• Farandole d’activités féministe & anti-nucléaire à #Bure
    https://expansive.info/Farandole-d-activites-feministe-anti-nucleaire-a-Bure-en-mixite-choisie-

    Du 24 février au 1er mars, nous vous invitons à continuer de nous questionner, nous rencontrer, nous renforcer et à imaginer plein de belles idées pour la suite du monde. En mixité choisie sans hommes cisgenres*. Et pour cela, nous vous invitons, à Bure, à l’endroit même où l’ANDRA est en train d’avancer ses pions pour la création du projet CIGEO d’enfouissement de déchets nucléaires. #Ailleurs

    / #Aménagement_du_territoire, #Ecologie, #Féminismes_-_Genres_-_Sexualités, Bure, Anti-capitalisme & Multinationale, #Stop_Bure

    #Anti-capitalisme_&_Multinationale

  • Opinion | Bloomberg’s Bogus, Belated Mea Culpa - The New York Times
    https://www.nytimes.com/2019/11/17/opinion/bloomberg-stop-and-frisk.html

    Ca, c’est de l’édito... et la leçon vaut largement au delà des Etats-Unis

    Last Sunday I wrote a column entitled “You Must Never Vote for Bloomberg” because of Michael Bloomberg’s promotion, advocacy and defense of the racist stop-and-frisk policy that ballooned during his terms as mayor of New York City.

    This Sunday, Bloomberg apologized for that policy.

    Speaking at the Christian Cultural Center, a black megachurch in Brooklyn, Bloomberg said:

    “Over time, I’ve come to understand something that I long struggled to admit to myself: I got something important wrong. I got something important really wrong. I didn’t understand that back then the full impact that stops were having on the black and Latino communities. I was totally focused on saving lives, but as we know, good intentions aren’t good enough. Now, hindsight is 20/20. But, as crime continued to come down as we reduced stops, and as it continued to come down during the next administration, to its credit, I now see that we could and should have acted sooner and acted faster to cut the stops. I wish we had. I’m sorry that we didn’t. But, I can’t change history. However today, I want you to know that I realize back then I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

    This is a necessary apology, but a hard one to take, coming only now, as he considers a run for the Democratic nomination, a nomination that is nearly impossible to secure without the black vote.

    It feels like the very definition of pandering.

    It is impossible for me to take seriously Bloomberg’s claim that he didn’t understand the impact that stop-and-frisk was having on the black and brown communities when he was in office.

    Too much was written about it, by me and others. Too much was studied about it. Too many civil rights activists and groups complained about it.

    No, I believe that he knew very well, and understood clearly, the pain that he was causing, but he was making a collateral damage argument: Because there was crime and many of those committing those crimes were born with black or brown skin, all those with that skin should be presumed guilty until proven innocent.

    That feels like the very definition of racism.

    It is important to remember that racism can exist in the absence of malice, that this dragnet presumption of guilt, even if well intentioned, amounted to a systemic racism to which Bloomberg was not only apathetic, but zealous about.

    It is also hard to take his apology seriously because as recently as January he was still vigorously defending the policy, making the incredulous and insulting claim that during the execution of stop-and-frisk “we certainly did not pick somebody by race.”

    It’s hard to take it seriously because as The New York Post reported Sunday, the Police Benevolent Association president, Patrick Lynch, slammed Bloomberg’s convenient apology, saying, “Mayor Bloomberg could have saved himself this apology if he had just listened to the police officers on the street.” He continued:

    “We said in the early 2000s that the quota-driven emphasis on street stops was polluting the relationship between cops and our communities. His administration’s misguided policy inspired an anti-police movement that has made cops the target of hatred and violence, and stripped away many of the tools we had used to keep New Yorkers safe.”

    Bloomberg is no dummy. He knew the statistics. He knew that the vast majority of the people being stopped were black and brown and that the vast majority were innocent. He knew. And yet, he kept the system and defended it.

    This was a maximum pressure campaign targeted against black and brown communities, an intimidation tactic to signal constant surveillance and random checks. These whole communities were under siege, and it not only did lasting damage to the relationship between those communities and the Police Department, it accrued immeasurable psychological damage to an entire generation of black and brown boys and men.

    Bloomberg’s cynicism here is staggering.

    But, this is something that black voters must contend with: politicians who do harm through policy to black communities, then come forward with admissions and contrition when they need black people’s votes.

    I haven’t forgotten that it was just this year, as he was about to enter the race, that Joe Biden finally offered a full apology for the disastrous 1994 crime bill that wreaked havoc on the black community, after having defended the bill for years. Biden offered his apology at the National Action Network’s Martin Luther King Jr. breakfast.

    Bloomberg needed to apologize. But the apology is not for the sake of the hundreds of thousands of young black and brown men subjected to his millions of stops. There, the damage is done. The grip of a strange man’s hands, with the power of a badge and gun, groping their bodies will stay with them. The personal, physical trauma and violation that he endorsed will linger for a lifetime.

    Bloomberg needed to apologize so that the truth could be told: New York violated the rights and bodies of a generation of black and brown boys and men at the eager, willful insistence of its mayor.

    Black voters — and all Democratic voters — must ask themselves: Is Bloomberg the antidote to what ails America on race and criminal justice, or is he one of its vectors?

    #USA #Racisme #Stop_and_frisk #Michael_Bloomberg

  • Les conquérants éoliens ont ouvert un nouveau front. Leur force économique, la vénalité de nombre d’élus et propriétaires, la passivité extraordinaire de la majorité des Haut-Marnaises et Haut-Marnais, le concours objectif des médias, etc., facilitent grandement l’occupation industrielle, À VIE, de notre territoire.

    Mais le dernier mot est-il dit ? L’espérance doit-elle disparaître ? La défaite est-elle définitive ? Non ! Quoi qu’il arrive, la Flamme de la résistance Haut-Marnaise ne doit pas s’éteindre et ne s’éteindra pas.

    Il y a urgence à se mobiliser, tous ENSEMBLE ! Chaque retard augmente les dégâts pour l’environnement et les souffrances pour les êtres vivants, volants ou non..

    https://augustinmassin.blogspot.com/2019/10/haute-marne-neuvelle-les-voisey-cest.html
    #Stopeolien

  • Maine et Loire, Le-Bourg-d’Iré : un village résiste vaillamment à un projet éolien, le FILM
    Christophe Delire

    Le village du Bourg-d’Iré se bat contre un projet éolien, il défend vaillamment ses châteaux, son économie touristique, ses acteurs de territoire, ses paysages et sa faune.

    Ce film de Christophe Delire a été présenté jeudi 10 octobre 2019 devant les conseillers municipaux de Segré-en-Anjou-Bleu, agglomérat de 15 communes.

    Voir
    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H9TEyGchye8&feature=youtu.be

    « Les besoins d’un être humain sont sacrés. Leur satisfaction ne peut être subordonnée ni à la Raison d’État, ni à aucune considération soit d’argent, soit de nationalité, soit de race, soit de couleur, ni à la valeur morale ou autre attribuée à la personne considérée, ni à aucune condition quelle qu’elle soit."
    Simone Weil, l’enracinement 1949

    https://augustinmassin.blogspot.com/2019/10/maine-et-loire-le-bourg-dire-un-village.html

    #Stopeolien

  • Découvrir | #StopBlues
    https://stopblues.fr

    StopBlues est financé entièrement sur des fonds publics et n’a aucun lien avec des industriels de la santé et du médicament. Il est développé par une équipe de recherche de l’INSERM en collaboration avec des professionnels de #santé et des personnes comme vous qui ont accepté de partager leur expérience.

    Vous pouvez également retrouver gratuitement l’application mobile pour iPhone et Androïd sur l’Apple Store et Google Store.

  • La vidéo complète démontre le montage politique lors de la « perquisition » du siège de la France Insoumise par le régime Macron et son appareil médiatique. - INITIATIVE COMMUNISTE
    https://www.initiative-communiste.fr/articles/luttes/la-video-complete-demontre-le-montage-politique-lors-de-la-per

    Nul besoin d’être politiquement en accord avec la France Insoumise pour analyser ce que démontrent ces images qui doivent alerter tous ceux soucieux des libertés démocratiques.

  • Depuis mercredi matin, l’arboriste militant Tarnais, Thomas Brail campe dans un arbre à Paris, devant le Ministère de la Transition écologique.
    Il entend ainsi attirer l’attention de tous sur ces #arbres abattus illégalement par les élus locaux et obtenir l’assurance d’Élisabeth Borne que dorénavant la loi sera respectée et les arbres des villes et villages sauvés.
    Il a besoin de #mobilisation_citoyenne #Stop_Ecocide #Save_The_Trees https://youtu.be/3yl4hVMSmbI

  • For Syrians in #Istanbul, fears rise as deportations begin

    Turkey is deporting Syrians from Istanbul to Syria, including to the volatile northwest province of #Idlib, according to people who have been the target of a campaign launched last week against migrants who lack residency papers.

    The crackdown comes at a time of rising rhetoric and political pressure on the country’s 3.6 million registered Syrian refugees to return home. Estimates place hundreds of thousands of unregistered Syrians in Turkey, many living in urban areas such as Istanbul.

    Refugee rights advocates say deportations to Syria violate customary international law, which prohibits forcing people to return to a country where they are still likely to face persecution or risk to their lives.

    Arrests reportedly began as early as 13 July, with police officers conducting spot-checks in public spaces, factories, and metro stations around Istanbul and raiding apartments by 16 July. As word spread quickly in Istanbul’s Syrian community, many people shut themselves up at home rather than risk being caught outside.

    It is not clear how many people have been deported so far, with reported numbers ranging from hundreds to a thousand.

    “Deportation of Syrians to their country, which is still in the midst of armed conflict, is a clear violation of both Turkish and international law.”

    Turkey’s Ministry of Interior has said the arrests are aimed at people living without legal status in the country’s most populous city. Istanbul authorities said in a Monday statement that only “irregular migrants entering our country illegally [will be] arrested and deported.” It added that Syrians registered outside Istanbul would be obliged to return to the provinces where they were first issued residency.

    Mayser Hadid, a Syrian lawyer who runs a law practice catering to Syrians in Istanbul, said that the “deportation of Syrians to their country, which is still in the midst of armed conflict, is a clear violation of both Turkish and international law,” including the “return of Syrians without temporary protection cards.”

    Istanbul authorities maintain that the recent detentions and deportations are within the law.

    Starting in 2014, Syrian refugees in Turkey have been registered under “temporary protection” status, which grants the equivalency of legal residency and lets holders apply for a work permit. Those with temporary protection need special permission to work or travel outside of the area where they first applied for protection.

    But last year, several cities across the country – including Istanbul – stopped registering newly-arrived Syrians.

    In the Monday statement, Istanbul authorities said that Syrians registered outside of the city must return to their original city of registration by 20 August. They did not specify the penalty for those who do not.

    Barely 24 hours after the beginning of raids last week, Muhammad, a 21-year-old from Eastern Ghouta in Syria, was arrested at home along with his Syrian flatmates in the Istanbul suburb of Esenler.

    Muhammad, who spoke by phone on the condition of anonymity for security reasons – as did all Syrian deportees and their relatives interviewed for this article – said that Turkish police officers had forced their way into the building. “They beat me,” he said. “I wasn’t even allowed to take anything with me.”

    Muhammad said that as a relatively recent arrival, he couldn’t register for temporary protection and had opted to live and work in Istanbul without papers.

    After his arrest, Muhammad said, he was handcuffed and bundled into a police van, and transferred to a detention facility on the eastern outskirts of the city.

    There, he said, he was forced to sign a document written in Turkish that he couldn’t understand and on Friday was deported to Syria’s Idlib province, via the Bab al-Hawa border crossing.
    Deportation to Idlib

    Government supporters say that Syrians have been deported only to the rebel-held areas of northern Aleppo, where the Turkish army maintains a presence alongside groups that it backs.

    A representative from Istanbul’s provincial government office did not respond to a request for comment, but Youssef Kataboglu, a pro-government commentator who is regarded as close to the government, said that “Turkey only deports Syrians to safe areas according to the law.”

    He denied that Syrians had been returned to Idlib, where a Syrian government offensive that began in late April kicked off an upsurge in fighting, killing more than 400 civilians and forcing more than 330,000 people to flee their homes. The UN said on Monday alone, 59 civilians were killed, including 39 when a market was hit by airstrikes.

    Kataboglu said that deportation to Idlib would “be impossible.”

    Mazen Alloush, a representative of the border authorities on the Syrian side of the Bab al-Hawa crossing that links Turkey with Idlib, said that more than 3,800 Syrians had entered the country via Bab al-Hawa in the past fortnight, a number he said was not a significant change from how many people usually cross the border each month.

    The crossing is controlled by rebel authorities affiliated to Tahrir a-Sham, the hardline Islamist faction that controls most of Idlib.

    “A large number of them were Syrians trying to enter Turkish territory illegally,” who were caught and forced back across, Alloush said, but also “those who committed offences in Turkey or requested to return voluntarily.”

    “We later found out that he’d been deported to Idlib.”

    He added that “if the Turkish authorities are deporting [Syrians] through informal crossings or crossings other than Bab al-Hawa, I don’t have information about it.”

    Other Syrians caught up in the crackdown, including those who did have the proper papers to live and work in Istanbul, confirmed that they had been sent to Idlib or elsewhere.

    On July 19, Umm Khaled’s son left the family’s home without taking the documents that confirm his temporary protection status, she said. He was stopped in the street by police officers.

    “They [the police] took him,” Umm Khaled, a refugee in her 50s originally from the southern Damascus suburbs, said by phone. “We later found out that he’d been deported to Idlib.”

    Rami, a 23-year-old originally from eastern Syria’s Deir Ezzor province, said he was deported from Istanbul last week. He was carrying his temporary protection status card at the time of his arrest, he added.

    "I was in the street in Esenler when the police stopped me and asked for my identity card,” he recalled in a phone conversation from inside Syria. “They checked it, and then asked me to get on a bus.”

    Several young Syrian men already on board the bus were also carrying protection documents with them, Rami said.

    “The police tied our hands together with plastic cords,” he added, describing how the men were then driven to a nearby police station and forced to give fingerprints and sign return documents.

    Rami said he was later sent to northern Aleppo province.
    Rising anti-Syrian sentiment

    The country has deported Syrians before, and Human Rights Watch and other organisations have reported that Turkish security forces regularly intercept and return Syrian refugees attempting to enter the country. As conflict rages in and around Idlib, an increasing number of people are still trying to get into Turkey.

    Turkey said late last year that more than 300,000 Syrians have returned to their home country voluntarily.

    A failed coup attempt against President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan in July 2016 led to an emergency decree that human rights groups say was used to arrest individuals whom the government perceived as opponents. Parts of that decree were later passed into law, making it easier for authorities to deport foreigners on the grounds that they are either linked to terrorist groups or pose a threat to public order.

    The newest wave of deportations after months of growing anti-Syrian sentiment in political debate and on the streets has raised more questions about how this law might be used, as well as the future of Syrian refugees in Turkey.

    In two rounds of mayoral elections that ended last month with a defeat for Erdoğan’s ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), the winning candidate, Ekrem İmamoğlu of the Republican People’s Party (CHP), repeatedly used anti-Syrian rhetoric in his campaign, capitalising on discontent towards the faltering economy and the increasingly contentious presence of millions of Syrian refugees.

    Shortly after the elections, several incidents of mob violence against Syrian-owned businesses took place. Widespread anti-Syrian sentiment has also been evident across social media; after the mayoral election trending hashtags on Twitter reportedly included “Syrians get out”.

    As the deportations continue, the families of those sent back are wondering what they can do.

    “By God, what did he do [wrong]?” asked Umm Khaled, speaking of her son, now in war-torn Idlib.

    “His mother, father, and all his sisters are living here legally in Turkey,” she said. “What are we supposed to do now?”

    https://www.thenewhumanitarian.org/news/2019/07/23/syrians-istanbul-fears-rise-deportations-begin
    #Turquie #asile #migrations #réfugiés_syriens #réfugiés #Syrie #renvois #expulsions #peur

    • Des milliers de migrants arrêtés à Istanbul en deux semaines

      Mardi, le ministre de l’intérieur a indiqué que l’objectif de son gouvernement était d’expulser 80 000 migrants en situation irrégulière en Turquie, contre 56 000 l’an dernier.

      C’est un vaste #coup_de_filet mené sur fond de fort sentiment antimigrants. Les autorités turques ont annoncé, mercredi 24 juillet, avoir arrêté plus de 6 000 migrants en deux semaines, dont des Syriens, vivant de manière « irrégulière » à Istanbul.

      « Nous menons une opération depuis le 12 juillet (…). Nous avons attrapé 6 122 personnes à Istanbul, dont 2 600 Afghans. Une partie de ces personnes sont des Syriens », a déclaré le ministre de l’intérieur, Suleyman Soylu, dans une interview donnée à la chaîne turque NTV. Mardi, ce dernier a indiqué que l’objectif de son gouvernement était d’expulser 80 000 migrants en situation irrégulière en Turquie, contre 56 000 l’an dernier.

      M. Soylu a démenti que des Syriens étaient expulsés vers leur pays, déchiré par une guerre civile meurtrière depuis 2011, après que des ONG ont affirmé avoir recensé des cas de personnes renvoyées en Syrie. « Ces personnes, nous ne pouvons pas les expulser. (…) Lorsque nous attrapons des Syriens qui ne sont pas enregistrés, nous les envoyons dans des camps de réfugiés », a-t-il affirmé, mentionnant un camp dans la province turque de Hatay, frontalière de la Syrie. Il a toutefois assuré que certains Syriens choisissaient de rentrer de leur propre gré en Syrie.

      La Turquie accueille sur son sol plus de 3,5 millions de Syriens ayant fui la guerre, dont 547 000 sont enregistrés à Istanbul. Les autorités affirment n’avoir aucun problème avec les personnes dûment enregistrées auprès des autorités à Istanbul, mais disent lutter contre les migrants vivant dans cette ville alors qu’ils sont enregistrés dans d’autres provinces, voire dans aucune province.

      Le gouvernorat d’Istanbul a lancé lundi un ultimatum, qui expire le 20 août, enjoignant les Syriens y vivant illégalement à quitter la ville. Un groupement d’ONG syriennes a toutefois indiqué, lundi, que « plus de 600 Syriens », pour la plupart titulaires de « cartes de protection temporaires » délivrées par d’autres provinces turques, avaient été arrêtés la semaine dernière à Istanbul et renvoyés en Syrie.

      La Coalition nationale de l’opposition syrienne, basée à Istanbul, a déclaré mardi qu’elle était entrée en contact avec les autorités turques pour discuter des dernières mesures prises contre les Syriens, appelant à stopper les « expulsions ». Son président, Anas al-Abda, a appelé le gouvernement turc à accorder un délai de trois mois aux Syriens concernés pour régulariser leur situation auprès des autorités.

      Ce tour de vis contre les migrants survient après la défaite du parti du président Recep Tayyip Erdogan lors des élections municipales à Istanbul, en juin, lors desquelles l’accueil des Syriens s’était imposé comme un sujet majeur de préoccupation les électeurs.

      Pendant la campagne, le discours hostile aux Syriens s’était déchaîné sur les réseaux sociaux, avec le mot-dièse #LesSyriensDehors. D’après une étude publiée début juillet par l’université Kadir Has, située à Istanbul, la part des Turcs mécontents de la présence des Syriens est passée de 54,5 % en 2017 à 67,7 % en 2019.

      https://www.lemonde.fr/international/article/2019/07/24/des-milliers-de-migrants-arretes-a-istanbul-en-deux-semaines_5492944_3210.ht
      #arrestation #arrestations

    • Turkey Forcibly Returning Syrians to Danger. Authorities Detain, Coerce Syrians to Sign “Voluntary Return” Forms

      Turkish authorities are detaining and coercing Syrians into signing forms saying they want to return to Syria and then forcibly returning them there, Human Rights Watch said today. On July 24, 2019, Interior Minister Süleyman Soylu denied that Turkey had “deported” Syrians but said that Syrians “who voluntarily want to go back to Syria” can benefit from procedures allowing them to return to “safe areas.”

      Almost 10 days after the first reports of increased police spot-checks of Syrians’ registration documents in Istanbul and forced returns of Syrians from the city, the office of the provincial governor released a July 22 statement saying that Syrians registered in one of the country’s other provinces must return there by August 20, and that the Interior Ministry would send unregistered Syrians to provinces other than Istanbul for registration. The statement comes amid rising xenophobic sentiment across the political spectrum against Syrian and other refugees in Turkey.

      “Turkey claims it helps Syrians voluntarily return to their country, but threatening to lock them up until they agree to return, forcing them to sign forms, and dumping them in a war zone is neither voluntary nor legal,” said Gerry Simpson, associate Emergencies director. “Turkey should be commended for hosting record numbers of Syrian refugees, but unlawful deportations are not the way forward.”

      Turkey shelters a little over 3.6 million Syrian Refugees countrywide who have been given temporary protection, half a million of them in Istanbul. This is more refugees than any other country in the world and almost four times as many as the whole European Union (EU).

      The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) says that “the vast majority of Syrian asylum-seekers continue to … need international refugee protection” and that it “calls on states not to forcibly return Syrian nationals and former habitual residents of Syria.”

      Human Rights Watch spoke by phone with four Syrians who are in Syria after being detained and forcibly returned there.

      One of the men, who was from Ghouta, in the Damascus countryside, was detained on July 17 in Istanbul, where he had been living unregistered for over three years. He said police coerced him and other Syrian detainees into signing a form, transferred them to another detention center, and then put them on one of about 20 buses headed to Syria. They are now in northern Syria.

      Another man, from Aleppo, who had been living in Gaziantep in southeast Turkey since 2013, said he was detained there after he and his brother went to the police to complain about an attack on a shop that they ran in the city. He said the police transferred them from the Gaziantep Karşıyaka police station to the foreigners’ deportation center at Oğuzeli, holding them there for six days and forcing them to sign a deportation form without telling them what it was. On July 9, the authorities forcibly returned the men to Azaz in Syria via the Öncüpınar/Bab al Salama border gate near the Turkish town of Kilis, Human Rights Watch also spoke by phone with two men who said the Turkish coast guard and police intercepted them at checkpoints near the coast as they tried to reach Greece, detained them, and coerced them into signing and fingerprinting voluntary repatriation forms. The authorities then deported them to Idlib and northern Aleppo governorate.

      One of the men, a Syrian from Atmeh in Idlib governorate who registered in the Turkish city of Gaziantep in 2017, said the Turkish coast guard intercepted him on July 9. He said [“Guvenlik”] “security” held him with other Syrians for six days in a detention facility in the town of Aydın, in western Turkey. He said the guards verbally abused him and other detainees, punched him in the chest, and coerced him into signing voluntary repatriation papers. Verbally abusive members of Turkey’s rural gendarmerie police forces [jandarma] deported him on July 15 to Syria with about 35 other Syrians through the Öncüpınar/Bab al-Salameh border crossing.

      He said that there were others in the Aydin detention center who had been there for up to four months because they had refused to sign these forms.

      The second man said he fled Maarat al-Numan in 2014 and registered in the Turkish city of Iskenderun. On July 4, police stopped him at a checkpoint as he tried to reach the coast to take a boat to Greece and took him to the Aydin detention facility, where he said the guards beat some of the other detainees and shouted and cursed at them.

      He said the detention authorities confiscated his belongings, including his Turkish registration card, and told him to sign forms. When he refused, the official said they were not deportation forms but just “routine procedure.” When he refused again, he was told he would be detained indefinitely until he agreed to sign and provided his fingerprints. He said that the guards beat another man who had also refused, so he felt he had no choice but to sign. He was then put on a bus for 27 hours with dozens of other Syrians and deported through the Öncüpınar/Bab al-Salameh border crossing.

      In addition, journalists have spoken with a number of registered and unregistered Syrians who told them by phone from Syria that Turkish authorities detained them in the third week of July, coerced them into signing and providing a fingerprint on return documents. The authorities then deported them with dozens, and in some cases as many as 100, other Syrians to Idlib and northern Aleppo governorate through the Cilvegözü/Bab al-Hawa border crossing.

      More than 400,000 people have died because of the Syrian conflict since 2011, according to the World Bank. While the nature of the fighting in Syria has changed, with the Syrian government retaking areas previously held by anti-government groups and the battle against the Islamic State (ISIS) winding down, profound civilian suffering and loss of life persists.

      In Idlib governorate, the Syrian-Russian military alliance continues to indiscriminately bomb civilians and to use prohibited weapons, resulting in the death of at least 400 people since April, including 90 children, according to Save the Children. In other areas under the control of the Syrian government and anti-government groups, arbitrary arrests, mistreatment, and harassment are still the status quo.

      The forcible returns from Turkey indicate that the government is ready to double down on other policies that deny many Syrian asylum seekers protection. Over the past four years, Turkey has sealed off its border with Syria, while Turkish border guards have carried out mass summary pushbacks and killed and injured Syrians as they try to cross. In late 2017 and early 2018, Istanbul and nine provinces on the border with Syria suspended registration of newly arriving asylum seekers. Turkey’s travel permit system for registered Syrians prohibits unregistered Syrians from traveling from border provinces they enter to register elsewhere in the country.

      Turkey is bound by the international customary law of nonrefoulement, which prohibits the return of anyone to a place where they would face a real risk of persecution, torture or other ill-treatment, or a threat to life. This includes asylum seekers, who are entitled to have their claims fairly adjudicated and not be summarily returned to places where they fear harm. Turkey may not coerce people into returning to places where they face harm by threatening to detain them.

      Turkey should protect the basic rights of all Syrians, regardless of registration status, and register those denied registration since late 2017, in line with the Istanbul governor’s July 22 statement.

      On July 19, the European Commission announced the adoption of 1.41 billion euros in additional assistance to support refugees and local communities in Turkey, including for their protection. The European Commission, EU member states with embassies in Turkey, and the UNHCR should support Turkey in any way needed to register and protect Syrians, and should publicly call on Turkey to end its mass deportations of Syrians at the border and from cities further inland.

      “As Turkey continues to shelter more than half of registered Syrian refugees globally, the EU should be resettling Syrians from Turkey to the EU but also ensuring that its financial support protects all Syrians seeking refuge in Turkey,” Simpson said.

      https://www.hrw.org/news/2019/07/26/turkey-forcibly-returning-syrians-danger
      #retour_volontaire

    • Turquie : à Istanbul, les réfugiés vivent dans la peur du racisme et de la police

      Depuis quelques semaines, le hashtag #StopDeportationsToSyria (#SuriyeyeSınırdışınaSon) circule sur les réseaux sociaux. Il s’accompagne de témoignages de Syriens qui racontent s’être fait arrêter par la police turque à Istanbul et renvoyer en Syrie. Les autorités turques ont décidé de faire la chasse aux réfugiés alors que les agressions se multiplient.

      Le 21 juillet, alors qu’il fait ses courses, le jeune Amjad Tablieh se fait arrêter par la police turque à Istanbul. Il n’a pas sa carte de protection temporaire – kimlik – sur lui et la police turque refuse d’attendre que sa famille la lui apporte : « J’ai été mis dans un bus avec d’autres syriens. On nous a emmenés au poste de police de Tuzla et les policiers on dit que nous serions envoyés à Hatay [province turque à la frontière syrienne] ». La destination finale sera finalement la Syrie.

      Étudiant et disposant d’un kimlik à Istanbul, Amjad ajoute que comme les autres syriens arrêtés ce jour-là, il a été obligé de signer un document reconnaissant qu’il rentrait volontairement en Syrie. Il tient à ajouter qu’il a « vu des personnes se faire frapper pour avoir refusé de signer ce document ». Étudiant en architecture, Hama est arrivé à Istanbul il y a quatre mois pour s’inscrire à l’université. Il a été arrêté et déporté car son kimlik a été délivré à Gaziantep, près de la frontière avec la Syrie. Amr Dabool, également enregistré dans la ville de Gaziantep, a quant à lui été expulsé en Syrie alors qu’il tentait de se rendre en Grèce.
      Pas de statut de réfugié pour les Syriens en Turquie

      Alors que des récits similaires se multiplient sur les réseaux sociaux, le 22 juillet, les autorités d’Istanbul ont annoncé que les Syriens disposant de la protection temporaire mais n’étant pas enregistrés à Istanbul avaient jusqu’au 20 août pour retourner dans les provinces où ils sont enregistrés, faute de quoi ils seront renvoyés de force dans des villes choisies par le ministère de l’Intérieur. Invité quelques jours plus tard à la télévision turque, le ministre de l’intérieur Süleyman Soylu a nié toute expulsion, précisant que certains Syriens choisissaient « de rentrer de leur propre gré en Syrie ».

      Sur les 3,5 millions de Syriens réfugiés en Turquie, ils sont plus de 500 000 à vivre à Istanbul. La grande majorité d’entre eux ont été enregistrés dans les provinces limitrophes avec la Syrie (Gaziantep ou Urfa) où ils sont d’abord passés avant d’arriver à Istanbul pour travailler, étudier ou rejoindre leur famille. Depuis quelques jours, les contrôles se renforcent pour les renvoyer là où ils sont enregistrés.

      Pour Diane al Mehdi, anthropologue et membre du Syrian Refugees Protection Network, ces refoulements existent depuis longtemps, mais ils sont aujourd’hui plus massifs. Le 24 juillet, le ministre de l’intérieur a ainsi affirmé qu’une opération visant les réfugiés et des migrants non enregistrés à Istanbul avait menée à l’arrestation, depuis le 12 juillet, de 1000 Syriens. Chaque jour, environ 200 personnes ont été expulsées vers le nord de la Syrie via le poste frontière de Bab al-Hawa, précise la chercheuse. « Ces chiffres concernent principalement des Syriens vivant à Istanbul », explique-t-elle.

      Le statut d’« invité » dont disposent les Syriens en Turquie est peu clair et extrêmement précarisant, poursuit Diane al Mehdi. « Il n’y a pas d’antécédents légaux pour un tel statut, cela participe à ce flou et permet au gouvernement de faire un peu ce qu’il veut. » Créé en 2013, ce statut s’inscrivait à l’époque dans une logique de faveur et de charité envers les Syriens, le gouvernement ne pensant alors pas que la guerre en Syrie durerait. « À l’époque, les frontières étaient complètement ouvertes, les Syriens avaient le droit d’être enregistrés en Turquie et surtout ce statut comprenait le principe de non-refoulement. Ces trois principes ont depuis longtemps été bafouées par le gouvernement turc. »

      Aujourd’hui, les 3,5 millions de Syriens réfugiés en Turquie ne disposent pas du statut de réfugié en tant que tel. Bien que signataire de la Convention de Genève, Ankara n’octroie le statut de réfugié qu’aux ressortissants des 47 pays membres du Conseil de l’Europe. La Syrie n’en faisant pas partie, les Syriens ont en Turquie un statut moins protecteur encore que la protection subsidiaire : il est temporaire et révocable.
      #LesSyriensDehors : « Ici, c’est la Turquie, c’est Istanbul »

      Si le Président Erdoğan a longtemps prôné une politique d’accueil des Syriens, le vent semble aujourd’hui avoir tourné. En février 2018, il déclarait déjà : « Nous ne sommes pas en mesure de continuer d’accueillir 3,5 millions de réfugiés pour toujours ». Et alors qu’à Istanbul la possibilité d’obtenir le kimlik a toujours été compliquée, depuis le 6 juillet 2019, Istanbul n’en délivre officiellement plus aucun selon Diane al Mehdi.

      Même si le kimlik n’offre pas aux Syriens la possibilité de travailler, depuis quelques années, les commerces aux devantures en arabe sont de plus en plus nombreux dans rues d’Istanbul et beaucoup de Syriens ont trouvé du travail dans l’économie informelle, fournissant une main-d’œuvre bon marché. Or, dans un contexte économique difficile, avec une inflation et un chômage en hausse, les travailleurs syriens entrent en concurrence avec les ressortissants turcs et cela accroît les tensions sociales.

      Au printemps dernier, alors que la campagne pour les élections municipales battait son plein, des propos hostiles accompagnés des hashtags #SuriyelilerDefoluyor (« Les Syriens dehors ») ou #UlkemdeSuriyeliIstemiyorum (« Je ne veux pas de Syriens dans mon pays ») se sont multipliés sur les réseaux sociaux. Le candidat d’opposition et aujourd’hui maire d’Istanbul Ekrem Imamoglu, étonné du nombre d’enseignes en arabe dans certains quartiers, avait lancé : « Ici, c’est la Turquie, c’est Istanbul ».

      Après la banalisation des propos anti-syriens, ce sont les actes de violence qui se sont multipliés dans les rues d’Istanbul. Fin juin, dans le quartier de Küçükçekmece, une foule d’hommes a attaqué des magasins tenus par des Syriens. Quelques jours plus tard, les autorités d’Istanbul sommaient plus de 700 commerçants syriens de turciser leurs enseignes en arabe. Publié dans la foulée, un sondage de l’université Kadir Has à Istanbul a confirmé que la part des Turcs mécontents de la présence des Syriens est passée de 54,5 % en 2017 à 67,7 % en 2019.
      Climat de peur

      Même s’ils ont un kimlik, ceux qui ne disposent pas d’un permis de travail - difficile à obtenir - risquent une amende d’environs 550 euros et leur expulsion vers la Syrie s’ils sont pris en flagrant délit. Or, la police a renforcé les contrôles d’identités dans les stations de métro, les gares routières, les quartiers à forte concentration de Syriens mais aussi sur les lieux de travail. Cette nouvelle vague d’arrestations et d’expulsions suscite un climat de peur permanente chez les Syriens d’Istanbul. Aucune des personne contactée n’a souhaité témoigner, même sous couvert d’anonymat.

      « Pas protégés par les lois internationales, les Syriens titulaires du kimlik deviennent otages de la politique turque », dénonce Syrian Refugees Protection Network. Et l’[accord signé entre l’Union européenne et Ankara au printemps 2016 pour fermer la route des Balkans n’a fait que détériorer leur situation en Turquie. Pour Diane al-Mehdi, il aurait fallu accorder un statut qui permette aux Syriens d’avoir un avenir. « Tant qu’ils n’auront pas un statut fixe qui leur permettra de travailler, d’aller à l’école, à l’université, ils partiront en Europe. » Selon elle, donner de l’argent - dont on ne sait pas clairement comment il bénéficie aux Syriens - à la Turquie pour que le pays garde les Syriens n’était pas la solution. « Évidemment, l’Europe aurait aussi dû accepter d’accueillir plus de Syriens. »

      https://www.courrierdesbalkans.fr/Turquie-a-Istanbul-les-refugies-vivent-dans-la-peur-du-racisme-et

    • En Turquie, les réfugiés syriens sont devenus #indésirables

      Après avoir accueilli les réfugiés syriens à bras ouverts, la Turquie change de ton. Une façon pour le gouvernement Erdogan de réagir aux crispations qu’engendrent leur présence dans un contexte économique morose.

      Les autorités avaient donné jusqu’à mardi soir aux migrants sans statut légal pour régulariser leur situation, sous peine d’être expulsés. Mais selon plusieurs ONG, ces expulsions ont déjà commencé et plus d’un millier de réfugiés ont déjà été arrêtés. Quelque 600 personnes auraient même déjà été reconduites en Syrie.

      « Les policiers font des descentes dans les quartiers, dans les commerces, dans les maisons. Ils font des contrôles d’identité dans les transports en commun et quand ils attrapent des Syriens, ils les emmènent au bureau de l’immigration puis les expulsent », décrit Eyup Ozer, membre du collectif « We want to live together initiative ».

      Le gouvernement turc dément pour sa part ces renvois forcés. Mais cette vague d’arrestations intervient dans un climat hostile envers les 3,6 millions de réfugiés syriens installés en Turquie.

      Solidarité islamique

      Bien accueillis au début de la guerre, au nom de la solidarité islamique défendue par le président turc Recep Tayyip Erdogan dans l’idée de combattre Bachar al-Assad, ces réfugiés syriens sont aujourd’hui devenus un enjeu politique.

      Retenus à leur arrivée dans des camps, parfois dans des conditions difficiles, nombre d’entre eux ont quitté leur point de chute pour tenter leur chance dans le reste du pays et en particulier dans les villes. A Istanbul, le poumon économique de la Turquie, la présence de ces nouveaux-venus est bien visible. La plupart ont ouvert des commerces et des restaurants, et leurs devantures, en arabe, agacent, voire suscitent des jalousies.

      « L’économie turque va mal, c’est pour cette raison qu’on ressent davantage les effets de la crise syrienne », explique Lami Bertan Tokuzlu, professeur de droit à l’Université Bilgi d’Istanbul. « Les Turcs n’approuvent plus les dépenses du gouvernement en faveur des Syriens », relève ce spécialiste des migrations.
      Ressentiment croissant

      Après l’euphorie économique des années 2010, la Turquie est confrontée depuis plus d’un an à la dévaluation de sa monnaie et à un taux de chômage en hausse, à 10,9% en 2018.

      Dans ce contexte peu favorable et alors que les inégalités se creusent, la contestation s’est cristallisée autour de la question des migrants. Celle-ci expliquerait, selon certains experts, la déroute du candidat de Recep Tayyip Erdogan à la mairie d’Istanbul.

      Conscient de ce ressentiment dans la population et des conséquences potentielles pour sa popularité, le président a commencé à adapter son discours dès 2018. L’ultimatum lancé à ceux qui ont quitté une province turque où ils étaient enregistrés pour s’installer à Istanbul illustre une tension croissante.

      https://www.rts.ch/info/monde/10649380-en-turquie-les-refugies-syriens-sont-devenus-indesirables.html

    • Europe’s Complicity in Turkey’s Syrian-Refugee Crackdown

      Ankara is moving against Syrians in the country—and the European Union bears responsibility.

      Under the cover of night, Turkish police officers pushed Ahmed onto a large bus parked in central Istanbul. In the darkness, the Syrian man from Damascus could discern dozens of other handcuffed refugees being crammed into the vehicle. Many of them would not see the Turkish city again.

      Ahmed, who asked that his last name not be used to protect his safety, was arrested after police discovered that he was registered with the authorities not in Istanbul, but in a different district. Turkish law obliges Syrian refugees with a temporary protection status to remain in their locale of initial registration or obtain separate permission to travel, and the officers reassured him he would simply be transferred back to the right district.

      Instead, as dawn broke, the bus arrived at a detention facility in the Istanbul suburb of Pendik, where Ahmed said he was jostled into a crowded cell with 10 others and no beds, and received only one meal a day, which was always rotten. “The guards told us we Syrians are just as rotten inside,” he told me. “They kept shouting that Turkey will no longer accept us, and that we will all go back to Syria.”

      Ahmed would spend more than six weeks in the hidden world of Turkey’s so-called removal centers. His account, as well as those of more than half a dozen other Syrians I spoke to, point to the systemic abuse, the forced deportations, and, in some cases, the death of refugees caught in a recent crackdown here.
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      Yet Turkey is not the only actor implicated. In a deeper sense, the backlash also exposes the long-term consequences of the European Union’s outsourcing of its refugee problem. In March 2016, the EU entered into a controversial deal with Turkey that halted much of the refugee influx to Europe in return for an aid package worth €6 billion ($6.7 billion) and various political sweeteners for Ankara. Preoccupied with its own border security, EU decision makers at the time were quick to reassure their critics that Turkey constituted a “safe third country” that respected refugee rights and was committed to the principle of non-refoulement.

      As Europe closed its doors, Turkey was left with a staggering 3.6 million registered Syrian refugees—the largest number hosted by any country in the world and nearly four times as many as all EU-member states combined. While Turkish society initially responded with impressive resilience, its long-lauded hospitality is rapidly wearing thin, prompting President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s government to take measures that violate the very premise of the EU-Turkey deal.

      Last month, Turkish police launched operations targeting undocumented migrants and refugees in Istanbul. Syrian refugees holding temporary protection status registered in other Turkish districts now have until October 30 to leave Istanbul, whereas those without any papers are to be transferred to temporary refugee camps in order to be registered.

      Both international and Turkish advocates of refugee rights say, however, that the operation sparked a wave of random arrests and even forced deportations. The Istanbul Bar Association, too, reported its Legal Aid Bureau dealt with 3.5 times as many deportation cases as in June, just before the operation was launched. UNHCR, the UN’s refugee agency, and the European Commission have not said whether they believe Turkey is deporting Syrians. But one senior EU official, who asked for anonymity to discuss the issue, estimated that about 2,200 people were sent to the Syrian province of Idlib, though he said it was unclear whether they were forcibly deported or chose to return. The official added that, were Turkey forcibly deporting Syrians, this would be in explicit violation of the principle of non-refoulement, on which the EU-Turkey deal is conditioned.

      The Turkish interior ministry’s migration department did not respond to questions about the allegations. In a recent interview on Turkish television, Interior Minister Süleyman Soylu said that “it is not possible for us to deport any unregistered Syrian” and insisted that returns to Syria were entirely voluntary.

      Ahmed and several other Syrian refugees I spoke to, however, experienced firsthand what voluntary can look like in practice.

      After being transferred from the facility in Pendik to a removal center in Binkılıç, northwest of Istanbul, Ahmed said he was pressured into signing a set of forms upon arrival. The female official in charge refused to explain the papers’ contents, he said. As Ahmed was about to sign and fingerprint the last document, he noticed she was deliberately using her fingers to cover the Arabic translation of the words voluntary return. When he retracted his finger, she called in the guards, who took Ahmed to a nearby bathroom with another Syrian who had refused to sign. There, he said, the two were intimidated for several hours, and he was shown images of a man who had been badly beaten and tied to a chair with plastic tape. According to Ahmed, an official told him, “If you don’t sign, you’ll end up like that.”

      The other Syrian present at the time, Hussein, offered a similar account. In a phone interview from Dubai, where he escaped to after negotiating deportation to Malaysia instead of Syria, Hussein, who asked to be identified by only his first name to protect relatives still in Turkey, detailed the abuse in the same terms as Ahmed, and added that he was personally beaten by one of the guards. When the ordeal was over, both men said, the other Syrians who had arrived with them were being taken to a bus, apparently to be deported.

      Ahmed was detained in Binkılıç for a month before being taken to another removal center in nearby Kırklareli, where he said he was made to sleep outside in a courtyard together with more than 100 other detainees. The guards kept the toilets locked throughout the day, he said, so inmates had to either wait for a single 30-minute toilet break at night or relieve themselves where they were sleeping. When Ahmed fell seriously ill, he told me, he was repeatedly denied access to a doctor.

      After nine days in Kırklareli, the nightmare suddenly ended. Ahmed was called in by the facility’s management, asked who he was, and released when it became clear he did in fact hold temporary protection status, albeit for a district other than Istanbul. The Atlantic has seen a photo of Ahmed’s identity card, as well as his release note from the removal center.

      The EU has funded many of the removal centers in which refugees like Ahmed are held. As stated in budgets from 2010 and 2015, the EU financed at least 12 such facilities as part of its pre-accession funding to Turkey. And according to a 2016 report by an EU parliamentary delegation, the removal center in Kırklareli in which Ahmed was held received 85 percent of its funding from the EU. The Binkılıç facility, where Syrians were forced to sign return papers, also received furniture and other equipment funded by Britain and, according to Ahmed, featured signs displaying the EU and Turkish flags.

      It is hard to determine the extent to which the $6.7 billion allocated to Ankara under the 2016 EU-Turkey deal has funded similar projects. While the bulk of it went to education, health care, and direct cash support for refugees, a 2018 annual report also refers to funding for “a removal center for 750 people”—language conspicuously replaced with the more neutral “facility for 750 people” in this year’s report.

      According to Kati Piri, the European Parliament’s former Turkey rapporteur, even lawmakers like her struggle to scrutinize the precise implementation of EU-brokered deals on migration, which include agreements not just with Turkey, but also with Libya, Niger, and Sudan.

      “In this way, the EU becomes co-responsible for human-rights violations,” Piri said in a telephone interview. “Violations against refugees may have decreased on European soil, but that’s because we outsourced them. It’s a sign of Europe’s moral deficit, which deprives us from our credibility in holding Turkey to account.” According to the original agreement, the EU pledged to resettle 72,000 Syrian refugees from Turkey. Three years later, it has taken in less than a third of that number.

      Many within Turkish society feel their country has simply done enough. With an economy only recently out of recession and many Turks struggling to make a living, hostility toward Syrians is on the rise. A recent poll found that those who expressed unhappiness with Syrian refugees rose to 67.7 percent this year, from 54.5 percent in 2017.

      Just as in Europe, opposition parties in Turkey are now cashing in on anti-refugee sentiment. In municipal elections this year, politicians belonging to the secularist CHP ran an explicitly anti-Syrian campaign, and have cut municipal aid for refugees or even banned Syrians’ access to beaches since being elected. In Istanbul, on the very evening the CHP candidate Ekrem İmamoğlu was elected mayor, a jubilantly racist hashtag began trending on Twitter: “Syrians are fucking off” (#SuriyelilerDefoluyor).

      In a statement to The Atlantic, a Turkish foreign-ministry spokesperson said, “Turkey has done its part” when it came to the deal with the EU. “The funds received amount to a fraction of what has been spent by Turkey,” the text noted, adding that Ankara expects “more robust support from the EU” both financially and in the form of increased resettlements of Syrian refugees from Turkey to Europe.

      Though international organizations say that more evidence of Turkey’s actions is needed, Nour al-Deen al-Showaishi argues the proof is all around him. “The bombs are falling not far from here,” he told me in a telephone interview from a village on the outskirts of Idlib, the Syrian region where he said he was sent. Showaishi said he was deported from Turkey in mid-July after being arrested in the Istanbul neighborhood of Esenyurt while having coffee with friends. Fida al-Deen, who was with him at the time, confirmed to me that Showaishi was arrested and called him from Syria two days later.

      Having arrived in Turkey in early 2018, when the governorate of Istanbul had stopped giving out identity cards to Syrians, Showaishi did not have any papers to show the police. Taken to a nearby police station, officers assured him that he would receive an identity card if he signed a couple of forms. When he asked for more detail about the forms, however, they changed tactics and forced him to comply.

      Showaishi was then sent to a removal center in Tuzla and, he said, deported to Syria the same day. He sent me videos to show he was in Idlib, the last major enclave of armed resistance against Syrian President Bashar al-Assad. According to the United Nations, the region contains 3 million people, half of them internally displaced, and faces a humanitarian disaster now that Russia and the Assad regime are stepping up an offensive to retake the territory.

      The only way out leads back into Turkey, and, determined to prevent yet another influx of refugees, Ankara has buttressed its border.

      Still, Hisham al-Steyf al-Mohammed saw no other option. The 21-year-old was deported from Turkey in mid-July despite possessing valid papers from the governorate of Istanbul, a photo of which I have seen. Desperate to return to his wife and two young children, he paid a smuggler to guide him back to Turkey, according to Mohammed Khedr Hammoud, another refugee who joined the perilous journey.

      Shortly before sunset on August 4, Hammoud said, a group of 13 refugees set off from the village of Dirriyah, a mile from the border, pausing in the mountains for the opportune moment to cross into Turkey. While they waited, Mohammed knelt down to pray, but moments later, a cloud of sand jumped up next to him. Realizing it was a bullet, the smuggler called for the group to get moving, but Mohammed lay still. “I crawled up to him and put my ear on his heart,” Hammoud told me, “but it wasn’t beating.” For more than an hour, he said, the group was targeted by bullets from Turkish territory, and only at midnight was it able to carry Mohammed’s body away.

      I obtained a photo of Mohammed’s death certificate issued by the Al-Rahma hospital in the Darkoush village in Idlib. The document, dated August 5, notes, “A bullet went through the patient’s right ear, and came out at the level of the left neck.”

      The Turkish interior ministry sent me a statement that largely reiterated an article published in Foreign Policy last week, in which an Erdoğan spokesman said Mohammed was a terror suspect who voluntarily requested his return to Syria. He offered no details on the case, though.

      Mohammed’s father, Mustafa, dismissed the spokesman’s argument, telling me in an interview in Istanbul, “If he really did something wrong, then why didn’t they send him to court?” Since Mohammed had been the household’s main breadwinner, Mustafa said he now struggled to feed his family, including Mohammed’s 3-month-old baby.

      Yet he is not the only one struck by Mohammed’s death. In an interview in his friend’s apartment in Istanbul, where he has returned but is in hiding from the authorities, Ahmed had just finished detailing his week’s long detention in Turkey’s removal centers when his phone started to buzz—photos of Mohammed’s corpse were being shared on Facebook.

      “I know him!” Ahmed screamed, clasping his friend’s arm. Mohammed, he said, had been with him in the removal center in Binkılıç. “He was so hopeful to be released, because he had a valid ID for Istanbul. But when he told me that he had been made to sign some forms, I knew it was already too late.”

      “If I signed that piece of paper,” Ahmed said, “I could have been dead next to him.”

      It is this thought that pushes Ahmed, and many young Syrians like him, to continue on to Europe. He and his friend showed me videos a smuggler had sent them of successful boat journeys, and told me they planned to leave soon.

      “As long as we are in Turkey, the Europeans can pretend that they don’t see us,” Ahmed concluded. “But once I go there, once I stand in front of them, I am sure that they will care about me.”

      https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2019/08/europe-turkey-syria-refugee-crackdown/597013
      #responsabilité

  • Des nouvelles du Soudan

    Par Anne-Catherine de Nevehttps://www.facebook.com/annecatherinedeneve/posts/10216762968900586


    Il faut que je publie ceci. Je suis désolée. Je voudrais vous l’épargner.

    M. mon ami M, est chez nous depuis dimanche dernier. En allant se coucher dimanche soir, il m’a dit : « j’ai un mauvais pressentiment. J’ai le sentiment que quelque chose de terrible va se passer. »

    Lundi matin, quand il s’est réveillé, il a posé sa main sur son téléphone, comme à son habitude, et a commencé à éplucher Facebook. Son visage a blêmi quand il a découvert ce qui se passait dans son pays. Sa femme y est. Sa mère. Son père, ses frères et sœurs. Tous ses amis. Les heures qui ont suivi, il n’a plus dit un mot, son regard obstinément rivé sur l’écran de son téléphone, tentant désespérément de comprendre ce qui était en train de se passer.

    Il avait raison. Quelque chose de terrible était en train de se passer. Voilà le récit qu’il m’en a fait. Je vous le livre ici car nous nous devons mettre autant d’efforts à faire savoir ce qui se passe qu’ils n’en mettent à nous le cacher. Les principaux réseaux internet ont été coupés hier. Des rumeurs circulent : le téléphone pourrait être coupé dans les heures qui viennent, privant le Soudan tout entier de communication vers l’extérieur.
    Ce matin, il a retrouvé ses esprits et a commencé à m’expliquer ce que je savais déjà en partie, en montrant certaines vidéos, certaines photos… Il m’a demandé de l’écrire ici.

    M. :

    « Ils étaient assis devant le quartier général des forces armées. Depuis des jours. Depuis des nuits. Ils étaient la pour réclamer d’être entendus. Ils étaient là pour exiger que le Soudan soit rendu aux citoyens.
    Au petit matin, ceux du Transitionnal Military Council , ceux-là mêmes qui prétendaient être là pour protéger les citoyens, pour éviter qu’ils ne soient tués, maltraités, les ont attaqués. Ceux-là qui ont présentés leur main à serrer aux diplomates et chefs de gouvernement européens les ont attaqués, l’arme au poing. Ils ont tiré dans la foule. Ils ont frappé. Ils ont arrêté. Ils ont emprisonné. Ils ont violé. Hommes, femmes, enfants ont tenté de s’échapper. Dans les cris, dans la peur, dans le sang.

    Sur la place, les citoyens avaient installé de grandes tentes, dans lesquelles ils dormaient quand les militaires ont attaqué. Les militaires y ont mis le feu. Personne ne sait combien sont morts. Un peu plus loin, ils sont entrés dans les maisons des étudiants. Ils sont entrés et sortis, laissant la mort derrière eux. Personne ne sait combien sont morts. Les militaires ont emporté les corps. Ils les ont jetés dans le Nil bleu.

    Les femmes ont été violées. On a vu des militaires brandir des sous-vêtements des femmes qu’ils ont attaquées en guise d’étendard.

    Au petit matin, ils se sont dirigés vers les deux hôpitaux où étaient soignés les blessés. Ils sont entrés. Ils ont violé les femmes, infirmières et médecins, qui les soignaient Ils sont partis. Personne ne sait combien ont été violées. Le viol jette l’opprobre sur toute la communauté de la femme violée. Normalement, personne ne parle. Mais 50 récits ont déjà été enregistrés.

    Ceux qui ont pu fuir ont fui. Une fois le sitting dispersé, les militaires se sont répandus dans la ville. Ils ont interdit la fête rituelle de l’ Aid . Ils ont tiré sur tous les rassemblements de plusieurs personnes. Personne ne sait combien sont morts dans les rues de Khartoum. Ils ont même attaqué les cortèges funéraires et ont tué les familles qui voulaient rendre hommage à leurs morts.

    Le 4 juin, ils ont coupé les principaux réseaux internet, empêchant les gens de communiquer.
    Beaucoup de personnes sont manquantes. Parmi elles, certains de mes amis. Beaucoup de mes amis. Un numéro a été ouvert depuis hier pour recenser les personnes manquantes. On sait que 300 personnes ont été emmenées à Burri (?), dans un commissariat de police. Les autres, on ne sait pas où elles ont été emmenées
    A Khartoum, il y a un endroit où le Nil fait une boucle et rejette ce que ses flots ont charrié. Aujourd’hui plus de 120 corps ont été repêchés. Et ils continuent d’arriver.

    Je ne sais pas ce qui va se passer. Aujourd’hui, ils ont pris le pouvoir. Les Rapid support forces - les Damaseri , comme les a appelés le gouvernement de Omar El Bachir qui sont aussi Jenjaweed , connus pour avoir décimé le Darfour - sont au pouvoir et contrôlent désormais tout le Soudan. »

    Voici le récit de M. Il n’est pas complet car peu d’informations nous arrivent. Il comporte sans doute des erreurs car il m’a fallu me frayer un chemin dans toute cette horreur. Mais il est fidèle à ce que les Soudanais ont souffert. À ce qu’ils souffrent aujourd’hui.

    #freedomforsoudan
    #stopexpulsionsoudan
    #salah

    Si le récit de M vous laisse perplexe, Il m’a demandé de vous montrer des photos et des vidéo. Je viens de les parcourir et je ne peux pas. Je ne peux pas vous les montrer.

    • Le Monde affirme que Khartoum est « livrée au miliciens du Darfour » :

      https://www.lemonde.fr/afrique/article/2019/06/06/soudan-khartoum-livree-aux-miliciens-du-darfour_5472239_3212.html

      El Watan, quotidien algérien, voit de la part du Conseil militaire de transition une volonté de casser la mobilisation populaire pacifiste en montant les islamistes contre les manifestants.

      https://www.elwatan.com/edition/international/bain-de-sang-au-soudan-06-06-2019#

      Par contre, d’après El Watan, Abdelfattah al Buhrane, chef de la junte militaire, semble revenir à un discours plus « modéré » :

      Devant la pression de la rue et de la communauté internationale qui a appelé à la reprise des discussions, la junte militaire au pouvoir a fini par céder et annuler sa décision de tenir des élections dans neuf mois. Elle a également invité les contestataires à un dialogue sans conditions. Le général Abdelfattah Al Burhane, lors d’un discours retransmis hier à la télévision, a invité à la reprise des négociations. « Nous ouvrons nos bras aux négociations sans restriction, sinon celle de l’intérêt national, pour fonder un pouvoir légitime qui reflète les aspirations de la révolution des Soudanais.

      Ouvrons tous ensemble une nouvelle page », a-t-il déclaré. Il a dit en outre « regretter ce qui s’est passé à Khartoum lundi » et annoncé l’ouverture d’une enquête par le parquet général. Bien que comptant pourtant parmi les principaux soutiens des généraux soudanais, les Saoudiens ont apparu ne pas assumer la dérive du Conseil militaire de transition. Riyad a ainsi souligné hier aussi « l’importance d’une reprise du dialogue entre les différentes forces politiques soudanaises en vue de réaliser les espoirs et les aspirations du peuple soudanais frère ». Au moment où nous mettions sous presse hier, l’ALC n’avait pas encore répondu à l’offre de l’armée.

  • Plainte contre les techniques illégales de publicité en ligne
    https://www.domainepublic.net/Plainte-contre-les-techniques-illegales-de-publicite-en-ligne.html

    La campagne #StopSpyingOnUs est lancée aujourd’hui dans neuf pays de l’UE : 14 organisations de défense des droits humains et droits numériques, coordonnées par Liberties, déposent simultanément des plaintes auprès des autorités nationales en charge de la protection des données personnelles concernant les techniques illégales utilisées par la publicité comportementale en ligne. Les pays concernés sont l’Allemagne, la Belgique, la France, l’Italie, l’Estonie, la Bulgarie, la Hongrie, la Slovénie et la (...)

    #Sécurité_et_vie_privée

    / #Vie_privée

  • Lancement d’une campagne dans neuf pays de l’UE contre les techniques illégales de la publicité en ligne
    https://www.laquadrature.net/2019/06/04/lancement-dune-campagne-dans-neuf-pays-de-lue-contre-les-techniques-il

    L’association berlinoise Liberties lance aujourd’hui avec de nombreux alliés une campagne d’actions contre le ciblage publicitaire devant les autorités 9 pays européens, et vous invite à la rejoindre. La Quadrature du Net assiste Liberties pour porter cette action devant la CNIL dans les jours à venir. Nous reproduisons ici leur communiqué de presse. Berlin, le 4 juin 2019. La campagne #StopSpyingOnUs est lancée aujourd’hui dans neuf pays de l’UE : 14 organisations de défense des droits humains et (...)

    #BigData #publicité #données #LaQuadratureduNet #CNIL #Liberties

    ##publicité

  • Les modèles économiques reposant sur la publicité ne respectent pas...
    https://diasp.eu/p/9153533

    Les modèles économiques reposant sur la publicité ne respectent pas nos libertés

    Aujourd’hui, ce sont 14 organisations européennes de défenses des libertés qui dénoncent la surveillance publicitaire illégale

    #StopSpyingOnUs #DonnéesPerso

    Lire le communiqué de Liberties, l’association à l’origine de la campagne : https://www.laquadrature.net/?p=14301

  • [bleu-blanc-rouge] soutien collectif lors d’une contestation d’OQTF illégale : la Préfecture n’a même pas consulté le dossier et fait ainsi perdre temps, argent et énergie à tout le monde...
    https://www.flickr.com/photos/valkphotos/47923041777

    Flickr

    ValK. a posté une photo :

    Tribunal Administratif de Nantes, le 22 mai 2019. Rappel : mobilisation européenne #StopDublin le 25 mai 2019. Explication et carte des rendez-vous : http://www.stopdublin.eu

  • Suffering unseen: The dark truth behind wildlife tourism
    https://www.nationalgeographic.com/magazine/2019/06/global-wildlife-tourism-social-media-causes-animal-suffering

    I’ve come back to check on a baby. Just after dusk I’m in a car lumbering down a muddy road in the rain, past rows of shackled elephants, their trunks swaying. I was here five hours before, when the sun was high and hot and tourists were on elephants’ backs.

    Walking now, I can barely see the path in the glow of my phone’s flashlight. When the wooden fence post of the stall stops me short, I point my light down and follow a current of rainwater across the concrete floor until it washes up against three large, gray feet. A fourth foot hovers above the surface, tethered tightly by a short chain and choked by a ring of metal spikes. When the elephant tires and puts her foot down, the spikes press deeper into her ankle.

    Meena is four years and two months old, still a toddler as elephants go. Khammon Kongkhaw, her mahout, or caretaker, told me earlier that Meena wears the spiked chain because she tends to kick. Kongkhaw has been responsible for Meena here at Maetaman Elephant Adventure, near Chiang Mai, in northern Thailand, since she was 11 months old. He said he keeps her on the spiked shackle only during the day and takes it off at night. But it’s night now.

    I ask Jin Laoshen, the Maetaman staffer accompanying me on this nighttime visit, why her chain is still on. He says he doesn’t know.

    Maetaman is one of many animal attractions in and around tourist-swarmed Chiang Mai. People spill out of tour buses and clamber onto the trunks of elephants that, at the prodding of their mahouts’ bullhooks (long poles with a sharp metal hook), hoist them in the air while cameras snap. Visitors thrust bananas toward elephants’ trunks. They watch as mahouts goad their elephants—some of the most intelligent animals on the planet—to throw darts or kick oversize soccer balls while music blares.

    Meena is one of Maetaman’s 10 show elephants. To be precise, she’s a painter. Twice a day, in front of throngs of chattering tourists, Kongkhaw puts a paintbrush in the tip of her trunk and presses a steel nail to her face to direct her brushstrokes as she drags primary colors across paper. Often he guides her to paint a wild elephant in the savanna. Her paintings are then sold to tourists.

    Meena’s life is set to follow the same trajectory as many of the roughly 3,800 captive elephants in Thailand and thousands more throughout Southeast Asia. She’ll perform in shows until she’s about 10. After that, she’ll become a riding elephant. Tourists will sit on a bench strapped to her back, and she’ll give several rides a day. When Meena is too old or sick to give rides—maybe at 55, maybe at 75—she’ll die. If she’s lucky, she’ll get a few years of retirement. She’ll spend most of her life on a chain in a stall.

    Wildlife attractions such as Maetaman lure people from around the world to be with animals like Meena, and they make up a lucrative segment of the booming global travel industry. Twice as many trips are being taken abroad as 15 years ago, a jump driven partly by Chinese tourists, who spend far more on international travel than any other nationality.

    Wildlife tourism isn’t new, but social media is setting the industry ablaze, turning encounters with exotic animals into photo-driven bucket-list toppers. Activities once publicized mostly in guidebooks now are shared instantly with multitudes of people by selfie-taking backpackers, tour-bus travelers, and social media “influencers” through a tap on their phone screens. Nearly all millennials (23- to 38-year-olds) use social media while traveling. Their selfies—of swims with dolphins, encounters with tigers, rides on elephants, and more—are viral advertising for attractions that tout up-close experiences with animals.

    For all the visibility social media provides, it doesn’t show what happens beyond the view of the camera lens. People who feel joy and exhilaration from getting close to wild animals usually are unaware that many of the animals at such attractions live a lot like Meena, or worse.

    Photographer Kirsten Luce and I set out to look behind the curtain of the thriving wildlife tourism industry, to see how animals at various attractions—including some that emphasize their humane care of animals—are treated once the selfie-taking crowds have gone.

    After leaving Maetaman, we take a five-minute car ride up a winding hill to a property announced by a wooden plaque as “Elephant EcoValley: where elephants are in good hands.” There are no elephant rides here. No paint shows or other performances. Visitors can stroll through an open-air museum and learn about Thailand’s national animal. They can make herbal treats for the elephants and paper from elephant dung. They can watch elephants in a grassy, tree-ringed field.

    EcoValley’s guest book is filled with praise from Australians, Danes, Americans—tourists who often shun elephant camps such as Maetaman because the rides and shows make them uneasy. Here, they can see unchained elephants and leave feeling good about supporting what they believe is an ethical establishment. What many don’t know is that EcoValley’s seemingly carefree elephants are brought here for the day from nearby Maetaman—and that the two attractions are actually a single business.

    Meena was brought here once, but she tried to run into the forest. Another young elephant, Mei, comes sometimes, but today she’s at Maetaman, playing the harmonica in the shows. When she’s not doing that, or spending the day at EcoValley, she’s chained near Meena in one of Maetaman’s elephant stalls.

    Meena Kalamapijit owns Maetaman as well as EcoValley, which she opened in November 2017 to cater to Westerners. She says her 56 elephants are well cared for and that giving rides and performing allow them to have necessary exercise. And, she says, Meena the elephant’s behavior has gotten better since her mahout started using the spiked chain.
    Read MoreWildlife Watch
    Why we’re shining a light on wildlife tourism
    Poaching is sending the shy, elusive pangolin to its doom
    How to do wildlife tourism right

    We sit with Kalamapijit on a balcony outside her office, and she explains that when Westerners, especially Americans, stopped coming to Maetaman, she eliminated one of the daily shows to allot time for visitors to watch elephants bathe in the river that runs through the camp.

    “Westerners enjoy bathing because it looks happy and natural,” she says. “But a Chinese tour agency called me and said, ‘Why are you cutting the show? Our customers love to see it, and they don’t care about bathing at all.’ ” Providing separate options is good for business, Kalamapijit says.

    Around the world Kirsten and I watched tourists watching captive animals. In Thailand we also saw American men bear-hug tigers in Chiang Mai and Chinese brides in wedding gowns ride young elephants in the aqua surf on the island of Phuket. We watched polar bears in wire muzzles ballroom dancing across the ice under a big top in Russia and teenage boys on the Amazon River snapping selfies with baby sloths.

    Most tourists who enjoy these encounters don’t know that the adult tigers may be declawed, drugged, or both. Or that there are always cubs for tourists to snuggle with because the cats are speed bred and the cubs are taken from their mothers just days after birth. Or that the elephants give rides and perform tricks without harming people only because they’ve been “broken” as babies and taught to fear the bullhook. Or that the Amazonian sloths taken illegally from the jungle often die within weeks of being put in captivity.

    As we traveled to performance pits and holding pens on three continents and in the Hawaiian Islands, asking questions about how animals are treated and getting answers that didn’t always add up, it became clear how methodically and systematically animal suffering is concealed.

    The wildlife tourism industry caters to people’s love of animals but often seeks to maximize profits by exploiting animals from birth to death. The industry’s economy depends largely on people believing that the animals they’re paying to watch or ride or feed are having fun too.

    It succeeds partly because tourists—in unfamiliar settings and eager to have a positive experience—typically don’t consider the possibility that they’re helping to hurt animals. Social media adds to the confusion: Oblivious endorsements from friends and trendsetters legitimize attractions before a traveler ever gets near an animal.

    There has been some recognition of social media’s role in the problem. In December 2017, after a National Geographic investigative report on harmful wildlife tourism in Amazonian Brazil and Peru, Instagram introduced a feature: Users who click or search one of dozens of hashtags, such as #slothselfie and #tigercubselfie, now get a pop-up warning that the content they’re viewing may be harmful to animals.

    Everyone finds Olga Barantseva on Instagram. “Photographer from Russia. Photographing dreams,” her bio reads. She meets clients for woodland photo shoots with captive wild animals just outside Moscow.

    For her 18th birthday, Sasha Belova treated herself to a session with Barantseva—and a pack of wolves. “It was my dream,” she says as she fidgets with her hair, which had been styled that morning. “Wolves are wild and dangerous.” The wolves are kept in small cages at a petting zoo when not participating in photo shoots.

    The Kravtsov family hired Barantseva to take their first professional family photos—all five family members, shivering and smiling in the birch forest, joined by a bear named Stepan.

    Barantseva has been photographing people and wild animals together for six years. She “woke up as a star,” she says, in 2015, when a couple of international media outlets found her online. Her audience has exploded to more than 80,000 followers worldwide. “I want to show harmony between people and animals,” she says.

    On a raw fall day, under a crown of golden birch leaves on a hill that overlooks a frigid lake, two-and-a-half-year-old Alexander Levin, dressed in a hooded bumblebee sweater, timidly holds Stepan’s paw.

    The bear’s owners, Yury and Svetlana Panteleenko, ply their star with food—tuna fish mixed with oatmeal—to get him to approach the boy. Snap: It looks like a tender friendship. The owners toss grapes to Stepan to get him to open his mouth wide. Snap: The bear looks as if he’s smiling.

    The Panteleenkos constantly move Stepan, adjusting his paws, feeding him, and positioning Alexander as Barantseva, pink-haired, bundled in jeans and a parka, captures each moment. Snap: A photo goes to her Instagram feed. A boy and a bear in golden Russian woods—a picture straight out of a fairy tale. It’s a contemporary twist on a long-standing Russian tradition of exploiting bears for entertainment.

    Another day in the same forest, Kirsten and I join 12 young women who have nearly identical Instagram accounts replete with dreamy photos of models caressing owls and wolves and foxes. Armed with fancy cameras but as yet modest numbers of followers, they all want the audience Barantseva has. Each has paid the Panteleenkos $760 to take identical shots of models with the ultimate prize: a bear in the woods.

    Stepan is 26 years old, elderly for a brown bear, and can hardly walk. The Panteleenkos say they bought him from a small zoo when he was three months old. They say the bear’s work—a constant stream of photo shoots and movies—provides money to keep him fed.

    A video on Svetlana Panteleenko’s Instagram account proclaims: “Love along with some great food can make anyone a teddy :-)”

    And just like that, social media takes a single instance of local animal tourism and broadcasts it to the world.

    When the documentary film Blackfish was released in 2013, it drew a swift and decisive reaction from the American public. Through the story of Tilikum, a distressed killer whale at SeaWorld in Orlando, Florida, the film detailed the miserable life orcas can face in captivity. Hundreds of thousands of outraged viewers signed petitions. Companies with partnership deals, such as Southwest Airlines, severed ties with SeaWorld. Attendance at SeaWorld’s water parks slipped; its stock nose-dived.

    James Regan says what he saw in Blackfish upset him. Regan, honeymooning in Hawaii with his wife, Katie, is from England, where the country’s last marine mammal park closed permanently in 1993. I meet him at Dolphin Quest Oahu, an upscale swim-with-dolphins business on the grounds of the beachfront Kahala Hotel & Resort, just east of Honolulu. The Regans paid $225 each to swim for 30 minutes in a small group with a bottlenose dolphin. One of two Dolphin Quest locations in Hawaii, the facility houses six dolphins.

    Bottlenose dolphins are the backbone of an industry that spans the globe. Swim-with-dolphins operations rely on captive-bred and wild-caught dolphins that live—and interact with tourists—in pools. The popularity of these photo-friendly attractions reflects the disconnect around dolphin experiences: People in the West increasingly shun shows that feature animals performing tricks, but many see swimming with captive dolphins as a vacation rite of passage.

    Katie Regan has wanted to swim with dolphins since she was a child. Her husband laughs and says of Dolphin Quest, “They paint a lovely picture. When you’re in America, everyone is smiling.” But he appreciates that the facility is at their hotel, so they can watch the dolphins being fed and cared for. He brings up Blackfish again.

    Katie protests: “Stop making my dream a horrible thing!”

    Rae Stone, president of Dolphin Quest and a marine mammal veterinarian, says the company donates money to conservation projects and educates visitors about perils that marine mammals face in the wild. By paying for this entertainment, she says, visitors are helping captive dolphins’ wild cousins.

    Stone notes that Dolphin Quest is certified “humane” by American Humane, an animal welfare nonprofit. (The Walt Disney Company, National Geographic’s majority owner, offers dolphin encounters on some vacation excursions and at an attraction in Epcot, one of its Orlando parks. Disney says it follows the animal welfare standards of the Association of Zoos & Aquariums, a nonprofit that accredits more than 230 facilities worldwide.)

    It’s a vigorous debate: whether even places with high standards, veterinarians on staff, and features such as pools filled with filtered ocean water can be truly humane for marine mammals.

    Dolphin Quest’s Stone says yes.

    Critics, including the Humane Society of the United States, which does not endorse keeping dolphins in captivity, say no. They argue that these animals have evolved to swim great distances and live in complex social groups—conditions that can’t be replicated in the confines of a pool. This helps explain why the National Aquarium, in Baltimore, announced in 2016 that its dolphins will be retired to a seaside sanctuary by 2020.

    Some U.S. attractions breed their own dolphins because the nation has restricted dolphin catching in the wild since 1972. But elsewhere, dolphins are still being taken from the wild and turned into performers.

    In China, which has no national laws on captive-animal welfare, dolphinariums with wild-caught animals are a booming business: There are now 78 marine mammal parks, and 26 more are under construction.

    To have the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see rare Black Sea dolphins, people in the landlocked town of Kaluga, a hundred miles from Moscow, don’t have to leave their city. In the parking lot of the Torgoviy Kvartal shopping mall, next to a hardware store, is a white inflatable pop-up aquarium: the Moscow Traveling Dolphinarium. It looks like a children’s bouncy castle that’s been drained of its color.

    Inside the puffy dome, parents buy their kids dolphin-shaped trinkets: fuzzy dolls and Mylar balloons, paper dolphin hats, and drinks in plastic dolphin tumblers. Families take their seats around a small pool. The venue is so intimate that even the cheapest seats, at nine dollars apiece, are within splashing distance.

    “My kids are jumping for joy,” says a woman named Anya, motioning toward her two giddy boys, bouncing in their seats.

    In the middle of the jubilant atmosphere, in water that seems much too shallow and much too murky, two dolphins swim listlessly in circles.

    Russia is one of only a few countries (Indonesia is another) where traveling oceanariums exist. Dolphins and beluga whales, which need to be immersed in water to stay alive, are put in tubs on trucks and carted from city to city in a loop that usually ends when they die. These traveling shows are aboveboard: Russia has no laws that regulate how marine mammals should be treated in captivity.

    The shows are the domestic arm of a brisk Russian global trade in dolphins and small whales. Black Sea bottlenose dolphins can’t be caught legally without a permit, but Russian fishermen can catch belugas and orcas under legal quotas in the name of science and education. Some belugas are sold legally to aquariums around the country. Russia now allows only a dozen or so orcas to be caught each year for scientific and educational purposes, and since April 2018, the government has cracked down on exporting them. But government investigators believe that Russian orcas—which can sell for millions—are being caught illegally for export to China.

    Captive orcas, which can grow to 20 feet long and more than 10,000 pounds, are too big for the traveling shows that typically feature dolphins and belugas. When I contacted the owners of the Moscow Traveling Dolphinarium and another operation, the White Whale Show, in separate telephone calls to ask where their dolphins and belugas come from, both men, Sergey Kuznetsov and Oleg Belesikov, hung up on me.

    Russia’s dozen or so traveling oceanariums are touted as a way to bring native wild animals to people who might never see the ocean.

    “Who else if not us?” says Mikhail Olyoshin, a staffer at one traveling oceanarium. And on this day in Kaluga, as the dolphins perform tricks to American pop songs and lie on platforms for several minutes for photo ops, parents and children express the same sentiment: Imagine, dolphins, up close, in my hometown. The ocean on delivery.

    Owners and operators of wildlife tourism attractions, from high-end facilities such as Dolphin Quest in Hawaii to low-end monkey shows in Thailand, say their animals live longer in captivity than wild counterparts because they’re safe from predators and environmental hazards. Show operators proudly emphasize that the animals under their care are with them for life. They’re family.

    Alla Azovtseva, a longtime dolphin trainer in Russia, shakes her head.

    “I don’t see any sense in this work. My conscience bites me. I look at my animals and want to cry,” says Azovtseva, who drives a red van with dolphins airbrushed on the side. At the moment, she’s training pilot whales to perform tricks at Moscow’s Moskvarium, one of Europe’s largest aquariums (not connected to the traveling dolphin shows). On her day off, we meet at a café near Red Square.

    She says she fell in love with dolphins in the late 1980s when she read a book by John Lilly, the American neuroscientist who broke open our understanding of the animals’ intelligence. She has spent 30 years training marine mammals to do tricks. But along the way she’s grown heartsick from forcing highly intelligent, social creatures to live isolated, barren lives in small tanks.

    “I would compare the dolphin situation with making a physicist sweep the street,” she says. “When they’re not engaged in performance or training, they just hang in the water facing down. It’s the deepest depression.”

    What people don’t know about many aquarium shows in Russia, Azovtseva says, is that the animals often die soon after being put in captivity, especially those in traveling shows. And Azovtseva—making clear she’s referring to the industry at large in Russia and not the Moskvarium—says she knows many aquariums quietly and illegally replace their animals with new ones.

    It’s been illegal to catch Black Sea dolphins in the wild for entertainment purposes since 2003, but according to Azovtseva, aquarium owners who want to increase their dolphin numbers quickly and cheaply buy dolphins poached there. Because these dolphins are acquired illegally, they’re missing the microchips that captive cetaceans in Russia are usually tagged with as a form of required identification.

    Some aquariums get around that, she says, by cutting out dead dolphins’ microchips and implanting them into replacement dolphins.

    “People are people,” Azovtseva says. “Once they see an opportunity, they exploit.” She says she can’t go on doing her work in the industry and that she’s decided to speak out because she wants people to know the truth about the origins and treatment of many of the marine mammals they love watching. We exchange a look—we both know what her words likely mean for her livelihood.

    “I don’t care if I’m fired,” she says defiantly. “When a person has nothing to lose, she becomes really brave.”

    I’m sitting on the edge of an infinity pool on the hilly Thai side of Thailand’s border with Myanmar, at a resort where rooms average more than a thousand dollars a night.

    Out past the pool, elephants roam in a lush valley. Sitting next to me is 20-year-old Stephanie van Houten. She’s Dutch and French, Tokyo born and raised, and a student at the University of Michigan. Her cosmopolitan background and pretty face make for a perfect cocktail of aspiration—she’s exactly the kind of Instagrammer who makes it as an influencer. That is, someone who has a large enough following to attract sponsors to underwrite posts and, in turn, travel, wardrobes, and bank accounts. In 2018, brands—fashion, travel, tech, and more—spent an estimated $1.6 billion on social media advertising by influencers.

    Van Houten has been here, at the Anantara Golden Triangle Elephant Camp & Resort, before. This time, in a fairly standard influencer-brand arrangement, she’ll have a picnic with elephants and post about it to her growing legion of more than 25,000 Instagram followers. In exchange, she gets hundreds of dollars off the nightly rate.

    At Anantara the fields are green, and during the day at least, many of the resort’s 22 elephants are tethered on ropes more than a hundred feet long so they can move around and socialize. Nevertheless, they’re expected to let guests touch them and do yoga beside them.

    After van Houten’s elephant picnic, I watch her edit the day’s hundreds of photos. She selects an image with her favorite elephant, Bo. She likes it, she says, because she felt a connection with Bo and thinks that will come across. She posts it at 9:30 p.m.—the time she estimates the largest number of her followers will be online. She includes a long caption, summing it up as “my love story with this incredible creature,” and the hashtag #stopelephantriding. Immediately, likes from followers stream in—more than a thousand, as well as comments with heart-eyed emoji.

    Anantara is out of reach for anyone but the wealthy—or prominent influencers. Anyone else seeking a similar experience might do a Google search for, say, “Thailand elephant sanctuary.”

    As tourist demand for ethical experiences with animals has grown, affordable establishments, often calling themselves “sanctuaries,” have cropped up purporting to offer humane, up-close elephant encounters. Bathing with elephants—tourists give them a mud bath, splash them in a river, or both—has become very popular. Many facilities portray baths as a benign alternative to elephant riding and performances. But elephants getting baths, like those that give rides and do tricks, will have been broken to some extent to make them obedient. And as long as bathing remains popular, places that offer it will need obedient elephants to keep their businesses going. 


    In Ban Ta Klang, a tiny town in eastern Thailand, modest homes dot the crimson earth. In front of each is a wide, bamboo platform for sitting, sleeping, and watching television.

    But the first thing I notice is the elephants. Some homes have one, others as many as five. Elephants stand under tarps or sheet metal roofs or trees. Some are together, mothers and babies, but most are alone. Nearly all the elephants wear ankle chains or hobbles—cuffs binding their front legs together. Dogs and chickens weave among the elephants’ legs, sending up puffs of red dust.

    Ban Ta Klang—known as Elephant Village—is ground zero in Thailand for training and trading captive elephants.

    “House elephants,” Sri Somboon says, gesturing as he turns down his TV. Next to his outdoor platform, a two-month-old baby elephant runs around his mother. Somboon points across the road to the third elephant in his charge, a three-year-old male tethered to a tree. He’s wrenching his head back and forth and thrashing his trunk around. It looks as if he’s going out of his mind.

    He’s in the middle of his training, Somboon says, and is getting good at painting. He’s already been sold, and when his training is finished, he’ll start working at a tourist camp down south.

    Ban Ta Klang and the surrounding area, part of Surin Province, claim to be the source of more than half of Thailand’s 3,800 captive elephants. Long before the flood of tourists, it was the center of the elephant trade; the animals were caught in the wild and tamed for use transporting logs. Now, every November, hundreds of elephants from here are displayed, bought, and sold in the province’s main town, Surin.

    One evening I sit with Jakkrawan Homhual and Wanchai Sala-ngam. Both 33, they’ve been best friends since childhood. About half the people in Ban Ta Klang who care for elephants, including Homhual, don’t own them. They’re paid a modest salary by a rich owner to breed and train baby elephants for entertainment. As night falls, thousands of termites swarm us, attracted to the single bulb hanging above the bamboo platform. Our conversation turns to elephant training.

    Phajaan is the traditional—and brutal—days- or weeks-long process of breaking a young elephant’s spirit. It has long been used in Thailand and throughout Southeast Asia to tame wild elephants, which still account for many of the country’s captives. Under phajaan, elephants are bound with ropes, confined in tight wooden structures, starved, and beaten repeatedly with bullhooks, nails, and hammers until their will is crushed. The extent to which phajaan persists in its harshest form is unclear. Since 2012, the government has been cracking down on the illegal import of elephants taken from the forests of neighboring Myanmar, Thailand’s main source of wild-caught animals.

    I ask the men how baby elephants born in captivity are broken and trained.

    When a baby is about two years old, they say, mahouts tie its mother to a tree and slowly drag the baby away. Once separated, the baby is confined. Using a bullhook on its ear, they teach the baby to move: left, right, turn, stop. To teach an elephant to sit, Sala-ngam says, “we tie up the front legs. One mahout will use a bullhook at the back. The other will pull a rope on the front legs.” He adds: “To train the elephant, you need to use the bullhook so the elephant will know.”

    Humans identify suffering in other humans by universal signs: People sob, wince, cry out, put voice to their hurt. Animals have no universal language for pain. Many animals don’t have tear ducts. More creatures still—prey animals, for example—instinctively mask symptoms of pain, lest they appear weak to predators. Recognizing that a nonhuman animal is in pain is difficult, often impossible.

    But we know that animals feel pain. All mammals have a similar neuroanatomy. Birds, reptiles, and amphibians all have pain receptors. As recently as a decade ago, scientists had collected more evidence that fish feel pain than they had for neonatal infants. A four-year-old human child with spikes pressing into his flesh would express pain by screaming. A four-year-old elephant just stands there in the rain, her leg jerking in the air.

    Of all the silently suffering animals I saw in pools and pens around the world, two in particular haunt me: an elephant and a tiger.

    They lived in the same facility, Samut Prakan Crocodile Farm and Zoo, about 15 miles south of Bangkok. The elephant, Gluay Hom, four years old, was kept under a stadium. The aging tiger, Khai Khem, 22, spent his days on a short chain in a photo studio. Both had irrefutable signs of suffering: The emaciated elephant had a bent, swollen leg hanging in the air and a large, bleeding sore at his temple. His eyes were rolled back in his head. The tiger had a dental abscess so severe that the infection was eating through the bottom of his jaw.

    When I contacted the owner of the facility, Uthen Youngprapakorn, to ask about these animals, he said the fact that they hadn’t died proved that the facility was caring for them properly. He then threatened a lawsuit.

    Six months after Kirsten and I returned from Thailand, we asked Ryn Jirenuwat, our Bangkok-based Thai interpreter, to check on Gluay Hom and Khai Khem. She went to Samut Prakan and watched them for hours, sending photos and video. Gluay Hom was still alive, still standing in the same stall, leg still bent at an unnatural angle. The elephants next to him were skin and bones. Khai Khem was still chained by his neck to a hook in the floor. He just stays in his dark corner, Jirenuwat texted, and when he hears people coming, he twists on his chain and turns his back to them.

    “Like he just wants to be swallowed by the wall.”

    #tourisme #nos_ennemis_les_bêtes

  • #STOP1921, club social de chanvre et thérapies psychéliques
    http://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/clip-radio/-stop1921-club-social-de-chanvre-et-therapies-psycheliques

    Au programme :

    Sébastien Alexandre, directeur de la FEDITO (fédération bruxelloise des institutions pour toxicomanes), viendra nous présenter la campagne #STOP1921 : www.stop1921.be Xavier de "Tire ton plant", club social de chanvre, reviendra notamment sur leur procès : www.trektuwplant.be Olivier, réalisateur du documentaire radio « Takiwasi, la maison qui chante », reviendra sur une cure de désintox singulière proposée au Péru. David, qui parlera de sa propre expérience avec l’iboga, une plante visionnaire issue du Gabon.

    Plus d’infos sur la soirée :

    "La loi #drogues a été écrite le 24 février 1921. Il est temps de la changer. Viens célébrer les funestes 98 ans d’une loi d’un autre temps et, par la même occasion, les 30 ans de la Liaison Antiprohibitionniste !"

    le 23 février dès (...)

    #prohibition #ayahuasca #iboga #cannabis_social_club #psychotropes #thérapie #désintoxication #drogues,prohibition,ayahuasca,iboga,cannabis_social_club,psychotropes,thérapie,désintoxication
    http://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/clip-radio/-stop1921-club-social-de-chanvre-et-therapies-psycheliques_06347__1.mp3

  • Association Maiouri Nature Guyane
    https://sites.google.com/site/maiourinature/les-liens-qui-liberent

    2 Mars 2019
    #StopMontagne d’or : la nouvelle infographie 2019...

    Découvrez la nouvelle infographie Or de Question sur le projet #Montagnedor sous ses plus sombres aspects :
    A télécharger LÀ en jpg (basse résolution) ou en pdf (haute résolution) ICI.

    1 - UN MIRAGE ÉCONOMIQUE :

    Les bureaux d’études spécialisés le confirment (Action WWF) :
    - Un mirage économique,
    - Pour un vrai développement économique,
    - Le rapport Deloitte des potentiels du développement,
    - Le Rapport DME qui révèle la surestimation des promesses d’emplois et retombées économiques du projet minier.

    2 - UNE CATASTROPHE ENVIRONNEMENTALE :

    - Les 20 raisons de dire NON à ce projet minier
    - La Mine qui gâche la forêt : la vidéo qui en dit long
    - Démonstration gesticulée selon Max Bird
    - Rupture de digues : deux catastrophes par an dans le monde : Exemples du Brésil en 2015 et 2019
    - La Soif de l’or et la pollution à l’arsenic au Brésil, le reportage du magazine Investigation de France Ô.
    - Cyanure en forêt tropicale humide : le mariage impossible (en construction)
    https://sites.google.com/site/maiourinature/top-20-bloublou-fini/COUV_TOP20_leger.jpg?attredirects=0

    3 : UN POTENTIEL FUTUR SCANDALE SANITAIRE :

    - Les métaux lourds et le Drainage Minier Acide dans le projet Montagne d’or (en construction)
    - Le scandale des pollutions minières (Cellule d’investigation de France-inter)
    - La pollution à l’arsenic : rançon de la ruée vers l’or dans l’hexagone.

    4 - UN BOULEVERSEMENT SOCIAL ET HUMANITAIRE :

    - Deux enquêtes sur les liens étroits entre politiciens, fonctionnaires et miniers : (par Médiapart ICI & LA)
    - Un grave risque de conflit social : voir le long métrage « Le dernier combat des capitaines de Guyane »
    - L’exemple de Nordgold au Burkina Faso (Action de Carême)
    - L’exemple de Nordgold en Guinée (Cellule d’investigation de France-inter)

    5 - UN PROJET DU MAUVAIS CÔTÉ DE L’HISTOIRE

    - 25 raisons de dire OUI AUX FILIÈRES D’EMPLOIS D’AVENIR
    - L’Etude Deloitte des potentiels du développement durable (WWF) :

    5 - SUR LES ONDES DE RADIO FRANCE !

    – « Comme un bruit qui court », émission de France-inter. Le reporter Giv Anquetil a passé une semaine en Guyane. A écouter absolument, « Entre Montagne d’or et forage Off-shore » (9 fev.) puis « La forêt est un champ de bataille » (2 mars)

    – France-Culture et Véronique Rebeyrotte ont aussi traversé l’Atlantique : A écouter « La montagne de la discorde » (invités I. Autissier, I. Casillo, M. Vallo) et le Grand Reportage « Bon ou mauvais filon ? ». (Invité Jean-Matthieu Thévenot d’ingénieurs sans frontières Système d’Extraction).

    – Fin 2018, Igor Strauss de Radio France international qu’a consacré une émission : C’est pas du vent !

    6 - POUR ÊTRE INCOLLABLE SUR LE SUJET :


    Or de Question, fondé en juillet 2016, est un Collectif citoyen opposé aux projets industriels d’exploitation minière en Guyane. Il est au coeur de la convergence des Résistances contre ce projet minier. Il a reçu à ce titre le Prix Danielle Mitterrand en 2017.

  • #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition
    http://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/fiesta-panik/-stop-1921-30-ans-d-antiprohibition-4

    Ce soir Fiesta Panik s’installe au Barlok.

    A l’occasion de l’évenement : #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition, Fiesta Panik rejoint les autres émission de Radio Panik pour un live d’enfer depuis le plus tordu des endroits : Le Barlok !

    Alors Rejoignez-nous sur place ou sur les ondes (105.4 FM ou sur www.radiopanik.org), on va faire vibrer votre corps !

    émission en direct depuis le Barlok à l’occasion de ceci :

    Soirée #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition.

    « La loi drogues a été écrite le 24 février 1921. Il est temps de la changer. Viens célébrer les funestes 98 ans d’une loi d’un autre temps et, par la même occasion, les 30 ans de la Liaison Antiprohibitionniste ! »

    le 23 février dès 18h00

    Barlok 53 bis avenue du Port, 1000

    # Dès 18h Des émissions spéciales en direct et (...)

    http://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/fiesta-panik/-stop-1921-30-ans-d-antiprohibition-4_06287__1.mp3

  • #chroniques_mutantes #197
    http://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/chroniques-mutantes-/chroniques-mutantes-197

    Chroniques Mutantes n°197 du 23 février 2019.

    Soirée #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition.

    « La loi drogues a été écrite le 24 février 1921. Il est temps de la changer. Viens célébrer les funestes 98 ans d’une loi d’un autre temps et, par la même occasion, les 30 ans de la Liaison Antiprohibitionniste ! »

    Présentation de la campagne #stop1921 + discussion sur le chemsex avec Ex-Aequo et ALIAS)

    #punk #transpédégouine #feminism #anarchism #Queer #punk,transpédégouine,chroniques_mutantes,feminism,anarchism,Queer
    http://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/chroniques-mutantes-/chroniques-mutantes-197_06267__1.mp3

  • Enigme sonore du 19 février - Soirée #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition
    http://www.radiopanik.org/emissions/les-promesses-de-l-aube/soiree-stop-1921-30-ans-d-antiprohibition

    Ce matin, on reçoit Mathieu Bietlot, Président de la Liaison Antiprohibitionniste et Sébastien Alexandre, directeur de la Fedito BXL pour parler de la Soirée #STOP 1921 + 30 ans d’antiprohibition.

    « La loi #Drogues a été écrite le 24 février 1921. Il est temps de la changer. Viens célébrer les funestes 98 ans d’une loi d’un autre temps et, par la même occasion, les 30 ans de la Liaison Antiprohibitionniste ! »

    le 23 février dès 18h00

    Barlok 53 bis avenue du Port, 1000

    # Dès 18h Des émissions spéciales en direct et en public avec le studio mobile de Radio Panik :

    18h -19h : « Chroniques mutantes » ( Présentation de la campagne #stop1921 + discussion sur le chemsex avec Ex-Aequo et ALIAS) 19h - 20h : « Les Boromites » * 20h - 21h30 : « CLIP Radio » (Les cannabis social clubs et les thérapies (...)

    #STOP1921 #prohibition #STOP1921,Drogues,prohibition
    http://www.radiopanik.org/media/sounds/les-promesses-de-l-aube/soiree-stop-1921-30-ans-d-antiprohibition_06211__0.mp3