchées par quelque chose ou quelqu’un. »

      Puis comme la cathédrale, la place de la Riponne s’embrase. Autour d’un feu de camp, la foule donne de la voix tandis que quelques objets volent au milieu des flammes. Du carton, un tee-shirt ou un soutien-gorge, avalés par les flammes sous les applaudissements. « Symboliquement c’est déjà très fort ce que l’on voit ce soir, observe Yesmine. J’ai vécu près de la cathédrale et tous les jours j’ai entendu un homme crier. Alors aujourd’hui c’est beaucoup d’émotions, quelque chose se concrétise. »

      Beaucoup d’émotions et pas mal d’actions, au moment de se disperser dans la ville aux alentours d’1h30. Un peu partout, l’eau des fontaines devient violette, comme la cheminée de Pierre-de-Plan. Les stickers militants fleurissent sur les murs et 56 rues sont même rebaptisées. C’est l’oeuvre du collectif ruElles, parti arpenter la ville toute la nuit avec de la colle et de faux panneaux en papier. « Une soixantaine de rues lausannoises portent le nom de personnes illustres ayant marqué l’histoire suisse. Trois d’entre elles seulement sont des femmes, explique les membres. Ce soir, les femmes sortent de l’ombre de l’Histoire et vont dans les rues. » Elles feront de même ce vendredi 14 juin, dès 8 heures et pour toute la journée.

    • Toutes les femmes du Courrier…

      … se joignent aux revendications de la grève féministe / grève des femmes*. Toutes, nous croiserons les bras en ce vendredi 14 juin, vingt-huit ans après la journée historique qui avait vu 500 000 femmes s’unir à travers toute la Suisse pour exiger, enfin, l’égalité dans les faits.

      Car nous observons chaque jour l’ampleur du fossé qui nous sépare de l’égalité. Aujourd’hui comme hier, nous exigeons une meilleure reconnaissance de toutes les tâches que nous exécutons au quotidien ainsi que le respect de notre personne et de notre individualité. Par notre refus de travailler ou d’exécuter des travaux domestiques durant vingt-quatre heures, nous posons nos limites. 91-19… Et cette impression de tourner en rond.

      C’est ce que ressentent aussi les femmes du Courrier, qui se sont réunies pour énoncer leurs doléances. Notre cahier de revendications en cinq axes complète celles du manifeste de la grève et, surtout, rejoint l’expérience d’innombrables femmes, par-delà la branche économique du journalisme. Les problèmes soulevés touchent des facettes très différentes de nos vies et, pourtant, s’imbriquent pour former un continuum sexiste.

      Nous demandons la valorisation du travail des femmes. Comme tant de pairs, nous portons une immense partie de la charge émotionnelle au travail. Est attendu de nous que nous soyons patientes, à l’écoute, gestionnaires du quotidien. Quand on se tournera vers les hommes pour ce qui relève de compétences jugées plus techniques et mesurables. Invisibilisé, notre travail est pourtant essentiel à la bonne marche de toute entreprise.

      Nous attendons que notre parole soit écoutée, notre légitimité reconnue comme celle de nos collègues masculins.

      Nous voulons concilier vie privée et professionnelle sans nous épuiser dans de doubles journées, que nous soyons mères ou proches-aidantes. Cela passe par le respect de notre temps de repos, des congés (parentaux notamment) suffisants et la possibilité d’aménager notre temps de travail selon nos besoins. Il n’existe pas de recette magique applicable à toutes. Et nous méritons d’être considérées au-delà des stéréotypes de genre.

      Nous exigeons la parité à tous les niveaux de l’entreprise, de la base aux instances dirigeantes.

      Enfin, la lutte contre le sexisme doit s’appliquer à chacune de nos pages. Elle passe par la généralisation du langage épicène, des images non stéréotypées, des formulations s’abstenant de ramener les femmes à leur seul statut de mère, de fille ou d’épouse, sans cliché machiste.

      Le chantier ne fait que commencer. Et nous aurons toutes et tous à gagner de ce monde plus égalitaire. Solidaires, les hommes du Courrier nous soutiennent d’ailleurs dans notre lutte. Nous leur confions, l’espace d’une journée, la tâche de confectionner un journal spécial dédié à la grève, qui paraîtra samedi. Cette édition ancrera la date du 14 juin 2019 dans les mémoires. Pour qu’elle ne devienne pas une date anniversaire, mais une date charnière, le marqueur d’un changement de société dans toute sa profondeur.

    • Swiss women strike for more money, time and respect

      Women across Switzerland are preparing for a nationwide strike in protest against what they say is the country’s unacceptably slow pace to equality.

      Friday’s protest comes 28 years after similar action saw half a million women take to the streets in 1991.

      Swiss women have long campaigned to accelerate the pace of gender equality.

      They joined millions of other women in Europe after World War One ended in 1918 in demanding the right to vote - but did not get it until 1971.

      At the time of the 1991 strike there were no women in the Swiss government, and there was no statutory maternity leave.

      Appenzell, the last Swiss canton to refuse women the right to vote, had just been ordered to change its policy by Switzerland’s Supreme Court.

    • Les journaux romands se mettent au violet

      Que ce soit sur un mode humoristique, ironique ou sérieux, la presse romande relate largement la grève des femmes vendredi.

      Les quotidiens romands parlent abondamment de la grève des femmes dans leurs éditions de vendredi. La plupart se sont parés de violet, la couleur du mouvement.

      « Suissesses en colère », écrit « 24 heures » en une. Le quotidien vaudois illustre sa première page avec le dessin d’une femme en violet sur fond jaune, poing dressé en l’air. Plus sobre, la « Tribune de Genève » titre « Une journée de grève pour exiger l’égalité » avec la photo de manifestantes vêtues en violet.

      « 20 Minutes » titre « Hall of femmes » en référence à l’expression anglophone « Hall of fame », temple de la renommée en français. Du côté de Neuchâtel, « Arcinfo » propose la photo d’une foule de femmes en première page avec le titre « Respect ».

      Le « Journal du Jura » opte lui pour un dessin de presse humoristique, montrant une mère en train d’accoucher à 15h24, heure symbolique à laquelle les femmes ne sont plus payées par rapport aux hommes. « L’étoffe des héroïnes » lance quant à lui le « Quotidien jurassien ».

      Un dessin orne également la une de « La Liberté », celui d’une femme en gants de boxe. « Pour que la lutte porte ses fruits », titre le journal fribourgeois. « Grève féministe Jour G », renchérit Le Courrier, qui a abandonné sa traditionnelle couleur rouge pour le violet.

      « Le Temps » montre un dessin où plusieurs hommes sont représentés, mais aucune femme. « Un genre vous manque, et tout un journal est dépeuplé », titre le quotidien. Son édition de vendredi est parsemée de cases blanches, là où une journaliste devait écrire un article.

    • En Suisse, les femmes appelées à la grève pour dénoncer les inégalités

      Les organisateurs souhaitent mettre en lumière les différences salariales, mais aussi insister sur la reconnaissance du travail domestique et dénoncer les violences contre les femmes.

    • Why Swiss women are back on strike today

      On June 14, 1991, half a million women in Switzerland joined the first women’s strike. Now, nearly 30 years later, they’re mobilising again.

      Many people in Switzerland were taken by surprise on that spring day in 1991. The idea came from a small group of women watchmakers in the Vaud and Jura regions. Organised by trade unionist Christiane Brunner, it became one of the biggest political demonstrations in Swiss history.

      About 500,000 women throughout the country joined in the women’s strike through various types of actions. They called for equal pay for equal work, equality under social insurance law, and for the end of discrimination and sexual harassment.
      Why 1991?

      The choice of date was not arbitrary: on June 14 a decade prior, Swiss voters had approved a new article in the constitution on equality of the sexesexternal link. But the principle laid down in the constitution had not been translated into concrete legislation. The gap between men’s and women’s pay was still glaring.

      The 1991 strike was also intended to mark the 20th anniversary of women getting the vote at the federal level, a goal achieved very late in Switzerland compared to all other countries in Europe and most of the world.
      Why a strike?

      The idea of presenting the mobilisation of 1991 as a strike at first struggled to find acceptance. “At the outset, the Swiss trade union congress was not enthusiastic,” recalls historian Elisabeth Joris, who specialises in women’s and gender history in Switzerland. “The word was going round: ‘This is a day of action, not a strike’, because the very notion of a strike was linked to paid work, while women worked in very varied settings and often not for a paycheque.”

      On the other hand, talking in terms of a strike took on a highly political significance. “Every social movement takes place in a historical context, it is linked to other events,” notes Joris. Declaring a nationwide political strike meant appealing to the precedent of the other great nationwide political strike in Swiss history: the general strike of 1918, which included women’s suffrage among its demands, and in which women played an important role.

      “Women were borrowing a tradition from the workers’ movement, but gave it a wider meaning, transforming and adapting it to the needs of the feminist movement,” explains Joris. The idea of a women’s strike was not new, either. In 1975 there was such a strike in Iceland, to mark International Women’s Year. Even the choice of March 8 as International Women’s Day commemorates the strike by New York garment workers in 1909 and 1910.

      A different kind of strike

      The 1991 strike movement had many obstacles to overcome. In the economic and political world, there was much opposition. At the time, Senate President Max Affolter urged women not to get involved in it and risk “forfeiting men’s goodwill towards their aspirations”.

      On the other hand, the varied working environment of women, often outside the realm of paid work, did not lend itself to traditional forms of mobilisation. “The 1991 women’s strike involved a wide range of actions,” points out Elisabeth Joris. “This was able to happen because the strike was organised on a decentralised basis, unlike traditional strikes.”
      Snowballs for politicians

      Even if its historical significance was not recognised at the outset, the 1991 strike had a decisive impact on progress regarding equality of the sexes and the struggle against discrimination in Switzerland. The newfound strength of the women’s movement showed itself in 1993, when the right-wing majority in parliament declined to elect the Social Democratic Party candidate Christiane Brunner to a seat in the Federal Council, preferring a man.

      “The majority in parliament thought it could do the same thing it had done ten years before with Lilian Uchtenhagen [another Social Democrat who failed to win the election]”, notes Joris. “But Christiane Brunner was the women’s strike. The reaction was immediate. A few hours later, the square in front of parliament was full of demonstrators. Some parliamentarians found themselves pelted with snowballs.”

      Francis Matthey, the candidate elected to the Swiss executive branch, came under such pressure from his own party as well as demonstrators that he felt obliged to resign. A week later Ruth Dreifuss was elected in his place. “Since that time, the idea of there being no women in cabinet is just not acceptable.”

      In 1996, legislation was brought in to ensure the equality of the sexes, which had been one of the demands of the strike. In 2002, Swiss voters approved legislation legalising abortion. In 2004, the article in the constitution on maternity leave, which had been in the constitution since 1945, was finally implemented in a piece of enabling legislation.
      ‘A new generation that favours feminism’

      And yet, in spite of the victories of the women’s movement, equality remains a burning issue. Pay gaps between women and men remain considerable. The #metoo movement has brought to the fore – like never before – the issue of sexual harassment and discrimination based on a person’s gender or sexual orientation.

      “Already around the 20th anniversary there was talk of another women’s strike, but the idea didn’t take hold,” notes Elisabeth Joris. “To succeed, a movement needs an emotional energy to it. This energy has now accumulated. There is a huge generation of young women in their 20s and 30s that favours feminism.”

      “In 2019, we are still looking for equality, and realise that there has to be a lot more than this – the culture of sexism is part of everyday life in Switzerland, it’s invisible, and we are so used to getting along that we hardly notice it is there,” says Clara Almeida Lozar, 20, who belongs to the collective organising the women’s strike at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology Lausanne.

  • U.S. is using unreliable dental exams to hold teen migrants in adult detention

    The young Bangladeshi sitting in the dentist’s chair last October thought he was getting checked for diseases.

    Dental staff examined his teeth, gave him a cleaning and sent him back to the juvenile facility where he had been held for months since illegally crossing the border in July.

    But a checkup wasn’t the real purpose of the dental work. The government wanted to figure out if “I.J.,” as the young migrant has been identified, really was 16, as he said, or an adult.

    The use of dental exams to help determine the age of migrants increased sharply in the last year, one aspect of the Trump administration’s crackdown on immigration and illegal border crossings.

    The accuracy of forensic testing to help determine the age of migrants is very much a subject of the debate. And with the stakes so high, the exams are becoming another legal battleground for the government.

    Federal law prohibits the government from relying exclusively on forensic testing of bones and teeth to determine age. But a review of court records shows that in at least three cases – including I.J.’s – the government did just that, causing federal judges to later order the minors released from adult detention.

    In a case last year, a Guatemalan migrant was held in adult detention for nearly a year after a dental exam showed he was likely 18, until his attorneys fought to get his birth certificate, which proved he was 17.

    For I.J., the results had serious ramifications. Based on the development of his teeth, the analysis showed an 87.70% probability that he had turned 18.

    An immigration official reported that it was apparent to the case manager that I.J. “appeared physically older than 17 years of age,” and that he and his mother had not been able to provide a second type of identification that might prove his age.

    The next month, Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents took him away in shackles and placed him in a medium-security prison that houses immigrant detainees.

    He spent about five months in adult detention and 24 of those days in segregated custody. Whenever he spoke with an officer, he would say he was a minor — unaware for more than a month that his teeth had landed him there.

    “I came to the United States with a big dream,” I.J. said. “My dream was finished.”

    But when the Arizona-based Florence Immigrant and Refugee Rights Project took I.J.’s case to federal court, a district judge found that the Office of Refugee Resettlement’s age re-determination violated federal law and the agency’s own guidelines.

    In April, the judge ordered I.J. released back into Office of Refugee Resettlement custody, a program responsible for unaccompanied migrant children. He has since reunited with his family in New York. The Florence Project also filed another case in federal court that resulted in the government voluntarily returning a Bangladeshi minor to ORR custody and rescinding his age re-determination.

    As the government grappled with an influx of the number of families and children arriving at the border in fiscal year 2018, approvals of ORR age determination exams more than doubled.

    These handful of cases where a minor was released from adult detention is almost certainly an undercount, as most migrants held in adult detention do not have legal representation and are unlikely to fight their cases.

    It is unclear how often migrants pretend to be minors and turn out to be adults. In a call with reporters earlier this year, a Customs and Border Protection official said that from April 2018 to March 25 of this year, his agents had identified more than 3,100 individuals in family units making fraudulent claims, including those who misrepresented themselves as minors.

    Unaccompanied minors are given greater protections than adults after being apprehended. The government’s standard refers migrants to adult custody if a dental exam analysis shows at least a 75% probability that they are 18 or older. But other evidence is supposed to be considered.

    Dr. David Senn, the director of the Center for Education and Research in Forensics at UT Health San Antonio, has handled more than 2,000 age cases since 1998.

    A program that Senn helped develop estimates the mean age of a person and the probability that he or she is at least 18. In addition to looking at dental X-rays, he has also looked at skeletal X-rays and analyzed bone development in the hand and wrist area.

    He handled a larger number of cases in the early 2000s, but last year he saw his caseload triple — rising to 168. There appears to be a slowdown this calendar year for Senn, one of a few dentists the government uses for these analyses.

    He said making an exact age determination is not possible.

    “We can only tell you what the statistics say,” Senn said. “I think the really important thing to note is that most people who do this work are not trying to be policemen or to be Border Patrol agents or immigration …. what we’re trying to do is help. What we’re trying to do is protect children.”

    In 2007 and again in 2008, the House Appropriations Committee called on the Department of Homeland Security to stop relying on forensic testing of bones and teeth. But it was the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act of 2008 that declared age determinations should take into account “multiple forms of evidence, including the non-exclusive use of radiographs.”

    In a Washington state case, an X-ray analysis by Senn showed a 92.55% probability that Bilal, a Somali migrant, already had reached 18 years of age. ICE removed him from his foster home and held him in an adult detention center.

    “Not only were they trying to save themselves money, which they paid to the foster family, but they were wrecking this kid’s life,” said Matt Adams, legal director for the Northwest Immigrant Rights Project, which represented Bilal. “They were just rolling the dice.”

    In 2016, a federal judge found that the Office of Refugee Resettlement relied exclusively on the dental exam and overturned the age determination for the young Somali.

    Last year, in the case of an Eritrean migrant who said he was 17, Senn’s analysis of dental X-rays showed a 92.55% probability that he had turned 18, and provided a range of possible ages between 17.10 and 23.70.

    It was enough to prompt his removal from a juvenile facility and placement into an adult one.

    Again, a district judge found that the government had relied exclusively on the dental exam to determine his age and ordered the migrant released back into ORR custody.

    Danielle Bennett, an ICE spokeswoman, said the agency “does not track” information on such reversals.

    “We should never be used as the only method to determine age,” Senn said. “If those agencies are not following their own rules, they should have their feet held to the fire.”

    Similar concerns over medical age assessments have sprung up in other countries, including the United Kingdom and Sweden.

    The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’ guidance about how adolescent migrants’ ages should be analyzed says that if countries use scientific procedures to determine age, that they should allow for margins of error. Michael Bochenek, an attorney specializing in children’s rights at Human Rights Watch, said that for adolescents, the margin of error in scientific tests is “so big that it doesn’t tell you anything.”

    An influx of Bangladeshi migrants claiming to be minors has contributed to the government’s recent use of dental exams. From October through March 8, more than 150 Bangladeshis who claimed to be minors and were determined to be adults were transferred from the Office of Refugee Resettlement to ICE custody, according to the agency.

    In fiscal year 2018, Border Patrol apprehensions of Bangladeshi migrants went up 109% over the year before, rising to 1,203. Similarly, the number of Bangladeshi minors in ORR custody increased about 221% between fiscal 2017 and fiscal 2018, reaching 392.

    Ali Riaz, a professor at Illinois State University, said Bangladeshis are leaving the country for reasons including high population density, high unemployment among the young, a deteriorating political environment and the “quest for a better life.”

    In October, Myriam Hillin, an ORR federal field specialist, was told that ICE had information showing that a number of Bangladeshi migrants in their custody claiming to be underage had passports with different birth dates than on their birth certificates.

    Bochenek said it’s common for migrant children to travel with fake passports that make them appear older, because in some countries minors are more likely to be intercepted or questioned by immigration agents.

    While I.J. was able to regain status as a minor, three Bangladeshi migrants who crossed the U.S.-Mexico border illegally in the San Diego area in October 2018 are still trying to convince the government they are underage.

    Their passports didn’t match their birth certificates. Dental exams ordered by immigration officials found that each of them had about an 89% likelihood of being adults.

    “Both subjects were adamant that the passports were given to them by the ‘agent’ (smuggler), however, there is little reason to lie to any of the countries they flew into,” wrote one Border Patrol agent, describing the arrest of two of the migrants. “Also, it is extremely difficult to fake a passport, especially for no reason. I have seen [unaccompanied children] fly into each of the countries (except for Panama and Costa Rica) and pass through with no problem. This is a recent trend with Bangladeshis. They do it in order to be released from DHS custody faster.”

    During interviews, the young migrants, Shahadat, Shahriar and Tareq, told asylum officers that smugglers had given them the passports, according to records from the interviews.

    When asked why they had been given those birth dates, they said it had something to do with smugglers’ plans for their travel.

    “I don’t have that much idea,” Shahadat told an asylum officer, according to the officer’s notes in a summary-style transcript. “When I asked why, they told me that if I don’t give this [date of birth] there will be problems with travel.”

    Shahriar told the officer that the smuggler became aggressive when questioned.

    The migrants have submitted copies of birth certificates, school documents and signed statements from their parents attesting to their claimed birth dates. An online database of birth records maintained by the government of Bangladesh appears to confirm their date of birth claims.

    Shahriar also provided his parents’ birth certificates. If he were as old as immigration officials believe him to be, his mother would have been 12 years old when she had him.

    In each case, immigration officials stood by the passport dates.

    Shahadat and Shahriar are being held in Otay Mesa Detention Center. Tareq was held at the facility for months before being released on a $7,500 bond. All three are moving through the immigration system as adults, with asylum proceedings their only option to stay in the U.S..

    At least one of the migrants, Shahadat, was placed in administrative segregation, a version of solitary confinement in immigration detention, when his age came into question, according to documents provided by their attorney.

    A judge ordered him deported.
    #tests_osseux #os #âge #USA #Etats-Unis #mineurs #enfants #enfance #rétention #détention_administrative #dents #migrations #asile #réfugiés #USA #Etats-Unis

  • New York school district’s facial recognition system sparks privacy fears

    Plan for cameras to track students in Lockport’s schools called ‘unprecedented invasion of privacy’ and ‘colossal waste of money’ A school district in western New York is launching a first-of-its-kind facial recognition system, generating new privacy concerns about the powerful but controversial technology. The Lockport city school district is beginning implementation of the Aegis facial recognition system this week, officials said, with the technology expected to be fully up and running in (...)

    #algorithme #Aegis #CCTV #facial #vidéo-surveillance #surveillance #étudiants

  • Betrogene Kutscher in New York - Artikelsammlung

    2014 koste eine Taxikonzession in New York mehr als eine Million Dollar

    Wie Kredite New York’s Taxifahrer ruinierten

    Taxi loan abuses part of a broader pattern in New York | American Banker

    How New York could respond to the taxi medallion lending crisis | CSNY

    How We Investigated the New York Taxi Medallion Bubble - The New York Times

    Opinion | How New York Taxi Drivers Got Mired in Debt - The New York Times

    Taxi Industry Leaders Got Rich. Drivers Paid the Price. - The New York Times

    De Blasio calls for probe of taxi lenders

    Inquiries Into Reckless Loans to Taxi Drivers Ordered by State Attorney General and Mayor - The New York Times

    Bad loans were killing the taxi industry long before Uber and Lyft: report

    As Thousands of Taxi Drivers Were Trapped in Loans, Top Officials Counted the Money - The New York Times

    ‘They Were Conned’: How Reckless Loans Devastated a Generation of Taxi Drivers - The New York Times

    Und zum Abschluß etwas Lustigeres aus New York:


    #USA #New_York #Taxi #Betrug #Ausbeutung