• Devin Nunes and the Power of Keyword Signaling | WIRED
    https://www.wired.com/story/devin-nunes-and-the-dark-power-of-keyword-signaling

    We increasingly turn to search engines to seek out information. Since Google’s earliest days, marketers have relied on “search engine optimization” to try to maximize the likelihood that Google returns content that highlights their cause or company. In today’s media landscape, organizations and individuals also use these tactics to manipulate the algorithms behind Facebook/Instagram and Twitter feeds. The problem is, whether or not we’re aware, the key words we search are coded with political biases. My research demonstrates that it’s possible to position ideological searches to maximize the exposure of their content.

    When there is limited or no content available on a topic, it’s possible to game search engines to guarantee that certain keywords will be directed to content that includes these terms or is tagged accordingly. This is why conspiracy theorists were able to capitalize on the concept of a “crisis actor.” By producing a plethora of insidious content rife with the term and maximizing SEO, conspiracy theorists filled what Microsoft’s Michael Golebiewski and danah boyd referred to as a “data void.” Searches for “crisis actor” got conspiratorial results until other sources filled the void with more legitimate content debunking the theory.
    screenshot of a google search
    Courtesy of Francesca Tripodi

    To demonstrate how this works in politics, I Googled a few key phrases used in both of Nunes’ speeches. The results demonstrate how politicians and pundits can exploit data voids to create ideological information silos. During each hearing, Nunes describes “the Russia collusion hoax.” When you search for “collusion hoax,” the links returned support the position that investigations into the president are bogus. The top links are from a story in The New York Post published just last week that Dems are trying to block Barr’s probe into the “Russian collusion hoax” and a link to Amazon to purchase a book titled The Russia Hoax: The Illicit Scheme to Clear Hillary Clinton and Frame Donald Trump, by Fox News legal analyst Gregg Jarrett.

    Strategic signaling also drew attention to what the Mueller report did not focus on. On June 12, Nunes noted that the report had not procured any “useful information on figures who played key roles in the investigation such as Joseph Mifsud,” a Maltese academic and figure in the George Papadopoulos case, “or the Democrat paid operative, former spy Christopher Steele,” the British intelligence officer behind the now notorious pee tape allegations. In the days following Nunes’ remarks, the search returns were primarily conservative content published anywhere between two weeks to 12 minutes before Nunes’ speech. In addition to traditional conservative sources like Fox News, Washington Examiner, and National Review, there are also digital-first sources like the Daily Caller and the Daily Wire, as well as stories posted from more dubious publications like the Epoch Times.

    These findings reveal that existing studies on algorithms, filter bubbles, and misinformation online are missing a crucial component regarding the problem of political polarization, specifically data focused on how we access news and information. Epistemological frameworks can lead us into algorithmic rabbit holes. Understanding keyword signaling is an essential part of studying political polarization. While most focus on how output (e.g., search results or social media newsfeeds) keeps us in filter bubbles, more research is needed on how inputs are manipulated for political gain. This level of sophistication highlights how conservative groups systematically work to optimize their content for search and social media. Not unlike the tactics of Republican strategist Frank Luntz, political players and members of the right-wing media ecosystem are able to fill data voids with their own ideas and stories.

    #Politique_numérique #Moteurs_recherche #Faschosphère #Mots_clés #Fake_news

  • Les mots et la réalité Féminicide 1

    En France, le mot « féminicide » est récemment devenu d’usage assez courant. Il est intéressant d’essayer de comprendre comment et pourquoi un mot apparait et aussi pourquoi une population se l’approprie. Il s’agit, de fait, de réfléchir à une série de questions : pourquoi avoir créé un mot ? Quelle est sa définition ? En quoi reflète-t-il la réalité ? Peut-il aider à mieux appréhender le monde voire à le changer ? Ce qu’il désigne existait-il avant lui ? etc.

    Dans un premier temps, il faut s’interroger sur le sens du mot. Qu’est-ce donc que le féminicide ? Introduit dans le dictionnaire « Le petit Robert » en 2015, la définition est la suivante : « Meurtre d’une ou plusieurs femmes ou filles en raison de son sexe ». Le terme en lui-même est un « mot-valise » constitué d’une contraction entre les mots « féminin » et la racine « -cide » qui signifie « frapper, tuer ». Il complète une série de mots ayant la même logique de construction : homicide, parricide, infanticide. Ainsi, à l’intérieur de ce champ lexical, il désigne explicitement le meurtre d’une femme ou d’une jeune fille du fait de sa condition de femme.

    Avant que le terme ne soit utilisé en France, il a été légitimé par les instances internationales. Tout au long des années 1990, elles vont progressivement s’en emparer. Du point de vue de celles-ci, le féminicide regroupe quatre grandes catégories de meurtres de femmes ou de jeunes filles. Premièrement le féminicide « intime » est le fait du meurtre d’une femme par son conjoint ou un ex-conjoint. Deuxièmement le féminicide « non intime » est l’agression ou le meurtre de femmes parce qu’elles sont femmes comme la tuerie de l’école polytechnique de Montréal en 1989. Troisièmement les crimes « d’honneur » sont le meurtre d’une femme pour protéger la réputation de sa famille à cause d’une « transgression » morale. Enfin le féminicide lié à la « dot » est le meurtre d’une femme parce qu’elle n’a pas amené une dot suffisamment importante pour son mariage. Avec ces premiers éléments, nous pouvons voir que les régions du monde ne sont pas toutes confrontées aux mêmes types de féminicides. Ainsi en France si la première catégorie est majoritaire et la deuxième est imaginable, les deux autres dimensions sont a priori absentes. Dans tous les cas, aucune région du monde n’est épargnée par les meurtres de femmes ou filles en raison de leur sexe.

    Si le mot apparait dans un dictionnaire en 2015 pour la France et si les instances internationales s’en emparent dans les années 1990, cela ne résout pas la question de son origine. Il faut pour cela remonter un peu plus loin dans le temps. Selon Margot Giacinti, doctorante en science politique, le terme apparait pour la première fois au tribunal international des crimes contre les femmes à Bruxelles en 1976. En parallèle Diana E. H. Russel, une sociologue féministe sud-africaine mène de nombreuses recherches sur les violences dont les femmes sont victimes. Elle utilise rapidement le terme et publie en 1992 avec Jill Radford Femicide : the Politics of Woman Killing. Cet ouvrage va connaître un écho particulier dans les institutions internationales donc mais également dans les milieux et mouvements féministes. Porté et mobilisé par ces deux ensembles, l’usage du terme n’a fait que se multiplier depuis.

    Ainsi, si nous comprenons un peu mieux comment un mot peut apparaitre, se diffuser et finalement être adopté par une partie des sociétés et des populations, reste à comprendre quels sont ses liens avec le réel. Et c’est ce que nous essayerons d’appréhender dans le post de demain en particulier pour le cas français.

    https://geoprag.wordpress.com/2019/10/08/les-mots-et-la-realite-le-debat-feminicide-1

    –------
    Les mots et la réalité Féminicide 2

    Le terme féminicide ne s’est pas imposé facilement et il est encore discuté aujourd’hui. Quels sont les arguments contre son usage ? Tout d’abord, en suivant la définition, si une femme est tuée en raison de son sexe, cela ne concerne donc pas tous les homicides. En effet, une femme qui meurt dans un cambriolage n’entre évidemment pas dans cette catégorie. Mais cela pose une question fondamentale : comment savoir qu’une femme est tuée parce qu’elle est une femme ? Faut-il que le meurtrier l’avoue, qu’il le dise ou l’écrive ? Si pour définir un féminicide il faut attendre un aveu de culpabilité, il n’y en aurait alors probablement pas ou très peu en France. Or, à la date du 8 octobre 2019, il est estimé qu’il y a déjà eu 115 féminicides en France. Ce sont les femmes tuées par leur conjoint ou ex-conjoint qui rentrent dans cette statistique. Et c’est en parti cela qui est remis en cause par celles et ceux qui refusent l’usage du terme. Pourquoi ? Tout simplement parce qu’ils n’ont pas manifesté ou revendiqué ce meurtre au nom d’un sentiment anti-femmes. Il n’y pas de liens évidents et clairs entre le meurtre des femmes et la notion de féminicide.

    Le deuxième argument contre l’usage du terme féminicide se situe au niveau de ce qu’est un meurtre. En effet, pour les opposant-es, le meurtre d’une personne par un proche est toujours le résultat d’une histoire personnelle particulière. Les raisons concrètes du meurtre (jalousie, colère, tristesse, etc.) permettent d’appréhender cette histoire unique et l’isole en quelques sortes des autres meurtres. Et dans aucun des cas recensés, le meurtre n’a fait l’objet d’une revendication anti-femme. Comment alors passer d’un fait divers individuel à la dénonciation d’un comportement social récurrent contre les femmes ? Le pas à franchir est impossible. Comment appréhender alors l’usage du terme féminicide ? Quel serait l’intérêt de l’employer ? Cela relèverait en fait des mouvements féministes, toujours agressifs, qui visent ainsi à déstabiliser les rapports entre femmes et hommes dans la société. Cela relèverait donc plus de l’idéologie, d’une démarche politique et militante que d’une réalité sociale. Un écran de fumée en quelques sortes ?

    A ces arguments des opposant-es, plusieurs niveaux de réponses peuvent être apportés. Le premier s’appuie sur la réalité statistique et celle-ci est comme souvent têtue. En 2017, 130 femmes sont mortes tuées par leur conjoint ou ex-conjoint tandis que 19 hommes ont été tués par leur conjointe ou ex-conjointe. Ces femmes représentent donc 87,2% des morts violentes au sein du couple. Parmi les femmes ayant tué leur conjoint ou ex-conjoint, plus de la moitié avait subi des violences antérieurement. Cette différence de situation entre les hommes et les femmes ne peut être le simple fait du hasard ou de la malchance, d’autant plus qu’elle se répète année après année. Elle ne peut donc pas non plus être réduite à une série de cas individuel dont on refuserait systématiquement de faire la somme. En France, les femmes meurent, tuées par des hommes.

    Deuxièmement, ce déséquilibre entre les meurtres d’hommes et de femmes n’était pas visible à l’échelle nationale. Jusque-là ces meurtres relevaient de la rubrique fait divers des quotidiens régionaux et les articles évoquaient plus des « drames » (souvent déclinés : drame passionnel, conjugal, de séparation, etc.) que des meurtres. Ces histoires sont bien présentées de façon unique souvent sans lien les unes avec les autres. Ce sont les militantes féministes et les journalistes qui ont commencé à faire le recensement systématique de ces meurtres. Une des premières à le faire est Titiou Le Coq, journaliste de Libération, à partir de 2015. Pour parler de ces histoires individuelles, il a bien fallu trouver un terme, un mot et c’est celui de féminicide qui fut mis en avant. Comme le dit très bien Margot Giacinti : « À l’inverse, il semble que le terme de féminicide permette de relire un certain nombre de faits que l’on analysait comme de simples homicides, alors qu’il s’agit d’un fait social à part entière. Cette relecture oblige à s’interroger sur les raisons de ces meurtres et à se rendre compte de la permanence de meurtres de femmes dans la société. Un certain nombre de femmes ne sont pas tuées pour les mêmes raisons que les hommes, notamment dans le cadre intime. Lorsqu’on dit qu’une femme « est tuée en tant que femme », c’est pour signifier qu’elle est tuée en raison de la position de vulnérabilité dans laquelle les structures sociales la placent. »

    Enfin, il y a un troisième argument qui permet de mieux comprendre pourquoi le terme de « féminicide » est socialement utile et pourquoi il désigne non pas un fantasme de féministes mais une réalité. Cet argument sera abordé dans le troisième et dernier volet de cette étude.

    https://geoprag.wordpress.com/2019/10/09/les-mots-et-la-realite-feminicide-2

    –--------------

    Les mots et la réalité Féminicide 3

    Pour essayer de mieux comprendre pourquoi la dimension sociale du meurtre d’une femme par son conjoint ou son ex-conjoint semble invisible à certain-es, il faut aborder le troisième et dernier volet, celui de l’histoire, du temps long et de la dimension juridique des rapports entre les femmes et les hommes.

    Nous sommes des sociétés héritières de rapports largement inégalitaires entre les femmes et les hommes. Dans le domaine qui nous intéresse ici, c’est tout particulièrement visible : pendant longtemps les régimes qui se sont succédés en France ont largement assumé et autorisé le meurtre à l’intérieur du couple. Le droit romain, le droit monarchique puis le code pénal de 1810 ont autorisé l’« uxoricide » c’est-à-dire le meurtre par le conjoint de son épouse quand elle est prise en flagrant délit d’adultère.

    « ARTICLE 324. &1 Le meurtre commis par l’époux sur l’épouse, ou par celle-ci sur son époux, n’est pas excusable, si la vie de l’époux ou de l’épouse qui a commis le meurtre n’a pas été mise en péril dans le moment même où le meurtre a eu lieu. &2 Néanmoins, dans le cas d’adultère, prévu par l’article 336, le meurtre commis par l’époux sur son épouse, ainsi que sur le complice, à l’instant où il les surprend en flagrant délit dans la maison conjugale, est excusable. »

    Les hommes ont ainsi eu pendant plusieurs millénaires le droit juridique et l’onction sociale de tuer leur conjointe. Situation aberrante mais d’autant plus inégalitaire que l’inverse n’était pas du tout autorisé. Les femmes ayant tué leur mari ont toujours été très largement condamnées. Pour l’homme le meurtre de sa femme est juridiquement une circonstance atténuante, là où pour la femme tuer son mari est une circonstance aggravante. Ainsi sur le temps long, les sociétés ont considéré comme au mieux naturel au pire normal le meurtre d’une femme par son conjoint. Cette situation a laissé des traces dans nos comportements contemporains.

    Ce droit légal au meurtre est accompagné dans le droit civil et dans le droit pénal de très fortes inégalités entre les hommes et les femmes et vouloir distinguer ici l’intégralité des domaines où elles s’exprimaient prendrait plusieurs articles dans ce blog. Nous pouvons retenir que jusqu’à récemment, les hommes étaient des personnes juridiques à part entière tandis que les femmes étaient des mineures éternelles. Sur elles s’exerçaient un droit de propriété, comme à un objet : elles appartenaient littéralement et juridiquement à leur père d’abord à leur mari ensuite. Cette situation sociale fut largement gravée dans le marbre du code civil et du code pénal de Napoléon. Et même si la situation n’est plus la même aujourd’hui, le poids historique des rapports inégaux a laissé des traces dans les esprits et dans les comportements. D’autant plus que le détricotage de ces rapports inégalitaires entre femmes et hommes ne datent finalement pas de si longtemps que cela.

    Progressivement, l’égalité entre les femmes et les hommes se travaillant et s’améliorant lentement, cette situation est devenue intolérable. Il n’est plus devenu possible de justifier, « d’excuser » le meurtre légal d’une femme par son mari. Il faudra toutefois attendre 1975 pour que le deuxième paragraphe de la loi de 1810 soit effacé et que ce droit disparaisse. Néanmoins ce n’est pas parce que quelque chose n’est plus autorisé qu’il ne se fait plus. Le droit collectif que les hommes se sont donnés, le droit qu’ils se sont attribués de tuer leurs conjointes pendant des millénaires parce qu’elles étaient des femmes a disparu mais les traces de ce droit dans les mentalités, dans le corps social et dans les rapports entre genres est encore vivace. C’est bien ce passé qui explique la situation contemporaine. Des hommes considèrent encore trop souvent leur compagne comme leur propriété et préfère les tuer que de les laisser être libres. Cela est d’autant plus criant dans le cas où ils se suicident après. Ces hommes pensent donc qu’ils doivent emporter dans leur mort ce qui leur appartient et empêchent donc littéralement leur conjointe de leur survivre.

    Féminicide c’est le mot qui permet de dire cela. Féminicide c’est le mot qui affirme qu’une société qui connait ce type de meurtre a un problème. Féminicide c’est le mot qui permet de montrer que derrière les histoires individuelles, il y a un fait social. Féminicide c’est le mot qui permet de rappeler qu’en France des femmes meurent parce qu’elles sont des femmes.

    https://geoprag.wordpress.com/2019/10/10/les-mots-et-la-realite-feminicide-3

    #féminicide #mots #vocabulaire #France #terminologie #femmes #décès #morts

  • “You can’t make a living here anymore.” The Honduran climate-movers

    Te espero como la lluvia de mayo. I wait for you like the rain of May — a popular refrain among farmers in Central America, where the first rainfall in May long signaled the end of the dry season. But over the past decade, in what is known as the Central American Dry Corridor — a vast swath that stretches, unbroken, from Guatemala to northern Costa Rica — the rain is no longer guaranteed. Farmers who used to count on two harvests every year are now fortunate to get one.

    In southern Honduras, valleys that were once lush and fertile are now filled with stunted cornstalks and parched riverbeds. Adobe shacks erode on mountainsides, abandoned by those who left with no intention of returning.

    The droughts have forced entire generations to migrate in search of jobs; left behind are the elderly, who often care for grandchildren when their parents depart. “You can’t make a living here anymore,” says José Tomás Aplicano, who is 76 and a lifelong resident of Apacilagua, a village in southern Honduras. Aplicano has watched as countless neighbors, and his own children, moved away. His youngest daughter, Maryori, is the last to stay behind, but he knows she will leave as soon as she finishes high school. “She has to look for another environment to see if she finds work to survive,” he says.

    Many head north; U.S. Customs and Border Patrol data shows that migration from the Dry Corridor has spiked over the past few years. Some spend seasons harvesting coffee or sugar cane in less affected areas of the country. Others move to the city, lured by the prospect of a factory job with steady pay.

    https://story.californiasunday.com/honduras-climate-movers
    #photographie #changement_climatique #migrations #réfugiés_environnementaux #réfugiés_climatiques #réfugiés #asile #sécheresse

    –----------
    Et un nouveau mot, en anglais:
    #climate-movers
    #terminologie #mots #vocabulaire
    ping @sinehebdo

    –---------

    see as well:
    Why the Migrant Caravan Story Is a Climate Change Story
    https://seenthis.net/messages/739539

  • Let’s Talk About Climate Migrants, Not Climate Refugees

    “At first, we woke up to the sound of the wind and right after that the water came streaming into our house. We only managed to grab our children and run away to an area which lies on higher ground,” explains Rafael Domingo, a father of four in Mozambique, where Cyclone Idai left more than 73,000 people homeless in March 2019.

    In 2018 alone, 17.2 million new displacements associated with disasters in 148 countries and territories were recorded (IDMC) and 764,000 people in Somalia, Afghanistan and several other countries were displaced following drought (IOM).

    “Many people who were displaced cannot return home. The drought in Somalia is happening all the time. People have no way to recover,” said Halima, a 30-year-old mother of three displaced in Somalia because of the drought.

    Climate migrants have been invisible for many years on the migration and climate debates. Our work at IOM has been focused for over 10 years on bringing climatic and environmental factors to the light and on building a body of evidence proving that climate change affects – directly and indirectly – human mobility.

    Hence, it might seem paradoxical in this context not to encourage the establishment of a climate specific legal status, parallel to the existing refugees’ status.

    However, while the available evidence on how climate change and environmental degradation affect human mobility is growing and is uncontested, the current focus of the debate on establishing a climate refugee status can lead to a narrow and biased debate and would provide only partial solutions to address the complexity of human mobility and climate change.

    Media are pushing again and again for features on “climate refugees” and request projections on how many climate refugees there will be in twenty years. In contrast, some emblematic small island States, among others, speak out that they do not wish to become climate refugees; they want to be able to stay in their homes, or to move in dignity and through regular channels without abandoning everything behind.

    “When the grass is not enough, movement increases. In the spring, many migrants moved from the south to the north. There is no other way to overcome climate change. All the people wish to survive with their animals and come to a place where they can fatten their livestock,” said Mr. Chinbat, a herder of Sergelen soum in Mongolia, where the adverse effects of climate change are impacting the migration of herders.

    The image of “climate refugees” resonates metaphorically to all as it mirrors the current images we see of those escaping wars and conflicts. With the threat of climate change we imagine millions becoming refugees in the future.

    Yet reducing the issue of migration in the context of climate change to the status of “climate refugees” fails to recognize a number of key aspects that define human mobility in the context of climate change and environmental degradation. Here are 10 of these aspects:

    Climate migration is mainly internal: when migration is internal, people moving are under the responsibility of their own state, they do not cross borders and are not seeking protection from a third country or at the international level.
    Migration is not necessarily forced, especially for very slow onset processes migration is still a matter of choice, even if constrained, so countries need to think first migration management and agreements rather than refugee protection.
    Isolating environment/climatic reasons is difficult, in particular from humanitarian, political, social, conflict or economic ones. It can sometimes be an impossible task and may lead to long and unrealistic legal procedures.
    Creating a special refugee status for climate change related reasons might unfortunately have the opposite effects of what is sought as a solution: it can lead to the exclusion of categories of people who are in need of protection, especially the poorest migrants who move because of a mix of factors and would not be able to prove the link to climate and environmental factors.
    Opening the 1951 Refugee Convention might weaken the refugee status which would be tragic given the state of our world where so many people are in need of protection because of persecution and ongoing conflicts.
    Creating a new convention might be a terribly lengthy political process and countries might not have an appetite for it. Many responses can come from migration management and policy as highlighted already in the 2011 International Dialogue on Migration and the recently adopted Global Compact for Safe, Orderly and Regular Migration. The Nansen Initiative that was launched to look at gaps in protection for people being displaced across borders by disasters, after undertaking thematic and regional consultations also concluded with a document that proposes a “toolkit” of migration policies rather than recommending the establishment of a new status for these people.
    Climate migration discussions should not lose their focus on preventive measures: the key objective of our generation is to invest in climate and environmental solutions for our planet so that people will not have to leave their homes in a forced way in the future. The Paris Agreement offers anchorage for climate action that considers human mobility to avert, minimize and address displacement in the context of climate change.
    IOM encourages the full use of all already existing bodies of laws and instruments, both hard and soft law in humanitarian, human rights and refugee law, instruments on internal displacement, disaster management, legal migration and others.
    Human rights-based approaches are key for addressing climate migration: states of origin bear the primary responsibility for their citizens’ protection even if indeed their countries have not been the main contributors to global warming; they should therefore apply human rights-based approaches for their citizens moving because of environmental or climatic drivers.
    Regular migration pathways can provide relevant protection for climate migrants and facilitate migration strategies in response to environmental factors. Many migration management solutions are available to respond to challenges posed by climate change, environmental degradation and disasters in terms of international migratory movements and can provide a status for people who move in the context of climate change impacts, such as humanitarian visas, temporary protection, authorization to stay, regional and bilateral free movements’ agreements, among several others.

    https://www.un.org/sustainabledevelopment/blog/2019/06/lets-talk-about-climate-migrants-not-climate-refugees
    #migrants_environnementaux #réfugiés_environnementaux
    #terminologie #vocabulaire #mots #terminologie #déplacés_internes #IDPs

    ping @sinehebdo @reka @karine4 @isskein

  • 5 livres sur l’expatriation recommandés par une expat

    J’avoue que la frontière entre “expat” et “migrant” est parfois floue. Les nuances sociales et politiques sont nombreuses et souvent problématiques. Pour moi, un expatrié est tout simplement quelqu’un qui choisit de vivre dans un autre pays pendant un certain temps sans avoir l’intention de devenir un citoyen à part entière ou de s’intégrer pleinement à la culture locale. Un migrant, en revanche, est une personne qui s’installe dans un autre pays avec l’intention d’y construire sa vie, de manière définitive.

    https://www.courrierinternational.com/article/litterature-5-livres-sur-lexpatriation-recommandes-par-une-ex
    #mots #terminologie #migrations #expat #vocabulaire #expatrié #catégorisation

    ping @sinehebdo

  • Breve nota semantica.

    Le merci si «fanno sbarcare», le persone si «accolgono»;
    Le caramelle si «distribuiscono», le persone si «smistano»;
    Le palle si «prendono», le persone si «ospitano»;
    Nei «campi» ci stanno le patate, le persone vivono in «insediamenti», temporanei o permanenti;
    I relitti vengono «recuperati» in mare, le persone «salvate»;
    Si «rispedisce» un pacco al mittente, si «riportano a casa» le persone.

    La semantica cambia, senza che ce ne rendiamo conto, la percezione dei fatti.

    Quando si prendono dei verbi generalmente impiegati per cose inanimate e si usano per parlare di una categoria di esseri umani (oggi africani, ieri ebrei, domani chissà), consapevolmente o inconsapevolmente, si compie un’azione spregevole.

    «49 migranti sono stati RECUPERATI nel Canale di Sicilia. Verranno FATTI SBARCARE e TRASPORTATI a Lampedusa per una prima identificazione. Gli aventi diritto d’asilo verranno REDISTRIBUITI nei diversi paesi UE, gli altri RISPEDITI nei paesi di provenienza».

    Una frase del genere, apparentemente neutra perchè non dà giudizi ma sembra riportare fedelmente dei semplici fatti, è in realtà disumanizzante, perchè a livello di metalinguaggio, sta dicendo «queste non sono persone, sono pacchi postali».

    source : https://www.facebook.com/lorenzo.fontana.391/posts/10157593091789555

    #terminologie #migrations #asile #réfugiés #mots #vocabulaire #accueil #débarquement #marchandises #personnes #sauvetage #camps #paquets_de_la_poste #lmsi

  • A #Fribourg, un service en ligne fait le lien entre entreprises et réfugiés

    Le canton de Fribourg lance une plateforme en ligne pour mettre en relation les entreprises et les personnes réfugiées sur le marché de l’emploi. Ce service, une première en Suisse, doit permettre de lutter contre la pénurie de main-d’oeuvre et favoriser l’intégration.

    Baptisée FRintegration.ch, cette plateforme a été pensée par et pour les entreprises. Celles-ci ont bénéficié de l’expérience et des bases informatiques de l’Union patronale du canton de Fribourg.

    Sur ce nouveau site internet, les professionnels de l’intégration publient les profils des personnes aptes au travail et répondent aux demandes des entreprises. Si un CV, anonyme, séduit ou colle à une demande, un dossier complet et un entretien suivront.

    « La mise en place de cette plateforme répondait à un besoin, d’une part, des entreprises de pouvoir lutter contre la pénurie de main-d’oeuvre et, d’autre part, des personnes réfugiées ou admises à titre provisoire de pouvoir s’intégrer sur le marché du travail. C’est vraiment une solution win-win », indique Anne-Claude Demierre, conseillère d’Etat en charge de la santé et des affaires sociales, dans le 12h30.
    Coup de pouce du canton

    La plateforme s’adresse à des réfugiés ou à des requérants titulaires d’un permis F ou B, soit des personnes au bénéfice d’un permis de réfugié ou admises à titres provisoire. Actuellement, le canton de Fribourg accueille un peu plus de 822 jeunes femmes et hommes issus de la filière de l’asile. Ils sont âgés de 16 à 25 ans.

    Pour renforcer ce dispositif de soutien à l’intégration, les autorités octroient aux entreprises des subsides à l’embauche jusqu’à hauteur de 6000 francs, en compensation du travail de formation. Par ailleurs, Fribourg se dit prêt à mettre sa nouvelle plateforme à disposition des autres cantons.

    https://www.rts.ch/info/regions/fribourg/10711881-a-fribourg-un-service-en-ligne-fait-le-lien-entre-entreprises-et-refugi
    #plateforme #travail #asile #migrations #Suisse #intégration_professionnelle

    Site web de la plateforme :


    https://www.frintegration.ch

    Et un nouveau #mot :
    #working_refugees
    #terminologie #vocabulaire
    ping @sinehebdo

  • AMI EUR> AAP SFRI - Structures de formation par la recherche dans les initiatives d’excellence

    L’ANR lancera bientôt un appel à projets (réservé aux IDEX et I-site) concernant des structures de formation par la recherche dans les initiatives d’excellence (SFRI).
    Une SFRI est un ensemble d’écoles universitaires de recherche (EUR) proposant une offre de formation aux niveaux master et doctorat.

    Pardon ? C’est quoi au juste ?
    Message reçu dans ma boîte mail professionnelle (10.09.2019)... mail reçu du président de l’#université Grenoble Alpes...

    Une #novlangue incompréhensible... et évidemment, la belle rhétorique de l’#excellence partout !
    #néolibéralisme #université_néolibérale #IDEX #SFRI #EUR #formation #mots #rhétorique #excellence #vocabulaire

    • Quelques éléments de plus, reçus via une collègue:

      Il s’agit d’un appel à projet (réservé aux IDEX) concernant des structures de formation par la recherche dans les initiatives d’excellence (SFRI). Une SFRI est un ensemble d’école universitaire de recherche (EUR) qui propose une offre de formation aux niveaux master et doctorat. Elle viendrait compléter l’offre de formation « classique », s’adresserait à des étudiants d’excellence avec bien entendu une forte dimension internationale. Un seul projet sera déposé par l’UGA et concernera entre 30 et 40 étudiants pour un budget de 200 k€/an à répartir entre toutes les propositions. Il s’agit dans un premier temps de faire remonter des intentions de projet. Là aussi, nous n’avons pas eu plus d’information que ce qui est inscrit dans le texte.

  • Lettre à un ami à Gaza

    Les #mots peuvent-ils réparer le monde ? Inspirée de « #Lettres à un ami allemand » d’#Albert_Camus, une invitation poétique au #dialogue israélo-palestinien. Un #essai_littéraire_filmique, présenté hors compétition à la Mostra de Venise en 2018.

    « Quand tu mènes tes guerres, pense aux autres. (N’oublie pas ceux qui réclament la paix) », écrivait #Mahmoud_Darwich, figure de proue de la #poésie palestinienne dans Pense aux autres (2007). Dans la bouche de l’actrice arabe israélienne Clara Khoury (La fiancée syrienne), le texte résonne comme un puissant #cri_politique. Alors que la poésie jaillit, le mur de béton érigé le long de la frontière avec la bande de Gaza défile en toile de fond. Aux reportages d’actualité sur le conflit israélo-palestinien se mêlent de poignantes lectures, par #Amos_Gitaï lui-même et les comédiens Makram Khoury et Hilla Vidor, de textes en arabe et en hébreu signés S. Yizhar, Emile Habibi et #Amira_Hass. Fervent défenseur de la paix, le cinéaste israélien s’est entouré d’amis pour composer cet essai littéraire filmique, présenté hors compétition à la Mostra de Venise en 2018.

    https://www.arte.tv/fr/videos/087427-000-A/lettre-a-un-ami-a-gaza
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHC6GsQzVbA


    #Israël #Palestine #lettre #guerre #paix #violence

    #Faire_monde à travers des lettres et de la poésie ?
    ping @karine4 @cede
    @reka

  • undocumented, illegalized refugees

    Deux nouveaux #mots, @sinehebdo, pour décrire les personnes qui quittent leur pays pour s’installer dans un autre.
    Ici, dans un article consacré aux réfugiés soudanais aux Pays-Bas, on parle de
    « undocumented, illegalized refugees »

    Ce qui est, évidemment, une contradiction dans les termes, car un réfugié ne peut pas être « illégal »... en utilisant la forme « illégalisé », on souligne le #processus par lequel un réfugié est rendu illégal par la politique migratoire...

    Du coup, les nouveaux mots :
    #undocumented_refugee
    #illegalized_refugee
    ou en français
    #réfugié_illégalisé
    #réfugié_irrégulier

    Source :

    For us as undocumented, illegalized refugees it’s important that activists, leftist politicians, lawyers, judges and others who care about justice have a good understanding of what’s happening in our countries of origin. I truly believe that a better understanding can lead to more solidarity, changed policies, better legal representation and residence permits. By writing these short columns with updates about the situation in Sudan, I hope to contribute to this.

    https://www.doorbraak.eu/sudan-updates-terrorists-in-the-new-sovereign-council

    #terminologie #vocabulaire

  • Habasha
    En discutant hier soir avec un réfugiés érythréen, et en parlant de sa sortie du pays pour aller au Soudan... il m’a dit :

    "Au #Soudan, tout le monde nous appelle « #habasha ». Habasha sont les personnes d’Érythrée et d’Ethiopie. Si la police t’identifie comme un Habasha, il te demande de l’argent en te menaçant de te renvoyer en Erythrée si tu ne paies pas. Habasha sont les personnes qui ne parlent pas arabe. Tu as donc intérêt, dès que tu arrives au Soudan à apprendre l’arabe, si tu ne le sait pas".

    #terminologie #vocabulaire #mots #migrations #asile #réfugiés
    ping @sinehebdo @reka

    –----------

    #Habesha peoples

    Habesha peoples: Ge’ez: ሐበሻ /Habesha/ or /Abesha/ ((rarely Habeshat: Ge’ez: ሐበሻይት), or rarely used exonyms like “Abyssinian people,” "Aithiops: Greek: Αἰθίοψ," “Cushites: Hebrew: כאשיטאס‎, [not the be confused with the larger group — Cushitic Peoples — that includes but is not limited to Habeshas],” or "al-Ḥabaš (al-Habash): Mehri-Arabic: الهباش‎/al-Ḥabaši (al-Habashi): Mehri-Arabic: الحبشي‎ ~ ‘incense gatherers’ ~”. Habesha (Ge’ez: ሐበሻ) ) is a common term used to refer to both Ethiopians and Eritreans as a whole [24][25]. Certain definitions considered the Ethiosemitic-speaking and Agwa-speaking Cushitic peoples inhabiting the highlands of Ethiopia and Eritrea as the core ethnic groups that historically constituted the pan-ethnic group Habesha peoples, while this notion is only partially accepted.[26] They historically include a linguistically, culturally and ancestrally related ethnic groups, conservatively-speaking mostly from the Ethiopian Highlands[27] Members’ cultural, linguistic, and in certain cases, ancestral origins trace back to the Kingdom of Dʿmt, the Kingdom of Aksum, among other kingdoms that preceded or made up the Ethiopian Empire in the Horn of Africa.[28] Some Scholars have classified the Tigrayans and the Amhara as Abyssinians proper under an ultra-neo-conservative theory postulated by a few scholars and political parties but not widely accepted by the general public or by most indigenous scholars of the region.[29][24][30][31][32]

    https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Habesha_peoples
    #Abyssinie #Abyssins

    –--------

    Not black, but Habasha : Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants in American society

    In this article, I examine the identity choices of Ethiopian and Eritrean immigrants of Amhara, Tigrayan and Tigrinya ethnicity within the context of the larger debate on how non-white immigrants are being incorporated into American society. I argue that these immigrants resist racialization even while their actions and attitudes potentially reinforce America’s racial divide. They implicitly challenge American racial categories by thinking of themselves as Habasha, which they view as a separate non-black ethno-racial category that emphasizes their Semitic origins. Meanwhile, they often distance themselves from American blacks through pursuing transnational connections, producing Habasha spaces, displaying the attributes of a ‘model minority’ and preserving Habasha beauty through endogamy. By remaining relatively isolated within their ethnic communities in Washington, DC, which is the focus of this study, they may succeed in differentiating themselves from American blacks, but they are not likely to join the American mainstream on a par with whites.

    https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/01419870.2011.598232

  • How the #El_Paso Killer Echoed the Incendiary Words of Conservative Media Stars

    It remains unclear what, or who, ultimately shaped the views of the white, 21-year-old gunman, or whether he was aware of the media commentary. But his post contains numerous references to “invasion” and cultural “replacement” — ideas that, until recently, were relegated to the fringes of the nationalist right.


    https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/08/11/business/media/el-paso-killer-conservative-media.html?action=click&module=Top%20Stories&pg

    #vocabulaire #terminologie #invasion #rhétorique_de_l'invasion #mots #médias #journalisme #presse #Tucker_Carlson #tuerie #massacre #USA #Etats-Unis #eau #métaphore #liquide #remplacement #grand_remplacement

  • Parce que les mots sont importants, mais parfois aussi ce qui est ajouté avant et après les mots. Dans ce cas des #guillemets... autour du mot réfugiés.
    Entre guillemets, que diable veut bien dire le Courrier international par là ?
    Qu’il s’agit de réfugiés, mais... en réalité, vous savez...

    Nouveau sauvetage pour l’Ocean Viking, Richard Gere en soutien aux « réfugiés » de l’Open Arms

    D’ailleurs, plus loin dans l’article on reprend les propos de Salvini (et voilà que les guillemets semblent bien à un automatisme qui, hélas, ressemble fort à une caisse de résonance des politiciens)...

    - « Clandestins non identifiés » -

    Le ministre italien de l’Intérieur, Matteo Salvini, qui a fait éclater jeudi la coalition populiste en Italie et mène déjà campagne en vue de probables élections à l’automne, a adressé un courrier au gouvernement de la Norvège, dont le navire Ocean Viking bat pavillon.

    Notez bien qu’on met en sous-titre et entre guillemets (ah, tiens, aussi !) le mot #Clandestins_non_identifiés (c’est pour toi, cela, @sinehebdo !)...

    On met tout entre guillemets (et du coup dans le même paquet), désormais, les termes inventé d’un ministre de l’intérieur fasciste et le terme qui désigne des personnes en quête de protection internationale car ils fuient guerres, famines et autres catastrophes...

    https://www.courrierinternational.com/depeche/nouveau-sauvetage-pour-locean-viking-richard-gere-en-soutien-
    #réfugiés #asile #migrations #mots #terminologie #vocabulaire

    ping @reka

  • How the media contributed to the migrant crisis

    Disaster reporting plays to set ideas about people from ‘over there’.

    When did you notice the word “migrant” start to take precedence over the many other terms applied to people on the move? For me it was in 2015, as the refugee crisis in Europe reached its peak. While debate raged over whether people crossing the Mediterranean via unofficial routes should be regarded as deserving candidates for European sympathy and protection, it seemed as if that word came to crowd out all others. Unlike the other terms, well-meaning or malicious, that might be applied to people in similar situations, this one word appears shorn of context; without even an im- or an em- attached to it to indicate that the people it describes have histories or futures. Instead, it implies an endless present: they are migrants, they move, it’s what they do. It’s a form of description that, until 2015, I might have expected to see more often in nature documentaries, applied to animals rather than human beings.
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    But only certain kinds of human beings. The professional who moves to a neighbouring city for work is not usually described as a migrant, and neither is the wealthy businessman who acquires new passports as easily as he moves his money around the world. It is most often applied to those people who fall foul of border control at the frontiers of the rich world, whether that’s in Europe, the US, Australia, South Africa or elsewhere. That’s because the terms that surround migration are inextricably bound up with power, as is the way in which our media organisations choose to disseminate them.

    The people I met during the years I spent reporting on the experiences of refugees at Europe’s borders, for my book Lights in the Distance, were as keenly aware of this as any of us. There was the fixer I was introduced to in Bulgaria, a refugee himself, who was offering TV news crews a “menu” of stories of suffering, with a price range that corresponded with the value the media placed on them. Caesar, a young man from Mali I met in Sicily, told me he was shocked to find that Italian television would usually only show images of Africa in reports about war or poverty. Some refugees’ stories, he felt, were treated with more urgency than others because of what country they came from. Or there was Hakima, an Afghan woman who lived with her family in Athens, who confronted me directly: “We keep having journalists visit, and they want to hear our stories, but, tell me, what can you do?” Often, people I met were surprised at the lack of understanding, even indifference, they felt was being shown to them. Didn’t Europe know why people like them were forced to make these journeys? Hadn’t Europe played an intimate role in the histories and conflicts of their own countries?

    Europe’s refugee crisis, or more properly, a disaster partly caused by European border policies, rather than simply the movement of refugees towards Europe, was one of the most heavily mediated world events of the past decade. It unfolded around the edges of a wealthy and technologically developed region, home to several major centres of the global media industry. Scenes of desperation, suffering and rescue that might normally be gathered by foreign correspondents in harder-to-access parts of the world were now readily available to reporters, news crews, filmmakers and artists at relatively low cost.

    The people at the centre of the crisis were, at least for a time, relatively free to move around once they had reached safety and to speak to whoever they pleased. This gave certain advantages to the kind of media coverage that was produced. Most of all, it allowed quick and clear reporting on emergency situations as they developed. Throughout 2015, the crisis narrative was developed via a series of flashpoints at different locations within and around the European Union. In April, for example, attention focused on the smuggler boat route from Libya, after the deadliest shipwreck ever recorded in the Mediterranean. A month or so later focus shifted to Calais, where French and British policies of discouraging irregular migrants from attempting to cross the Channel had led to a growing spectacle of mass destitution. By the summer, the number of boat crossings from Turkey to Greece had dramatically increased, and images and stories of people stepping on to Aegean shores, or of piles of orange lifejackets, came to dominate. Then came the scenes of people moving through the Balkans, and so on, and so on.

    https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/2fe295c2e8dc7ea934d7091beaee84d9c5c3c804/42_649_3645_2186/master/3645.jpg?width=880&quality=85&auto=format&fit=max&s=4029d3e00eba3245a92c5c

    In all of these situations the news media were able to do their basic job in emergency situations, which is to communicate what’s happening, who’s affected, what’s needed the most. But this is usually more than a matter of relaying dry facts and figures. “Human stories” have the greatest currency among journalists, although it’s an odd term if you think about it.

    What stories aren’t human? In fact, it’s most commonly used to denote a particular kind of human story; one that gives individual experience the greatest prominence, that tells you what an event felt like, both physically and emotionally. It rests on the assumption that this is what connects most strongly with audiences: either because it hooks them in and keeps them watching or reading, or because it helps them identify with the protagonist, perhaps in a way that encourages empathy, or a particular course of action in response. As a result, the public was able to easily and quickly access vivid accounts and images of people’s experiences as they attempted to cross the EU’s external borders, or to find shelter and welcome within Europe.

    The trade-off was that this often fit into predetermined ideas about what disasters look like, who needs protection, who is innocent and who is deserving of blame. Think, for example, about the most recognisable image of the refugee crisis in 2015: the picture of a Turkish police officer carrying the lifeless body of three-year-old Alan Kurdi away from the water’s edge on a beach near Bodrum.

    As the Dutch documentary Een zee van beelden – A Sea of Images – (Medialogica, 2016) asked: why did this image in particular strike such a chord? After all, many news editors see images of death on a daily basis, yet for the most part decide to exclude them. The documentary showed how the apparently viral spread of the Alan Kurdi photograph on social media was in large part the result of a series of decisions taken by senior journalists and NGO workers.

    https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/dae2df82cc5f6e0366d71f29daacfa5fdbc32e71/0_285_4500_2700/master/4500.jpg?width=880&quality=85&auto=format&fit=max&s=08662beb01cdef62f0e718

    First, a local photo agency in Turkey decided to release the image to the wires because they were so fed up with the lack of political response to the crisis on their shores. The image was shared by an official at a global human rights NGO with a large Twitter following, and retweeted by several prominent correspondents for large news organisations. Picture editors at several newspapers then decided, independently of one another, to place the photo on the front pages of their next editions; only after that point did it reach its widest circulation online. The image gained the status it did for a mix of reasons – political, commercial, but also aesthetic. One of the picture editors interviewed in the documentary commented on how the position of the figures in the photo resembled that of Michelangelo’s Pietà, an iconography of suffering and sacrifice that runs deep in European culture.

    But if this way of working has its advantages, it also has its dark side. News media that rush from one crisis point to another are not so good at filling in the gaps, at explaining the obscured systems and long-term failures that might be behind a series of seemingly unconnected events. To return to the idea of a “refugee crisis”, for example, this is an accurate description in one sense, as it involved a sharp increase in the number of people claiming asylum in the European Union; from around 430,000 in 2013, according to the EU statistics agency Eurostat, to well over a million in 2015 and 2016 each. In global terms this was a relatively small number of refugees: the EU has a population of over 500 million, while most of the world’s 68.5 million forcibly displaced people are hosted in poorer parts of the world. But the manner of people’s arrival was chaotic and often deadly, while there was a widespread institutional failure to ensure that their needs – for basic necessities, for legal and political rights – were met. To stop there, however, risks giving the false impression that the crisis was a problem from elsewhere that landed unexpectedly on European shores.

    This impression is false on two counts. First, Europe has played a key role, historically, in the shaping of a world where power and wealth are unequally distributed, and European powers continue to pursue military and arms trading policies that have caused or contributed to the conflicts and instability from which many people flee. Second, the crisis of 2015 was a direct effect of the complex and often violent system of policing immigration from outside the EU that has been constructed in the last few decades.

    In short, this has involved the EU and its members signing treaties with countries outside its borders to control immigration on its behalf; an increasingly militarised frontier at the geographical edges of the EU; and an internal system for regulating the movement of asylum seekers that aims to force them to stay in the first EU country they enter. This, cumulatively, had the effect of forcing desperate people to take narrower and more dangerous routes by land and sea, while the prioritising of border control over safe and dignified reception conditions compounded the disaster. How well, really, did media organisations explain all this to their audiences?

    The effect, all too often, was to frame these newly arrived people as others; people from “over there”, who had little to do with Europe itself and were strangers, antagonistic even, to its traditions and culture. This was true at times, of both well-meaning and hostile media coverage. A sympathetic portrayal of the displaced might focus on some of those images and stories that matched stereotypes of innocence and vulnerability: children, women, families; the vulnerable, the sick, the elderly.

    Negative coverage, meanwhile, might focus more on the men, the able-bodied, nameless and sometimes faceless people massed at fences or gates. Or people from particular countries would be focused on to suit a political agenda. The Sun, one of Britain’s most widely read newspapers, for example, led with a picture of Alan Kurdi on its front page in September 2015, telling its readers that the refugee crisis was a matter of life and death, and that the immediate action required was further British military intervention in Syria. A few weeks later it gave another refugee boat story the front page, but in contrast to the earlier one the language was about “illegals” who were seeking a “back door”. This time, the refugees were from Iraq, and they had landed on the territory of a British air force base in Cyprus, which legally made them the responsibility of the UK.

    The fragmented and contradictory media coverage of the crisis left room for questions to go unanswered and myths to circulate: who are these people and what do they want from us? Why don’t they stop in the first safe country they reach? Why don’t the men stay behind and fight? How can we make room for everyone? Are they bringing their problems to our shores? Do they threaten our culture and values? The problem is made worse by those media outlets that have an active desire to stoke hostility and misunderstanding.

    One of the first people I met in the course of my reporting was Azad, a young Kurdish man from northern Syria, in a hastily constructed refugee camp in Bulgaria at the end of 2013. At the time, the inability of Bulgarian and EU authorities to adequately prepare for the arrival of a few thousand people – the camp, at Harmanli in southern Bulgaria, marked the first time Médecins sans Frontières had ever set up emergency medical facilities within Europe – seemed like an unusual development. Everyone was new to this situation, and the camp’s inhabitants, largely Syrians who had fled the war there but decided that Syria’s neighbouring countries could not offer them the security they needed, were shocked at what they found. Several of them told me this couldn’t possibly be the real Europe, and that they would continue moving until they found it. Azad was friendly and wanted to know lots about where I came from, London, and to find out what he could about the other countries in Europe, and where people like him might find a place to settle.

    I went back to meet Azad several times over the next two years, as he and his family made their way across Bulgaria, and then central Europe, to Germany. During that time, the backlash against refugees grew stronger, a fact Azad was keenly aware of. In Sofia, in the spring of 2014, he pointed out places in the city centre where homeless Syrians had been attacked by street gangs. Later that year, in eastern Germany, we walked through a town where lampposts were festooned with posters for a far-right political party.

    https://i.guim.co.uk/img/media/fa2e141ab6724115920ad9c8da0a9a8f5062613a/178_3160_7900_4740/master/7900.jpg?width=880&quality=85&auto=format&fit=max&s=f94d910248f1757de42634

    By the autumn of 2015, Azad and his family were settled in Germany’s Ruhr area, and he was much warier of me than he had been in our early meetings. He could see that hostility ran alongside the curiosity and welcome that had greeted the new arrivals to Europe; and he knew how giving too many details away to journalists could threaten what stability people in his situation had managed to find. Within a few months, a series of events – the Islamic State attack in Paris in November 2015, the robberies and sexual assaults in Cologne that New Year’s Eve – had provided the excuse for some media outlets to tie well-worn stereotypes about savage, dark foreigners and their alleged threat to white European purity to the refugees of today.

    The most brazen of these claims – such as the Polish magazine wSieci, which featured a white woman draped in the EU flag being groped at by the arms of dark-skinned men, under the headline The Islamic Rape of Europe – directly echoed the Nazi and fascist propaganda of Europe’s 20th century. But racist stereotyping was present in more liberal outlets too. The Süddeutsche Zeitung, in its coverage of the Cologne attacks, prominently featured an illustration of a woman’s legs silhouetted in white, with the space in between taken up by a black arm and hand. Racism is buried so deep in European history that at times like these it can remain unspoken yet still make its presence clear.

    Now, several years on from the peak of the refugee crisis, we are faced with a series of uncomfortable facts. The EU has tried to restore and strengthen the border system that existed before 2015 by extending migration control deep into Africa and Asia. The human rights of the people this affects, not least the many migrants trapped in horrendous conditions in Libya, are taking a back seat. Far right and nationalist movements have made electoral gains in many countries within the EU, and they have done this partly by promising to crack down on migration, to punish refugees for daring to ask for shelter from disasters that Europe was all too often the midwife to. Politicians of the centre are being pulled to the right by these developments, and a dangerous narrative threatens to push out all others: that European culture and identity are threatened by intrusions from outside. If we come to view culture in this way – as something fixed and tightly bounded by the ideologies of race and religion, or as a means for wealthy parts of the world to defend their privilege – then we are headed for further, greater disasters.

    The irony is that you can only believe in this vision if you ignore not only Europe’s history, but its present too. Movement, exchange, new connections, the making and remaking of tradition – these things are happening all around us, and already involve people who have been drawn here from other parts of the world by ties not just of conflict but of economics, history, language and technology. By the same token, displacement is not just a feature of the lives of people from elsewhere in the world; it’s been a major and recent part of Europe’s history too. And what has kept people alive, what has preserved traditions and allowed people to build identities and realise their potential, is solidarity: the desire to defend one another and work towards common goals.

    If there is a failure to recognise this, then the way people are represented by our media and cultural institutions has to be at fault, and setting this right is an urgent challenge. This isn’t only in terms of how people are represented and when, but who gets to participate in the decision-making; who gets to speak with authority, or with political intent, or with a collective voice rather than simply as an individual.

    All too often, the voices of refugees and other marginalised people are reduced to pure testimony, which is then interpreted and contextualised on their behalf. One thing that constantly surprised me about the reporting on refugees in Europe, for instance, was how little we heard from journalists who had connections to already settled diaspora communities. Immigration from Africa, Asia or the Middle East is hardly new to Europe, and this seems like a missed opportunity to strengthen bridges we have already built. Though it’s never too late.

    Any meaningful response to this has to address the question of who gets to tell stories, as well as what kinds of stories are told. The Refugee Journalism Project, a mentoring scheme for displaced journalists, based at London College of Communication – disclosure: I’m on the steering committee, and it is supported by the Guardian Foundation – focuses not only on providing people with a media platform, but helping them develop the skills and contacts necessary for getting jobs.

    All too often the second part is forgotten about. But although initiatives like these are encouraging, we also need to rethink the way our media organisations are run: who owns them, who makes the decisions, who does the work. This reminds me of what I heard Fatima, a women’s rights activist originally from Nigeria, tell an audience of NGO workers in Italy in 2016: “Don’t just come and ask me questions and sell my story or sell my voice; we need a change.”

    The more those of us who work in media can help develop the connections that already exist between us, the more I think we can break down the idea of irreconcilable conflict over migration. Because, really, there is no “over there” – just where we are.

    https://www.theguardian.com/news/2019/aug/01/media-framed-migrant-crisis-disaster-reporting
    #médias #journalisme #presse #crise #terminologie #mots #vocabulaire #asile #migrations #réfugiés #crise_migratoire

  • Attacks by White Extremists Are Growing. So Are Their Connections.

    In a manifesto posted online before his attack, the gunman who killed 50 last month in a rampage at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, said he drew inspiration from white extremist terrorism attacks in Norway, the United States, Italy, Sweden and the United Kingdom.

    His references to those attacks placed him in an informal global network of white extremists whose violent attacks are occurring with greater frequency in the West.

    An analysis by The New York Times of recent terrorism attacks found that at least a third of white extremist killers since 2011 were inspired by others who perpetrated similar attacks, professed a reverence for them or showed an interest in their tactics.

    The connections between the killers span continents and highlight how the internet and social media have facilitated the spread of white extremist ideology and violence.

    In one instance, a school shooter in New Mexico corresponded with a gunman who attacked a mall in Munich. Altogether, they killed 11 people.

    One object of fascination for the Christchurch killer and at least four other white extremists was Anders Behring Breivik, the far-right extremist who killed 77 in a bombing and mass shooting in Norway in 2011.

    Mr. Breivik’s lengthy manifesto offered a litany of grievances about immigration and Islam — and the attacks became a model for future ones.

    “I think that Breivik was a turning point, because he was sort of a proof of concept as to how much an individual actor could accomplish,” said J.M. Berger, author of the book “Extremism” and a research fellow with VOX-Pol, a European academic initiative to study online extremism.

    “He killed so many people at one time operating by himself, it really set a new bar for what one person can do.”

    Shortly after the Norway massacre, a prominent American white supremacist named Frazier Glenn Miller wrote on a white supremacist forum that Mr. Breivik had “inspired young Aryan men to action.” Mr. Miller opened fire on a Jewish retirement home and community center in Kansas a few years later, killing three.

    Mr. Breivik was not the only mass killer to inspire copycats. The Christchurch shooter also paid tribute to a Canadian man who opened fire inside a Quebec City mosque in 2017, writing his name on one of the guns used in his attack.

    That Canadian gunman read extensively about Dylann Roof, the American who killed nine worshipers at a black church in South Carolina in 2015.

    At least four white extremist killers made statements online praising Elliot Rodger, a racist and misogynist who targeted women in a 2014 spree, before carrying out their own attacks.

    All these attacks occurred amid a surge of white supremacist and xenophobic terrorism in the West that has frequently targeted Muslims, immigrants and other minority groups, the Times analysis found.

    The analysis was based on data from the Global Terrorism Database and identified nearly 350 white extremist terrorism attacks in Europe, North America and Australia from 2011 through 2017, the latest year of available data. We also examined preliminary data on attacks in the United States in 2018.

    The database is a project of the National Consortium for the Study of Terrorism and Responses to Terrorism at the University of Maryland. It relies on news reports and other records to capture episodes that meet its definition of terrorism: the use of violence by a non-state actor to attain a political or social goal.

    Over this period, white extremism — an umbrella term encompassing white nationalist, white supremacist, neo-Nazi, xenophobic, anti-Muslim and anti-Semitic ideologies — accounted for about 8 percent of all attacks in these regions and about a third of those in the United States.

    Erin Miller, who manages the database, said the increase in white extremist terrorism parallels a rise in hate crimes and bias episodes in the West and that deadly attacks are occurring more often.

    “There’s a common framing of far-right terrorism or domestic terrorism as being ‘terrorism lite’ and not as serious,” she said. “It’s an interesting question given that far-right attacks can be quite devastating.”

    Xenophobia Drives Violence in Europe

    In recent years, Europe has seen a surge in far-right and xenophobic violence amid an influx of migrants and refugees from conflicts in the Middle East and Africa.

    The Global Reach of White Extremism

    There were five white extremist attacks in Australia from 2011 through 2017, all of which were attacks on mosques and Islamic centers. There were no such attacks in New Zealand during that same period.

    Then the massacre of worshippers at two mosques in Christchurch on March 15 — the deadliest shooting in modern New Zealand history — helped put the global nature of white extremism into relief. The shooter was an Australian man who said he was radicalized during his travels in Europe and designed his attack to draw an American audience.

    Experts say the same broad motives are at play whether the target is a mosque in Perth or an asylum seekers’ shelter in Dresden or a synagogue in Pittsburgh. Attackers who identify as white, Christian and culturally European see an attack on their privileged position in the West by immigrants, Muslims and other religious and racial minorities.

    The difference now is that it is easier than ever for extremists to connect both domestically and across continents, according to Mr. Berger, the “Extremism” author. The entry point for radicalization is less narrow than it was during earlier waves of white supremacist action, when finding ideological fellow travelers typically required meeting in person.

    “This is a particularly strong wave,” Mr. Berger said, “and I think it’s being fueled by a lot of political developments and also by the sort of connective tissue that you get from the Internet that wasn’t there before that’s really making it easier for groups to be influenced and to coordinate, or not necessarily coordinate but synchronize over large geographical distances.”

    Heidi Beirich, director of the Southern Poverty Law Center’s Intelligence Project, said that given these international connections, it’s important to reconsider the nature of the threat. “We conceive of this problem as being a domestic one,” she said. “But that’s not the case.”

    The challenge for law enforcement will be to buck a sometimes myopic focus on Islamic extremism as the only driver of international terrorism.

    It may also require rethinking the legal framework for what constitutes terrorism: from violence that arises from a command and control structure to a looser definition that can account for a wider range of violent actors who share a common ideology.

    “They don’t see themselves as Americans or Canadians, very much like the Christchurch killer didn’t see himself as an Australian; he saw himself as part of a white collective,” Dr. Beirich said.

    “It has never been the case that these people didn’t think in a global way. They may have acted in ways that looked domestic but the thinking was always about building an international white movement.”

    https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/04/03/world/white-extremist-terrorism-christchurch.html?smid=tw-nytimes&smtyp=cur
    #cartographie #visualisation #connections #réseau #suprématistes_blancs #extrême_droite #attaques #terrorisme #xénophobie #racisme #extrémisme_blanc
    intéressant la #terminologie #mots #vocabulaire

    ping @visionscarto @fil

  • How to Think About #Empire

    Boston Review speaks with #Arundhati_Roy on censorship, storytelling, and her problem with the term ‘postcolonialism.’

    In her second novel, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness (2017), Arundhati Roy asks, “What is the acceptable amount of blood for good literature?” This relationship between the imagination and the stuff of real life—violence, injustice, power—is central to Roy’s writing, dating back to her Booker Prize–winning debut novel The God of Small Things (1997). For the twenty years between the release of her first and second novels, the Indian writer has dismayed many—those who preferred that she stick to storytelling and those who were comfortable with the turn of global politics around 9/11—by voicing her political dissent loudly and publicly.

    Her critical essays, many published in major Indian newspapers, take on nuclear weapons, big dams, corporate globalization, India’s caste system, the rise of Hindu nationalism, the many faces of empire, and the U.S. war machine. They have garnered both acclaim and anger. In India Roy has often been vilified by the media, and accused of sedi- tion, for her views on the Indian state, the corruption of the country’s courts, and India’s brutal counterinsurgency in Kashmir. She has, on one occasion, even been sent to prison for committing “contempt of court.” In spite of this, Roy remains outspoken. In this interview, she reflects on the relationship between the aesthetic and the political in her work, how to think about power, and what it means to live and write in imperial times.

    Avni Sejpal: In your book, An Ordinary Person’s Guide to Empire (2004), you identify a few different pillars of empire: globalization and neoliberalism, militarism, and the corporate media. You write, “The project of corporate globalization has cracked the code of democracy. Free elections, a free press and an independent judiciary mean little when the free market has reduced them to commodities on sale to the highest bidder.” How would you update this today?

    Arundhati Roy: That was fourteen years ago! The updates now would include the ways in which big capital uses racism, caste-ism (the Hindu version of racism, more elaborate, and sanctioned by the holy books), and sexism and gender bigotry (sanctioned in almost every holy book) in intricate and extremely imaginative ways to reinforce itself, protect itself, to undermine democracy, and to splinter resistance. It doesn’t help that there has been a failure on the part of the left in general to properly address these issues. In India, caste—that most brutal system of social hierarchy—and capitalism have fused into a dangerous new alloy. It is the engine that runs modern India. Understanding one element of the alloy and not the other doesn’t help. Caste is not color-coded. If it were, if it were visible to the untrained eye, India would look very much like a country that practices apartheid.
    Another “update” that we ought to think about is that new technology could ensure that the world no longer needs a vast working class. What will then emerge is a restive population of people who play no part in economic activity—a surplus population if you like, one that will need to be managed and controlled. Our digital coordinates will ensure that controlling us is easy. Our movements, friendships, relationships, bank accounts, access to money, food, education, healthcare, information (fake, as well as real), even our desires and feelings—all of it is increasingly surveilled and policed by forces we are hardly aware of. How long will it be before the elite of the world feel that almost all the world’s problems could be solved if only they could get rid of that surplus population? If only they could delicately annihilate specific populations in specific ways—using humane and democratic methods, of course. Preferably in the name of justice and liberty. Nothing on an industrial scale, like gas chambers or Fat Men and Little Boys. What else are smart nukes and germ warfare for?

    AS: How does the rise of ethnonationalisms and populisms change your diagnosis?

    AR: Ethno-nationalism is only a particularly virulent strain of nationalism. Nationalism has long been part of the corporate global project. The freer global capital becomes, the harder national borders become. Colonialism needed to move large populations of people—slaves and indentured labor—to work in mines and on plantations. Now the new dispensation needs to keep people in place and move the money—so the new formula is free capital, caged labor. How else are you going to drive down wages and increase profit margins? Profit is the only constant. And it has worked to a point. But now capitalism’s wars for resources and strategic power (otherwise known as “just wars”) have destroyed whole countries and created huge populations of war refugees who are breaching borders. The specter of an endless flow of unwanted immigrants with the wrong skin color or the wrong religion is now being used to rally fascists and ethno-nationalists across the world. That candle is burning at both ends and down the middle, too. It cannot all be laid at the door of resource-plundering or strategic thinking. Eventually it develops a momentum and a logic of its own.

    As the storm builds, the ethno-nationalists are out harnessing the wind, giving each other courage. Israel has just passed a new bill that officially declares itself to be the national homeland of Jewish people, making its Arab citizenry second class. Unsurprising, but still, even by its own standards, pretty brazen. In the rest of the Middle East, of course, Israel and the United States are working hard at sharpening the Sunni–Shia divide, the disastrous end of which could be an attack on Iran. There are plans for Europe, too. Steve Bannon, a former aide of President Donald Trump, has started an organization, The Movement, headquartered in Brussels. The Movement aims to be “a clearing house for populist, nationalist movements in Europe.” It says it wants to bring about a “tectonic shift” in European politics. The idea seems to be to paralyze the European Union. A disintegrated EU would be a less formidable economic bloc, easier for the U.S. government to bully and bargain with. Yet, at the same time, uniting white supremacists in Europe and the United States is an attempt to help them to retain the power they feel is slipping away from them.

    Enough has been said about Trump’s immigration policies—the cages, the separation of infants and young children from their families—all of it just a little worse than what Barack Obama did during his presidency, to the sound of deafening silence. In India, too, the pin on the immigration grenade has just been pulled. In the spirit of the globalization of fascism, U.S. alt-right organizations are good friends of Hindu nationalists. Look to India, if you want to understand the world in microcosm. On July 30, 2018, the state of Assam published a National Register of Citizens (NRC). The register comes in lieu of a virtually nonexistent immigration policy. The NRC’s cut-off date of eligibility for Indian citizenship is 1971—the year that saw a massive influx of refugees from Bangladesh after the war with Pakistan. Most of them settled in Assam, which put enormous pressure on the local population, particularly on the most vulnerable indigenous communities. It led to escalating tensions, which have in the past boiled over into mass murder. In 1983 at least 2,000 Muslims were killed, with unofficial estimates putting the figure at five times that number. Now, at a time when Muslims are being openly demonized, and with the Hindu nationalist BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) in power, the unforgiveable policy lapse of half a decade is going to be addressed. The selection process, sifting through a population of millions of people who don’t all have “legacy papers”—birth certificates, identity papers, land records, or marriage certificates—is going to create chaos on an unimaginable scale. Four million people who have lived and worked in Assam for years, have been declared stateless—like the Rohingya of Burma were in 1982. They stand to lose homes and property that they have acquired over generations. Families are likely to be split up in entirely arbitrary ways. At best, they face the prospect of becoming a floating population of people with no rights, who will serve as pools of cheap labor. At worst, they could try and deport them to Bangladesh, which is unlikely to accept them. In the growing climate of suspicion and intolerance against Muslims, they could well suffer the fate of the Rohingya.

    The BJP has announced its plans to carry out this exercise in West Bengal, too. If that were ever to happen, tens of millions of people would be uprooted. That could easily turn into yet another Partition. Or even, heaven forbid, another Rwanda. It doesn’t end there. In the Muslim-majority State of Jammu and Kashmir, on the other hand, the BJP has declared that it wants to abrogate Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, which gives the state autonomous status and was the only condition under which it would accede to India in 1947. That means beginning a process of overwhelming the local population with Israeli-type settlements in the Kashmir Valley. Over the past thirty years, almost 70,000 people have died in Kashmir’s struggle for self-determination. Any move to eliminate Article 370 would be simply cataclysmic.

    Meanwhile vulnerable communities that have been oppressed, exploited, and excluded because of their identities—their caste, race, gender, religion, or ethnicity—are organizing themselves, too, along those very lines, to resist oppression and exclusion.
    While it is easy to take lofty moral positions, in truth, there is nothing simple about this problem. Because it is not a problem. It is a symptom of a great churning and a deep malaise. The assertion of ethnicity, race, caste, nationalism, sub-nationalism, patriarchy, and all kinds of identity, by exploiters as well as the exploited, has a lot—but of course not everything—to do with laying collective claim to resources (water, land, jobs, money) that are fast disappearing. There is nothing new here, except the scale at which its happening, the formations that keep changing, and the widening gap between what is said and what is meant. Few countries in the world stand to lose more from this way of thinking than India—a nation of minorities. The fires, once they start, could burn for a thousand years. If we go down this warren and choose to stay there, if we allow our imaginations to be trapped within this matrix, and come to believe there is no other way of seeing things, if we lose sight of the sky and the bigger picture, then we are bound to find ourselves in conflicts that spiral and spread and multiply and could very easily turn apocalyptic.

    AS: You once wrote that George W. Bush “achieved what writers, scholars, and activists have striven to achieve for decades. He has exposed the ducts. He has placed on full public view the working parts, the nuts and bolts of the apocalyptic apparatus of the American empire.” What did you mean by this, and ten years and two presidents later, is the American empire’s apocalyptic nature still so transparent?

    AR: I was referring to Bush’s unnuanced and not very intelligent commentary after the events of 9/11 and in the run-up to the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq. It exposed the thinking of the deep state in the United States. That transparency disappeared in the Obama years, as it tends to when Democrats are in power. In the Obama years, you had to ferret out information and piece it together to figure out how many bombs were being dropped and how many people were being killed, even as the acceptance speech for the Nobel Peace Prize was being eloquently delivered. However differently their domestic politics plays out on home turf, it is a truism that the Democrats’ foreign policy has tended to be as aggressive as that of the Republicans. But since 9/11, between Bush and Obama, how many countries have been virtually laid to waste? And now we have the era of Trump, in which we learn that intelligence and nuance are relative terms. And that W, when compared to Trump, was a serious intellectual. Now U.S. foreign policy is tweeted to the world on an hourly basis. You can’t get more transparent than that. The Absurd Apocalypse. Who would have imagined that could be possible? But it is possible—more than possible—and it will be quicker in the coming if Trump makes the dreadful mistake of attacking Iran.

    AS: There is a marked stylistic difference between your two novels, The God of Small Things and The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, published two decades apart. While both speak of politics and violence, the former is written in a style often described as lyrical realism. Beauty is one of its preoccupations, and it ends on a hopeful note. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, on the other hand, is a more urgent, fragmented, and bleak novel, where the losses are harder to sustain. Given the dominance of lyrical realism in the postcolonial and global novel, was your stylistic choice also a statement about the need to narrate global systems of domination differently? Is the novel an indirect call to rethink representation in Indian English fiction?

    AR: The God of Small Things and The Ministry of Utmost Happiness are different kinds of novels. They required different ways of telling a story. In both, the language evolved organically as I wrote them. I am not really aware of making “stylistic choices” in a conscious way. In The God of Small Things, I felt my way toward a language that would contain both English and Malayalam—it was the only way to tell that story of that place and those people. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness was a much riskier venture. To write it, I had to nudge the language of The God of Small Things off the roof of a very tall building, then rush down and gather up the shards. The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is written in English but imagined in many languages—Hindi, Urdu, English... I wanted to try and write a novel that was not just a story told through a few characters whose lives play out against a particular backdrop. I tried to imagine the narrative form of the novel as if it were one of the great metropoles in my part of the world—ancient, modern, planned and unplanned. A story with highways and narrow alleys, old courtyards, new freeways. A story in which you would get lost and have to find your way back. A story that a reader would have to live inside, not consume. A story in which I tried not to walk past people without stopping for a smoke and a quick hello. One in which even the minor characters tell you their names, their stories, where they came from, and where they wish to go.

    I agree, The Ministry of Utmost Happiness is fragmented, urgent—I love the idea of a novel written over almost ten years being urgent—but I wouldn’t call it bleak. Most of the characters, after all, are ordinary folks who refuse to surrender to the bleakness that is all around them, who insist on all kinds of fragile love and humor and vulgarity, which all thrive stubbornly in the most unexpected places. In the lives of the characters in both books, love, sorrow, despair, and hope are so tightly intertwined, and so transient, I am not sure I know which novel of the two is bleaker and which more hopeful.

    I don’t think in some of the categories in which your question is posed to me. For example, I don’t understand what a “global” novel is. I think of both my novels as so very, very local. I am surprised by how easily they have traveled across cultures and languages. Both have been translated into more than forty languages—but does that make them “global” or just universal? And then I wonder about the term postcolonial. I have often used it, too, but is colonialism really post-? Both novels, in different ways, reflect on this question. So many kinds of entrenched and unrecognized colonialisms still exist. Aren’t we letting them off the hook? Even “Indian English fiction” is, on the face of it, a pretty obvious category. But what does it really mean? The boundaries of the country we call India were arbitrarily drawn by the British. What is “Indian English”? Is it different from Pakistani English or Bangladeshi English? Kashmiri English? There are 780 languages in India, 22 of them formally “recognized.” Most of our Englishes are informed by our familiarity with one or more of those languages. Hindi, Telugu, and Malayalam speakers, for example, speak English differently. The characters in my books speak in various languages, and translate for and to each other. Translation, in my writing, is a primary act of creation. They, as well as the author, virtually live in the language of translation. Truly, I don’t think of myself as a writer of “Indian English fiction,” but as a writer whose work and whose characters live in several languages. The original is in itself part translation. I feel that my fiction comes from a place that is more ancient, as well as more modern and certainly less shallow, than the concept of nations.
    Is The Ministry of Utmost Happiness an indirect call to rethink representation in the Indian English novel? Not consciously, no. But an author’s conscious intentions are only a part of what a book ends up being. When I write fiction, my only purpose is to try and build a universe through which I invite readers to walk.

    AS: Toward the end of The Ministry of Utmost Happiness a character asks: “How to tell a shattered story?” The novel is teeming with characters whose lives have, in some way, been curtailed or marginalized by the limits of national imaginaries. And yet their stories are rich with humor, rage, agency, and vitality. How do you approach storytelling at a time when people are constantly being thwarted by the narratives of neo-imperial nation-states?

    AR: National imaginaries and nation-state narratives are only one part of what the characters in The Ministry of Utmost Happiness have to deal with. They also have to negotiate other stultified and limited kinds of imaginations—of caste, religious bigotry, gender stereotyping. Of myth masquerading as history, and of history masquerading as myth. It is a perilous business, and a perilous story to try to tell. In India today, storytelling is being policed not only by the state, but also by religious fanatics, caste groups, vigilantes, and mobs that enjoy political protection, who burn cinema halls, who force writers to withdraw their novels, who assassinate journalists. This violent form of censorship is becoming an accepted mode of political mobilization and constituency building. Literature, cinema, and art are being treated as though they are policy statements or bills waiting to be passed in Parliament that must live up to every self-appointed stakeholders’ idea of how they, their community, their history, or their country must be represented. Not surprisingly, bigotry of all kinds continues to thrive and be turned against those who do not have political backing or an organized constituency. I recently saw a Malayalam film in the progressive state of Kerala called Abrahaminde Santhathikal (The Sons of Abraham). The vicious, idiot-criminal villains were all black Africans. Given that there is no community of Africans in Kerala, they had to be imported into a piece of fiction in order for this racism to be played out! We can’t pin the blame for this kind of thing on the state. This is society. This is people. Artists, filmmakers, actors, writers—South Indians who are mocked by North Indians for their dark skins in turn humiliating Africans for the very same reason. Mind-bending.

    Trying to write, make films, or practice real journalism in a climate like this is unnerving. The hum of the approaching mob is like a permanent background score. But that story must also be told.
    How to tell a shattered story? is a question that one of the main characters in The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, Tilo—Tilotamma—who lives in an illegal Guest House in a Delhi graveyard, has scribbled in her notebook. She answers it herself: By slowly becoming everybody? No. By slowly becoming everything. Tilo is an architect, an archivist of peculiar things, a deathbed stenographer, a teacher, and the author of strange, unpublished tales. The scribble in her notebook is a contemplation about the people, animals, djinns, and spirits with whom she has ended up sharing her living quarters. Considering the debates swirling around us these days, Tilo would probably be severely rebuked for thinking in this way. She would be told that “slowly becoming everyone,” or, even worse, “everything,” was neither practical nor politically correct. Which is absolutely true. However, for a teller of stories, perhaps all that doesn’t matter. In times that are as crazy and as fractured as ours, trying “to slowly become everything” is probably a good place for a writer to start.

    AS: In addition to writing novels, you are also a prolific essayist and political activist. Do you see activism, fiction, and nonfiction as extensions of each other? Where does one begin and the other end for you?

    AR: I am not sure I have the stubborn, unwavering relentlessness it takes to make a good activist. I think that “writer” more or less covers what I do. I don’t actually see my fiction and nonfiction as extensions of each other. They are pretty separate. When I write fiction, I take my time. It is leisurely, unhurried, and it gives me immense pleasure. As I said, I try to create a universe for readers to walk through.

    The essays are always urgent interventions in a situation that is closing down on people. They are arguments, pleas, to look at something differently. My first political essay, “The End of Imagination,” was written after India’s 1998 nuclear tests. The second, “The Greater Common Good,” came after the Supreme Court lifted its stay on the building of the Sardar Sarovar Dam on the Narmada River. I didn’t know that they were just the beginning of what would turn out to be twenty years of essay writing. Those years of writing, traveling, arguing, being hauled up by courts, and even going to prison deepened my understanding of the land I lived in and the people I lived among, in ways I could not have imagined. That understanding built up inside me, layer upon layer.
    Had I not lived those twenty years the way I did, I would not have been able to write The Ministry of Utmost Happiness. But when I write fiction, unlike when I write political essays, I don’t write from a place of logic, reason, argument, fact. The fiction comes from years of contemplating that lived experience, turning it over and over until it appears on my skin like sweat. I write fiction with my skin. By the time I started to write The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, I felt like a sedimentary rock trying to turn itself into a novel.

    AS: In Power Politics (2001), you wrote: “It’s as though the people of India have been rounded up and loaded onto two convoys of trucks (a huge big one and a tiny little one) that have set off resolutely in opposite directions. The tiny convoy is on its way to a glittering destination somewhere near the top of the world. The other convoy just melts into the darkness and disappears. . . . For some of us, life in India is like being suspended between two of the trucks, one in each convoy, and being neatly dismembered as they move apart, not bodily, but emotionally and intellectually.” For nations around the world that have had abrupt and accelerated introductions to globalization and neoliberalism, would you say the convoy headed for the top of the world has crashed? And what has become of those who are being slowly dismembered?

    AR: It has not crashed yet. But its wheels are mired, and the engine is overheating.

    As for those who are being slowly pulled apart, they have been polarized and are preparing to dismember each other. Prime Minister Narendra Modi is the personification of what you could call corporate Hindu nationalism. Like most members of the BJP, he is a member of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), the Hindu nationalist cultural guild that is the most powerful organization in India today. The BJP is really just the political arm of the RSS. The aim of the RSS, which was founded in 1925, has long been to change the Indian constitution and to officially declare India a Hindu nation. Modi began his mainstream political career in October 2001, when his party installed him (unelected) as Chief Minister of the state of Gujarat. In February 2002 (at the height of post 9/11 international Islamophobia) came the Gujarat pogrom in which Muslims were massacred in broad daylight by mobs of Hindu vigilantes, and tens of thousands were driven from their homes. Within months of this, several heads of India’s major corporations publicly backed Modi, a man with no political track record, as their pick for prime minister. Perhaps this was because they saw in him a decisive and ruthless politician who could ram through new economic policies and snuff out the protests and the restlessness in the country that the Congress Party government seemed unable to deal with (meanwhile delaying the implementation of the hundreds of memorandums of understanding signed by the government with various corporate entities). It took twelve years; in May 2014, Modi became prime minister with a massive political majority in Parliament. He was welcomed onto the world’s stage by the international media and heads of state who believed he would make India a dream destination for international finance.

    Although his few years in power have seen his favorite corporations and the families of his close allies multiply their wealth several times over, Modi has not been the ruthless, efficient free marketeer that people had hoped for. The reasons for this have more to do with incompetence than with ideology. For example, late one night in November 2016, Modi appeared on TV and announced his policy of “demonetization.” From that moment, 80 percent of Indian currency notes were no longer legal tender. It was supposed to be a lightning strike on hoarders of “black money.” A country of more than a billion people ground to a halt. Nothing on this scale has ever been attempted by any government before. It was an act of hubris that belonged in a totalitarian dictatorship. For weeks together, daily wage workers, cab drivers, small shop keepers stood in long lines, hour upon hour, hoping to get their meager savings converted into new bank notes. All the currency, almost to the last rupee, “black” as well as “white,” was returned to the banks. Officially at least, there was no “black money.” It was a big-budget, razzle-dazzle flop.

    Demonetization and the chaotic new Goods and Services Tax have knocked the wind out of small businesses and ordinary people. For big investors, or for the most ordinary person, this sort of caprice on the part of a government that says it is “business-friendly” is lethal. It’s a bald declaration that its word cannot be trusted and is not legally binding.

    Demonetization also emptied the coffers of almost all political parties, since their unaccounted-for wealth is usually held in cash. The BJP, on the other hand, has mysteriously emerged as one of the richest, if not the richest, political party in the world. Hindu nationalism has come to power on mass murder and the most dangerously bigoted rhetoric that could—and has—ripped through the fabric of a diverse population. A few months ago, four of the most senior judges of the Supreme Court held a press conference in which they warned that democracy in India was in grave danger. Nothing like it has ever happened before. As hatred is dripped into peoples’ souls, every day, with sickened hearts we wake up to Muslim-lynching videos put up on YouTube by gloating vigilantes, news of Dalits being publicly flogged, of women and infants being raped, of thousands marching in support of people who have been arrested for rape, of those convicted for mass murder in the Gujarat pogrom being let out of jail while human rights defenders and thousands of indigenous people are in jail on charges of sedition, of children’s history textbooks being written by complete fools, of glaciers melting and of water tables plummeting just as fast as our collective IQ.
    But it is all OK, because we are buying more weapons from Europe and the United States than almost anyone else. So, India, which has the largest population of malnutritioned children in the world, where hundreds of thousands of debt-ridden farmers and farm laborers have committed suicide, where it is safer to be a cow than it is to be a woman, is still being celebrated as one of the fastest growing economies in the world.

    AS: The word “empire” has often been invoked as a uniquely European and U.S. problem. Do you see India and other postcolonial nations as adapting older forms of empire in new geopolitical clothing? In The Ministry of Utmost Happiness, you show us how the Indian government has developed strategies of surveillance and counterterrorism that are, to put it mildly, totalitarian in their scope. How can we think of empire now in the Global South, especially at a time when postcolonial nations are emulating the moral calculus of their old colonial masters?

    AR: It is interesting that countries that call themselves democracies— India, Israel, and the United States—are busy running military occupations. Kashmir is one of the deadliest and densest military occupations in the world. India transformed from colony to imperial power virtually overnight. There has not been a day since the British left India in August 1947 that the Indian army and paramilitary have not been deployed within the country’s borders against its “own people”: Mizoram, Manipur, Nagaland, Assam, Kashmir, Jammu, Hyderabad, Goa, Punjab, Bengal, and now Chhattisgarh, Orissa, Jharkhand. The dead number in the tens or perhaps hundreds of thousands. Who are these dangerous citizens who need to be held down with military might? They are indigenous people, Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, communists. The pattern that emerges is telling. What it shows quite clearly is an “upper”-caste Hindu state that views everyone else as an enemy. There are many who see Hinduism itself as a form of colonialism—the rule of Aryans over Dravidians and other indigenous peoples whose histories have been erased and whose deposed rulers have been turned into the vanquished demons and asuras of Hindu mythology. The stories of these battles continue to live on in hundreds of folktales and local village festivals in which Hinduism’s “demons” are other peoples’ deities. That is why I am uncomfortable with the word postcolonialism.

    AS: Talk of dissent and social justice has become mainstream in the age of Trump—but social media hashtags often stand in for direct action, and corporations frequently use the language of uplift and social responsibility while doubling down on unethical business practices. Has protest been evacuated of its potential today? And in such an environment, what kind of dissent is capable of cracking the edifice of empire?

    AR: You are right. Corporations are hosting happiness fairs and dissent seminars and sponsoring literature festivals in which free speech is stoutly defended by great writers. Dissent Is the Cool (and Corporate) New Way To Be. What can we do about that? When you think about the grandeur of the civil rights movement in the United States, the anti–Vietnam War protests, it makes you wonder whether real protest is even possible any more. It is. It surely is. I was in Gothenburg, Sweden, recently, when the largest Nazi march since World War II took place. The Nazis were outnumbered by anti-Nazi demonstrators, including the ferocious Antifa, by more than ten to one. In Kashmir, unarmed villagers face down army bullets. In Bastar, in Central India, the armed struggle by the poorest people in the world has stopped some of the richest corporations in their tracks. It is important to salute people’s victories, even if they don’t always get reported on TV. At least the ones we know about. Making people feel helpless, powerless, and hopeless is part of the propaganda.

    But what is going on in the world right now is coming from every direction and has already gone too far. It has to stop. But how? I don’t have any cure-all advice, really. I think we all need to become seriously mutinous. I think, at some point, the situation will become unsustainable for the powers that be. The tipping point will come. An attack on Iran, for example, might be that moment. It would lead to unthinkable chaos, and out of it something unpredictable would arise. The great danger is that, time and time again, the storm of rage that builds up gets defused and coopted into yet another election campaign. We fool ourselves into believing that the change we want will come with fresh elections and a new president or prime minister at the helm of the same old system. Of course, it is important to bounce the old bastards out of office and bounce new ones in, but that can’t be the only bucket into which we pour our passion. Frankly, as long as we continue to view the planet as an endless “resource,” as long as we uphold the rights of individuals and corporations to amass infinite wealth while others go hungry, as long as we continue to believe that governments do not have the responsibility to feed, clothe, house, and educate everyone—all our talk is mere posturing. Why do these simple things scare people so much? It is just common decency. Let’s face it: the free market is not free, and it doesn’t give a shit about justice or equality.

    AS: The vexed question of violent struggle against domination has come up at different moments in history. It has been debated in the context of Frantz Fanon’s writing, Gandhi, Black Lives Matter, Palestine, and the Naxalite movement, to name a few. It is a question that also comes up in your fiction and nonfiction. What do you make of the injunction against the use of violence in resistance from below?

    AR: I am against unctuous injunctions and prescriptions from above to resistance from below. That’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Oppressors telling the oppressed how they would like to be resisted? Fighting people will choose their own weapons. For me, the question of armed struggle versus passive resistance is a tactical one, not an ideological one. For example, how do indigenous people who live deep inside the forest passively resist armed vigilantes and thousands of paramilitary forces who surround their villages at night and burn them to the ground? Passive resistance is political theater. It requires a sympathetic audience. There isn’t one inside the forest. And how do starving people go on a hunger strike?

    In certain situations, preaching nonviolence can be a kind of violence. Also, it is the kind of terminology that dovetails beautifully with the “human rights” discourse in which, from an exalted position of faux neutrality, politics, morality, and justice can be airbrushed out of the picture, all parties can be declared human rights offenders, and the status quo can be maintained.

    AS: While this volume is called Evil Empire, a term borrowed from Ronald Reagan’s description of the Soviet Union, there are many who think of empire as the only sustainable administrative and political mechanism to manage large populations. How might we challenge dominant voices, such as Niall Ferguson, who put so much faith in thinking with the grain of empire? On the flipside, how might we speak to liberals who put their faith in American empire’s militarism in a post–9/11 era? Do you see any way out of the current grip of imperial thinking?

    AR: The “managed populations” don’t necessarily think from Ferguson’s managerial perspective. What the managers see as stability, the managed see as violence upon themselves. It is not stability that underpins empire. It is violence. And I don’t just mean wars in which humans fight humans. I also mean the psychotic violence against our dying planet.

    I don’t believe that the current supporters of empire are supporters of empire in general. They support the American empire. In truth, captalism is the new empire. Capitalism run by white capitalists. Perhaps a Chinese empire or an Iranian empire or an African empire would not inspire the same warm feelings? “Imperial thinking,” as you call it, arises in the hearts of those who are happy to benefit from it. It is resisted by those who are not. And those who do not wish to be.

    Empire is not just an idea. It is a kind of momentum. An impetus to dominate that contains within its circuitry the inevitability of overreach and self-destruction. When the tide changes, and a new empire rises, the managers will change, too. As will the rhetoric of the old managers. And then we will have new managers, with new rhetoric. And there will be new populations who rise up and refuse to be managed.

    http://bostonreview.net/literature-culture-global-justice/arundhati-roy-avni-sejpal-challenging-%E2%80%9Cpost-%E2%80%9D-postcolo
    #post-colonialisme #terminologie #mots #vocabulaire

    • A propos du #Cachemire (et un peu d’#israel aussi) :

      The BJP has announced its plans to carry out this exercise in West Bengal, too. If that were ever to happen, tens of millions of people would be uprooted. That could easily turn into yet another Partition. Or even, heaven forbid, another Rwanda. It doesn’t end there. In the Muslim-majority State of Jammu and Kashmir, on the other hand, the BJP has declared that it wants to abrogate Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, which gives the state autonomous status and was the only condition under which it would accede to India in 1947. That means beginning a process of overwhelming the local population with Israeli-type settlements in the Kashmir Valley. Over the past thirty years, almost 70,000 people have died in Kashmir’s struggle for self-determination. Any move to eliminate Article 370 would be simply cataclysmic.

      It is interesting that countries that call themselves democracies— India, Israel, and the United States—are busy running military occupations. Kashmir is one of the deadliest and densest military occupations in the world. India transformed from colony to imperial power virtually overnight.

      Et 6 mois plus tard :
      https://seenthis.net/messages/796004

      #Arundhati_Roy #Inde

    • peau noires ...

      I recently saw a Malayalam film in the progressive state of Kerala called Abrahaminde Santhathikal (The Sons of Abraham). The vicious, idiot-criminal villains were all black Africans. Given that there is no community of Africans in Kerala, they had to be imported into a piece of fiction in order for this racism to be played out! We can’t pin the blame for this kind of thing on the state. This is society. This is people. Artists, filmmakers, actors, writers—South Indians who are mocked by North Indians for their dark skins in turn humiliating Africans for the very same reason. Mind-bending.

      #racisme #Inde #Kerala

  • #Lampedusa è lo specchio dell’Italia

    Come racconta l’antropologo Marco Aime nel sul libro L’isola del non arrivo (Bollati Boringhieri 2018) i lampedusani hanno sempre denunciato la loro condizione d’isolamento e di abbandono da parte del governo, dovuta alla posizione remota dell’isola, più vicina alle coste nordafricane che a quelle italiane. Questo disinteresse è ciclicamente interrotto dall’improvviso emergere sulla scena di una nuova crisi, reale o strumentale, legata all’immigrazione e al controllo della frontiera. E ogni volta viene fatto un racconto dell’isola stereotipato in cui gli abitanti non si ritrovano. “Ognuno vive l’isola in maniera diversa, ma i mezzi d’informazione ne raccontano un solo volto, quello più spettacolare, più scenografico. Sì, perché Lampedusa è diventata l’isola degli sbarchi, e già il termine induce una certa ansia. ‘Sbarco’ evoca subito Normandia, Anzio, i garibaldini. A ‘sbarcare’ sono solitamente i nemici, gli eserciti. Invece qui la gente arriva, approda, naufraga, non sbarca”, scrive Aime nel suo libro.

    https://www.internazionale.it/opinione/annalisa-camilli/2019/07/05/lampedusa-italia-sea-watch
    #sbarco #sbarcare #terminologie #mots #peur #préjugés #terminologie #vocabulaire #débarquement #débarquement_de_Normandie #asile #migrations #réfugiés #Italie

  • #Hugues_MOUTOUH : « Le mot “#migrants” traduit un parti pris idéologique que nous devons refuser »

    Le terme de « migrants » s’est imposé dans le ­#discours public et désigne indistinctement des ­réalités très différentes. À la faveur de ce mot ­s’impose ­subrepticement une vision de l’immigration à l’opposé du vœu des Français, s’inquiète l’ancien préfet Hugues MOUTOUH.

    –-----------

    Depuis quelques années déjà, l’actualité européenne ne parle plus que d’eux. Ils font régulièrement la une des journaux télévisés, sont le sujet de nombreuses conférences intergouvernementales et la source de bien des brouilles diplomatiques. On dit même qu’ils pourraient achever de saper le projet européen, à force de mettre à l’épreuve la solidarité des États membres. Mais de qui parle-t-on ? Des « migrants », bien sûr.

    La France, comme les autres pays européens, n’échappe pas à la fameuse « crise migratoire ». Il suffit d’ouvrir n’importe quel journal de ces derniers jours pour s’en convaincre : « Loire-Atlantique : la préfète juge parfaitement insupportable l’existence d’un campement de migrants dans le centre de Nantes » ; « Nord : les autorités évacuent à nouveau le campement de migrants de Grande-Synthe, où vivent environ 500 personnes ».

    Pas une semaine sans que les mots de « migrant » ou de « migration » ne viennent alimenter les chroniques de presse ou déclarations des personnalités politiques. Tout ou presque sur ce sujet semble avoir été dit… excepté peut-être l’essentiel : pourquoi parle-t-on aujourd’hui de « migrants » et de « migrations » ?

    Ce vocable est nouveau dans la bouche des journalistes et des politiques. Voilà quelques années, les mêmes auraient décrit le phénomène auquel nous sommes actuellement confrontés avec des mots plus classiques. On aurait parlé de #réfugiés, de vagues d’immigrés ou de #clandestins, selon le point de vue adopté. Entre hier et aujourd’hui, les réalités que désignent ces mots n’ont pas changé. Des personnes quittent leurs pays, toujours pour des raisons identiques : la guerre, la famine, ou, le plus souvent, l’espérance d’une vie meilleure plus au nord. En fin de compte, la seule vraie nouveauté est d’ordre sémantique. Dorénavant, d’Emmanuel MACRON à Marine LE PEN, en passant par Jean-Luc MÉLENCHON, un même mot est utilisé pour désigner la chose. Exit la figure de « l’#immigré » ! Dépassé, le débat sur « l’#immigration ». C’est du « migrant » dont il est question.

    « La seule vraie nouveauté est d’ordre sémantique »

    Cette évolution du langage n’est ni anodine ni innocente. On sait qu’en politique, plus que dans n’importe quel autre domaine, les mots ont un sens. Chaque époque conditionne ainsi, à travers les mots que l’on emploie, ce qu’il est possible et acceptable de dire.

    Ce n’est ni par anti-modernisme ou simple esprit de réaction que, pour notre part, nous pensons préférable de reparler en 2018 d’« #immigration ». C’est parce que, selon nous, seul l’emploi de ce terme permet de traiter du sujet comme il devrait l’être : uniquement sous l’angle #politique et non à travers un prisme déformant, exclusivement #humanitaire. Nul ne peut contester à un pays le droit de contrôler en toute #souveraineté son immigration. Il n’y a là aucune question #morale, juste un peu de #droit au service d’une politique nationale. L’immigré est l’#étranger qu’un État accepte d’accueillir sur son sol pendant une durée déterminée, à la condition qu’il se conforme aux règles d’entrée et de séjour qui lui sont signifiées. Lorsqu’il se trouve en situation irrégulière, il n’a vocation ni à entrer ni à demeurer sur le territoire de cet État. Les cas des #demandeurs_d’asile_sincères appellent un traitement particulier, mais le détournement du droit d’asile en filière d’#immigration_illégale doit cesser.

    Or, dès lors que l’on parle de « migrants » et de « migration », les termes du débat se trouvent faussés. S’installe alors, au profit de ces mêmes étrangers, une présomption de #devoir_d’accueil, avec un renversement inédit de la #charge_de_la_preuve : les gouvernants se retrouvent sommés de s’expliquer devant le tribunal de l’opinion. Ils doivent se justifier de ne pas accueillir chaque jour toujours plus de « migrants », qui semblent se voir reconnu (par qui et au nom de quoi ?) un véritable droit de créance sur les États européens, une sorte d’incroyable et de terrible #pouvoir_d’exiger.

    Refuser de parler de « migrants » est donc tout sauf une #coquetterie_langagière. C’est un véritable #acte_de_résistance, le refus de reconnaissance à notre encontre d’une #dette positive pesant sur nos épaules et surtout celles des générations futures. Non, les « migrants » qui sont convoyés par les nouvelles mafias, avec le concours irresponsable (mais pas toujours naïf) de quelques #ONG, ne peuvent exiger de la France, de l’Allemagne ou de l’Italie tout un ensemble de prestations qui vont du droit à l’accueil et à l’assistance au droit au logement, en passant par le droit au travail ou à l’instruction.

    Qui ne comprend qu’accepter de parler de « migration » revient non seulement à faire le jeu de ceux qui militent depuis toujours pour l’abolition des frontières et la fin des nations, mais donne aussi le sentiment que l’Europe est une terre à conquérir ? Pour concevoir et faire appliquer une politique en matière d’immigration, il faut d’abord mener la bataille des mots.

    https://www.association-iceo.fr/actualite-par-thematiques/opinion/hugues-moutouh-le-mot-migrants-traduit-un-parti-pris-ideologique-qu
    #terminologie #mots #vocabulaire #asile #migrations #réfugiés #migrant

    –------------

    Le collègue qui m’a envoyé ce texte par email a commenté ainsi :

    Quand on entre dans ce niveau d’approche sémantique, cela ouvre l’attention ? Quand on voit un Préfet parler des « des journalistes et des politiques », ca sent toujours le roussi. A mon avis, il y a un là un personnage intéressant pour comprendre comment la « #peste_brune » pénètre les services de l’État.

    https://www.association-iceo.fr/actualite-par-thematiques/opinion/hugues-moutouh-le-mot-migrants-traduit-un-parti-pris-ideologique-qu

    ping @karine4 @reka @isskein

    Notez ce magnifique terme :
    "#demandeurs_d’asile_sincères" —> @sinehebdo
    #sincérité (et donc #mensonge #abus, vrais et faux réfugiés, #catégorisation)

  • Nouveau mot sur seenthis pour définir les personnes en mobilité: #transitanti

    ... que je signale pour la liste de @sinehebdo

    #transitants #migrations #asile #réfugiés #mots #terminologie #vocabulaire

    Sources:
    Il modello di accoglienza dei migranti a Milano è in crisi?

    –----------------

    Il transito di centinaia di migliaia di persone intorno alla stazione centrale aveva portato all’apertura di un hub – un centro di prima accoglienza per transitanti – nell’ottobre del 2013 prima all’interno della stazione, poi in via Tonale e quindi, dal maggio del 2016, in via Sammartini.

    https://www.internazionale.it/notizie/annalisa-camilli/2017/05/14/milano-migranti-blitz

    –-----------

    Quelli che se ne vogliono andare. Ecco chi sono gli immigrati «transitanti»
    https://www.redattoresociale.it/article/notiziario/ef5e774a-4b52-4d4e-bff2-f092440314ce

  • Féminicide : pourquoi la France a-t-elle tant de mal à reconnaître ce terme ? - ChEEk Magazine
    http://cheekmagazine.fr/societe/feminicide-violences-femmes

    “Les violences masculines sont souvent minimisées, comme si ce qui était en jeu était de l’amour, de la passion et non pas des violences et des inégalités. C’est une manière de diviser les #femmes si on ne montre pas l’accumulation et le lien entre ces #violences”, relève Raphaëlle Rémy-Leleu.

    En 2016, le collectif Prenons la Une a élaboré une charte à l’attention des rédactions et des journalistes “pour permettre un traitement journalistique le plus juste possible” des violences contre les femmes. Les onze recommandations s’inspirent d’une autre charte créée par Pilar Lopez Diez, professeure et chercheuse espagnole. “En Espagne, ça a très bien marché, relève Sophie Gourion. Plus aucun journaliste n’oserait parler de crime passionnel.” Un changement de pratique radical qui est encore loin d’être observé en France.

    #féminicide #journalisme #droit

  • Facebook , gangster aux 55 milliards de dollars Pia de Quatrebarbes - 21 Juin 2019 - Solidaire
    https://www.solidaire.org/articles/facebook-gangster-aux-55-milliards-de-dollars

    Un chiffre d’affaire de plus de 55 milliards de dollars en 2018 : en quinze ans, le réseau aux 2,2 milliards « d’amis » a engrangé un paquet de fric sur nos informations, quitte à s’asseoir sur quelques lois. Un « #gangster_numérique », a tranché le parlement britannique dans un rapport au vitriol... Comment le réseau social qui voulait « rendre le monde meilleur » en est-il arrivé la ?


    Photo Wachiwit /iStock

    En 2008, quand Facebook débarque en France, c’est la ruée sur les « murs ». On y voit alors un formidable moyen de communiquer, partager des photos, personne ne s’y informe encore, mais on y dissémine naïvement des informations aux quatre vents : scolarité, opinion, statut amoureux....et déjà on #like. Rien de grave a priori, #Mark_Zuckerberg, le concepteur du réseau souhaite alors « rendre le monde meilleur ». Pas « le conquérir, seulement rendre les gens plus ouverts et connectés ».

    L’histoire est typique des innovations du web. 4 ans auparavant, dans sa chambre de Harvard, à Boston, le petit génie veut rencontrer des filles, il crée alors avec des camarades un #trombinoscope des étudiants, « The Facebook ». Les universités américaines s’y branchent, puis les lycées et collèges – Il suffit d’avoir 13 ans et une adresse mail. Et bientôt le monde entier : 2,2 milliards d’utilisateurs, un chiffre d’affaires de 55 milliards de dollars, et le 3e site internet le plus visité.

    De ses utilisateurs, il sait à peu près tout !
    Mais 15 ans après, sa firme est devenue un « gangster numérique au dessus des lois ». La sentence est venue mi-février de la Commission du numérique, de la culture et des médias du #Parlement_britannique. Pendant 18 mois, elle a planché sur le scandale #Cambridge_Analytica. Une centaine de témoins ont été auditionnés, mais le PDG de Facebook, lui, a refusé... A la lecture des 110 pages, on comprend pourquoi et comment #Mark_Zuckerberg a choisi « le profit avant la vie privée ».

    Comprenons bien : Que Facebook sait-il de ses utilisateurs ? A peu près tout ! « La pratique la plus problématique, c’est la captation systématique de nos données personnelles », explique Sylvain Steer, enseignant en droit et membre de l’association la Quadrature du Net. Pour les « amis », ce sont donc les contenus publics, les messages privés sur #Messenger, la listes des personnes, pages et groupes suivis, la façon dont on utilise le service et accède aux contenus et les informations sur l’appareil (adresse IP, fichiers présents, mouvements de la souris, accès au GPS et à l’appareil photo).

    Pour ceux qui n’ont pas de compte, la firme de Palo Alto a la solution : le « profil fantôme ». Les #cookies, les boutons « J’aime » et « Partager » affichés sur de nombreux sites, transmettent à Facebook les informations de navigation... En bref, Facebook s’accorde un pouvoir de surveillance de masse.

    Et quand Mark Zuckerberg répète à tout va, « Facebook ne vend pas les données », le parlement Britannique répond : il ment. En cause, le modèle économique : « la gratuité » pour l’utilisateur contre la monétisation de ses données. « Facebook vend aux annonceurs des catégories de publicité. Ce sont l’ensemble des caractéristiques sociales, économiques et comportementales que le réseau associe à chaque utilisateur afin de mieux le cibler », explique Sylvain Steer. « Avec l’argument fallacieux que c’est pour nous proposer des contenus de la façon la plus adaptée : sous entendu la plus subtile ». Facebook est donc avant tout « une #régie_publicitaire », analyse Yann Le Pollotech, chargé des questions numériques au PCF. 98 % de son chiffre d’affaires mondial provient de la publicité ciblée.

    L’accès aux données des téléphones
    Le réseau ouvre aussi ses données à des développeurs tiers contre rémunération « 250 000 dollars de publicités par an », écrivait le PDG dans un mail obtenu par les parlementaires britanniques. Facebook nie, explique que l’idée n’avait jamais été appliquée. En 2015, pourtant il restreint l’accès sauf pour une liste de 150 entreprises, dont Apple, Amazon, Netflix, ou Airbnb ou encore le site de rencontre #Tinder. Et là, c’est open bar ! Et Zuckerberg écrivait : « je ne vois pas de cas où des données ont été diffusées de développeurs à développeurs et ont causé un réel problème pour nous »... Raté ! 3 ans après, Cambridge Analytica allait prouver le contraire. La société, basée à Londres, a siphonné les données de 87 millions de comptes. La cheville ouvrière de la campagne numérique de Donald Trump en 2016, a réalisé un micro ciblage des électeurs.

    Parmi les autres pépites du rapport : l’accès aux données des téléphones. En 2015, la nouvelle version de l’application sur mobiles #Android pouvait avoir accès au journal des appels téléphoniques. Un cadre de Facebook s’inquiète dans un mail interne que les utilisateurs s’en rendent compte. « Ça serait très risqué : des journalistes (..) qui écrivent des articles sur “Facebook qui utilise sa mise à jour pour espionner votre vie privée” », écrit le cadre. Car le but de la firme, est bel et bien de tout savoir.... Pour cela, il faut capturer l’utilisateur et faire en sorte qu’il y reste. Et le pousser à partager toujours plus d’informations.

    Les #Fake_News rentrent dans cette catégorie. C’est parce qu’elles sont beaucoup plus partagées que Facebook les laisse se propager... Le sociologue Dominique Cardon limite leur portée dans un livre salvateur (1). Pendant la campagne américaine, ces « fake news » ont été le plus consultées par les 10% des électeurs les plus convaincus, y écrit-il. Pour Yann Le Pollotech aussi, « il faut se méfier de ce concept. Depuis que les hommes communiquent, il y a de la #désinformation. Mais ici, il y a aussi une sorte de racisme social : les fake news ne concerneraient que les moins diplômés.. et les gilets jaunes ! A chacun ses Fakes news ; celle des #CSP_+ [cadres supérieurs, NdlR], c’est que les cheminots partent à la retraite à 50 ans avec un pont d’or. Mais ce n’est pas à Facebook de décider ce qui est de l’ordre du complot ou de la #vérité. La seule manière de les éviter : c’est la délibération, le débat démocratique ».

    Mais ce n’est pas le programme du géant. Lui, il a un autre objectif : « enfermer les internautes dans son monde, son univers. Plus que du gangster, cela relève de la #mafia, au sens où c’est aussi une organisation sociale », continue Yann Le Pollotech. Dans ce système, Facebook compte aussi la messagerie #Whatsapp (1,5 milliard d’utilisateurs) et le site de partage de photos et vidéos #Instagram (1 milliard). Et avec elles, toutes leurs données ! En 2014, au moment du rachat de Whatsapp pour 19 milliards de dollars, Zuckerberg promettait « de ne pas combiner les données des comptes Facebook et Whatsapp. Bien sûr, il l’a fait deux ans après », continue Sylvain Steer.

    Depuis les scandales continuent : le 20 mars, Facebook reconnaissait ne pas protéger les #mots_de_passe de centaines de millions de comptes. En février, d’autres applications donnaient accès à Facebook à leurs données : une application pour suivre son cycle menstruel, de sport, de santé... En septembre, 50 millions de comptes étaient piratées.

    Un modèle basé sur l’illégalité
    Que font les législateurs ? En Europe, ils ont franchi une première étape avec le Règlement général pour la protection des données ( #RGPD ), entré en vigueur le 28 mai dernier. Ce dernier impose des formes de consentement éclairé et libre. Mais « Facebook continue de violer les textes, car tout son modèle économique est illégal », rappelle Sylvain Steer. Une plainte collective a été déposée, la CNIL Irlandaise – là où est le siège social de Facebook en Europe- l’examine. Sauf qu’elle prend son temps. « Bien sûr, Facebook comme les autres, fait un lobbying pour retarder sa mise en conformité et prolonger son business », continue-t-il.

    Le Parlement britannique veut la fin du far west... Sauf que Facebook, comme #Google « à force de ne pas être réglementés, se sont imposés comme des autorités centralisatrices sur internet. Les États au lieu de le limiter, continuent à lui déléguer des pouvoirs ». La France en tête, « les gouvernements, demandent à ces plateformes géantes de devenir juges et modérateurs des contenus en ligne. Ce qui devrait être de l’ordre de la justice ou du service public », poursuit Sylvain Steer ... Ou comment les gouvernements donnent à Facebook les clés de la censure. Zuckerberg, lui, s’excuse, encore une fois, et promet « de changer ». En attendant, le nombre d’utilisateurs recule, les jeunes désertent la plateforme... Mais pour Instagram. Et restent ainsi dans le monde clos de Facebook.

    Culture numérique, Dominique Cardon, Les presses de Sciences Po, sorti en février, 19 euros, 428 pages
    (Article paru dans le journal L’Humanité -Dimanche du 28 mars 2019)

    #facebook #surveillance #internet #algorithme #censure #réseaux_sociaux #publicité #données #bigdata #profiling #manipulation #marketing #domination #web #voleur de vies #escroc #gangster #fric

    • UN expert condemns failure to address impact of climate change on poverty

      Climate change will have the greatest impact on those living in poverty, but also threatens democracy and human rights, according to a UN expert.

      “Even if current targets are met, tens of millions will be impoverished, leading to widespread displacement and hunger,” said the UN Special Rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights, Philip Alston, in a report released today.

      “Climate change threatens to undo the last 50 years of progress in development, global health, and poverty reduction,” Alston said. “It could push more than 120 million more people into poverty by 2030 and will have the most severe impact in poor countries, regions, and the places poor people live and work.”

      Even the unrealistic best-case scenario of 1.5°C of warming by 2100 will see extreme temperatures in many regions and leave disadvantaged populations with food insecurity, lost incomes, and worse health. Many will have to choose between starvation and migration.

      “Perversely, while people in poverty are responsible for just a fraction of global emissions, they will bear the brunt of climate change, and have the least capacity to protect themselves,” Alston said. “We risk a ‘climate apartheid’ scenario where the wealthy pay to escape overheating, hunger, and conflict while the rest of the world is left to suffer.”

      Climate change has immense, but largely neglected, implications for human rights. The rights to life, food, housing, and water will be dramatically affected. But equally importantly will be the impact on democracy, as governments struggle to cope with the consequences and to persuade their people to accept the major social and economic transformations required. “In such a setting, civil and political rights will be highly vulnerable,” the Special Rapporteur said.

      “Most human rights bodies have barely begun to grapple with what climate change portends for human rights, and it remains one on a long laundry list of ‘issues’, despite the extraordinarily short time to avoid catastrophic consequences,” Alston said. “As a full-blown crisis that threatens the human rights of vast numbers of people bears down, the usual piecemeal, issue-by-issue human rights methodology is woefully insufficient.”

      Sombre speeches by government officials at regular conferences are not leading to meaningful action. “States have marched past every scientific warning and threshold, and what was once considered catastrophic warming now seems like a best-case scenario,” Alston said. “Even today, too many countries are taking short-sighted steps in the wrong direction.”

      States are failing to meet even their current inadequate commitments to reduce carbon emissions and provide climate financing, while continuing to subsidise the fossil fuel industry with $5.2 trillion per year.

      “Maintaining the current course is a recipe for economic catastrophe,” Alston said. “Economic prosperity and environmental sustainability are fully compatible but require decoupling economic well-being and poverty reduction from fossil fuel emissions.”

      This transition will require robust policies at the local level to support displaced workers and ensure quality jobs. “A robust social safety net will be the best response to the unavoidable harms that climate change will bring,” Alston said. “This crisis should be a catalyst for states to fulfil long ignored and overlooked economic and social rights, including to social security and access to food, healthcare, shelter, and decent work.”

      Although some have turned to the private sector for solutions, an overreliance on for-profit efforts would nearly guarantee massive human rights violations, with the wealthy catered to and the poorest left behind. “If climate change is used to justify business-friendly policies and widespread privatisation, exploitation of natural resources and global warming may be accelerated rather than prevented,” Alston said.

      “There is no shortage of alarm bells ringing over climate change, and an increase in biblical-level extreme weather events appear to be finally piercing through the noise, misinformation, and complacency, but these positive signs are no reason for contentment,” Alston said. “A reckoning with the scale of the change that is needed is just the first step.”

      https://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEvents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=24735&LangID=E

      #pauvreté

      #Rapport:

      Climate change and poverty

      Climate change will have devastating consequences for people in poverty. Even under the best-case scenario, hundreds of millions will face food insecurity, forced migration, disease, and death. Climate change threatens the future of human rights and risks undoing the last fifty years of progress in development, global health, and poverty reduction.
      Staying the course will be disastrous for the global economy and pull vast numbers into poverty. Addressing climate change will require a fundamental shift in the global economy, decoupling improvements in economic well-being from fossil fuel emissions. It is imperative this is done in a way that provides necessary support, protects workers, and creates decent work.
      Governments, and too many in the human rights community, have failed to seriously address climate change for decades. Somber speeches by government officials have not led to meaningful action and too many countries continue taking short-sighted steps in the wrong direction. States are giving only marginal attention to human rights in the conversation on climate change.
      Although climate change has been on the human rights agenda for well over a decade, it remains a marginal concern for most actors. Yet it represents an emergency without precedent and requires bold and creative thinking from the human rights community, and a radically more robust, detailed, and coordinated approach.

      https://www.ohchr.org/EN/HRBodies/HRC/RegularSessions/Session41/Documents/A_HRC_41_39.docx
      #pauvreté
      ping @reka

  • #Mauritanie : 60000 #réfugiés_maliens vivent dans le #camp de #Mbera

    Ils sont #peuls, #touaregs ou #arabes et viennent tous du Mali. Certains fuyant les violences des groupes jihadistes, d’autres celles de l’armée malienne. Depuis 2012, ce sont près de 60 000 réfugiés qui ont élu domicile dans le camp de Mbera, en Mauritanie. Et qui ne sont pas prêts à refranchir la frontière.

    « Nous allons relever sept données biométriques, ce qui nous garantit demain que quiconque ne peut plus se présenter sous cette identité. » Ici, nous sommes au #centre_d’enregistrement du #HCR, le Haut-Commissariat aux réfugiés des Nations unies. Passage obligé pour tout demandeur d’asile.

    Ses #empreintes_digitales, Hamady Ba, 40 ans, les a données il y a quatre ans déjà. Il a fui les persécutions contre les peuls au Mali. « J’ai vu des exactions de la part de l’armée, raconte-t-il. Ils rentraient dans notre village, prenaient des gens, les attachaient, et les frappaient. C’est pour ça que j’ai fui. »

    Zeïna, elle, est arrivée il y a quatre mois à peine. À dos de mulet, pour fuir les jihadistes. Et il n’est pas question de repartir. « On a vraiment essayé de supporter cette situation, mais c’était trop. J’ai décidé de prendre mes enfants pour arrêter d’entendre le bruit des armes, confie-t-elle. J’ai été obligé de fuir, mais je ne supportais vraiment plus cette situation. »

    Sous sa tente bien tenue, mais rudimentaire, Sidi Mohamed est un habitué du camp. En 1991 déjà, il avait trouvé refuge ici. À 70 ans, il a encore de l’espoir. « Chaque prière que je fais, je prie Dieu pour que la paix revienne au Mali et dans le monde. En dehors de tout ça, on veut juste vivre avec dignité », dit-il.

    Le mois dernier, environ 300 réfugiés ont décidé de retourner tenter leur chance au Mali. Contre l’avis du HCR, qui estime que la situation n’est pas prête à se stabiliser.

    http://www.rfi.fr/afrique/20190603-reportage-mauritanie-60000-refugies-maliens-vivent-le-camp-mbera
    #réfugiés #asile #migrations #camps_de_réfugiés #retour_au_pays

    Notez que le titre du sujet parle de #camps , alors que le HCR parle de #centre_d’enregistrement ...
    #cpa_camps #terminologie #vocabulaire #mots

  • 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.”

    https://www.latimes.com/opinion/op-ed/la-oe-katz-immigrant-concentration-camps-20190609-story.html
    #terminologie #vocabulaire #mots #camps #camps_de_concentration #centres_de_détention #détention_administrative #rétention #USA #Etats-Unis
    #cpa_camps

    • ‘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?

      https://www.nybooks.com/daily/2019/06/21/some-suburb-of-hell-americas-new-concentration-camp-system

    • #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 ».

      https://www.lemonde.fr/international/article/2019/06/19/alexandria-ocasio-cortez-engage-le-bras-de-fer-avec-la-politique-migratoire-