Chrysalis Spring 2021 Issue

Spring 2021 | Vol. XIII

The Undergraduate Journal of International Development Studies

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COPYRIGHT

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-No Derivatives 4.0 International License. .

To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/legalcode Chrysalis is annually published by the International Development Studies Students’ Association (IDSSA) of McGill University in Montreal, Canada.

Chrysalis est publié annuellement par l’IDSSA de l’Université McGill à Montréal, Canada.

To view electronic copies of the journal, visit www.idssamcgill.com/publications.

Pour voir une copie électronique de ce journal, visitez www.idssamcgill.com/publications.

ISSN(Print) : 1198-6123 ISSN(Web) : 2369-8624 The opinions expressed in Chrysalis are those of the authors and contributors, and do not necessarily reflect those of the editorial board, the peer review board or McGill University.

Les opinions présentées dans Chrysalis représentent celles des auteurs.rices et des contributeurs.trices, et non celles des éditeurs.rices, de l’IDSSA ou de l’université McGill.

Chrysalis recognizes that McGill University is located on the traditional land of the Kanien’keha:ka, a place that has long served as a site of meeting and exchange amongst Indigenous peoples, including the Haudenosaunee and Anishinabeg nations.

Chrysalis reconnaît que l’Université McGill est située sur le territoire traditionnel des Kanien’keha:ka, un endroit qui a longtemps servi comme site de rencontre et d’échange entre les peuples autochtones, y compris les nations Haudenosaunee et Anishinabeg.

This journal was made possible thanks to a generous contribution from the Financial Management Committee (FMC) of the Arts Undergraduate Society (AUS) at McGill University.

Ce journal est rendu possible grâce à une généreuse contribution du Financial Management Committee (FMC) de l'Association Étudiante de la Faculté des Arts de Premier Cycle de l'Université McGill.

Land Acknowledgement

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McGill University is located on land which has long served as a site of meeting and exchange amongst Indigenous peoples. Currently, we reside in Tiohtià:ke (Montréal), which is located on the larger Turtle Island (North America). We exist on unceded traditional territory, where by the Haudenosaunee and Anishinabeg nations, specifically the Kanien’kehá:ka peoples, also known as the Keepers of the Eastern Door, are the traditional stewards of these lands and waters. It is important that we move forward keeping this constantly in our minds, so that we can actively resist neocolonialism in all of its shapes, forms, and manifestations.

Reconnaissance des terres

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L’Université McGill est située sur une terre qui a longtemps servi de lieu de rencontre et d’échange entre les peuples autochtones. Nous résidons actuellement à Tiohtià:ke (Montréal), qui est située sur la plus grande île aux tortues (Amérique du Nord). Nous existons sur un territoire traditionnel non cédé, où les nations Haudenosaunee et Anishinabeg, en particulier les peuples Kanien’kehá: ka, également connus comme les Gardiens de la porte orientale, sont les gardiens traditionnels de ces terres et de ces eaux. Il est important que nous allions de l'avant en gardant cela constamment dans nos esprits, afin de pouvoir activement résister a u néo-colonialisme sous toutes ses formes et manifestations.

Table of Contents

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| Our Team | Notre Équipe

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| Editor’s Note | Lettre du Rédacteur-en-chef by Robin Vochelet

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| Foreword | Avant-Propos by Professor Manuel Balán

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10 | Chador aur Chardevari: The Veil and Women’s Agency in Pakistan by Mahnoor Ali Syed 19 | Industrial Animal Agriculture in the Brazilian Amazon: Environmental and Ethical Disaster by Kate Grantham 28 | The Perceptions of Refugees and Immigrants as Biological by Delphine Polidori 42 | Land Grabbing in Laos: The Legacies of Conflict on Contemporary Decision-Making

by Shannon Greisman 48 | Where the Discursive Meets the Practical: Nation-Building in West Papua by Kai Scott 63 | Navigating Feminism and Self-Determination: Indigenous Women’s Movements and Indigenous Feminism in Canada and Internationally by Clara Sedzro 72 | Renewed Civil War in Libya: Assessing Potential Outcomes by Celia Benhocine 88 | Reimagining Jamaican Black National Identity Through the Voices of the Dispossessed: A Counter-Hegemonic Movement by Shaquiera Hamilton 99 | Water Sanitation Security: The Implementation of Autonomous Desalination in the Gaza Strip

by Barbara Clark 112 | Project Brighten: A Solar Energy Initiative in the Slums of Mumbai by Anna Abramova, Sophie Gaudreau, Shaydah Ghom, and Ilsa Weinstein-Wright 119 | Meet the Editors | Rencontrez nos éditeurs 123 | Submission & Review Process | Processus de soumission et de révision

Our Team | Notre équipe Editor-in-Chief | Rédacteur-en-chef Robin Vochelet Editorial Board | Comité éditorial Zachary Beresin Karen Kimata Emma-Jane Ni Max Shapiro Isabella Tortone Sophie Wirzba Peer Review Board | Comité de révision Peer Reviewers | Réviseurs Mentors Matthias Hoenisch Dr. Francesco Amodio Maya Nee Dr. Manuel Balán Vishaldip Rattan Dr. Yann le Polain de Waroux Eli Remis Dr. Blair Peruniak Conrad von Moltke Dr. Kazue Takamura Kelly Yeung Translation | Traduction Brigitte Deschatelets Grace Iu King Chee Layout Editors | Éditrices de mise en page Hanna Agro Sena Lee

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Editor’s Note

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Dear readers, It goes without saying that the 2020-2021 academic year tested our strength and resilience in more ways than one. As the COVID-19 pandemic swept the entire world, forcing us into our homes and abruptly ending university life as we knew it, many socio-economic inequalities that have long persisted were forcibly brought into the spotlight, sparking one of the largest social movements ever. Beyond Black Lives Matter, the past year also saw a concerning decline in the quality of democracy across the globe, as spectacularly demonstrated by the Capitol Hill riots in January 2021, or the military coup in Myanmar the following month.

Yet, this is not the story that I want to showcase here; if anything, the Spring 2021 edition of Chrysalis is a story of hope and combativity, one that I wish will embolden students in international development. I am honoured to introduce such a compelling body of work, that not only reflects the best of undergraduate research currently taking place at McGill University, but also the diversity of our program and our student body. Throughout my time at Chrysalis, I have strived to create a safe and inclusive environment where students in international development and adjacent disciplines could share their opinion, insight, and expertise on this fascinating field, and I hope this journal represents my commitment.

Words cannot describe how fulfilling the Chrysalis experience was for me. After two years spent as an editor for the journal, I got to step into the shoes of the Editor-in-Chief to help shape the publication’s latest edition. In this sense, Chrysalis represents a significant part of my undergraduate experience at McGill, one for which I am eternally grateful. Over the past three years, I had the opportunity to work alongside inspiring individuals, who pushed me to continuously question my own knowledge and understanding of the world. I wish to thank the editorial board for their passion and enthusiasm throughout the year; it is their dedication that fuels this journal. I also want to thank my translators for helping me ensure Chrysalis remains accessible to the Francophone community at McGill. The insights brought forward by our peer-reviewers and mentor professors have also played a pivotal role in the making of this latest issue of Chrysalis. Acknowledgements would not be total without thanking my layout editors — Hanna Agro and Sena Lee — for creating this edition’s stunning visuals. Finally, this journal would not have been possible without the unconditional support from my colleagues at the IDSSA. As you read through these pages, I hope you find the inspiration to pursue your journey in the fascinating field that is international development.

With gratitude, Robin Vochelet Editor-in-Chief

Lettre du Rédacteur en chef

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Chers lecteurs, chères lectrices,

Il va sans dire que l’année universitaire 2020-2021 a mis à l’épreuve, de manière différente, notre force et notre résilience . Alors que la pandémie de COVID-19 a balayé le monde entier, nous forçant à rentrer chez nous et mettant brutalement fin à la vie universitaire telle que nous la connaissons, de nombreuses inégalités socio-économiques qui persistent depuis longtemps ont été mises en lumière de force, déclenchant l’un des plus grands mouvements sociaux de tous les temps. Au-delà de Black Lives Matter, l’année écoulée a également été marquée par un déclin inquiétant de la qualité de la démocratie dans le monde, comme l’ont démontré de manière spectaculaire les émeutes du Capitole en janvier 2021 ou le coup d’État militaire au Myanmar le mois suivant.

Pourtant, ce n’est pas cette histoire que je veux présenter ici ; l’édition printemps 2021 de Chrysalis est plutôt une histoire d’espoir et de combativité, une histoire qui, je l’espère, encouragera les étudiants en développement international. C’est un honneur pour moi de présenter un ensemble de travaux aussi riches, qui reflètent non seulement le meilleur de la recherche de premier cycle actuellement menée à l’Université McGill, mais aussi la diversité de notre programme et de notre corps étudiant. Tout au long de mon séjour à Chrysalis, je me suis efforcé de créer un environnement sûr et inclusif où les étudiants.es en développement international et dans les disciplines adjacentes pourraient partager leurs opinions, leurs idées et leur expertise sur ce domaine fascinant, et j’espère que ce journal reflète mon engagement.

Les mots ne peuvent pas décrire à quel point l’expérience Chrysalis a été enrichissante pour moi. Après deux ans passés en tant qu’éditeur pour la revue, j’ai pu entrer dans la peau du rédacteur-en-chef pour aider à façonner la dernière édition de la publication. En ce sens, Chrysalis représente une partie importante de mon expérience de premier cycle à McGill, une expérience pour laquelle je suis éternellement reconnaissant. Au cours des trois dernières années, j’ai eu l’occasion de travailler aux côtés de personnes inspirantes, qui m’ont poussé à remettre continuellement en question mes propres connaissances et ma compréhension du monde. Je souhaite remercier le comité éditorial pour sa passion et son enthousiasme tout au long de l’année ; c’est leur dévouement qui alimente cette revue. Je tiens également à remercier mes traductrices qui m’ont aidé à faire en sorte que Chrysalis reste accessible à la communauté francophone de McGill. Les points de vue exprimés par nos pairs évaluateurs et nos professeurs mentors ont également joué un rôle essentiel dans la réalisation de ce dernier numéro de Chrysalis. Les remerciements ne seraient pas totaux sans remercier mes éditrices de mise en page - Hanna Agro et Sena Lee - pour avoir créé les superbes visuels de ce numéro. Enfin, cette revue n’aurait pas été possible sans le soutien inconditionnel de mes collègues de l’IDSSA. En parcourant ces pages, j’espère que vous trouverez l’inspiration pour poursuivre votre parcours dans ce domaine fascinant qu’est le développement international.

Avec toute ma gratitude, Robin Vochelet Rédacteur-en-Chef

Foreword

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by Professor Manuel Balán I have had the pleasure to witness Chrysalis’ growth over my years at McGill, and I was very glad to be invited to write the foreword for this 2021 edition. The last year has been challenging for people around the world, and the field of international development has been, as many others, deeply affected by the Covid-19 pandemic. In this context, it is a remarkable achievement that McGill students have been able to produce another high quality and high impact issue of Chrysalis. As a 100% student-run initiative organized by the McGill International Development Studies Students Association, Chrysalis serves as a key platform for students to pursue their interests and engage with development questions that many times are born in the classroom but that go far beyond. This issue includes nine original papers and an award-winning policy brief, which deal with a range of the most pressing issues in international development such as women’s agency, the intersection of feminism and indigeneity as it relates to self-determination, race and social movements, refugees and migrants’ perceptions, disasters and the environment, nation building, conflict, and governance of natural resources. The contributors’ insights are sure to generate more fruitful debate and provide us all with valuable food for thought. Many congratulations to the editors, IDSSA, and all the contributors for another high-quality edition of Chrysalis. Keep ‘em coming!

Manuel Balán Acting Director, Institute for the Study of International Development Associate Professor, Department of Political Science / Institute for the Study of International Development McGill University

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Avant-Propos du Professeur Manuel Balán

J’ai eu le plaisir d’assister à la croissance de Chrysalis au cours de mes années à McGill, et j’ai été très heureux d’être invité à écrire l’avant-propos de cette édition 2021. L’année dernière a été difficile pour la majorité des individus à travers le monde, et le domaine du développement international a été, comme beaucoup d’autres, profondément touché par la pandémie de Covid-19.

Dans ce contexte, il est remarquable que les étudiants de McGill aient réussi à produire un autre numéro de Chrysalis étant d’une grande qualité et ayant un fort impact. Étant une initiative gérée à 100 % par les étudiants et organisée par l’Association des étudiants en études du développement international de McGill, Chrysalis est une plateforme clé permettant à ces derniers de poursuivre leurs intérêts et d’interagir avec des questions de développement qui prennent souvent vie en salle de classe mais qui vont bien au-delà de celles-ci. Ce numéro comprend neuf articles originaux et un project de politique publique primé, traitant d’un éventail de questions les plus urgentes en matière de développement international, telles que l’agencement des femmes, l’intersection du féminisme et de l’indigénéité en ce qui concerne l’autodétermination, la race et les mouvements sociaux, les perceptions des réfugiés et des migrants, les catastrophes et l’environnement, la construction de la nation, les conflits et la gouvernance des ressources naturelles.

Les idées des contributeurs ne manqueront pas de susciter des débats plus fructueux et de nous fournir à tous de précieuses pistes de réflexion. Toutes mes félicitations aux éditeurs, à l’IDSSA et à tous les contributeurs pour cette nouvelle édition de haute qualité de Chrysalis. Continuez comme ça !

Manuel Balán Directeur par intérim, Institut d’étude du développement international Professeur associé, Département des sciences politiques / Institut d’étude du développement international Université McGill

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Abstract There has been growing scholarly attention towards the emphasis on the veil in different forms amongst Muslim women around the world. This paper focuses on veil and its implications for Muslim women in Pakistan. One of the major themes of the paper is to discuss whether or not most Pakistani Muslim women wear the veil, or similar ornaments used for covering, out of choice.

In discussing choice, the paper also considers the social contexts and settings under which Pakistani Muslim women often make that choice. Lila Abu-Lughod’s work around how Muslim women around the world make the active choice of wearing the veil is used as a fundamental theoretical framework for the paper to consider possibilities and cases where Muslim women make the active choice to wear the veil. However, using scholarly work including research papers and narratives in literature, the implications of the veil when contextualized in a larger patriarchal society with women’s modesty often used as tools of social control, it is contested that veiling has remained an active choice. Thus, it is also argued that when veiling is a result of social pressures and has implications of concealing, it can be limiting for Pakistani Muslim women’s agency.

Résumé Les universitaires s’intéressent de plus en plus à l’importance accordée au voile sous différentes formes par les femmes musulmanes du monde entier. Cet ouvrage se focalise sur le port du voile et ses implications pour les femmes musulmanes au Pakistan. L’un des principaux thèmes de l’ouvrage est de déterminer si oui ou non la plupart des femmes musulmanes pakistanaises font le choix de porter le voile ou d’autres ornements semblables conçus pour se couvrir. En discutant du choix, l’ouvrage examine également les divers contextes sociaux et les cadres dans lesquels les femmes musulmanes pakistanaises font souvent ce choix. Les travaux de Lila AbuLughod sur la manière dont les femmes musulmanes du monde entier choisissent activement de porter le voile servent de cadre théorique fondamental pour l’étude des possibilités et des cas où les femmes musulmanes choisissent activement de porter le voile. Toutefois, en utilisant des travaux universitaires, y compris des documents de recherche et des récits littéraires, les implications du voile lorsqu’il est contextualisé dans une société patriarcale plus vaste où la modestie des femmes est souvent utilisée comme outil de contrôle social, il est contesté que le port du voile est resté un choix actif. Ainsi, il est également soutenu que lorsque le voile est le résultat de pressions sociales et comporte des implications de dissimulation, il peut être contraignant pour l’emprise des femmes musulmanes pakistanaises.

Introduction “Chador aur Chardevari” (veil and four-walled covering) was a slogan used by Zia-ul-Haq during his military regime in Pakistan in the 1970s and 1980s. The slogan translates to “women veiled and within the confines of home,” with chador meaning veil and chardevari meaning the four walls of home, literally. During his military regime, Zia-ul-Haq imposed policies of “Islamization” which had perpetuating effects on the legal and socio-political systems. In the discourse of dissecting these effects, there has been particular focus on women’s conditions under the regime. Many policies under Islamization and the Hudood Ordinance focused on ensuring that women’s participation in society was limited to the Islamic framework and its constraints. This paper will discuss the connotations and implications that policies focused on policing women’s public and private lives have on women’s agency.

Advocating for women’s rights and agency within the constraints of such an Islamic framework has remained a paradox for Pakistani feminists and significant work has been contributed to this discourse. Thus, this paper will incorporate work on this topic to explore and answer the following research question: how plausible is it for women’s movements in Pakistan to advocate for women’s agency within Islamic constraints? With the use of relevant arguments in literature, this essay will explore the limitations around discourse about advocacy of women’s rights and agency within the constraints of the Islamic framework and the legacy of Islamization under Zia-ul-Haq. This paper will argue that feminist movements that operate within the constraints of Islamic framework and Chador and Chardevari would face fundamental limitations in addressing structural issues that surround women’s agency in Pakistan.

The Veil and Implications in Pakistan In light of Lila Abu-Lughod’s work, in “Do Muslim Women Need Saving?” surrounding cultural relativism and the understanding of the different meanings attached to the veil by different women around the world , this paper will discuss literature to dissect the various meanings Pakistani women attach to veil.1

Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving?

Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others.

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Syed | 12

Abu-Lughod argues that the practise and symbolism around the veil are multi-nuanced as they are products and expressions of different histories, circumstances and manifestations of diverse structured desires.2 This section will discuss the connotations and implications of the veil in Pakistan and a/the women’s reasons for wearing it. In doing so, the veil will be discussed both as a practise and a concept (chador aur chardevari), often used in political slogans, perpetuating values around women’s modesty and conduct.

The manifestation of the veil embodies different forms in Pakistan, and some of these are the following: hijaab (a headscarf), niqaab (covering of the face), burqah (loose clothing that covers the entire body), chaadar (a shawl used to cover the chest) and dupatta (a shorter version of the chaadar). Hanna Papaneck (1982) worked in Pakistan and did research on the veil; she described the Burqah as “portable seclusion.”3 According to Papaneck, many women found the Burqah liberating because it made it possible for them to have interactions, work and step outside the confines of their households (chaardevari).4 The men in Pakistani households held power over decision making and were largely considered guardians of women and their modesty. As the veil was seen to ensure women’s modesty in public and especially when interacting with unrelated men, it became an important ornament for women to step outside segregated living spaces while still maintaining moral requirements of appearance and conduct in public. In extension of Papaneck’s idea of “portable seclusion,” Abu-Lughod thinks of the Burqah as “mobile homes.” Even when the women move, they embody the values of their communities and households.5

American Anthropologist, 104(3), 784.

Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving?

Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others.

American Anthropologist, 104(3), 784.

3 Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving?

Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others.

American Anthropologist, 104(3), 785.

4 Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving?

Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others.

American Anthropologist, 104(3), 785.

5 Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving?

2

Syed | 13 According to Anjum Alvi, one of the core values associated with women’s conduct, interaction with unrelated men, appearance in public and confinement to the privacy of households is sharam. In the literal sense, sharam translates to shyness or shame; in the Pakistani context, however, the concept of sharam encapsulates many values including modesty, morality, piety, the maintenance of honor and the control of female sexuality.6 Similarly, Carroll Pasiner notes that sharam refers to concepts of correct conduct, and in particular, the sexual conduct of women. The women’s sharam reflected upon the status of male family members.7 Based on the findings from research in an oasis named Panjgur in Balochistan, Carroll argues that it was considered male relatives’ responsibility to control women’s sharam to maintain the family’s honour.8 Thus, it can be argued that sharam is a rather gendered concept skewed towards women bearing the burden of maintaining their male family members’ honor and the men ensuring that the women remain modest. The stress on physical modesty of women and the covering of specific body parts also reflects the sexual connotation of such values.

Anjum Alvi discusses the manifestation of such a value system in “Concealment and Revealment.” Through her fieldwork in a village in Punjab named Malot, Alvi found that men wanted women related to them to stay confined within households--the chaardevari. The village men met each other outside in deras (meeting spots) because the households were considered to be women’s spaces.9 Such norms had the implication and connotation of keeping women’s contact with unrelated men limited because this was considered part of

Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others.

American Anthropologist, 104(3), 785.

6 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 178.

7 Pastner, C. M. (1972). A social structural and historical analysis of honor, shame and Purdah. Anthropological Quarterly, 45(4), 250.

8 Pastner, C. M. (1972). A social structural and historical analysis of honor, shame and Purdah. Anthropological Quarterly, 45(4), 251.

9 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 181.

safeguarding their sharam. Alvi notes that the women covered their sharam with the dupatta; they were conscious of wearing the dupatta correctly in front of close male relatives as well.10 Such norms demonstrate how women’s interaction with men, even close relatives, was controlled. This nature of interpersonal relations and control over interactions has the effect of limiting women’s agency to access opportunities outside their households. Moreover, Alvi also found that Punjabi men gave their daughters chaadars (shawls) as gifts upon marriage as a symbol of safeguarding their modesty.11 Such norms and rituals indicate that men make consistent efforts to ensure that women continue to live up to the values of modesty; it is safe to claim that women are seen as carriers of the men’s honor and reputation. In a culture of men actively trying to maintain honor and control female sexuality, women’s agency over their own lives remains limited. This concept has been summarised precisely by Papaneck in the following words: “Women’s proper behaviour, as sheltered persons, becomes an important measure of the status of their protectors.” (Papaneck 1971: 519).12 Alvi further notes that families of particularly high or law status often choose to form marriage bonds in exchange for women to ensure the safeguarding of the women’s sharam.13 This means that women have to conform to the same frameworks of morality and modesty after they are married, and in fact, the institution of marriage plays a role in ensuring this conformity. With the moral responsibility to, then, maintain their husband and in laws’ honor, the woman’s agency over her life physiologically remains arguably limited.

As discussed, authors have written on how the concept of Purdah (veil) does not remain limited to what women wear but extends to other manifestations like segregated living arrangements and limited interaction

10

Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 180.

11 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 184.

12 Pastner, C. M. (1972). A social structural and historical analysis of honor, shame and Purdah. Anthropological Quarterly, 45(4), 251.

13 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2),186.

Syed | 14 with men. This concept is presented in Ismat Chughtai’s novel “Purdah,” where she describes women in Purdah as caged animals.14 The cage is a metaphor for living arrangements controlled by men. Chugtai further notes that in such arrangements women remain dependent on men for resources for survival, since their own activities remain significantly limited to the household.15 In Purdah, women thus competed against other women to gain influence over the men who were the source of survival. Thus, the relationships between women were arranged such that there were hostilities between wives and mothers in law, sisters in law etc.

According to Chugtai, such a competition between women ensures that they do not unite against those responsible for their condition and lack of agency: men.

Purdah, thus, played a role in ensuring they never united against men and the systems and arrangements perpetuated.16 Even though the days of Purdah have ended in the literal sense, values of modesty and sharam perpetuate and so do hostilities in women’s relationships with each other. With values like modesty and control over female sexuality and life, the patriarchy creates women who actively embrace norms that perpetuate their own subjugation in the long run.17 Women try to fight from within the system; while maintaining the values of Purdah and competing against other women, it is not very probable for women to unite against the larger value system and consequently claim agency over their own lives.

Imtiaz Dharker, as a Pakistani Muslim woman herself, criticises the Purdah in her poem “Purdah.” Dharker views the Purdah as an agent of patriarchal control, making the wearer eventually feel suffocated.18 According to Dharker, the Purdah when imposed, either directly or through values, violates women’s individuality, expression and freedom.19 The following is an

Zakaria, R. (2020). A Return to Purdah. Dawn, 10.04.2020.

15 Zakaria, R. (2020). A Return to Purdah. Dawn, 10.04.2020.

16 Zakaria, R. (2020). A Return to Purdah. Dawn, 10.04.2020.

17 Zakaria, R. (2020). A Return to Purdah. Dawn, 10.04.2020.

18 Singh, N. Unveiling the Veiled Face: Imtiaz Dharker’s ‘Purdah’ and the Colonial Stereotype. International Journal of English Language, Literature and Humanities, 2,5 (2015), 459.

19 Singh, N. Unveiling the Veiled Face: Imtiaz Dharker’s ‘Purdah’ 14

extract from Dharker’s poem: “Purdah is a kind of safety.

The body finds a place to hide.

The cloth fans out against the skin Much like the earth that falls On coffins after they put dead men in.”20 Perhaps, Darker uses death imagery to symbolize how women lose individuality and agency over their own choice with the kind of politics and social control mechanism which manifest in many ways including the veil.

It is important to consider that many Pakistani women actively choose to wear the veil and view it as liberating because it enables them to access opportunities and resources outside their households. As highlighted by Hanna Papaneck and extended by Lila Abu-Lughod, the “portable closet” is necessary to free women from the confines of the household, without challenging prescribed Islamic framework and male domination in its entirety.21 In “Concealment and Revealment,” Anjum Alvi argues that concealment has different meanings to different women. For instance, some of the women who wear Burqa in the streets of Pakistan are sex workers. For them, wearing the veil means freedom of movement without sexual harassment, embarassment and signifies escaping social stigma.22 However, it can be argued that what limits women agency to the extent that they have no option but to “conceal” themselves is the patriarchal system producing values of keeping female sexuality in control and consequently marginalizing groups of women like sex workers. Thus, the very fact that women have to wear Burqah to avoid harassment and to escape stigma is a manifestation of limited agency. Amber Riaz describes this dichotomy as a paradox; the veiling system protects a woman’s honor but

and the Colonial Stereotype. International Journal of English Language, Literature and Humanities, 2,5 (2015), 459 20 Singh, N. Unveiling the Veiled Face: Imtiaz Dharker’s ‘Purdah’ and the Colonial Stereotype. International Journal of English Language, Literature and Humanities, 2,5 (2015), 458.

21 Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving? Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others. American Anthropologist, 104(3), 783-790. doi:10.1525/ aa.2002.104.3.783, 784.

22 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 187.

Syed | 15 also ensures a gender hierarchy and maintains a status quo ensuring patriarchal control over women’s lives.23 Islamization and Women’s Agency The culture around keeping women both covered and sheltered became legitimized and imposed by the state during Zia-ul-Haq’s military regime (1978-1988). Ziaul-Haq started a system of Islamization of law and society in Pakistan in the 1970s and 1980s and used Chador aur Chardevari as a slogan. Zia-ul-Haq introduced the Hudood Ordinance in 1979, under which there were strong regulations as to how women were to live their lives in modesty. Zia also introduced gender-purdah norms which promoted the segregation of public activities by gender.24 The state no longer allowed the participation of women in some public activities; for instance, the state blocked women’s sports teams from going abroad.25 Moreover, women’s appearance in public was highly scrutinized; for instance, in January 1983, a government directive calling for Pakistani women newsreaders to stop wearing heavy makeup and experimenting with fashion. Women were also banned from appearing in advertisements unless the advertisements were for domestic products like detergents and sewing machines. Women who did appear on the media had to follow a strict dressing code: the national dress, shalwaar kameez, and a dupatta or chaadar over their heads.26 Such socio-legal regulation had very strong consequences for women in the labour force. The 1981 consensus figures showed that around 90.6% of all working women professionals were employed in education and medicine. Women journalists were only allowed to report on women’s activities and

23

Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 18.

24 Korson, J. H., & Maskiell, M. (1985). Islamization and social policy in pakistan: The constitutional crisis and the status of women. Asian Survey, 25(6), 600.

25 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 52.

26 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 52.

had to refrain from informing or speaking on economics and politics. The majority of women had to keep their options limited to traditionally acceptable jobs for women.27 This had the effect of producing gendered work; women’s agency remained limited because they had to either by choice or by virtue of discriminatory laws only choose professions considered acceptable. Amber Riaz notes that women’s mobility and participation in the labour market are both compromised when they have to use the veil as symbols of their chastity and religiosity while navigating the male dominated public spheres of cities.28 It is important to note that it has been questioned whether such regulation was actually in accordance with Islamic principles, as portrayed. In “Architectures of the Veil,” Amber Riaz quotes the following Ayat from Surah Noor to be the supposed foundational source for the Hudood Ordinance29: “Believing women to lower their gaze and to be modest, and to display of their adornment only what is apparent, and to draw their veils over their bosoms.”

(24:31) However, feminists in Pakistan have questioned Ziaul-Haq’s intention behind Chador and Chaardevari; the slogan and the institution of veil are believed to be used for political reasons in a society dominated by men believing in a culture of ensuring women’s sharam. Rahat Imran, in “Islamic Laws, Gender Discrimination, and Legal Injustices,” argues that Zia used the “women’s card” as a symbol for his plans knowing that a large majority of the male population would be very accepting to it, given their belief systems.30 Moreover,

27

Korson, J. H., & Maskiell, M. (1985). Islamization and social policy in pakistan: The constitutional crisis and the status of women. Asian Survey, 25(6), 609.

28 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448,18.

29 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 06.

30 Imran, R. (1986). Islamic Laws, Gender Discrimination And Legal Injusices: The Zina Hudood Ordinance of Pakistan and its Implications for Women. Journal of International Women’s Studies, (University of Punjab), 11.

Syed | 16 Sitara Khan notes that Purdah can be used as an institution and agency for debarring women from full socio-economic and political life, controlling women’s mobility and spaces in the form of domestic arrangements to ensure premarital chastity and post-marital fidelity.31 Thus, when dissected as an institution, the veil has the effect of limiting women’s agency in the socio-political sense through manifestations such as domestic arrangements and gendered work.

Feminist Resistance in Pakistan Considering the many implications in the institution of the veil including gender segregated spaces and domestic arrangements, many Pakistani feminists have viewed it as a cultural issue , signalling misogynist values which favor women’s invisibility. To quote Amber Riaz: “I argue that women’s lack of access to education, the workforce and the denial of other basic rights in Pakistan stems directly from the belief that Muslim women must remain out of sight.”32 Zia-ul-Haq’s system of Islamization brought about legal changes which became major set-backs for the feminist movement in Pakistan.33 Feminists resisted such systems in multiple ways including organized protest, and the protest against larger cultural values remains prominent even today. In 1982, urban based women’s groups formulated the Women’s Action Forum (WAF) to provide women with a platform for nationwide resistance through advocacy, research, protest, writing and press campaigns etc. The WAF remains operational even today and continues to promote women’s advocacy and discourse on value systems that limit women’s agency in Pakistan. In 1983, women organized a protest rally in Lahore to march to the High Court to present a memorandum to the Chief Justice of Punjab High

31

Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 34.

32 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 26.

33 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts.

Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 26.

Court, condemning a law that General Zia-ul-Haq had proposed. Over 300 women participated in this march and faced repercussions like police intervention and tear gassing. The police arrested over 50 women and engaged in violent behaviour but several women still managed to march to the High Court.34 Since 2018, women from all over Pakistan have been protesting together, as an “Aurat March,” against cultural and legal injustices under the banner of “Hum Auratain” (Us Women). Much of the discourse under the Aurat March movement is based on women wanting to reclaim agency and rights over their own bodies. This includes discourse against systems such as Chaador aur Chardevari which have reconfigured in Pakistan over time and limited women’s socio-economic involvement. In her paper “Faithless vs Faithful feminism,” Aiesha Qureshi notes that the 21st century Pakistani woman is allowed to work outside households in a chaadar “but without compromising on their responsibility of providing the labor of social reproduction within the confines of Char-diwari” (Hussain 2016).35 Under the Aurat March, women have used slogans such as “Mera Jism Meri Marzi” (my body, my choice) to initiate discourse around reclaiming autonomy over their own bodies. “Mera Jism Meri Marzi” can be analyzed in light of resisting cultural systems and values like sharam which place control over female sexuality and modesty in men’s hands. Thus, “Mera Jism Meri Marzi” spurs discourse around women’s agency. In her article about “Mera Jism Meri Marzi,” Mehr Tarar describes the slogan in the following words: “Mera Jism Meri Marzi is a four-worded assertion to take control over what is already hers, mine, yours. The issue is agency. The purpose is to define authority. The goal is real autonomy.”36 The Aurat March organizers refrain from taking a po-

34

Imran, R. (1986). Islamic Laws, Gender Discrimination And Legal Injusices: The Zina Hudood Ordinance of Pakistan and its Implications for Women. Journal of International Women’s Studies, (University of Punjab), 29.

35

Qureshi, A. (n.d.). Faithless vs faithful feminism: The analysis of the dilemmas of Pakistani feminist movement, 4.

36 Tarar, M. Aurat March of Pakistan: The Decoding of Mera Jism Meri Marzi or My Body, My Choice. Gulf News, 05.03.2020

Syed | 17 sition on religion and argue that religious discourse is rather manipulated and exploited to promote female oppression when Islam, in actuality, promotes female empowerment.37 Despite organized resistance against female oppression in Pakistan, discourse around the veil, in particular, remains limited because critique of the practise of veiling and gender segregation is interpreted as a critique of Islam itself. Amber Riaz describes the dichotomy as a paradox whereby Pakistani feminists continue to support a woman’s choice of wearing the veil because it connects them with opportunities and simultaneously also see this vestiment as an institution of control over women’s agency and mobility.38 I argue that critique of the veil as an institution should be an active part of feminist discourse in Pakistan for there to be an increased resistance against a system which gives women no choice but to adhere to patriarchal frameworks in order for them to access opportunities and resources.

Conclusion This paper has discussed the veil, and its implications for women’s agency, as an institution in the Pakistani context. It has dissected the manifestations of the value system which goes beyond the veil itself and includes gender segregated spaces, work and domestic arrangements.

It has been discussed that value systems like sharam in the Pakistani context have implications such as those of men controlling female sexuality and bodies. Feminists have tried to advocate for women’s rights and agency within the realms of this framework as it is considered a part of the Islamic religion. However, this paper has argued that women’s agency over their own bodies and social lives in the physiological sense would remain limited if the patriarchal status quo is perpetuated with value systems like the Pardah. Thus, to conclude, for women to gain agency in any true sense, it is important to include critique against the veil as an institution in the feminist discourse in Pakistan.

37

Qureshi, A. (n.d.). Faithless vs faithful feminism: The analysis of the dilemmas of Pakistani feminist movement.

38 Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts. Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448, 18.

Syed | 18 References Abu-Lughod, L. (2002). Do Muslim women really need Saving? Anthropological reflections on cultural relativism and Its Others. American Anthropologist, 104(3), 783-790. doi:10.1525/aa.2002.104.3.783 Alvi, A. (2013). Concealment and revealment. Current Anthropology, 54(2), 177-199. doi:10.1086/669732 Imran, R. (1986). Islamic Laws, Gender Discrimination And Legal Injusices: The Zina Hudood Ordinance of Pakistan and its Implications for Women. Journal of International Women’s Studies, (University of Punjab).

Korson, J. H., & Maskiell, M. (1985). Islamization and social policy in pakistan: The constitutional crisis and the status of women. Asian Survey, 25(6), 589-612. doi:10.1525/as.1985.25.6.01p02786 Pastner, C. M. (1972). A social structural and historical analysis of honor, shame and Purdah. Anthropological Quarterly, 45(4), 248. doi:10.2307/3317064 Qureshi, A. (n.d.). Faithless vs faithful feminism: The analysis of the dilemmas of Pakistani feminist movement. https://www.academia.edu/40584605/Faithless_vs_faithful_feminism_the_analysis_of_the_dilemmas_of_Pakistani_feminist_movement.

Riaz, A. F. (2012). Architectures of the Veil: The Representation of the Veil and Zenanas in Pakistani Feminists’ Texts. Electronic Thesis and Dissertation Repository, 448.

Singh, N. Unveiling the Veiled Face: Imtiaz Dharker’s ‘Purdah’ and the Colonial Stereotype. International Journal of English Language, Literature and Humanities, 2,5 (2015).

Tarar, M. Aurat March of Pakistan: The Decoding of Mera Jism Meri Marzi or My Body, My Choice. Gulf News, 05.03.2020.

Zakaria, R. (2020). A Return to Purdah. Dawn, 10.04.2020.

Grantham | 20 Abstract The mass deforestation of the Brazilian Amazon rainforest caused by industrial animal agriculture is a rapidly growing issue that has severe environmental and ethical repercussions, and is not being addressed appropriately due politically-inclined manipulations on behalf of actors in the industry. This paper will begin by outlining how Brazil’s animal agriculture industry has come to be a significant global player. This will be followed by a discussion of how animal agriculture is intricately intertwined with environmental degradation. Next will be a description of how animal agriculture is also an ethical disaster, followed by a review of the industry stakeholders and the influence they have over the public and political discourse on this issue. The article will be concluded with proposals to address these problems.

Résumé La déforestation massive de la forêt tropicale amazonienne située au Brésil est causée par l’agriculture animale industrielle et ceci est un problème qui ne cesse de croître très rapidement et qui a de graves répercussions environnementales et éthiques. Celle-ci n’est point abordée de manière appropriée en raison de manipulations à caractère politique de la part des acteurs de cette industrie. Ce document commence par décrire comment cette industrie d’élevage au Brésil est devenue un acteur mondiale important. Par la suite, une discussion sera élaborée sur la façon dont l’agriculture animale est intimement liée à la dégradation de l’environnement. Ensuite, il y aura une description de la façon dont l’agriculture animale est également un désastre éthique en prenant bien soin d’identifier les parties prenantes de l’industrie et de leur influence sur le discours public et politique. L’article se conclura par des propositions pour résoudre ces problèmes.

Grantham | 21 Introduction The global demand for meat products has been steadily increasing in recent history, particularly as international trade has intensified as Western and increasingly prosperous Asian societies have raised their meat consumption. As a result, agricultural practices have grown to an industrial scale in order to meet the rapidly climbing demand. The demand from the United States (US) that had previously been serviced domestically has gone overseas, mainly to Brazil. Consequently, the tropical rainforests in Brazil’s Amazon Rainforest are falling subject to destructive practices to create grazing range for livestock. This paper will begin by outlining how Brazil’s animal agriculture industry came to be such a prominent player in the international meat industry. This will lead to a discussion of how animal agriculture can contribute to large scale environmental degradation. There will then be a description of how animal agriculture is also an ethical disaster, with direct impacts on the well-being of both humans and animals. Following this will be a review of the industry stakeholders and the influence they have over the discourse on this issue. This will be followed by proposals to address these problems. In sum, the mass deforestation of the Brazilian Amazon rainforest arising from industrial animal agriculture is a proliferating disaster that has severe environmental and ethical consequences. The worsening issue is not being addressed appropriately due to industry stakeholders and their political influence controlling the discourse in order to protect their own interests.

The growth of the Brazilian farm animal sector can be closely linked to increasing global demand for Brazilian beef. Livestock disease trends in the US, including concerns over both mad cow disease and foot and mouth disease amongst cattle, has led the US cattle industry to turn to Brazil to supply beef to meet the growing demand both domestically and internationally.1 Brazil is an attractive choice for producers due to low land prices in the Amazon, Brazilian currency devaluations, and the swift expansion of the region’s

1

David Kaimowitz et al.,“Hamburger Connection Fuels Amazon Destruction: Cattle Ranching and Deforestation in Brazil’s Amazon,” Center for International Forestry Research, 2004: 5.

road and electricity infrastructures.2 These factors make industrial beef production in the Amazon very profitable for producers and marketing agencies. The cattle industry in Brazil has grown so dramatically that the country now has the largest cattle herd in the world, growing from 26 million heads in 1990 to 57 million heads in 2002.3 While the growth of this sector has resulted in short term economic gains for Brazil, the wider impacts both nationally and globally of industrial farming on this scale are both significant and largely negative. The farm animal sector in Brazil is the single largest anthropogenic user of land in the world, using approximately 33% of the planet’s arable land surface.4 Industrial animal agriculture has led to a multitude of other negative environmental effects: extensive greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions (18% of all GHG emissions globally), increasing air and water pollution, and loss of biodiversity.5 This is part of a global trend exceedingly favouring intensive production systems over sustainable production systems, as the former tend to be more profitable. Therefore, intensive production systems can be expected to become more widespread and problematic.6 Industrial Animal Agriculture as an Environmental Disaster Industrial animal agriculture can be considered an environmental disaster due its direct operational impact on extensive deforestation, contamination, and pollution. The burgeoning farm animal sector has caused mass deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon, with the accumulated deforested area serving animal agriculture amounting to 58.7 million hectares by 2004.7 Farm-

Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 5.

Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 2.

4 Gowri Koneswaran and D. Nierenberg, “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming: Impacting and Mitigating Climate Change,” Environmental Health Perspectives 116, no. 5 (2008): 578. doi: 10.1289/ehp.11034 5 David N. Cassuto and Sarah Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal: A Look at Industrial Agriculture in the United States and Brazil,” Animal Law 18, no. 2 (2012): 186.

6 Koneswaran, “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming,” 579.

7 Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 2.

2 3

Grantham | 22 land expansion in Brazil’s tropical zone is destroying the largest amount of rainforest of any industrial activities in the Amazon.8 The amount of land used for animal pasture is over 600% larger than that used for all crops in the Amazon combined.9 Further, the rate of growth has been accelerating, as cattle ranching is responsible for 70% of the ongoing deforestation that occurs in the Brazilian Amazon and as the demand for Brazilian beef continues to climb.10 Between 1997 and 2003, the volume of beef exports in Brazil increased by 500%. Further, global farm production is expected to double from its current levels by 2050.11 Deforestation is one of the primary consequences of industrial animal agriculture, and its impact cannot be underestimated. Tropical deforestation contributes to approximately 10-20% of global carbon emissions, producing 2.4 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide (CO2).12 Further consequences include loss of a significant carbon sink, desertification, soil erosion, and loss of biodiversity. Carbon sinks are also critical to the mitigation of global climate change. They provide long-term carbon storage in living biomass and soils. The Amazon acts as a vital carbon sink that regulates the amount of CO2 in the atmosphere, containing 25% of the remaining terrestrial carbon sink.13 When widespread deforestation occurs, carbon sinks are destroyed, thus simultaneously releasing carbon and reducing the carbon sequestration (the process of trees absorbing carbon and storing it), effectively reducing the carbon stores in

8

Tim Boekhout van Solinge, “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon,” Critical Criminology 18, no. 4 (2010): 265. doi: 10.1007/s10612-010-9120-x 9 Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 2.

10 Solinge, “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon,” 272.

11 Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 3.

Koneswaran, “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming,” 580.

12 Isabel M. Rosa, Matthew J. Smith, Oliver R. Wearn, Drew Purves, and Robert M. Ewers, “The Environmental Legacy of Modern Tropical Deforestation,” Current Biology 26, no. 16 (2016): 2162. doi: 10.1016/j.cub.2016.06.013 Koneswaran, “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming,” 579.

13 R.J.W. Brienen et al., “Long-Term Decline of the Amazon Carbon Sink,” Nature 519, (2015): 344. doi: 10.1038/nature14283

the atmosphere. This means that as trees are cut down, they are no longer able to store the carbon they once did; simultaneously, there will be fewer trees to continue to absorb the carbon in the atmosphere. Loss of both flora and fauna in the Amazon is a problem that cannot be overlooked, since 25% of the world’s biodiversity resides in the Amazon rainforest.14 As deforestation escalates, many species that are unique to the Amazon’s biodiversity are at risk of extinction.15 Thus, the key harmful impact of the animal agriculture industry in Brazil is widespread deforestation, posing significant and direct threats to both the local and the global environment.

The Multidimensional Ethical Issues Associated with Animal Farming The conditions under which industrial animal farming operate pose not only environmental issues, but ethical ones as well. Many consider the conditions under which animals are raised to be destructive to animal welfare.16 During crucial stages of growth , animals are often forced into tight living spaces that cause psychological distress and aggression.17 They are also subject to unnatural diets, growth hormone injections, and widespread abuse.18 It has been estimated that 10% of animals used in industrial animal farming die while they are still on the farm due to mistreatment.19 This problem has become so prolific that it has developed into a normalized practice, considered to be an inevitable byproduct of efficient agriculture.20 This tradeoff of the welfare of living beings for profit is something that must be critically analysed as unethical. However, the practices in Brazil can be argued to be comparatively

14

R.J.W. Brienen et al., “Long-Term Decline of the Amazon Carbon Sink,” Nature 519, (2015): 344. doi: 10.1038/nature14283 15 David N. Cassuto and Sarah Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal: A Look at Industrial Agriculture in the United States and Brazil,” Animal Law 18, no. 2 (2012): 193.

16 David Fraser, “The ‘New Perception’ of Animal Agriculture: Legless Cows, Featherless Chickens, and a Need for Genuine Analysis,” Journal of Animal Science 79 no. 3 (2001): 635. doi: 10.2527/2001.793634x 17 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 190 18 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 190.

19 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 190.

20 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 204.

Grantham | 23 better than those in the US, as Brazil’s constitution establishes laws for animal welfare.21 Animal protection laws are outlined in the Environmental Crimes Act of 1998, which criminalizes abuse and mistreatment of animals.22 Further, in Brazil, animal welfare may be a higher priority because they need their export-oriented production to be competitive with European markets.23 While their institutions and laws may raise the bar for welfare standards, animal mistreatment in Brazilian industrial farms is still thought to be fairly common, as enforcement of animal welfare laws is considered to be no more effective than the land title laws that should protect forests from degradation.24 Animal agriculture poses ethical issues that not only threaten animals, but humans as well. For example, the industry imposes severely destructive practices on the home environment of the many indigenous hunter-gatherer societies that still reside in the Amazon rainforest. Thus, the very existence and livelihood of these indigenous communities is threatened.25 Further, a vast amount of the land conversion occuring in the Amazon is no more than illegal land-grabbing.In particular, large corporations are forcibly removing indigenous groups without any legitimate legal authority to operate.26 Through loss of land, indigenous communities are not only having their survival threatened, but also their identities, as connection with ancestral lands is a pillar to their rights claims as indigenous citizens.27 This problem is worsened due to the fact that the Brazilian government predominantly enables these illegal deforestation activities, as there are institutional weak-

Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 202.

“Environmental Crimes Law of Brazil (1998),” Animal Law Legal Center. Michigan State University, October 2010, https:// www.animallaw.info/statute/brazil-crimes-brazilian-enviromental-crimes-law, Article 32.

23 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 203.

24 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 203.

25 Solinge, “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon,” 264.

26 Solinge, “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon,” 265.

27 Omaira Bolaños, “Redefining Identities, Redefining Landscapes: Indigenous Identity and Land Rights Struggles in the Brazilian Amazon,” Journal of Cultural Geography 28, no. 1 (2011): 47. https://doi.org/10.1080/08873631.2011.548480.

nesses that enhance instability in the state’s capacity to enforce surveillance and disciplinary policies.28 The government’s failure to mitigate both the legal and illegal establishment of cattle-producing operations reflects their inability to protect the indigenous citizens who rely on the Amazon rainforest to sustain their livelihoods. It also demonstrates their insensitivity to the well-being of their non-Indigenous population, as some large cattle farms in more isolated areas of the Amazon have demonstrated worker conditions very similar to slavery or indentured labour. For example, there have been reports of workers being prevented from leaving the site and trapped in debt bondage.29 These realities further contribute to the disastrous and exploitative nature of this problem. Nature, animals, and humans alike are all being harmed by the practices involved in industrial animal agriculture, and they are being allowed to continue and proliferate because powerful players are benefiting from the operations.30 Discourse as a Major Practice Preventing Effective Remedies Industrial animal agricultural practices pose issues that are largely not addressed due to the discursive power that industry stakeholders wield over how risks contributing to global climate change are constructed.31 For example, Bristow and Fitzgerald discovered that industry stakeholders actively downplay the link between global climate change and animal agriculture.32 Further, the industry stakeholders notoriously influence government actors to repress dialogues that would demonstrate the negative effects of animal agriculture.33 As Cassuto and Saville argue, industrial

21 22

28

Saulo Rodrigues-Filho, R. Verburg, M. Bursztyn, D. Lindoso, N. Debortoli, and A.M. Vilhena. “Election-driven Weakening of Deforestation Control in the Brazilian Amazon,” Land Use Policy 43 (2015): 111, 118. doi: 10.1016/j.landusepol.2014.11.002 29 Solinge, “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon,” 272.

30 Bolaños, “Redefining Identities, Redefining Landscapes,” 51.

31

Elizabeth Bristow and Amy Fitzgerald, “Global Climate Change and the Industrial Animal Agriculture Link: The Construction of Risk,” Society & Animals 19, no. 3 (2011): 217. doi: 10.1163/156853011x578893 32

Bristow and Fitzgerald, “Global Climate Change and the Industrial Animal Agriculture Link,” 219.

33 Bristow and Fitzgerald, “Global Climate Change and the

Grantham | 24 agriculture has grown so rapidly because powerful industry stakeholders deliberately obscure and downplay its extensive disadvantages.34 Both public and private institutions have underestimated the discursive habits and impacts of this agricultural sector. Therefore, action is required to mitigate the rapidly worsening effects that this industry is having on the planet. The dire situation is also exacerbated because consumers who, although they are conscious of the issues that these practices cause, are unwilling to change their habits to reduce their impacts on a distant part of South America, even though such actions could benefit their own planet. Moreover, the meat industry stakeholders are extremely powerful and have worked effectively to prevent the spread of awareness about the extensive adverse consequences of their actions. They have also benefited from the recent election of a Brazilian President Bolsonaro who is indifferent to these issues, and openly scornful of international concerns about deforestation.35 And yet, there have been significant breakthroughs in spreading knowledge about industrial animal agriculture. Several documentaries (for example, Cowspiracy: The Sustainability Secret) and articles have detailed the detrimental effects of animal agriculture. Thankfully, this information often reaches a wide and growing audience. However, there is a limit to the persuasive, meaningful power of these sources to change consumer habits; many of those who are aware of the issues are ambivalent or averse to altering their consumption patterns, even though they are increasingly aware of the adverse effects.

To address this disaster, industrial operations as well as consumption patterns must be confronted. The growth of this sector reflects growing demand from consumers. Consequently, industry producers are producing more to supply enough goods to meet this demand. If consumers were to shift their tastes and preferences towards more sustainable options to regulate and ultimately reduce the aggregate demand for these meat products, then the industry would correspondingly

shrink their production operations. However, this is not easy to accomplish. Studies suggest that, although people have demonstrated a willingness to pay for welfare-friendly products, purchasing patterns are inconsistent with this claim.36 The majority of the demand for meat products come from the US and Western Europe, and increasingly from Asia. As the Brazilian animal agriculture industry is almost completely reliant on exports to these parts of the world, it is these societies whose consumption patterns need to be confronted.

Industrial practices also need to be addressed. As Heitschmidt et al state, sustainable agriculture needs to stop being viewed as a management philosophy, and needs to start being viewed as a method of operation.37 Steps that can be taken at the industrial scale include putting an end to land grabbing expansion projects.38 Exploitative industrial practices have already ravaged so much of the Amazon; therefore, expansion of such destructive projects cannot be allowed to continue. In order to stop the expansion of these practices, the relevant government can increase enforcement of illegal land grabs and give at-risk areas protected status.39 However, the current political leadership in Brazil seems to reject these issues as priorities.

Public actors at the local and state level need to create strong alliances with grassroots and international civil society organizations in order to strengthen their knowledge about environmental issues and motivate them to enforce environmental law more effectively.40 Partnerships between local social movements and federal prosecuting officers have proven to be effective in the enforcement of environmental law.41 Further, pro-

36

Michel Marie, “Ethics: The New Challenge for Animal Agriculture.” Livestock Science 103, no. 3 (2006): 205. doi: 10.1016/j.livs-

ci.2006.05.006 37

R. K Heitschmidt, R.E. Short, and E.E. Grings. “Ecosystems, Sustainability, and Animal Agriculture.” Journal of Animal Science 74, no. 6 (1996): 1395. doi: https://doi.org/10.2527/1996.7461395x

Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 6.

Kaimowitz, “Hamburger Connection,” 6.

40 Imme Scholz, “Chapter Thirteen. Negotiating Solutions for Local Sustainable Development and the Prevention of Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon,” in Partnerships in Sustainable Forest Resource Management: Learning from Latin America, (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2007), 185.

41 Scholz, “Chapter Thirteen. Negotiating Solutions,” 182.

38 39

Industrial Animal Agriculture Link,” 220.

34 Cassuto and Saville, “Hot, Crowded, and Legal,” 204.

35 BBC, “Amazon Rainforest Belongs to Brazil, Says Jair Bolsonaro,” BBC News World Latin America, BBC, September 24, 2019. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-49815731.

Grantham | 25 viding economic incentives or subsidies to those who do practice sustainable animal agriculture, minimizing the use of pesticides and other products that contribute to water pollution, and using environmentally-friendly machinery that releases fewer GHGs into the atmosphere, need to be implemented. Ultimately, the self-interest of the private sector needs to be stimulated in order to encourage them to obey environmental law, in general, and support the animal agriculture industry, in particular.42 Conclusion The issue of large scale industrial animal agriculture as an active environmental and ethical disaster is not one that will not be solved in the foreseeable future.

Deeply-embedded cultural practices and the current political environment in Brazil must be confronted and altered in order to ensure the sustainable well-being of the planet. No other sector, including the transportation sector, contributes more to global climate change than industrial animal agriculture.43 However, there are multiple, specific actions that both public and private actors may take to tackle the long-standing and exploitative effects of these industrial practices. For example, this problem and its dire consequences must be more widely publicized. Moreover, the discursive power that influential stakeholders possess must be countered and dismantled. Climate change is an emerging catastrophe, with disproportionate effects on all aspects of ecosystems, as well as on society’s most vulnerable populations. As the leading cause of the growing environmental crisis, humans must act now to rectify the damage that we have imposed on others and on the planet itself. The key lesson from this case study is that individuals have the power to not only target and mitigate corporate interests which lead to environmental destruction, but also to shape the discourse around the issue in order to prioritize sustainability and minority rights.

Scholz, “Chapter Thirteen. Negotiating Solutions,” 185.

Koneswaran, “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming,” 578.

42 43

Grantham | 26 Works Cited BBC. “Amazon Rainforest Belongs to Brazil, Says Jair Bolsonaro.” BBC News World Latin America. BBC, September 24, 2019. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-latin-america-49815731.

Bolaños, Omaira. “Redefining Identities, Redefining Landscapes: Indigenous Identity and Land Rights Struggles in the Brazilian Amazon.” Journal of Cultural Geography 28, no. 1 (2011): 45–72. https://doi. org/10.1080/08873631.2011.548480.

Brienen, R. et al. “Long-Term Decline of the Amazon Carbon Sink.” Nature 519, (2015): 344–348. doi: 10.1038/nature14283 Bristow, Elizabeth and Amy Fitzgerald. “Global Climate Change and the Industrial Animal Agriculture Link: The Construction of Risk.” Society & Animals 19, no. 3 (2011): 205–224. doi: 10.1163/156853011x578893 Cassuto, David N. and Sarah Saville. “Hot, Crowded, and Legal: A Look at Industrial Agriculture in the United States and Brazil.” Animal Law 18, no. 2 (2012): 185–205.

“Environmental Crimes Law of Brazil (1998).” Animal Law Legal Center. Michigan State University, October 2010. https://www.animallaw.info/statute/brazil-crimes-brazilian-environmental-crimes-law.

Heitschmidt, R. K., R.E. Short, and E.E. Grings. “Ecosystems, Sustainability, and Animal Agriculture.” Journal of Animal Science 74, no. 6 (1996): 1395–1405. doi: https://doi. org/10.2527/1996.7461395x Fraser, David. “The ‘New Perception’ of Animal Agriculture: Legless Cows, Featherless Chickens, and a Need for Genuine Analysis.” Journal of Animal Science 79 no. 3 (2001): 634–641. doi: 10.2527/2001.793634x Kaimowitz, D., Benoit Mertens, Sven Wunder, and Pablo Pacheco. “Hamburger Connection Fuels Amazon Destruction: Cattle Ranching and Deforestation in Brazil’s Amazon.” Center for International Forestry Research, 2004.

Koneswaran, G. and D. Nierenberg. “Global Farm Animal Production and Global Warming: Impacting and Mitigating Climate Change.” Environmental Health Perspectives 116, no. 5 (2008): 578–582. doi: 10.1289/ehp.11034 Marie, Michel. “Ethics: The New Challenge for Animal Agriculture.” Livestock Science 103, no. 3 (2006): 203–207. doi: 10.1016/j.livsci.2006.05.006 Rodrigues-Filho, Saulo, R. Verburg, M. Bursztyn, D. Lindoso, N. Debortoli, and A.M. Vilhena.

“Election-Driven Weakening of Deforestation Control in the Brazilian Amazon.” Land Use Policy 43 (2015): 111–118. doi: 10.1016/j.landusepol.2014.11.002 Rosa, I. M., M.J. Smith, O.R. Wearn, D. Purves, and R.M. Ewers. “The Environmental Legacy of Modern Tropical Deforestation.” Current Biology 26, no. 16 (2016): 2161–2166. doi: 10.1016/j.

Grantham | 27 cub.2016.06.013 Scholz, Imme. “Chapter Thirteen. Negotiating Solutions for Local Sustainable Development and the Prevention of Deforestation in the Brazilian Amazon.” In Partnerships in Sustainable Forest Resource Management: Learning from Latin America, 277-300. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2007.

Solinge, T. B. van. “Deforestation Crimes and Conflicts in the Amazon.” Critical Criminology 18, no. 4 (2010): 263–277. doi: 10.1007/s10612-010-9120-x “Why the Amazon’s Biodiversity Is Critical for the Globe: An Interview with Thomas Lovejoy.”

World Bank, May 22, 2019.https://www.worldbank.org/en/news/feature/2019/05/22/why-the-amazons-biodiversity-is-critical-for-the-globe.

Polidori | 29 Abstract During the COVID-19 pandemic, pathogenic imagery and metaphors have been used to describe displaced persons, especially migrants and refugees, as disease carriers and vectors. Originating in 19th century British anti-immigrant sentiment, the striking similarity of language and policies targeting the movements of both human beings and alien species has a long history, which this paper discusses to shed light on the West’s perception of non-natives over time. This paper explores the relationship between immigration politics and conservation science through the native-alien dichotomy, ecological imperialism, the synchrony of regulations targeting foreigners and invasive alien species alike, as well as the fusion of language between both academic fields through the use of biological imagery. By integrating insights from conservation science into the study of displacement, this paper argues that immigration policies aimed at restricting the mobility of all non-natives (human and non-human) are reinforced by language appealing to botanical and pathogenic imagery, indicating the overall perception of immigrants and refugees as a ubiquitous biological threat in the West. This fused perceptive is not only harmful, but also counterproductive, as it fails to address the structural drivers of migration, making the resettlement and integration of newcomers into their host country even more challenging.

Résumé Dans le cadre de la pandémie COVID-19, l’imagerie et les métaphores pathogènes ont été utilisées pour désigner les personnes déplacées, en particulier les migrants et les réfugiés, comme des porteurs et des vecteurs de maladies. La similarité frappante du langage et des politiques ciblant les mouvements des êtres humains et des espèces exotiques, qui trouve son origine dans le sentiment anti-immigrant britannique du 19e siècle, a une longue histoire qu’étudie cet ouvrage pour éclairer la perception qu’a l’Occident des non-autochtones au fil du temps. Ce document explore la relation entre les politiques d’immigration et la science de la conservation à travers la dichotomie entre les exotiques et les indigènes, l’impérialisme écologique, la synchronisation des réglementations visant les étrangers et les espèces exotiques envahissantes, ainsi que la fusion du langage entre les deux domaines pédagogiques par le biais de l’imagerie biologique. En intégrant les idées de la science de la conservation dans l’étude des déplacements, cet ouvrage soutient que les politiques d’immigration visant à restreindre la mobilité de tous les non-autochtones (humains et non-humains) sont synthétisés par un langage faisant appel à l’imagerie botanique et pathogène, indiquant la perception générale des migrants et des réfugiés comme une menace biologique omniprésente en Occident. Cette perception fusionnée est non seulement nuisible, mais aussi contre-productive, car elle ne tient pas compte des leviers structurels de la migration, ce qui rend le rétablissement et l’intégration des nouveaux arrivants dans leur pays d’accueil encore plus difficiles.

Polidori | 30 Introduction This essay will explore the striking similarity of language and policies targeting the movements of human beings and other species alike, in order to answer the following research question: how does integrating the notion of ‘invasive alien species’ (from conservation science) into the study of displacement help our understanding of how refugees and migrants are experienced in the West? After a comprehensive study of the native-alien dichotomy, ecological imperialism, the synchrony of regulations targeting ‘invasive alien species’ and migrants, as well as the fusion of language between the two, this essay will argue that immigration policies aimed at restricting the mobility of migrants and refugees are reinforced by language appealing to botanical and pathogenic imagery, indicating the overall perception of displaced persons as a ubiquitous biological threat in the West.

The native-alien dichotomy: an expression of the sedentary bias It is difficult to discuss migrants and refugees without playing into the sedentary bias and the externalizing nature of their status.1 Before exploring this theme further, however, we need to define some key terminology relevant to both migration studies and conservation science.

The United Nations Refugee Agency, also known as the UNHCR, clearly distinguishes refugees from migrants as “people who cannot return to their country of origin because of a well-founded fear of persecution, conflict, violence, or other circumstances that have seriously disturbed public order and who, as a result, require international protection”2. Closely related, asylum seekers are technically refugees-in-waiting as people who have requested sanctuary from a nation-state, but whose demand has yet to be approved.3 While these legal distinctions exist between migrants, refu-

1

Liisa Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” Cultural Anthropology 7, no. 1 (1992): 24–44.

2 UNHCR, “Asylum and Migration,” UNHCR, accessed April 18, 2020, https://www.unhcr.org/asylum-and-migration.html 3 UNHCR, “Who We Help,” UNHCR, accessed April 18, 2020, https://www.unhcr.org/who-we-help.html.

gees, and asylum seekers, this paper will group them together when talking about non-natives (also called ‘aliens’ by some) more generally, but also distinguish them when doing so is analytically useful. Moreover, the term ‘displaced persons’ in this paper is used to refer to people who migrate out of necessity (refugees) or precarity ((labour) migrants), as opposed to desire or opportunity (expatriates and others).

Humans, however, are not the only living organisms subject to different classifications based on their country of origin and displacement. In conservation science, ‘alien’ species (also called ‘introduced’ or ‘exotic’ species) is one of the official terms used to describe any species which is not native to a territory in question4.

Meanwhile, those deemed harmful and destructive to indigenous biodiversity and native species are classified as ‘invasive alien species’ (IAS)5. These mainly enter a new region or continent by way of human intervention, either accidentally (through the transportation of people and goods across the world, or through the escape of domestic or livestock animals into the wild), or deliberately (as a form of biological control to target pests, or for aesthetic, monetary, as well as game hunting reasons)6.

A parallel emerges then, between the study of displaced persons and ‘alien’ species: the native-alien dichotomy. The status of migrants, refugees, and ‘alien’ species is laden with the idea that they are an exception to the norm, that is, to “the national […] order of things,”7 whereby people are recognized as citizens in a nation-state and receive protection from the national government8. In this sense, the native-alien dichoto-

4

Colin G. Scanes, “Chapter 17 - Invasive Species,” in Animals and Human Society, ed. Colin G. Scanes and Samia R. Toukhsati (Academic Press, 2018), 413, https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12805247-1.00024-1.

5 Ian D. Rotherham and Robert A. Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals: Human Perceptions, Attitudes and Approaches to Management (London, UNITED KINGDOM: Routledge, 2011), 22, http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/mcgill/detail.action?docID=1099101.

6 Scanes, “Chapter 17 - Invasive Species,” 413–15.

7 Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” 33.

8 Sonia Shah, “Native Species or Invasive? The Distinction Blurs

Polidori | 31 my is informed by the notion of states and borders9.

Refugees are not only a result of the violent creation of nation-states, including that of Eastern European countries during World War Two or the creation of Israel in 1948. By demarcating the limits of a nation-state’s sovereignty, borders represent the limits between a refugee’s status as a human being and status as an ‘alien’10. As Hannah Arendt writes, “the loss of a polity itself expels [the displaced person] from humanity”11. Losing more than the protection from their state, a refugee or a migrant loses their “inalienable human rights”12 because as an ‘alien’ they no longer have a place which recognizes and protects those rights13. In other words, displaced persons become alienated when they are “expelled from the human community”14 and robbed of their “natural rights,”15 that is, their “right to have rights”16.

The native-alien dichotomy, furthermore, is rooted in the assumption that all human beings, and living organisms, originate from and are attached to one place only, a preconception that Liisa Malkki names the sedentary bias. This assumption shapes the perception citizens have of refugees and migrants, including their perceived value as human beings17, resulting in the problematization of these individuals in immigration politics. If we take the native-alien dichotomy a

as the World Warms,” Yale E360, January 14, 2020, https://e360. yale.edu/features/native-species-or-invasive-the-distinctionblurs-as-the-world-warms; Randall Hansen, “State Controls: Borders, Refugees, and Citizenship,” in The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies, 2014, 2, https://doi. org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199652433.013.0032.

9 Hansen, “State Controls: Borders, Refugees, and Citizenship,” 1.

10 Hansen, 1–2.

11 Hannah Arendt, “The Decline of the Nation-State and the Rights of Man,” in The Origins of Totalitarianism (Meridian Book s, 1951), 297.

12 Arendt, 279.

13 Arendt, 296.

14 Arendt, 298.

15 Arendt, 298.

16 Arendt, 297.

17 Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” 33.

step further and distinguish between migrants and refugees, on one hand, and ‘introduced’ and ‘invasive’ species on the other, additional insights emerge. These secondary classifications further shape who is seen as deserving of protection and empathy, with refugees and ‘introduced’ species largely perceived as benign ‘alien’ beings, while migrants and ‘invasive’ species are often described as threats to the territory they are ‘invading’18.

As drivers of migration for all species (including human and non-human) are increasing, the confusion associated with divisions such as the native-alien one is as well. While the legal distinction between refugees and migrants is founded in whether someone migrated out of their own volition19, these formal categories are becoming more and more outdated in the context of climate change20, which is forcing people to migrate increasingly out of necessity or precarity. Furthermore, the separation between native and introduced species is also blurring as a result of species migrating in search of cooler climates and ecosystems, thereby challenging the established conservation logic for deciding which species to protect21.

Ecological imperialism and the emergence of immigration policies Ecological imperialism and the most successful ‘invasive alien species’ These classifications are not only subject to criticism but are also inherently subjective, having been created by, and in the interest of, human beings, otherwise known as the most successful ‘invasive alien species’, representing the most mobile and harmful beings to global biodiversity on this planet22. In fact, many scholars trace back “[many] current conservation problems and issues in terms of exotic and invasive alien plants and animals [to] western European imperial expansion,

John P. Rafferty, “Invasive Species,” in Encyclopedia Britannica, accessed April 20, 2020, https://www.britannica.com/science/invasive-species.

18

19

UNHCR, “Asylum and Migration.”

Shah, “Native Species or Invasive?”

21 Shah; Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 15.

22 Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 22.

20

Polidori | 32 and thereafter with mostly northern hemisphere-led globalization,”23 what Alfred W. Crosby refers to as “ecological imperialism”24.

Migration, as we know, is part of our DNA: science has demonstrated that “we all share a family tree and a primordial migration story: [all] people outside Africa are descended from ancestors who left that continent more than 60,000 years ago. About 45,000 years ago, those first modern humans ventured into Europe, having made their way up through the Middle East.”25 At one point, however, geographic barriers prevented both humans and other living organisms from migrating beyond Europe: these natural barriers helped preserve biodiversity locally and across the globe, by preventing the homogenization of species26. While biogeography experienced a natural level of dynamism and fluctuation, humans were the ones who artificially facilitated and accelerated the migration of species (including that of humans) from Europe to the Americas, as well as to Australia and New Zealand27. Between 1492 and the early 1800s, Europeans not only displaced and massacred the Indigenous populations of these continents, but they also replaced the indigenous flora and fauna they found with their own, European species28. This introduction was successful because they “had evolved in [...] more competitive environments”29 where they had long been subject to anthropogenic pressures on the environment, including hunting and intensive agricultural practices. This transplantation of plants and animals allowed the colonists to reproduce their lifestyle overseas, facilitating their transition to life on the ‘new’ continents30.

As Crosby argues, the fact that “[the] parts of the world that today in terms of population and culture are most like Europe are far away from Europe […] [and] export more foodstuffs of European provenance – grains and meats – than any other lands on earth [even though they did not have them] five hundred years ago,”31 clearly demonstrates the biological and ecological component of the success of European imperialism32. Furthermore, Europeans did not only facilitate the migration of animals and plants, but they also carried with them diseases and viruses to which Indigenous populations were not immunized against33.

As Robert B. Marks writes, while the ‘discovery’ of the ‘New World’ by Christopher Colombus in 1492 served as the catalyst for “a global exchange of peoples, pathogens, natural products, and foodstuffs […] it seems that the native peoples of the New World were the losers [in this exchange], for the encounter between the [two] Worlds brought two hitherto separate disease pools into contact”34. Rather than an exchange, then, Europe’s expansion into the New World was entirely extractive in nature. In the 1400s, throughout the ‘Old World,’ agrarian economies began facing the “ecological limits”35 of what Marks refers to as the “biological old regime,”36 a time preceding the Industrial Revolution when society was dependent on the size and quality of agricultural output to prosper37. In Europe, notably Britain, economic and population growth were becoming increasingly hampered by the shortages of land, but the “New World colonies provided additional “ghost acres” that allowed […] industrialization […] to unfold”38 by allowing the ‘Old World’ to expand be-

23

Rotherham and Lambert, 6.

Alfred W. Crosby, Ecological Imperialism: The Biological Expansion of Europe, 900–1900 (Cambridge University Press, 2015), https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9781316424032.

25 Andrew Curry, “Who Were the First Europeans?,” National Geographic, 2019, 104.

26 Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 22.

27 Rotherham and Lambert, 22.

28 Philip J. Pauly, “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees: Conflicting Visions of American Ecological Independence,” Isis 87, no. 1 (1996): 52.

29 Pauly, 52.

30 Crosby, Ecological Imperialism, 7.

24

Crosby, 7.

Crosby, 7.

33 Pauly, “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees,” 54.

34 Robert B. Marks, The Origins of the Modern World: A Global and Ecological Narrative from the Fifteenth to the Twenty-First Century, Third (Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2015), 76– 77.

35 Marks, 115.

36 Marks, 40 37 Marks, 140.

38 Marks, 115–16.

31 32

Polidori | 33 yond its natural resources39.

Taking into account the biological and ecological dimensions of imperialism, European colonists can be described as the most successful ‘invasive alien species’ of the human race (which is an ‘invasive alien species’ as a whole, as aforementioned) because they have not only invaded the greatest number of territories (to which they are artificially “native”40), harmed the native biodiversity of these regions (not to mention the implications of the Industrial Revolution for climate change), but also carried with them flora, fauna, and pathogens, all of which displaced and threatened the truly native, Indigenous species, and peoples in this supposedly ‘New’ World41. It could be argued that comparing European colonists, or any group of people for that matter, to ‘invasive alien species’ is inherently problematic, as this paper does with respect to refugees and migrants. Nonetheless, I would argue that applying this term to European colonists serves as a useful analogy. It accurately depicts their imperial and colonial record while, on the contrary, using this comparison on refugees and migrants is unfounded and xenophobic, reinforcing their stigmatization and marginalization in the West.

This section has shown how nature and humankind are inextricably linked by European colonialism, which has in turn led to subjective classifications like the native-alien dichotomy when, in fact, both ‘invasive alien species’, on the one hand, and migrants and refugees, on the other hand, are creations and by-products of European colonialism42. In turn, this suggests that the West’s continual classification of species into native and ‘alien’ species, as well as the use of anti-immigration rhetoric framing displaced persons as anomalies, perpetuates colonial discourses and practices centered around the artificial native-alien division43. Thus, ‘in-

Marks, 77.

Pauly, “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees,” 54;70.

41 Pauly, 54.

42 Ghassan Hage, “État de Siège: A Dying Domesticating Colonialism?,” American Ethnologist 43, no. 1 (2016): 47–48, https:// doi.org/10.1111/amet.12261.

43 Pauly, “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees,” 54.

vasive alien species’ are not only of biological concern in conservation science but also have an important human dimension44, confirming the “[importance in recognizing] the subjectivity of decision-making processes and the cultural and historical origins of many of today’s problem species”45.

The emergence of policies restricting the entry of ‘alien’ species and migrants The native-alien dichotomy first emerged in the 1830s when John Stevens Henslow and Hewet Cottrell Watson sought to define British plants, which in turn gave rise to the botanical practice of marking ‘alien’ species with asterisks to denote their inferiority relative to native species46. It was only in reaction to the rise of anti-immigrant sentiment and discourse in British society towards the end of the 19th century, however, that the origin of plant species truly became of concern to conservationists47. The arrival of thousands of Jewish people from Eastern Europe to the East End of London in the 1890s gave rise to sentiments of antisemitism and xenophobia within London, with native British citizens beginning to use biological imagery of disease and infection to describe migrants48. Notably, Rotherham and Lambert quote a Manchester Evening Chronicle from 1905 which paints an immigrant as “[a] dirty, destitute, diseased, verminous and criminal foreigner who dumps himself on [British] soil”49. Soon after, in an effort to preserve the country’s ‘natural heritage,’ conservationists became very preoccupied with defining and protecting native species50.

This intimacy between the perception of migrants and ‘alien’ species at the time, however, was not limited to the language wielded in public discourse and conservation alike. Turning to the United States, discussions surrounding the value of ‘alien’ species and migrants developed in synchrony among scientists and politi-

39 40

44

Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 20.

45 Rotherham and Lambert, 364.

46 Rotherham and Lambert, 57.

47 Rotherham and Lambert, 58.

48 Rotherham and Lambert, 57–58.

49 Rotherham and Lambert, 57–58.

50 Rotherham and Lambert, 57–58.

Polidori | 34 cians respectively, which in turn gave rise to methods for excluding certain categories and groups from the country51. Philip J. Pauly draws a parallel between the methods and regulations which emerged in synchrony during the 19th and 20th century to police the entry of foreign beings in general into the territory52. Notably, the gap between both debates was bridged when the logic used by botanists to select which species to preserve inspired the logic behind converting Ellis Island, which was initially designed in the 1890s to collect taxes from migrants, into a facility for filtering migrants in 190153. Importantly, the fact that medical inspection was a cornerstone in the selection process speaks to the way migrants were perceived as disease-carriers, inferior to the ‘native’ population of the United States54. In this system, only the healthiest migrants were granted entry55.

Moreover, this parallel between conservation and immigration was reinforced by the synchronized regulations which emerged to restrict the entry into the United States of ‘alien’ species, on the one hand, and migrants, on the other hand56. In his article, Daniel Simberloff neatly summarizes the evidence collected

by Pauly in a table, listing the following regulations relating to ‘alien’ species: the California state quarantine (1881), the California fruit pest law (1883), the Lacey Act (1900), and the Plant Quarantine Act (1912)57. During the same period, the following immigration policies were enacted: the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882), Ellis Island restrictions (1901), national quotas on immigration (1921), and the Immigration Act (1924)58. Accordingly, the intimacy observed by Pauly and other scholars with regards to discourse and regulations, highlights the inextricable relationship be-

51

Pauly, “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees,” 70–71.

52 Pauly, 70.

53 Pauly, 71.

54 Pauly, 71–72.

55 Pauly, 71–72.

56

Daniel Simberloff, “Confronting Introduced Species: A Form of Xenophobia?,” Biological Invasions 5, no. 3 (September 1, 2003): 184,https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1026164419010.

57 58

Simberloff, 184.

Simberloff, 184.

tween conservation science and immigration politics, which have long perpetuated the native-alien dichotomy, founded in a fear of the unknown, of the foreign ‘other’59.

The fusion of conservation science and immigration politics through the use of language The power and politicization of language Categories, labels, imagery, or language more generally, serve as powerful tools which can be wielded both positively and negatively. This section will focus on the latter in order to analyze the fusion of imagery across both conservation science and immigration politics through the use of biological imagery. Roger Zetter argues that the word ‘label’ conveys a number of ideas, in that it “recognizes both a process of identification and a mark of identity; implies something independently applied, but also something which can be chosen and amended; has a tangible and real world meaning, but is also metaphorical and symbolic”60.

Indeed, our discussion of the native-alien dichotomy set against the backdrop of ecological imperialism has already demonstrated the subjectivity of labels such as ‘native’ and ‘alien,’ as well as their increasingly inaccurate reflection of our contemporary era of globalization and climate change. Labels and categories, then, are shaped by perceptions, reflecting value judgments of a specific time and place, rather than informed by accurate representations of reality61. While the same language may be used across time, the context in which it is used and the opinion it conveys may shift.

Analyzing the representation of refugees and migrants in the media between 2000 and 2012, Terence Wright concludes that much of media coverage “[appears] to have been left in a time-warp[, and despite] the scale of a refugee crisis or humanitarian disaster, […] the visual imagery promulgated by the mainstream media remains largely the same [across situations]”62. The

59

Roger Zetter, “More Labels, Fewer Refugees: Remaking the Refugee Label in an Era of Globalization,” Journal of Refugee Studies 20, no. 2 (June 1, 2007): 185, https://doi.org/10.1093/jrs/ fem011.

60 Zetter, 173.

61 Zetter, 184.

62 Terence Wright, “The Media and Representations of Refu-

Polidori | 35 continuity in language, imagery, and classifications across time and space, however, is analytically useful, as Ghassan Hage argues, for “[understanding] the way ‘the Muslim refugee’ is experienced in the West”63.

Hage’s observation underlines the analytical power of language, which is more indicative of perceptions than policies and regulations. For example, according to Zetter, the official, legal distinction between refugees and migrants is increasingly confounded in public discourse and the media, having effectively transformed “the refugee label [into] shorthand for any form of migrant”64 as well as framing the international right of seeking asylum “no longer [as] a basic Convention right, but [as] a highly privileged prize which few deserve and most claim illegally”65. As such, the politicization of the refugee label fails to reflect its legal dimensions and increasingly vilifies the displaced instead of acknowledging the broader structural drivers of migration at play.

The use of arborescent, soil, and liquid imagery A closer look at the metaphysical and symbolic imagery used to describe migrants and refugees reveals the prominent use of biological terms, as the rest of this section will discuss. The fact that language associated with nature is embedded in discourse surrounding refugees and migrants echoes Liisa Malkki’s discussion of refugee representation in the media. Terence Wright quotes her as explaining that “[the] visual conventions for representing refugees […] have the effect of constructing refugees as a bare humanity – even as a merely biological or demographic presence”66. In this sense, the idea that refugees are stripped down to ‘mere biological beings’ also echoes Hannah Arendt’s discussion of how “the loss of a polity itself expels [a

gees and Other Forced Migrants,” in The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies, 2014, 3, https://doi. org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199652433.013.0034.

63 Ghassan Hage, “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’

(Polity, 2017),” Blogspot, Hage Ba’a (blog), February 19, 2017, https://hageba2a.blogspot.com/2017/02/about-is-racism-environmental-threat.html.

64 Zetter, “More Labels, Fewer Refugees,” 186.

65 Zetter, 184.

66 Wright, “The Media and Representations of Refugees and Other Forced Migrants,” 3–4.

displaced person] from humanity,”67 suggesting that less than human, migrants and refugees are perceived as biotic components.

This perception is reflected, notably, in the use of arborescent and soil imagery. Ingrained in the sedentary bias, this imagery is embedded in the notion of attachment, or ‘rootedness’, and is therefore a common metaphor used to talk about identity and nationalism68.

Liisa Malkki argues that “[thinking] about nations and national identities may take the form of roots, trees, origins, ancestries, racial lines, autochthonism, evolutions, developments, or any number of other familiar, essentializing images [but] what they share is a genealogical form of thought, which […] is peculiarly arborescent”69. Closely related, the metaphysical symbolism of soil is embedded in much of the language already used in this essay, including labels such as ‘native’ and ‘indigenous,’ which “have all served to root cultures in soil”70.

Together, these botanical and ecological terms, as Malkki describes them, help further alienate the foreigner, who clashes with this poetic nationalist imagery: the displaced are ‘uprooted’ peoples who have lost their place in this world71. The rooted-uprooted division which is implicit to the use of this metaphysical symbolism, perpetuates the native-alien dichotomy.

By emphasizing the need and value of being grounded in this world using arborescent and soil imagery, the label ‘alien,’ used to pejoratively describe non-natives across all species, serves as a striking antonym to the notion of ‘rootedness’ and ‘genealogy’ as it reinforces the idea of migrants and refugees as anomalies in this world, with no attachment to place or people. Combined, the imagery of ‘uprooted aliens’ takes on a deeper symbolism: the displaced are deemed quite literally ‘extra-terrestrial’ in that their roots have been ripped from the soil of this earth around which they now roam

67

Arendt, “The Decline of the Nation-State and the Rights of Man,” 297.

68 Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” 27.

69 Malkki, 28.

70 Malkki, 29.

71 Malkki, 31–32.

Polidori | 36 as vagabonds. In contrast to this violent and chaotic imagery associated with the notion of ‘uprootedness’, Malkki notes that the movement of expatriates is generally described using imagery of ‘transplantation’72.

Indeed, the privileged mobile class of this world is seen as “[picking] up their roots in an orderly manner”73 in order to replant them peacefully and intentionally in the soil of another country. Nonetheless, while the use of this language may contribute to the negative perception of migrants and refugees relative to expatriates, these examples of arborescent and soil imagery also illustrate the contrasting experiences of mobility across these different categories (namely the degree to which some migrate out of their own volition, out of necessity, or out of precarity).

More emphasis is placed, still, on the ‘uprootedness’ of migrants and refugees, through the use of liquid imagery. As Wright points out in his study of media coverage on migration-related topics, “[reporters often] resort to newspaper-style metaphors and refer to ‘the tide of immigration’; ‘floods of refugees’; ‘at first a trickle, then a stream’ ”74. This imagery paints the movements of refugees and migrants not as a clean ‘transplantation,’ but as an unstoppable, all-encompassing, uncontrollable wave75. In other words, this language communicates the impression that refugees and immigrants are “everywhere[, that they] are growing locally while also traversing and overflowing national borders”76.

Given that the majority of migrants and refugees that travel from Africa to Europe risk their lives on flimsy and overloaded boats to cross the Mediterranean Sea, the use of liquid and water imagery is unsurprising: with the overload of images of refugee boats at sea in the media, the Western spectator no longer differentiates between the individuals, nor between the groups and the environment they are in. Instead, human and environment fuse together as one in the spectator’s mind, becoming an “objectified, undifferentiated

mass”77. This perception is further strengthened by the insistence on statistics when reporting on refugees, instead of differentiating between their unique lived experiences. On the other hand, the use of liquid imagery, specifically of water, through the use of words like ‘wave,’ ‘tide,’ and ‘flow’ also reflects the perceived invisibility of refugees and migrants, who are compared to a liquid that is colorless, transparent, and boundless in form. This invisibility reflects, notably, the difficulty that displaced persons face as ‘aliens’ in having their international human rights honored and in obtaining recognition, and secure immigration status, from a given nation-state. Finally, the boundlessness of the movements of displaced persons evoked in the use of liquid imagery reinforces their perceived detachment from the world, since this language is not limited to describing refugees and immigrants travelling by sea, but more generally to describe any movement of displaced persons which are ‘en masse’78.

The use of pathogenic and ecological waste imagery The use of arborescent, soil, and liquid imagery appears relatively harmless, however, when contrasted with the use of pathogenic and ecologic waste symbolism, which add a layer of threat to the “objectified, undifferentiated mass”79 being described. More than just biological beings, the displaced are now likened quite literally to ‘invasive alien species’, that is, to non-native species which are harmful to the biodiversity they ‘invade’. One of the threats associated with IAS in conservation science, in fact, is that “[invasive] plants and animals may also serve as disease vectors that spread parasites and pathogens that may further disrupt invaded areas”80. While the language of vermine, and its connection to the emergence of anti-immigrant sentiment in Britain in the 19th century, has

77

Malkki, 31–32.

Malkki, 31–32.

74 Wright, “The Media and Representations of Refugees and Other Forced Migrants,” 5.

75 Hage, “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’ (Polity, 2017).”

76 Hage.

72 73

Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” 34.

78 Wright, “The Media and Representations of Refugees and Other Forced Migrants,” 5.

79 Malkki, “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees,” 34.

80 Rafferty, “Invasive Species.”

Polidori | 37 already been discussed, this theme is particularly relevant against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic.

From the very beginning, the global health crisis was accompanied by an abundant use of pathogenic imagery and metaphors targeted at migrants and refugees, not only to describe them as infestations and parasites in and of themselves, as was done in the 19th century, but also as disease-carriers and transmitters. Media Matters for America, a non-profit dedicated to monitoring the spread of misinformation in media coverage, particularly by conservative news outlets and journalists, illustrates how coverage of the coronavirus

by Fox News, for example, shifted from treating the pandemic as a hoax at first, to “racist fearmongering and perverse victory-lapping about strict immigration enforcement”81. This behaviour and rhetoric was not unique to the United States, however, as nationalist Prime Minister Viktor Orban also blamed the spread of the virus in Hungary on migrants, claiming that it only spread among foreigners82. This kind of attitude and discourse both further dehumanize the displaced by stripping them down to their biological being, but is also racist and stigmatizing, as it exaggerates the importance of the origin of the virus. While the virus was first transmitted to humans in Wuhan, it has been spread to all parts of the globe through community transmission from person to person83 (who have all acted as disease-carriers and transmitters), and importantly, by the privileged, global mobile class84.

81

John Whitehouse and Bobby Lewis, “Anti-Asian Bigotry and Anti-Immigrant Policies Take Center Stage in Right-Wing Media’s Coronavirus Coverage,” Media Matters for America, March 19, 2020, https://www.mediamatters.org/coronavirus-covid-19/ anti-asian-bigotry-and-anti-immigrant-policies-take-centerstage-right-wing.

Furthermore, not be overlooked is the fact that, like the influenza A virus or the swine flu85, COVID-19 originated in animal-human relations: “most cases in China were found to have a direct or indirect link to Huanan Seafood Market in Wuhan, possibly due to thee zoonotic spill over from wild animals to the humans”86. In effect, by describing refugees, migrants, and people of Asian origin as disease-carriers and transmitters, racial and xenophobic discourse surrounding COVID-19 is quite literally comparing these people to the animals who transmitted the virus in the first place. This implied imagery of animality thereby further dehumanizes immigrants and refugees, who are described as even less than bare biological beings, but even as bacteria and animals, the latter of which (with the exception of pets) are overwhelmingly seen as inferior to humans in the world, with the use of livestock animals for food production.

Ghassan Hage, meanwhile, brings up another relevant fusion of language between immigration discourse and biological imagery, notably, the way the Australian government likens refugee boats to oceanic waste87.

Hage writes that “the way the government spoke of the people smugglers who ‘dumped’ refugees in the ocean was very similar to the language used to speak of people illegally dumping toxic waste”88. In producing this parallel, the Australian government signals their perception of refugees as “waste, unrecyclable, ungovernable, [boundless], and toxic”89. Much like the ecological crisis of our era, in which climate change has been inaccurately described as an externally driven, uncontrollable force threatening nation states, by using imagery which compares refugees to ecological waste (and pathogens), displaced persons are perceived as more than just ubiquitous: they are a biological threat, harmful and toxic90.

82

“Hungary’s Orban Blames Foreigners, Migration for Coronavirus Spread,” France 24, March 13, 2020, https://www.france24.com/ en/20200313-hungary-s-pm-orban-blames-foreign-students-migra-

tion-for-coronavirus-spread.

83 Kamal Kant Sahu, Ajay Kumar Mishra, and Amos Lal, “Trajectory of the COVID-19 Pandemic: Chasing a Moving Target,” Annals of Translational Medicine 8, no. 11 (June 2020): 2, https:// doi.org/10.21037/atm-20-2793.

84 Aleksandar Valjarević et al., “Modelling and Mapping of the COVID-19 Trajectory and Pandemic Paths at Global Scale: A Geographer’s Perspective,” Open Geosciences 12, no. 1 (November 2020): 1603–16, https://doi.org/10.1515/geo-2020-0156.

85

Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 28.

86 Sahu, Mishra, and Lal, “Trajectory of the COVID-19 Pandemic,” 2.

87 Hage, “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’ (Polity, 2017).”

88 Hage.

89 Hage.

90 Hage.

Polidori | 38 In turn, this analogy brings up another striking parallel between the discourse surrounding ‘invasive alien species’ and displaced persons: as ‘alien’ beings polluting the environments or territories they enter. In conservation science, ‘invasive alien species’ are considered a threat to biodiversity because they have the potential to engender global homogenization through genetic pollution91. In other words, by breeding with native species (hybridization), ‘invasive alien species’ are perceived as diluting native genes and reducing the fitness of native species (their ability to adapt and survive)92.

Similarly, refugees are framed as not only ‘polluting’ the oceans and coastlines of North America, Europe, and Australia, but as contaminating the purity of the native populations of these nation-states. Indeed, ‘uprootedness’ clashes with the nationalist ideal of having a homogenous native population without foreigners.

Former President Donald Trump’s language, for example, is laden with this sentiment, describing immigration from south of the United States’ border as an “invasion”93.

More fundamentally, however, this imagery of ecological waste also frames refugees and immigrants as such: “[they are] the refuse, the by-product of wars or of social transformations that uproot people from their land and their societies without these societies having the means of re-integrating them”94. Both the ecological crisis and the ‘refugee crisis’ are symptomatic of the demise of colonial capitalism and the by-product of the West’s attempt at domesticating both people and resources (nature) through their instrumentalization and overexploitation95. This domestication is present in the West’s ecological imperialism, in which European colonists successfully instrumentalized and dominated the land and people on the territories they colonized,

but also in immigration policies which have been enacted in the West since the 19th century in an attempt to control the movements of displaced persons, and finally, in the regulations aimed at managing the threat of ‘invasive alien species’96. This “dying domestication”97, in turn, has led to a rising sentiment in the West of being ‘invaded’ by these threatening ubiquitous displaced persons and feeling “under siege,”98 leading the West to play into “fantasies of reverse colonization,”99 imagining formerly colonized populations as coming to colonize and domesticate the West100. This sentiment of fear is not only reflected in the biological imagery explored throughout this final section but also materialized through the increasing militarization of borders and the use of immigration detention facilities across the West101.

Conclusion This essay has explored the relationship between conservation science and immigration politics, notably through the native-alien dichotomy, ecological imperialism, the synchrony of regulations targeting ‘invasive alien species’ and migrants, as well as the fusion of language between the two through the use of botanical and pathogenic imagery. The themes explored, and more broadly the integration of the notion of ‘invasive alien species’ into the study of displacement, has shed light into how refugees and migrants are experienced in the West, notably, as a ubiquitous biological threat.

This perception is both harmful and counterproductive as it overlooks the structural drivers of migration, resulting in the overwhelming dehumanization, and continued marginalization, of refugees and migrants. This also makes the resettlement and integration of newcomers into their host country even more challenging.

A further exploration of these themes could include an exploration of space, comparing the concept of the national park to the refugee camp as two artificial (ex-

91

Rotherham and Lambert, Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals, 28.

92 Rotherham and Lambert, 28.

93 Anthony Rivas, “Trump’s Language about Mexican Immigrants under Scrutiny in Wake of El Paso Shooting,” ABC News, August 4, 2019, https://abcnews.go.com/US/trumps-language-mexican-immigrants-scrutiny-wake-el-paso/story?id=64768566.

94 Hage, “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’ (Polity, 2017).”

95 Hage, “État de Siège,” 38.

Hage, 38.

Hage, 38.

98 Hage, 38.

99 Hage, “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’ (Polity, 2017).”

100 Hage, “État de Siège,” 45.

101 Hage, 39.

96 97

Polidori | 39 tra-territorial) spaces for protecting animals, plants, and displaced persons respectively. These spaces could in turn be contrasted with a comparison of zoos and detention centers, as additional artificial, but also lucrative, sites in which ‘alien’ species and displaced persons are held captive respectively while benefiting the nation-state. With that being said, this essay has demonstrated the importance of remaining critical of media coverage and public discourse, as well as political debate, surrounding immigration and ‘refugee crises,’ as these easily play into the native-alien dichotomy and the framing of displaced persons as biological threats, instead of addressing the structural drivers of migration or the needs of migrants and refugees.

Polidori | 40 Works Cited Arendt, Hannah. “The Decline of the Nation-State and the Rights of Man.” In The Origins of Totalitarianism, 267–302. Meridian Book s, 1951.

Crosby, Alfred W. Ecological Imperialism: The Biological Expansion of Europe, 900–1900. Cambridge University Press, 2015. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9781316424032.

Curry, Andrew. “Who Were the First Europeans?” National Geographic, 2019.

Hage, Ghassan. “About ‘Is Racism an Environmental Threat?’ (Polity, 2017).” Blogspot. Hage Ba’a (blog), February 19, 2017. https://hageba2a.blogspot.com/2017/02/about-is-racism-environmental-threat.html.

———. “État de Siège: A Dying Domesticating Colonialism?” American Ethnologist 43, no. 1 (2016): 38–49. https://doi.org/10.1111/amet.12261.

Hansen, Randall. “State Controls: Borders, Refugees, and Citizenship.” In The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies, 2014. https://doi.org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199652433.013.0032.

“Hungary’s Orban Blames Foreigners, Migration for Coronavirus Spread.” France 24, March 13, 2020. https:// www.france24.com/en/20200313-hungary-s-pm-orban-blames-foreign-students-migration-for-coronavirusspread.

Malkki, Liisa. “National Geographic: The Rooting of Peoples and the Territorialization of National Identity Among Scholars and Refugees.” Cultural Anthropology 7, no. 1 (1992): 24–44.

Marks, Robert B. The Origins of the Modern World: A Global and Ecological Narrative from the Fifteenth to the Twenty-First Century. Third. Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2015.

Pauly, Philip J. “The Beauty and Menace of the Japanese Cherry Trees: Conflicting Visions of American Ecological Independence.” Isis 87, no. 1 (1996): 51–73.

Rafferty, John P. “Invasive Species.” In Encyclopedia Britannica. Accessed April 20, 2020. https://www.britannica.com/science/invasive-species.

Rivas, Anthony. “Trump’s Language about Mexican Immigrants under Scrutiny in Wake of El Paso Shooting.” ABC News, August 4, 2019. https://abcnews.go.com/US/trumps-language-mexican-immigrants-scrutiny-wake-el-paso/story?id=64768566.

Rotherham, Ian D., and Robert A. Lambert. Invasive and Introduced Plants and Animals: Human Perceptions, Attitudes and Approaches to Management. London, UNITED KINGDOM: Routledge, 2011. http://ebookcentral. proquest.com/lib/mcgill/detail.action?docID=1099101.

Sahu, Kamal Kant, Ajay Kumar Mishra, and Amos Lal. “Trajectory of the COVID-19 Pandemic: Chasing a Moving Target.” Annals of Translational Medicine 8, no. 11 (June 2020): 694–694. https://doi.org/10.21037/atm20-2793.

Scanes, Colin G. “Chapter 17 - Invasive Species.” In Animals and Human Society, edited by Colin G. Scanes and Samia R. Toukhsati, 413–26. Academic Press, 2018. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-12-805247-1.00024-1.

Polidori | 41 Shah, Sonia. “Native Species or Invasive? The Distinction Blurs as the World Warms.” Yale E360, January 14, 2020. https://e360.yale.edu/features/native-species-or-invasive-the-distinction-blurs-as-the-world-warms.

Simberloff, Daniel. “Confronting Introduced Species: A Form of Xenophobia?” Biological Invasions 5, no. 3 (September 1, 2003): 179–92. https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1026164419010.

UNHCR. “Asylum and Migration.” UNHCR. Accessed April 18, 2020. https://www.unhcr.org/asylum-and-migration.html.

———. “Who We Help.” UNHCR. Accessed April 18, 2020. https://www.unhcr.org/who-we-help.html.

Valjarević, Aleksandar, Marija Milić, Dragana Valjarević, Zorica Stanojević-Ristić, Ljiljana Petrović, Miško Milanović, Dejan Filipović, Branko Ristanović, Biljana Basarin, and Tin Lukić. “Modelling and Mapping of the COVID-19 Trajectory and Pandemic Paths at Global Scale: A Geographer’s Perspective.” Open Geosciences 12, no. 1 (November 2020): 1603–16. https://doi.org/10.1515/geo-2020-0156.

Whitehouse, John, and Bobby Lewis. “Anti-Asian Bigotry and Anti-Immigrant Policies Take Center Stage in Right-Wing Media’s Coronavirus Coverage.” Media Matters for America, March 19, 2020. https://www.mediamatters.org/coronavirus-covid-19/anti-asian-bigotry-and-anti-immigrant-policies-take-center-stage-right-wing.

Wright, Terence. “The Media and Representations of Refugees and Other Forced Migrants.” In The Oxford Handbook of Refugee and Forced Migration Studies, 2014. https://doi.org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780199652433.013.0034.

Zetter, Roger. “More Labels, Fewer Refugees: Remaking the Refugee Label in an Era of Globalization.” Journal of Refugee Studies 20, no. 2 (June 1, 2007): 172–92. https://doi.org/10.1093/jrs/fem011.

Greisman | 43 Abstract Large-scale land concessions, otherwise known as land grabbing, occur largely in developing countries. This phenomenon is a prevalent issue in the small Southeast Asian nation of Laos. This paper argues that land grabbing in Laos stems largely from complex historical causes rather than more proximate ones and explores the ways in which historical conflicts within Laos have shaped government land-distribution and concession policy. The historico-political perspective offered demonstrates the key linkages that exist between past and present situations in Laos. Laos’s involvement in the First and Second Indochina Wars is found to contribute to its current context through Baird and Le Billon’s framework of political memories and political landscapes. This framework is then tied to the country’s experience during the Lao Communist revolution, especially the division between the communists and the Pathet Lao. This leads into discussion of Laos as a theatre of the Cold War and the impact of discrimination against the Hmong, one of Laos’s ethnic minority groups, on contemporary land concessions. The paper concludes that, although rising occurrences of land concessions in Laos have various underlying causes, they can primarily be attributed to deeply-rooted historical factors.

Résumé Les concessions de terres à grande échelle, aussi appelées “land grabbing”, se produisent en grande partie dans les pays en développement. Ce phénomène est très répandu au Laos, une petite nation d’Asie du Sud-Est. Cet article soutient que l’accaparement des terres au Laos découle en grande partie de causes historiques complexes plutôt que de causes plus proches et explore la manière dont les conflits historiques au Laos ont façonné la politique gouvernementale de distribution et de concession des terres. La perspective historico-politique proposée démontre les liens clés qui existent entre les situations passées et présentes au Laos. L’implication du Laos dans les première et deuxième guerres d’Indochine est considérée comme contribuant à son contexte actuel à travers le cadre des mémoires politiques et des paysages politiques de Baird et Le Billon. Ce cadre est ensuite lié à l’expérience du pays pendant la révolution communiste laotienne, en particulier la division entre les communistes et le Pathet Lao. Cela conduit à une discussion sur le Laos en tant que théâtre de la guerre froide et sur l’impact de la discrimination contre les Hmong, l’une des minorités ethniques du Laos, sur les concessions foncières contemporaines. L’article conclut que, bien que la multiplication des concessions de terres au Laos ait des causes sous-jacentes diverses, elle peut être principalement attribuée à des facteurs historiques profondément enracinés.

Greisman | 44 Introduction One of the smallest and poorest nations in Southeast Asia, Laos is oftentimes referred to as the region’s ‘forgotten country’. It is Southeast Asia’s only landlocked country and one of the few remaining communist states in the world. Laos became a French protectorate in 1893 and remained mainly under French control until, in 1954, it gained independence as a constitutional monarchy. It achieved independence after a civil war erupted between the royalists and the Pathet Lao, a local communist group. Communist forces overthrew the monarchy in 1975, and on December 2, 1975 the Lao People’s Revolutionary Party (LPRP) officially established the Lao People’s Democratic Republic (LPDR).

The ‘new global land grab’ appeared on the international stage in 2008 after GRAINS’s 2008 report entitled “Seized: The 2008 Land Grab for Food and Financial Security.”1 Land deals or concessions are often referred to in the media as land grabs and have been occurring on a large scale across the developing world. While land grabbing is not a new phenomenon, it gained momentum as a result of the spike in global food prices that took place in 2007-20082. Laos is one of the countries in which “more than one percent of the land has been controversially allocated to large-scale agricultural concessions.”3 Rising occurrences of land concessions in Laos have various underlying causes; however, this paper seeks to demonstrate that they can primarily be attributed to deeply-rooted historical factors. In order to understand the phenomenon of land concessions in Laos, it is imperative to acknowledge that the country is still in a post-war transition period.

The motivations behind the Lao government’s decisions regarding land concessions can be found by analyzing the country’s involvement in the First and Second Indochina Wars, the Lao Communist revolution, and Laos as a theatre of the Cold War, all of which are interrelated.

Laos’s French Colonial History The present situation in Laos is deeply related to its history as a French colony and more importantly its involvement in the Indochina Wars and the Cold War. Since 1975, Laos has been an authoritarian one-party state governed by the LPRP, which has complete control over the media and suppresses criticism, as well as any calls for multi-party democracy4. The First (19471954) and Second (1953-1973) Indochina Wars had significant effects on the Lao population and “greatly disrupted life throughout the country.”5 Conflict, in the form of anti-government insurgency, continued after the Pathet Lao took over in 1975, well into the 1980s.

In some central and northern areas, conflict lasted further, into the 1990s and 2000s. In 1988, Thai Prime Minister, Chatichai Choonhavan, famously called to “turn ‘battlefields into marketplaces’.”6 This infamous quote illustrates the environment of violence that encompassed the region throughout the 1970s and 1980s, despite the end of the ‘Vietnam’ war having officially occurred over a decade prior. Due to the closed nature of Lao politics, these ongoing struggles have remained mostly unseen and unheard of by foreigners; however, these post-conflict dynamics are essential to understanding how land concessions have played out and continue to do so today. Land concessions have made their way to Laos as a result of the country’s significant reforms, which began with the 1986 ‘New Economic Mechanism’ created in hopes of liberalizing the economy and encouraging greater foreign investment.7 Indochina Wars and Political Memories One way in which the Indochina Wars are relevant to land concessions is through political memories that influence decision-making for both the government of Laos and international actors. This phenomenon was

Baird and Le Billon, 294 Baird and Le Billon, 294 6 Michael Benjamin Dwyer. “Territorial Affairs: Turning Battlefields into Marketplaces in Postwar Laos,” UC Berkeley (2011):6 7 Guillaume Lestrelin et al. “The Context of REDD+ in the Lao People’s Democratic Republic: Drivers, Agents, Institutions,” Center for International Forestry Research, (2013): 27.

4

1

GRAIN. “The Global Farmland Grab in 2016: How Big, How Bad?” Grain, 14 Jun 2016.

2 The Transnational Institute. “The Global Land Grab: A Primer,” TNI, (2012): 3.

3 Ian G. Baird and Philippe Le Billon. “Landscapes of Political Memories: War Legacies and Land Negotiations in Laos,” Political Geography 31, no. 5 (2012): 292.

5

Greisman | 45 illustrated by Baird and Le Billon in 2012 through their use of the framework of political memories and political landscapes. The framework was used to show that memories of past wartime or military affiliations of local communities can be influential in many ways on the decision-making processes regarding largescale land concessions. An important example is the political memories of alliances between the Pathet Lao and North Vietnamese forces. As a result of perceived Vietnamese sacrifices made during these conflicts, proposals by Vietnamese companies have consistently been “vetted in a preferential way”8. The history of conflict within Laos is the basis for the political memories discussed above, which are themselves the basis for establishing political capital. The combination of political capital and the weight of these political memories has combined to deeply influence negotiations on land concessions. Acknowledging the role of political memories in this process “can help us to see how people think about and remember what they see as illegitimate processes related to … legalized land and resource grabbing, or the destruction of resources and associated livelihoods, through government issued concessions for mining, hydropower, dams and industrial plantations”9. This framework is useful for analyzing Laos throughout its history, from the Indochina Wars, through the Cold War and up to the present day.

Laos as a Theatre of the Cold War Further exploration of the history of the Lao communist revolution and Laos as an international theatre for the Cold War reveals deep American involvement in the country. The impact that American involvement has in Laos is often underrecognized in comparison to the war in Vietnam and conflict in Cambodia that both took place over the same time period. Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, the Americans waged a ‘secret war’ in Laos that has left lasting impacts on the country and has significant impacts on today’s land concessions. These past geopolitics can be looked at through the contemporary policy of ‘turning land into capital’

Baird and Le Billon, 295 Ian G. Baird.“Political Memories of Conflict, Economic Land Concessions, and Political Landscapes in the Lao People’s Democratic Republic,” Geoforum 52 (2014): 67.

8 9

(TLIC) described as “a strategy for generating revenue and economic value from ‘state land’.”10 The legacy of Physiocrats’ ideas, a group of eighteenth-century French philosophers, is evident in Laos today through the policy of TLIC. Historically, this policy can be traced to a generation of French colonialists inspired by the Physiocrats, who perpetuated an image of Laos as a “resource-rich landscape to be exploited by industrious outsiders”11. These ideas can clearly be seen in the government’s TLIC policy and the contemporary image of Laos as a ‘last frontier’12. Dwyer lays out a comprehensive history of conflict in Laos and remarks that several of the population management techniques used by the government date back to the 1980s, when security and development were two separate but concurrent goals of the LPRP13. This leads directly into the proxy war that the United States of America carried out in Laos throughout the 1960s and 70s.

The Laotian Crisis and the ‘Tribal Program’ The so-called Laotian Crisis occurred in mid-1960, when the American-backed Prime Minister was temporarily ousted by a military coup. At this time, the Americans began to fear losing Laos to communism, as so famously vocalized by then-President Eisenhower when he stated “If Laos is lost to the free world, in the long run we will lose all of Southeast Asia”14.

The shift from Eisenhower’s Cold War to Kennedy’s brought numerous impactful changes to Laos, most notably the American ‘tribal program’15. Therefore, Americans launched Operation Momentum in Laos, which essentially merged “earlier French efforts [that began] in the 1950s to channel ‘minority grievances’ into anti-Viet Minh resistance and American efforts, [that began] around the same time, to defend Thailand

10

Bounnhong Pathammavong et al. “Financing the 450 Year Road: Land Expropriation and Politics ‘All the Way Down’ in Vientiane, Laos,” Development and Change 48, no. 6 (2017): 1417.

11 Dwyer, 29.

12 Dwyer, 29.

13 Dwyer, 9.

14 Dwyer, 50 15 Dwyer, 50

Greisman | 46 against a possible Chinese invasion”16. The Americans used upland minorities, specifically the Hmong, to form a CIA intelligence network and militia within the country. This strategy gave them the plausible deniability they required to continue carrying out operations in Laos after the Geneva Accords officially ‘neutralized’ the country. These ethnic tactics, used for the purposes of anti-government counterinsurgency, have had lasting effects on the Lao population and political dynamics. These effects can be seen in the way that the Hmong are widely thought by the government of Laos to represent a security problem and have been subject to different population management techniques than other segments of the population. It is worth noting that Laos has four broad ethno-linguistic families, which can be broken down into 49 ethnic groups and 160 subgroups17. The historically dominant Ethnic Lao make up just over half the population and primarily live in the country’s lowlands, while the uplands are home to the various ethnic minorities or hill tribes. The Hmong counterinsurgents were funded by the CIA and continued to fight against the communists after they took power in 197518. This has resulted in the continuous resettlement of and active discrimination against the Hmong by the government of Laos, which demonstrates the clear effects of American intervention on the contemporary socio-political reality of life in Laos19.

The population management techniques used by the Lao government to control the Hmong are another example of how political capital and political memories have influenced contemporary government-decision making in the country.

Conclusion The rising occurrences of large-scale land concessions, or land grabbing, in Laos has a variety of complex causes, many of which are deeply rooted in the country’s history of conflict. Laos was involved in the First

Dwyer, 51 “Laos: Minorities and Indigenous Peoples,” Minority Rights Groups International, July 2018.

18 David Chandler et al. The Emergence of Modern Southeast Asia: A New History, edited by Norman G. Owen. University of Hawai’i Press (2005): 375.

19 Baird, 295 16 17

and Second Indochina Wars and was an international theatre for the Cold War, while experiencing its own communist revolution. This post-war transition context is important as it allows for the analysis of contemporary land concession negotiations from a historical and political perspective. As demonstrated by Baird and Le Billon, political memories and political capital associated with the various conflicts Laos was engaged in are important to land concession processes today, specifically the degree to which parties involved are linked to the communists and the Pathet Lao, which has evolved into the current LPRP government. Furthermore, the secret American war or proxy war carried out in Laos throughout the 1960s and 1970s involved several upland ethnic minorities, notably the Hmong, who were trained and funded by the CIA. The Hmong continued carrying out anti-government counterinsurgency activities after the Pathet Lao claimed power in 1975, into the 1980s, 90s and even the 2000s. Today, the Hmong are discriminated against by the government and subject to different population management techniques due to their military history as counterinsurgents and the wide perception of them as a security threat within Laos. While there are clearly some proximate factors at play given that large-scale land concessions are a relatively ‘new’ phenomenon, the politics behind land concession negotiations and decisions in Laos can largely be attributed to deeply rooted historical factors centering on the nation’s history of violent conflict.

Greisman | 47 Works Cited Baird, Ian G. “Political Memories of Conflict, Economic Land Concessions, and Political Landscapes in the Lao People’s Democratic Republic.” Geoforum 52 (2014): 61-69. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.geoforum.2013.12.012.

Baird, Ian G., and Philippe Le Billon. “Landscapes of Political Memories: War Legacies and Lang Negotiations in Laos.” Political Geography 31, no. 5 (2012): 290-300. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.polgeo.2012.04.005.

Chandler, David, et al. The Emergence of Modern Southeast Asia: A New History, edited by Norman G. Owen.

University of Hawai’i Press (2005).

Dwyer, Michael Benjamin. “Territorial Affairs: Turning Battlefields into Marketplaces in Postwar Laos.” UC Berkeley (2011): 1-170. https://escholarship.org/uc/item/67m1169x.

GRAIN. “The Global Farmland Grab in 2016: How Big, How Bad?” Grain. (2016). https://grain.org/article/entries/5492-the-global-farmland-grab-in-2016-how-big-how-bad “Laos: Minorities and Indigenous Peoples.” Minority Rights Groups International, July 2018, https://minorityrights.org/country/laos.

Lestrelin, Guillaume, et al. “The Context of REDD+ in the Lao People’s Democratic Republic: Drivers, Agents, Institutions.” Center for International Forestry Research, (2013): 1-52. https://academia.edu/20733952/The_context_of_REDD_in_the_Lao_Peoples_Democratic_Republic_Drivers_agants_and_institutions.

Pathammavong, Bounnhong, et al. “Financing the 450 Year Road: Land Expropriation and Politics ‘All the Way Down’ in Vientiane, Laos.” Development and Change 48, no. 6 (2017): 1417-1438. https://doi-org.proxy3.library. mcgill.ca/10.1111/dech.12339.

The Transnational Institute. “The Global Land Grab: A Primer.” TNI. (2012): 1-35. https://www.tni.org/en/publication/the-global-land-grab.

Scott | 49 Abstract While the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement took hold across the US and the world during June of 2020, Indonesia experienced a divergent, localized version: Papuan Lives Matter (PLM). Much like their American relative, PLM protests galvanized the deep-rooted grievances of a long-mistreated minority population. Yet unlike BLM, PLM brought forth grievances long expressed as part of a nationalist movement. In this piece, I explore the roots of this West Papuan nationalism. When theorizing on nation-building, scholars often take discourse and social structure as distinct factors.

Famously, Benedict Anderson argues that nations are “imagined communities” while, in contrast to this, prominent sociologist Charles Tilly argues that beliefs necessarily follow social structure.

Who is right? While emphasizing social structure over discourse (or vice-versa) often enables parsimonious theory-building, this distinction is neither accurate nor helpful for understanding national-building processes. Instead, I argue that, in West Papua, social structure and discourse worked in tandem to drive national construction. As both of these factors are heavily interrelated, neither beliefs nor social structure should be seen as preceding their opposite. Contemporary notions of West Papuan nationhood thus neither result from discourse or from social structure, but rather from the interaction between the two.

Résumé Alors que le mouvement Black Lives Matter (BLM) s’est implanté aux États-Unis et dans le monde entier en juin 2020, l’Indonésie a connu une version divergente et localisée : Papuan Lives Matter (PLM). Tout comme leur parent américain, les protestations du PLM ont galvanisé les griefs profondément enracinés d’une population minoritaire longtemps maltraitée. Pourtant, contrairement au BLM, le PLM a fait naître des griefs longtemps exprimés dans le cadre d’un mouvement nationaliste. Dans cet article, j’explore les racines de ce nationalisme de Papouasie occidentale. Lorsqu’ils élaborent des théories sur la construction de la nation, les universitaires considèrent souvent le discours et la structure sociale comme des facteurs distincts. Benedict Anderson affirme que les nations sont des “communautés imaginaires”, tandis que l’éminent sociologue Charles Tilly affirme que les croyances suivent nécessairement la structure sociale. Qui a raison ? Bien que l’accent mis sur la structure sociale plutôt que sur le discours (ou vice-versa) permette souvent de construire des théories parcimonieuses, cette distinction n’est ni exacte ni utile pour comprendre les processus de construction nationale. Au contraire, je soutiens qu’en Papouasie occidentale, la structure sociale et le discours ont travaillé en tandem pour conduire la construction nationale. Comme ces deux facteurs sont fortement liés, ni les croyances ni la structure sociale ne doivent être considérées comme précédant leur contraire. Les notions contemporaines de nation en Papouasie occidentale ne résultent donc ni du discours ni de la structure sociale, mais plutôt de l’interaction entre les deux.

Scott | 50 Introduction In the middle of 2020, the murder of George Floyd triggered protests across the US over systemic anti-black racism. In step with the movement’s growth, “Black Lives Matter” quickly became a common refrain over the world. Yet, perhaps surprisingly, one of the countries where the movement found significant groundswells of support was Indonesia. Here, Indonesian activists subtly reformed the “BLM” of Black Lives Matter as “PLM”: Papuan Lives Matter. Black Lives Matter protests in the US helped reinvigorate conversation both on the treatment of Papuan citizens in Indonesia and on the simmering West Papuan nationalist movement.1 In recent years, West Papuans have driven protests across Indonesia after a set of West Papuan students who had refused to join Indonesian National Day celebrations in 2019 were locked inside a building and surrounded by groups of Indonesians who chanted for the students’ massacre and the building’s torching.2 More broadly, protesters have focused on the inequalities between West Papua and the Indonesian archipelago, continued popular anti-Papuan racism, and police brutality directed at West Papuans.3 Discrimination and protest are not contemporary phenomena for West Papuans. In reality, West Papuans have voiced frustration over their treatment ever since the region’s inclusion into Indonesia following the 1969 Act of Free Choice.4 While the early 2000s saw

1

Meitilda Yaung, “Papuan Lives Matter: What Now? An Open Letter,” The Jakarta Post, June 16, 2020, https://www.thejakartapost.com/academia/2020/06/16/papuan-lives-matter-what-nowan-open-letter.html.

2 The Jakarta Post, “Riots Flare in Manokwari after ‘racist’ Attack on Papuan Students in Surabaya,” The Jakarta Post, August 19, 2019, https://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2019/08/19/riotsflare-in-manokwari-after-racist-attack-on-papuan-students-insurabaya.html.

3 Febriana Firdaus, “Global Protests Throw Spotlight on Alleged Police Abuses in West Papua,” The Guardian, June 11, 2020, sec.

Global development, http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/jun/11/global-protests-throw-spotlight-on-allegedpolice-abuses-in-west-papua.

4 John Saltford, The United Nations and the Indonesian Takeover of West Papua, 1962-1969 : The Anatomy of Betrayal (Routledge, 2003), https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203221877.

the Indonesian central government reach solutions to ethnic separatist demands in East Timor and Aceh, violence, neglect, and derision have continued to define West Papuan-Indonesian relations since the transition away from Suharto’s New Order in 1998. Despite being granted greater regional autonomy in 2001, few West Papuans support even minimal levels of inclusion. Instead, the West Papuan nationalists (a widespread category across the West Papuan province) desire not simply local autonomy, but also the territorial sovereignty of nationhood.

What, then, are the roots of West Papua’s persistent nationalism? Why has West Papuan incorporation into the Indonesian nation failed so miserably? Contrary to some authors, I argue that West Papuan exclusion is a product of both discursive nation-making and a response to practical Indonesian exclusion. While political actors worked to construct discourses that determined the coherent boundaries of political and social identities, the Indonesian exclusion of West Papuans has had genuine consequences that continue to elicit genuine reactions from the West Papuan population.

I tell this story over three sections that discuss themes of Dutch colonialism, Indonesian exploitation, and the role of West Papuan nationalist actors.

Beyond merely explaining the origins of West Papuan nation-building, I posit a broader argument: discourse and relational networks are inseparable when discussing the construction of salient political and social identities. In reference to my case, understanding West Papuan nationalism requires one to understand both the role of discourse and the role of relational networks in building identities to explain the development of West Papuan nationalism. Explanations empty of one of these two aspects are insufficient. In my theory section, I pit Benedict Anderson’s work on nationalism against Charles Tilly’s discussion of relational networks and use their shortcomings to present a synergistic theory.

The following consists of two main sections: First, I discuss the role of discourse and relational networks in nationalism. Second, I use this to analyze the origins of West Papuan nationalism. I conclude by briefly returning to the present-day unrest.

Theory In the following section, I have three goals. First, I lay

Scott | 51 out the arguments of Benedict Anderson and Charles Tilly and present their shortcomings. Second, I examine how scholars on West Papuan nationalism have approached questions of discourse and networks. Finally, I provide my own view that considers the contrasting perspectives of Anderson5 and Tilly.6 Anderson and the Imaginary Written nearly forty years ago, Anderson’s ‘Imagined Communities’ stands as a canonical piece within the literature on the origins of nationalism. While he is often quoted for his description of nations as “imagined political communities,” such an emphasis often sells short the depth of his contribution to scholarship on nationalism. As his title might suggest, Anderson’s focus is on rooting the nation within the ‘imaginary’— how have we come to imagine ourselves as members of national communities? In his eyes, the nation is a product of the rapid transformation of the mediums through which one is able to experience the ‘simultaneity’ of one’s own life. By imagining ourselves as political, social, cultural, and economic actors who carry commonalities beyond our own person, we can assign an identity to ourselves and others. He argues that it was the proliferation of the printing press that enabled the spread of writing. This writing—in the form of novels and newspapers—allowed people to experience ‘simultaneity’ on huge scales. In essence, through the “sociological fixity that fuses the world inside the novel with the world outside,” the “national imagination” is able to spring alive.7 Further, “what made the new communities imaginable was a half-fortuitous but explosive, interaction between a system of production and productive relations (capitalism), a technology of communications (print), and the fatality of linguistic diversity”.8 As he continues in his later work, this imagination is the axle on which national identity turns: museums, maps, censuses, newspapers, and onwards all are vehicles through which bound and

unbound serialities—collective identities—have become expressed and reformed.9 Tilly and the Practical This contrasts with the perspective of Charles Tilly as expressed in his 1998 book, Durable Inequality. As his title suggests, Tilly centres his discussion on the construction of lasting inequalities between “asymmetrical pairs”.10 He argues that inequalities between social groups are products of the relational networks that form as social actors interact. These networks thus shape how individuals are able to relate to one another, enabling people to build and concretize the inequalities that exist between groups. Given this, inequality between social groups is a product primarily of these networks, not the beliefs that people hold. As Tilly puts it: “Mistaken beliefs reinforce exploitation, opportunity hoarding, emulation, and adaptation but exercise little independent influence on their initiation”.11 Given this, Tilly does not see the national collective as deriving from the ‘imagination’ of social actors (as Anderson argues). Rather, nationhood grew from changes in the practical interrelational networks that developed between individuals. In Tilly’s eyes, the nation’s imagining is consequential to, rather than formative of, nationhood. Nations exist as expressions of the various ways in which groups seek to exclude others from resources while maintaining their own unfettered access.

In short, the nation “embodies claims to prior control over a state, hence to the exclusion of others from that priority”.12 In view of this, Tilly outlines three scenarios where state-seeking nationalism—that is, nationalism that has yet to marry itself to a state structure—arises. These are: (1) when empire imposes obligations upon a previously protected minority; (2) when outside empires have supported the rebellion of peripheral populations within the empire; and (3) when expanding states have sought “expansion in the presence of well-connected populations possessing distinctive…institutions”.13

5

Benedict R. O’G. Anderson, Imagined Communities : Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London : Verso, 2016).

6 Charles Tilly, Durable Inequality, Fulcrum.Org (University of California Press, 1998).

7 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 30.

8 Anderson, 43.

9

Benedict R. O’G. Anderson, The Spectre of Comparisons: Nationalism, Southeast Asia, and the World (Verso, 1998), 30.

10 Tilly, Durable Inequality, 8.

11 Tilly, 15.

12 Tilly, 172.

13 Tilly, 176.

Scott | 52 Synthesis At this point, it is clear how these two perspectives stand at loggerheads with each other. On the one hand, Tilly insists upon the nature of relational networks as driving nation-formation. On the other, Anderson sees the nation primarily as a discursive construction produced via mediums that allow one to imagine oneself within a broader national community. I do not intend to pick sides in this piece. Rather, I want to synthesize these two perspectives: discourse and relational networks are closely related. Efforts to emphasize one as more important than the other will always provide a partial understanding of nationalism. Instead, analysis of nation formation should appreciate both sides of the coin: Discourse and practical inter-relational networks work together to drive national identity formation.

If one applies Tilly’s argument to West Papua, one would immediately run into trouble fitting West Papuan nationalism to Tilly’s three drivers of state-seeking nationalism. West Papua certainly does not fit either the image of a “protected minority” within a larger empire, nor does it fit the cast of a peripheral population supported by an outside actor seeking independence.

Further, given the diverse and relatively geographically disperse character of many parts of the Papuan population, it would also seem misplaced to typecast West Papua as “well-connected” with “distinctive institutions” prior to the eruption of nationalist sentiments.

Nevertheless, many scholars try to shoehorn West Papuan nationalism into Tilly’s third category. Such efforts allow them to present arguments that centre solely on the practical manifestations of nationalist contestations between West Papua and Indonesia. Trajano, for instance, argues that “in some multiethnic states such as Indonesia, ethnic nationalism is the response of ethnic groups to situations of ethnic-structural inequality and uneven development.”14 Alternatively, as Elmslie posits, West Papuan “nationalist feelings… are a response to economic exploitation and political suppression.”15

For these scholars, West Papuan national identity today is a product of West Papuans’ continued exclusion from resources by the Indonesian.

In contrast to Elmslie and Trajano, Anderson argues that the West Papuan nation is rooted in certain discursive elements. In ‘Imagined Communities’, Anderson argues that the Dutch mapping of West Papua defined its boundaries at the 141st parallel and sharply delineated West Papua from the nearby Maluku islands.

This delimiting of the West Papuan territory produced West Papua as an easily understandable ‘national’ territory and thus provided a coherent national territory for West Papuan nationalists to rally around. Given the relatively disperse nature of the Papuan identity, the production of a territorial base for West Papuan nationalism allowed West Papuans to coalesce around a shared identity.16 In these ways, the Dutch colonialist’s mapping of the West Papuan territory brought the West Papuan nation into existence. In this estimation, the nation is primarily a discursive construction and is not built via the ‘relational networks’ to which Tilly refers.

Overall, I believe that by themselves, Anderson’s or Tilly’s perspective fails to sufficiently account for West Papuan nationalist development. Viewed alone, Anderson’s view of the nation is, as Marx points out, ignorant of the manners in which nations also often work to exclude by ethnicity, class, race, and beyond.17 This failure is rooted in Anderson’s neglect of the crucial and evident practical drivers of nationalist sentiments in West Papua: socioeconomic exclusion, police brutality, and continued political repression. By focusing solely on the nationalist’s ‘imaginary,’ Anderson overlooks the ways in which nationalism—even when inclusive—practically works to exclude certain groups.

At the opposite end of the spectrum, Tilly gives primacy to ‘relational networks’ and, as such, refuses to entertain the role of discourse in nation formation. As I shall argue, the notion that beliefs necessarily “result from categorical relations and practices’’18 belies

14

16

Julius Cesar I. Trajano, “Ethnic Nationalism and Separatism in West Papua, Indonesia,” Journal of Peace, Conflict and Development 16 (2010): 12–35.

15 Jim Elmslie, Irian Jaya under the Gun: Indonesian Economic Development versus West Papuan Nationalism (Adelaide: Crawford House Publishing, 2002), 8.

Anderson, Imagined Communities, 178.

Anthony W. Marx, Making Race and Nation: A Comparison of South Africa, the United States, and Brazil, Cambridge Studies in Comparative Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 25, https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511810480.

18 Tilly, Durable Inequality, 102.

17

Scott | 53 the West Papuan experience with nationalism. Instead, colonial and West Papuan nationalist beliefs of innate differences between Papuan and archipelagic Indonesian individuals played important roles in shaping the construction of the West Papuan nation.

In this sense, one requires a synergistic approach to adequately explain the development of West Papuan nationalism. By refusing Tilly’s efforts to declare relational networks as primordial to beliefs and refusing to neglect the practicalities of national construction as Anderson does, I proffer a theory of nation-making that emphasizes the constructive dynamics between discourse and relational networks. The construction of the nation is a process that involves the ‘imagination’ of the nation and response to extant relational networks.

Discourse works in tandem with relational networks to shape how groups mobilize around inequality. As I discuss, West Papuan nationalism is both a discursive construct and a response to Indonesian exclusion. Socioeconomic pressures were filtered through discourse of identity, belonging, and exclusion, enabling West Papuan nationalism to become a viable contemporary identity. Yet, implicit within this, too, is the fact that nationalism is empty without reference to these provocateurs; the on-the-ground coercion of the West Papuan population by imposing Indonesian and Dutch actors is central to understanding the historical viability of West Papuan nationalism.

The Construction of West Papuan Nationalism Given the cultural, geographical, and linguistic diversity found across the Papuan island, notions of collective identity were clearly not common within a West Papuan population preceding Dutch intervention in the early 20th century. In place of this, West Papuan cultural and social life proceeded on a more atomized basis, with mountainous terrain and a lack of transportation infrastructure preventing communities from different parts of the island from coming into contact with one another. In this sense, as Mote and Rutherford make clear, arguments that prima facie take primordialist identities as drivers of ethnic conflict between West Papuans and Indonesians for granted make little sense.19 Instead, West Papuan identity has been

19

Octovianus Mote and Danilyn Rutherford, “From Irian

constructed—and this process has taken place almost completely within the 20th century. In this section, I outline how this process of construction took place.

I emphasize three drivers of West Papuan nationalism:

1. Dutch colonialist support for West Papuan identity provided a basis out of which West Papuan nationalism developed.

2.Following the 1960s, Indonesian exclusion of the West Papuan provoked the response of West Papuan nationalists.

3.West Papuans responded to Indonesian abuse by constructing and projecting West Papuan nationalism. It was this agency that was the crucial factor in shaping contemporary West Papuan nationalism.

Dutch Colonialism While the Dutch “claimed” sovereignty over West Papua in the 16th century, West Papua’s place within the Dutch Indies empire was extremely peripheral, save for the administration of several small outposts at Fakfak and Manokwari built near the ends of the 19th century.20 In fact, Dutch imperialists did not penetrate the highlands of the Papua until the 1930s. Nevertheless, the colonial Dutch played a central role in defining the West Papuan territory—and hence its people—as distinct from then developing Indonesia. As a result, throughout their period of control over West Papua, the Dutch fostered the growth of West Papuan nationalism.

This development was a result of continued Dutch interest in the territory. Prior to leaving the territory, the Dutch remained in place for thirteen years following the formal decolonization of the rest of the Dutch East Indies. This Dutch interest provided space for a sense of West Papuan identity to emerge that was distinct from a budding Indonesian nationalist identity.

In comparison to the bustling and relatively interconnected nearby archipelagic islands, New Guinea was pictured by Dutch colonists as an untouched backwa-

Java to Papua: The Limits of Primordialism in Indonesia’s Troubled East,” Indonesia, no. 72 (2001): 115–40, https://doi. org/10.2307/3351483.

20 William Henderson, West New Guinea; the Dispute and Its Settlement. (South Orange, N.J.: Seton Hall University Press, 1973), 15, https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/001155492.

Scott | 54 ter, distinct from other regional islands. To concerned Dutch imperialists, New Guinea did not “belong to the Indies Archipelago either geographically or geologically”.21 Throughout much of the most active periods of Dutch intervention in West New Guinea, the Dutch were at war with the Indonesians, seeking to prevent the decolonization of the Indonesian state. While the Dutch finally agreed to transfer sovereignty of the Dutch East Indies to Indonesia at the UN-administered “Round Table Conference” of 1950, they insisted upon continued Dutch sovereignty over West New Guinea.22 The Dutch held onto control of West Papua until 1962, when the UN oversaw a transfer of control to the Indonesians, with the Indonesians promising to carry out a vote of “self-determination” at an indeterminate point in the future.23 To many authors writing on the conflict in West Papua, the exclusion of West Papua from Indonesia’s formative years played an important role in driving the high levels of conflict between West Papua and Indonesia.

As Webster argues, “had West Papua become part of Indonesia in 1949… a different identity would likely have been formed”.24 However, the effect of Dutch interest in West Papua is more extensive than such a position implies. The Dutch had important roles in helping nationalist sentiments grow within West Papua prior to the 1960s. Penders highlights the role of Resident JPK van Eechoud, a Dutch colonial administrator in charge of the West New Guinean territory during the last years of the Pacific War.25 During his time in power, van Eechoud sought explicitly to foster a West Papuan identity within West New Guinea, notably founding a civil service school for Papuans following the end of the war. It was from this school that some of the first West Papuan nationalists emerged.

One of these emergent nationalists, Nicolaas Jouwe, recalls van Eechoud stating upon the school’s founding that “today, the New Papuan is being born”.26 Through these schools, Dutch colonial officers helped build a West Papuan identity and enabled West Papuan nationals to play a role in governance. Further, in 1946, van Eechoud implemented consultative councils throughout various central cities on the island. Through these, he hoped to bring awareness to democratic processes and “create a greater sense of Papuan national consciousness and unity”.27 Driven by views that West New Guinea was distinct from the rest of Indonesia; and enacted via activist administrators like van Eechoud, the Dutch helped provide the basis for West Papuan nationalism to grow.

Throughout the Dutch colonial period, discontent and frustration with poor socioeconomic conditions and Dutch abuse were rife. Many see this reflected in ‘Koreri’ movements: Messianic revolts that predicted the return of a saviour called ‘Manseren Manggundi.’ As Kamma argues, these were reflective of the abuse and cultural degradation that locals continued to experience under Dutch colonialism.28;29 Given this, the efforts to cajole locals towards a form of nationalist identity were seen as a way of redirecting discontent with the hopes of benefitting Dutch interests. Out of fear that West Papuan discontent might lead them towards an Indonesian nationalism, one colonial administrator argued in 1948 that it was of paramount importance for the Dutch “to extend and improve education and the government information service in order to lead the Papuan national awakening in the right direction”.30 In these ways, the Dutch helped produce a West Papuan nationalism favourable to their interests. Influential separatist-nationalist leaders—like Nicolaas Jouwe

21

C. L. M. Penders, The West New Guinea Debacle: Dutch Decolonisation and Indonesia, 1945-1962 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 2002), 58, https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/007247893 22

Saltford, The United Nations and the Indonesian Takeover of West Papua, 1962-1969, 5.

23 Saltford, 11.

24 David Webster, “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962,” in Race, Ethnicity, and the Cold War: A Global Perspective, by Philip Emil Muehlenbeck (Vanderbilt University Press, 2012), 528.

25 Penders, The West New Guinea Debacle.

Penders, 93.

Penders, 94.

28 Freerk Ch Kamma, Koreri Messianic Movements in the Biak-Numfor Culture Area: Koninklijk Instituut Voor Taal-, Land-, En Volkenkunde Translation Series 15 (Springer Science & Business Media, 2013), 157.

29 Note the similarities with how Scott (1990, 148) discusses the relationship between Millenarian cults and colonial oppression.

30 Penders, The West New Guinea Debacle, 146.

26 27

Scott | 55 and Markus Kaisiepo—spent their formative years in Dutch schools while their rise to prominence happened largely under Dutch patrons.31 However, Dutch colonialist interests were far from determinate; West Papuan nationalism during the lead-up to the 1960s was heterogeneous, with some supporting self-governance under Indonesia.32 Yet, the Dutch nevertheless worked to give space to those who shared their ideas and limited those who didn’t. For instance, a set of pro-Indonesian nationalists who formed the Independent Indonesian Party were discovered by the Dutch and thrown in jail in 1958.33 In these ways, Dutch interests shaped West Papuan nationalism. The Dutch provided the spaces in which West Papuan nationalists began to develop their ideas.

More crucially, they also sought to shape how West Papuan nationalism would develop, seeking to “immunise the indigenous population as much as possible against … the radical-revolutionary ethos ruling the Indonesian political scene”.34 Indonesian Incorporation and Nationalist Resistance, 1960While Indonesian political elite had expressed little interest in West Papua prior to their official independence in 1949, the growing revolutionary nature of the Indonesian leadership under Sukarno made West Papua—then referred to as West Irian—increasingly central for Indonesian nationalists. In a speech to the US Congress in 1956, Sukarno expressed indignance at the continued “colonial cancer” in West Irian. He insisted that West Irian was “an essential part of Indonesia” and that West Papuans were “true brothers” to the Indonesians.35 This indignance quickly led to Indonesian overreach. The supposed “Act of Free Choice”

31

Webster, “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962,” 513.

32 Webster, 511.

33 Robin Osborne, Indonesia’s Secret War: The Guerilla Struggle in Irian Jaya (Allen & Unwin, 1985), 17.

34 Penders, The West New Guinea Debacle, 98.

35 Special to The New York Times, “Text of President Sukarno’s Address Before Congress on the Aims of Indonesia,” The New York Times, May 18, 1956, sec. Archives, https://www.nytimes. com/1956/05/18/archives/text-of-president-sukarnos-addressbefore-congress-on-the-aims-of.html.

promised during the Dutch transfer of power came in 1969. Instead of ‘Free Choice’, the UN-mandated vote of self-determination consisted of the Indonesian regime handpicking 1025 individuals from across West Papua and coercing their unanimous support for incorporation.36 Through this period, growing West Papuan nationalism was driven by Indonesian exclusion and the agency of nationalist actors. I discuss this in two parts that address Indonesian exclusion and the role of West Papuan nationalists, respectively.

Indonesian Exclusion Indonesian control over West Papua has led to what has been termed by different scholars as a “cold genocide,” a “slow-motion genocide,” and a “cultural genocide”.37As Benedict Anderson puts it, to Jakarta, “Irian mattered, not the people who lived there”.38 During the post-1960 period, Indonesian state abuse of the West Papuan population was of three types: (1) cultural erasure via Indonesianization, (2) socioeconomic exclusion, and (3) abuse by the Indonesian military.

By shaping how the West Papuan population interacted with the Indonesian state, these above forms of state-perpetrated abuse provoked separatist sentiments within West Papua and drove support for West Papuan nationalism throughout the latter half of the 20th century.

Despite Indonesian president Sukarno’s insistence that “West Irian is part of [Indonesia’s] body”39, the central

36

Saltford, The United Nations and the Indonesian Takeover of West Papua, 1962-1969.

37 Kjell Anderson, “Colonialism and Cold Genocide: The Case of West Papua,” Genocide Studies and Prevention: An International Journal 9, no. 2 (October 1, 2015), https://doi.org/<p>http:// dx.doi.org/10.5038/1911-9933.9.2.1270</p>; Jim Elmslie and Camellia Webb-Gannon, “A Slow-Motion Genocide: Indonesian Rule in West Papua,” Faculty of Social Sciences - Papers (Archive), January 1, 2013, 142–66; John Otto Ondawame, “West Papua: The Discourse of Cultural Genocide and Conflict Resolution,” in Cultural Genocide and Asian State Peripheries, ed. Barry Sautman (New York: Palgrave Macmillan US, 2006), 103–38, https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230601192_4.

38 Benedict R. O’G. Anderson, “Indonesian Nationalism Today and in the Future,” Indonesia, no. 67 (1999): 5, https://doi. org/10.2307/3351374.

39

David Webster, “‘Already Sovereign as a People’: A Foundational Moment in West Papuan Nationalism,” Pacific Affairs 74, no. 4 (2001): 507–28, https://doi.org/10.2307/3557804.

Scott | 56 government pursued policy that sought to subsume the West Papuan within an Indonesian identity. They did this through ‘Indonesianization,’ which referred to a set of policies that proffered that assimilation would “strengthen the unity of the nation”.40 This process was highly paternalistic; Indonesian Foreign Minister Subriando insisted that policy was designed to “get [the Papuans] down from the trees, even if we have to pull them down”.41 Throughout the latter half of the 20th century, ‘Indonesianization’ consisted of efforts like ‘Operasi Koteka,’ a programme implemented in 1971 designed to force highland villagers to stop using traditional penis gourds (referred to as Koteka) and instead wear clothes.42. This was also supported by ‘Transmigrasi,’ a program that promoted Javanese migration to peripheral islands, with West Papua being a prime target.43 Through transmigration, the central government hoped that “the different ethnic groups would, in the long run, disappear because of integration … and there will be one kind of man”.44 Estimates from 1990 put the number of transmigrants in West Papua at 414,210, accounting for nearly a quarter of the population. In urban regencies, this percentage rose to upwards of 60%.45 Transmigration and cultural erasure were coupled with economic exploitation as “government strategy was designed to maximize national development through exploiting the rich natural resources of the outer islands and plentiful supply of labour in Java.46 The discovery of gold and copper deposits in 1967 led to the development of the largest gold and copper mine in the world, contracted out to the American corporation

40

Dale Gietzelt, “The Indonesianization of West Papua,” Oceania 59, no. 3 (1989): 202, https://doi.org/10.1002/j.1834-4461.1989. tb02322.x.

41 Webster, “Already Sovereign as a People,” 516.

42 Gietzelt, “The Indonesianization of West Papua,” 205.

Freeport-McMoRan Mining.47 This was complemented by significant plans for investment in infrastructure, all designed to facilitate “modernization” and economic growth. However, over periods of growing economic development in Indonesia, few efforts were made to bring returns to West Papuans on the ground. Instead, transmigration and economic development have been to the detriment of the locals. While the contract with Freeport-McMoRan brought millions of US dollars into Indonesian coffers annually, West Papuans received little from this. Instead, it is reported that up to 700,000 hectares of land were appropriated from local Papuans to accommodate both large mining corporations and newly arriving migrants.48 As two-time Papuan Governor Bas Suebu aptly puts it, “The people in the house called Irian Jaya feed those in other houses but are themselves starving”.49 Indonesia has leaned heavily on the national military, known as the Tentara Nasional Indonesia (TNI), to enforce local compliance to these projects. Some put estimates of the death toll due to military repression over the latter half of the 20th century as high as 500,000.50 While the complexity of the conflict in West Papua belies such cut and dry estimates, it is nevertheless clear that the military has (1) been prominent within West Papua since the Indonesian takeover and (2) played a role in repeatedly violently repressing resistance to Indonesian rule. In 1977, when a group of 15,000 tribal group members rose in opposition to Indonesian presence in the region, TNI forces napalmed the entire villages of protesting groups. The Indonesian state used tactics to suppress revolt in response to the presence of mining companies. Later, after a group of West Papuans damaged a Freeport-McMoRan pipeline, the TNI strafed entire villages in the region in retaliation.51 This aggression has repeatedly forced refugee flows into adjacent Papua New Guinea, with 11,000 leaving following one particular crackdown in the mid-1980s, for instance.52

43

Jacques Bertrand, Nationalism and Ethnic Conflict in Indonesia, Cambridge Asia-Pacific Studies (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 149, https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511559341.

Ondawame, “West Papua,” 158.

Elmslie, Irian Jaya under the Gun, 76.

44 45 46

Rodd McGibbon, “Plural Society in Peril : Migration, Economic Change, and the Papua Conflict,” 2004, 15, http://scholarspace.manoa.

hawaii.edu/handle/10125/3512.

McGibbon, 16.

Gietzelt, “The Indonesianization of West Papua,” 207.

49 Webster, “Already Sovereign as a People,” 523.

50 Elmslie and Webb-Gannon, “A Slow-Motion Genocide.”

51 Bertrand, Nationalism and Ethnic Conflict in Indonesia, 149.

52 Ian Bell, Herb Feith, and Ron Hatley, “The West Papuan 47 48

Scott | 57 High levels of repression, economic exclusion, and efforts at cultural erasure have driven West Papuan nationalism. As Gietzelt (1989, 208) argues, “Resentment against the Indonesians is exacerbated by the Papuan belief that Jakarta is ‘siphoning off the wealth of West Papua, in return for the mere fraction it injects back into local development”.53 These grievances stretch even to some of the more remote corners of West Papua. Chauvel discusses the case of the Korowai people who have had relatively low levels of contact with the Indonesian state.54 Even without this interaction, notions of Papuan identity and anti-Indonesian sentiments have filtered downwards to the group. Acculturated through trips to nearby villages and bigger cities, some have even become professed Papuan nationalists.

Resistance has crystallized in separatist uprisings united under the OPM (Free Papua Movement), each working in support of the Papuan identity. As one OPM member is quoted as saying, “Other people have no right … to come and take over this land, while the native is forced out from our own land and chased into the jungle. This is my own nation and my own land. I will die.”55 The first act of rebellion came in response to efforts to restrict West Papuan access to governance.

In 1965, after Indonesia announced their intentions to cancel the UN-mandated vote of self-determination, a rebellion set off in Arfak, which declared a free Papuan state centred in Manokwari.56 The Arfak revolt is largely seen as the formative moment for the OPM. Since then, revolt by the OPM has mostly been dispersed in nature. As many point out, the OPM does not coordinate collectively across West Papua. Rather, as one journalist recalls a pastor telling him, “we are

Challenge to Indonesian Authority in Irian Jaya: Old Problems, New Possiblities,” Asian Survey 26, no. 5 (1986): 540, https://doi. org/10.2307/2644481.

53 Gietzelt, “The Indonesianization of West Papua,” 208.

54 Richard Chauvel, “Constructing Papuan Nationalism: History, Ethnicity, and Adaptation,” Policy Studies (Washington DC: EastWest Center, February 16, 2005), 59, https://www.eastwestcenter. org/publications/constructing-papuan-nationalism-history-ethnicity-and-adaptation.

55 Webster, “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962,” 522.

56 Webster, “Already Sovereign as a People,” 517.

all OPM”.57 In this sense, the fledgling armed separatist group was not centrally-organized but instead a dispersed concept that West Papuans of all stripes would use to denote anti-Indonesian grievances and desires for independence. Further, as Gietzelt notes, “It appears that an upsurge in active membership in the OPM follows the intensification of Indonesian military oppression.”58 It was, for instance, the public murder and rape of a pair of women in one village, followed by the massacre of 500 Papuans in a separate district in 1970, that convinced many that the Indonesians had little intention of showing goodwill in governance in West Papua. Heinous acts like this drove, at the least, sympathy for the OPM, and in many cases, membership within the group.59 Overall, there is a clear link between the Indonesian exclusion of the West Papuan and the local support for West Papuan nationalism. As the Indonesians time and again proved their disinterest in respecting West Papuans, opposition and West Papuan nationalist tendencies grew.

West Papuan Nationalists While exclusion via assimilation, militarization, and economic exploitation might have driven Papuan nationalist support, the ways in which West Papuan nationalists have sought to frame the nationalist struggle have determined the construction of West Papuan nationalism. Through the 1960s, the Dutch continued supporting claims for independence while Indonesian overreach soured support for reincorporation. As King argues, “pro-Indonesian nationalism more or less died with Indonesia’s ‘locust’ occupation in 1963.”60 Through this period, West Papuan nationalists responded to Dutch support for independence by reshaping discourses of nationalism. In periods following, this nation-building process has functioned in tandem with the practical exclusion of West Papuans, framing abuse within discourses of race and human rights.

Throughout the 1960s, efforts to distinguish West Pap-

57

Osborne, Indonesia’s Secret War, 45.

Gietzelt, “The Indonesianization of West Papua,” 213.

59 Osborne, Indonesia’s Secret War, 51.

60 Peter King, “Morning Star Rising? Indonesia Raya and the New Papuan Nationalism,” Indonesia 73 (April 2002): 93, https://doi. org/10.2307/3351470.

58

Scott | 58 ua from Indonesia brought nationalist leaders to both emphasize racial differences between themselves and the Indonesians and place themselves within pan-national discourses of race. Simply put, this was an effort to drive home the point that “the Papuans are not Indonesians”.61 Yet more broadly, the goal of West Papuan nationalists was to demonstrate distinctive cultural and ethnic roots while placing themselves within a broader discourse of anti-colonialism. Under the Indonesians, the West Papuans were projected as a nation that needed to shake off the yoke of an oppressive and abusive colonial overlord. These nationalists sought connections with groups like the Organization of African Unity (OAU) and the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), seeking to include themselves in “a global anti-colonial quest based on skin colour”.62 Nicolaas Jouwe, one of the first Papuan nationalists to emerge under Dutch rule, was active in petitioning African nations for support for West Papua. In a letter to the Organization of African Unity, for instance, Jouwe wrote “Have you… ever thought of … the 1 million Papuan Negroes … who are engaged in a grim fight for their FREEDOM against their oppressors, the INDONESIANS?”.63 In this sense, Papuan nationalism was “constructed internationally”.64 As a result of its outward-facing nature, Papuan nationalism was built in the interstitial space between international discourses of race and rights. Consequently, the Papuan identity was presented as a distinct, cultural and racial group whose rights were under mortal threat from an assimilatory colonial power. It is through this framing which the years of abuse and exploitation that followed the ‘Act of Free Choice’ in 1969 were brought into the Papuan national narrative. Years later, one might find the same discursive undertones in the rhetoric of contemporary West

Papuan activists. In 2000, Benny Giay, a prominent present-day nationalist, stated that, “They are Indonesians and we are Papuans. We are murdered, enslaved, and colonized by Indonesians. In another ten years’ time Papuans will be finished, murdered by the Indonesian military. Because of that it is better that we just become independent”.65 On the ground, nationalists used a set of symbols to cohere West Papuan nationalism. While the years of abuse that followed through the latter half of the 20th century were scarring, West Papuans see the establishment of West Papuan sovereignty as happening on December 1st, 1961. On this date, nationalists announced their political manifesto for independence while raising the Morning Star flag in central Hollandia (now Jayapura).66 In 1971, following the derided ‘Act of Free Choice’ of 1969, OPM operative Seth Rumkorem declared West Papuan independence, stating, “Let it be known to the world that the sincere wish of the West Papuan people to be free and independent in their own country is hereby fulfilled”.67 In the sense that national independence includes gaining control over a set of governing institutions and recognition by other nations worldwide, neither of these events brought de facto independence to West Papua. These are nevertheless central in the West Papuan memory. In the face of Indonesian repression, the act of raising the Papuan flag and singing the national anthem, ‘Hai Tanaku Papua’ (O Papua, My Homeland) have become assertions of West Papuan identity. In 1988, intellectual Thomas Wanggai once more declared West Papuan independence, signalling the declaration with the singing of the Papuan national anthem.68 During the period of ‘Reformasi’ and political opening following the fall of Suharto’s New Order regime, the most symbolically loaded moments came when West Papuan protestors gathered en masse in the capital, demanding ‘Merdeka’ (freedom), and raising

61

Webster, “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962.”

62 Webster.

63 Emma Kluge, “West Papua and the International History of Decolonization, 1961-69,” The International History Review 0, no. 0 (December 2, 2019): 12, https://doi.org/10.1080/07075332.2 019.1694052.

64 Webster, “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962.”

Chauvel, “Constructing Papuan Nationalism,” 52.

Nino Viartasiwi, “The Politics of History in West Papua Indonesia Conflict,” Asian Journal of Political Science 26, no. 1 (January 2, 2018): 151, https://doi.org/10.1080/02185377.2018.14 45535.

67 Osborne, Indonesia’s Secret War, 152.

68 Webster, “Already Sovereign as a People,” 526.

65 66

Scott | 59 the Morning Star flag in the city centre.69 Correspondingly, it was then Indonesian President Abdhurrahmin Wahid’s legalization of the flying of the Morning Star flag which signalled the Indonesian government’s willingness to reform through this period.

While democratization opened space and eventually led to greater regional autonomy for West Papua in 2001, discontent and the sense that a West Papuan nation remains oppressed by a foreboding Indonesian monolith reigns supreme. The fight for independence, then, has continued onwards into the present day, with West Papuan nationalists continually working to reemphasize both the historical legitimacy of the West Papuan nation and the ongoing struggle of the West Papuan people. As Philpott argues, West Papuan activists today use social media to collapse the complexities of conflict and trauma in West Papua “into a simple narrative of a noble people struggling against a cold and brutal state”.70 Meanwhile, as Viartasiwi discusses, contemporary West Papuan writers have continued to uphold a West Papuan history that emphasizes many of the points made above.71 In the present day, the West Papuan nation is made real through discourses of race, struggle, and politics.

Conclusion In this paper, I have sought to demonstrate the constructive nature of discourse and practical exclusion in West Papua. By examining the roots of West Papuan identity, I emphasized the ways in which nationalism came as a result of the interplay between the exclusionary nature of the Indonesian state and the agency of actors who sought West Papuan independence.

In contrast to Tilly and the many others who have followed his analysis of nationalist construction, West Papuan nationalism has not simply been built on the clear, abhorrent, and wanton violence and abuse that the Indonesian state directed at the West Papuan

throughout the latter half of the 20th century. Rather, exclusion has been filtered through discourses of identity. West Papuan nationalism is, in part, rooted in the manners in which the beliefs of some Dutch colonialists and West Papuan nationalists of the present day and yesteryear have constructed discourses of nationalism.

Yet to make myself clear once more: discourse does not wholly explain the construction of nationalism (it is necessary but not sufficient, to be cliché). Instead, both violence and the continually poor development outcomes for West Papuans have produced a shared experience for West Papuan identity to build on. Regardless of whether nationalist discourse aggrandizes or hyperbolizes the violence experienced, efforts made by the central government to both physically and culturally erase the West Papuan during the heart of the New Order (1965-1998) clearly produced a deep-lying fear and resentment of the Indonesian state.

Today, the Papuan Lives Matter protests capture this dynamic perfectly. While the historical links between a West Papuan and a pan-African identity helped make Black Lives Matter protests resonant amongst West Papuans, such protests were also continuations of a more localized exasperation at enduring racism, exclusion, and military abuse directed at the West Papuan both within West Papua and throughout Indonesia. At the intersection of the international and the local, these protests are demonstrative of the multitude of ways that West Papuans have engaged with nationalism over their short history. In short, as I have argued, discourse and relational networks have worked together to drive national construction. In the West Papuan nation, the discursive has met with the practical.72

72

King, “Morning Star Rising?,” 91.

70 Simon Philpott, “This Stillness, This Lack of Incident: Making Conflict Visible in West Papua,” Critical Asian Studies 50, no. 2 (April 3, 2018): 266, https://doi.org/10.1080/14672715.2018.1445 537.

71 Viartasiwi, “The Politics of History in West Papua - Indonesia Conflict.”

69

I have something of a postscript comment to make here: Somewhat serendipitously, the day that I am due to turn in this essay (Dec. 1st, 2020) is the West Papuan national day. This year, a set of prominent West Papuan nationalists have declared a “provisional government-in-waiting” with a host of exiled nationalists taking up positions. See the link here: https://www.theguardian. com/world/2020/dec/01/west-papua-independence-leaders-declare-government-in-waiting

Scott | 60 Works Cited Anderson, Benedict R. O’G. 1998. The Spectre of Comparisons: Nationalism, Southeast Asia, and the World.

Verso.

———. 1999. “Indonesian Nationalism Today and in the Future.” Indonesia, no. 67: 1–11. https://doi. org/10.2307/3351374.

———. 2016. Imagined Communities : Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. London : Verso,.

Anderson, Kjell. 2015. “Colonialism and Cold Genocide: The Case of West Papua.” Genocide Studies and Prevention: An International Journal 9 (2). https://doi.org/<p>http://dx.doi.org/10.5038/1911-9933.9.2.1270</p>.

Bell, Ian, Herb Feith, and Ron Hatley. 1986. “The West Papuan Challenge to Indonesian Authority in Irian Jaya: Old Problems, New Possiblities.” Asian Survey 26 (5): 539–56. https://doi.org/10.2307/2644481.

Bertrand, Jacques. 2003. Nationalism and Ethnic Conflict in Indonesia. Cambridge Asia-Pacific Studies. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511559341.

Chauvel, Richard. 2005. “Constructing Papuan Nationalism: History, Ethnicity, and Adaptation.” Policy Studies 14. Washington DC: East-West Center. https://www.eastwestcenter.org/publications/constructing-papuan-nationalism-history-ethnicity-and-adaptation.

Elmslie, Jim. 2002. Irian Jaya under the Gun: Indonesian Economic Development versus West Papuan Nationalism. Adelaide: Crawford House Publishing.

Elmslie, Jim, and Camellia Webb-Gannon. 2013. “A Slow-Motion Genocide: Indonesian Rule in West Papua.”

Faculty of Social Sciences - Papers (Archive), January, 142–66.

Firdaus, Febriana. 2020. “Global Protests Throw Spotlight on Alleged Police Abuses in West Papua.” The Guardian, June 11, 2020, sec. Global development. http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2020/jun/11/ global-protests-throw-spotlight-on-alleged-police-abuses-in-west-papua.

Gietzelt, Dale. 1989. “The Indonesianization of West Papua.” Oceania 59 (3): 201–21. https://doi. org/10.1002/j.1834-4461.1989.tb02322.x.

Henderson, William. 1973. West New Guinea; the Dispute and Its Settlement. South Orange, N.J.: Seton Hall University Press. https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/001155492.

Kamma, Freerk Ch. 2013. Koreri Messianic Movements in the Biak-Numfor Culture Area: Koninklijk Instituut Voor Taal-, Land-, En Volkenkunde Translation Series 15. Springer Science & Business Media.

King, Peter. 2002. “Morning Star Rising? Indonesia Raya and the New Papuan Nationalism.” Indonesia 73 (April): 89. https://doi.org/10.2307/3351470.

Kluge, Emma. 2019. “West Papua and the International History of Decolonization, 1961-69.” The International History Review 0 (0): 1–18. https://doi.org/10.1080/07075332.2019.1694052.

Marx, Anthony W. 1997. Making Race and Nation: A Comparison of South Africa, the United States, and Brazil.

Scott | 61 Cambridge Studies in Comparative Politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/ CBO9780511810480.

McGibbon, Rodd. 2004. “Plural Society in Peril : Migration, Economic Change, and the Papua Conflict.” http:// scholarspace.manoa.hawaii.edu/handle/10125/3512.

Mote, Octovianus, and Danilyn Rutherford. 2001. “From Irian Java to Papua: The Limits of Primordialism in Indonesia’s Troubled East.” Indonesia, no. 72: 115–40. https://doi.org/10.2307/3351483.

Ondawame, John Otto. 2006. “West Papua: The Discourse of Cultural Genocide and Conflict Resolution.” In Cultural Genocide and Asian State Peripheries, edited by Barry Sautman, 103–38. New York: Palgrave Macmillan US. https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230601192_4.

Osborne, Robin. 1985. Indonesia’s Secret War: The Guerilla Struggle in Irian Jaya. Allen & Unwin.

Penders, C. L. M. 2002. The West New Guinea Debacle: Dutch Decolonisation and Indonesia, 1945-1962. Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press. https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/007247893.

Philpott, Simon. 2018. “This Stillness, This Lack of Incident: Making Conflict Visible in West Papua.” Critical Asian Studies 50 (2): 259–77. https://doi.org/10.1080/14672715.2018.1445537.

Saltford, John. 2003. The United Nations and the Indonesian Takeover of West Papua, 1962-1969 : The Anatomy of Betrayal. Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203221877.

Scott, James C. 1990. Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. New Haven, UNITED STATES: Yale University Press. http://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/mcgill/detail.action?docID=3420907.

The Jakarta Post. 2019. “Riots Flare in Manokwari after ‘racist’ Attack on Papuan Students in Surabaya.” The Jakarta Post. August 19, 2019. https://www.thejakartapost.com/news/2019/08/19/riots-flare-in-manokwari-afterracist-attack-on-papuan-students-in-surabaya.html.

Tilly, Charles. 1998. Durable Inequality. Fulcrum.Org. University of California Press.

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Trajano, Julius Cesar I. 2010. “Ethnic Nationalism and Separatism in West Papua, Indonesia.” Journal of Peace, Conflict and Development 16: 12–35.

Viartasiwi, Nino. 2018. “The Politics of History in West Papua - Indonesia Conflict.” Asian Journal of Political Science 26 (1): 141–59. https://doi.org/10.1080/02185377.2018.1445535.

Webster, David. 2001. “‘Already Sovereign as a People’: A Foundational Moment in West Papuan Nationalism.”

Pacific Affairs 74 (4): 507–28. https://doi.org/10.2307/3557804.

———. 2012. “Race, Identity, and Diplomacy in the Papua Decolonization Struggle, 1949-1962.” In Race, Ethnicity, and the Cold War: A Global Perspective, by Philip Emil Muehlenbeck. Vanderbilt University Press.

Scott | 62

Yaung, Meitilda. 2020. “Papuan Lives Matter: What Now? An Open Letter.” The Jakarta Post, June 16, 2020. https://www.thejakartapost.com/academia/2020/06/16/papuan-lives-matter-what-now-an-open-letter.html.

Sedzro | 64 Abstract Indigenous women’s multilayered identities place them at a unique location in terms of structural oppression as their individual and collective rights are scarcely ever acknowledged as a unit. This study will seek to demonstrate the transformative power of Indigenous women’s rights movement has tremendous potential because of Indigenous women’s standpoint allows for two human rights narratives. In a first section, the paper analyzes the ways in which indigenous women’s identity highlights oppressive mechanisms in both Indigenous communities and the settler state in its fight for indigenous self-determination. Indigenous women’s movements concurrently fight for self-determination and for feminism in an effort to reconcile both movements which have been accused of being divisive. Indigenous feminism replaces Indigenous women at the heart of the nation and amplifies the fight for self-determination.

Additionally, indigenous women’s movements challenge the core of neoliberal feminism by advocating for both collective and individual rights as a whole as the gender oppression they experience is indissociable from structural systems of inequality such as racism, colonialism and capitalism. Indigenous women’s movement and their platforms challenge feminism, indigenous communities and the settler state at once. Their positionality allows them to expose multiple mechanisms of oppression which plays into the transformative and organizational power of these movements.

Résumé Les identités multiples des femmes autochtones les placent dans une situation unique en termes d’oppression structurelle, car leurs droits individuels et collectifs sont rarement reconnus en tant qu’unité.

Cette étude cherchera à démontrer le pouvoir de transformation du mouvement des droits des femmes autochtones a un potentiel énorme parce que le point de vue des femmes autochtones permet deux récits des droits de l’homme. Dans une première partie, l’ouvrage analyse la façon dont l’identité des femmes autochtones met en évidence les mécanismes d’oppression tant dans les communautés autochtones que dans l’État colonisateur dans sa lutte pour l’autodétermination des peuples autochtones.

Les mouvements de femmes autochtones luttent simultanément pour l’autodétermination et pour le féminisme dans un effort pour réconcilier les deux mouvements qui ont été accusés de semer la discorde. Le féminisme autochtone replace les femmes autochtones au cœur de la nation et amplifie la lutte pour l’autodétermination. En outre, les mouvements de femmes autochtones remettent en question le cœur du féminisme néolibéral en défendant les droits collectifs et individuels dans leur ensemble, car l’oppression sexiste qu’elles subissent est indissociable des systèmes structurels d’inégalité tels que le racisme, le colonialisme et le capitalisme. Le mouvement des femmes autochtones et leurs plateformes défient à la fois le féminisme, les peuples autochtones et l’État colonisateur. Leur position leur permet d’exposer de multiples mécanismes d’oppression qui jouent dans le pouvoir de transformation et d’organisation de ces mouvements.

Sedzro | 65 Introduction Historically, Indigenous women have been major actors of Indigenous diplomatic processes1. However, colonization and neo-colonial practices have pushed them to the sidelines and rendered their voices and activism invisible by separating feminist theories from Indigenous agendas. These colonial practices disturbed the gendered hierarchies of Indigenous societies causing a shift from matriarchal/matrilineal societies to patriarchal and patrilineal societies. Additionally, colonialism destroyed Indigenous women’s autonomy which engendered the subsequent devaluation and invisibilization of Indigenous women’s contributions to the public and private life of communities as well as Indigenous women’s contributions to the self-determination movement and resistance. The imposition of colonial patriarchal norms in Canada has concealed the gendered mechanisms of oppression imposed on Indigenous communities, condemning women to gendered violence from the state and from their nations creating a cultural hegemony in terms of gender norms2. This places Indigenous women at a unique and contentious location in regards to their identity since they are fighting for Indigenous self-determination at the communal, the national and international level as well as fighting against neoliberal feminism.

While Indigenous women are somewhat involved in international and national discussions on Indigenous sovereignty and feminism, their concerns are often dismissed on behalf of Indigenous men and white women.

Their collective and individual rights are not acknowledged as a unit but rather as contradictory and conflicting3. However, Indigenous women’s activism has a tremendous transformative potential because these women’s unique multilayered identity sheds light on and challenges multiple oppressive mechanisms put in

1

Smith, Andrea. “Unsettling America.” Indigenous feminism without apology. 8 September 2011. http://www.oregoncampuscompact.org/uploads/1/3/0/4/13042698/indigenous_feminism_ without_apology__andrea_smith_.pdf (accès le April 20, 2020) 2 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:46.

3 Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:81

place by the settler state, including settler-colonialism itself and the patriarchy. Neoliberal feminism upholds the colonial oppression of Indigneous women leading their activism, founded in the reconciliation of collective and individual rights to challenge both neoliberal feminism as part of an anti-settler colonial activism.

This paper will argue that through the reconciliation of their collective and individual rights, Indigenous women and their activism have a transformative capacity to bring forward the development of and significant achievements for Indigenous self-determination movements and women’s rights movements. Indigenous women’s activism challenges both the neoliberal feminism regime and the settler state, powerfully disturbing the colonial and patriarchal power hierarchies established by the settler-colonial state of Canada and practiced in their communities. This thesis is explored in the two following sections, with the first section dedicated to the ways Indigenous women’s identity sheds light on structural inequalities and aids the Indigenous self-determination movement rather than harms it. The second section will dive into the way in which Indigenous women’s activism actively challenges the unquestioned conventionality of neoliberal feminism.

Heart of the Indigenous self-determination movement Indigenous women’s activism is an interconnected mix between feminism and the Indigenous de-colonial struggle, representing the multilayered identity of Indigenous women4. The experience of Indigenous women is therefore distinct from Indigenous men who experience other forms of structural violence due to their gender. Indigenous women often find themselves stuck between two different human rights narratives that do not take the intersection of their identity into consideration, with mainstream social movements often separating their identity into “women” and “Indigenous People”and asking for trade-offs5. Therefore, Indigenous feminism responds to this mainstream narrative by challenging the colonial state and their own communities by creating a space of participation where

4

John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:51.

5 Ibid

Sedzro | 66 the dual identity of Indigenous peoples and women is valued6.

Unveiling of the Oppressive Mechanisms Present in Indigenous Communities Indigenous feminists are often accused by male members of their Indigenous communities of being more focused on their individual rights, therefore, betraying the movement for their collective right to self-determination7. This prioritization of individual rights of women over the collective rights of Indigenous Peoples is considered by some Indigenous men to undermine the whole struggle for self-determination as it is considered a threat to the security of the nation if they appeal to outside sources, possibly undermining the authority of nations8. Indigenous women’s activism is therefore also defined by the fight of the patriarchal system within their own communities. Activist, Ellen Gabriel argues that although Indigenous women had a prominent role to play in their post-colonial societies as clan mothers for instance, the way in which the colonial government has interacted with Indigenous peoples has created a “subconscious colonized mentality of Aboriginal peoples” that allows and perpetuate gender discrimination9. For instance, the Indian act, deprive Indigneous women who married settlers from their status and identity as ‘Indians’10. Gabriel further explains that Indigenous women and children have the highest rates of violence, sexual abuse and suicide amongst Indigenous communities and that “in order to stop this cycle, Aboriginal people need to understand the history of colonization and how it impacted our societies”11. The Canadian state’s history of oppression

Ibid Sunseri, Lina. “Moving Beyond the Feminism Versus Nationalism Dichotomy: An Anti-Colonial Feminism Perspective on Aboriginal Liberation Struggles.” Canadian Women’s studies, 2000:146 8 Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:69.

9 Gabriel, Ellen. “Aboriginal Women’s Movement; A Quest for Self-Determination.” Aboriginal Policy Studies, 2011:185 10 Ibid 11 Ibid 6 7

against Indigenous People is inherently tied to the gendered oppression of Indigenous women.

Colonization allowed the settler state to gain authority over Indigenous lands but it also permitted control over their gender and sexuality norms as well as their subjectivity and knowledge. Ultimately, it allowed the state to obscure the way in which Indigenous peoples were oppressed by hiding behind a now hegemonic vision of gender norms, nationhood and citizenship12.

Colonialism altered the very core of Indigenous society, how they perceive nationhood and its membership13. Indeed, male dominated Indigenous organizations fighting for self-determination often reproduce a masculinist discourse derived from and in reaction to a European colonial discourse14. Professor Jo-Anne Fiske contends that Indigenous men assert Indigenous community membership based on legal categories created by a masculinist colonial state which only derive from male experience and male privilege15. Fiske argues that this creates fraternity, “into which women may be received but into which men are born”16.

In order to shed light on and fight this colonial sexual order often upheld by Indigenous men, Indigenous women activists and leaders highlight the presence of women throughout the history of Indigenous peoples and their contributions to the creation of a nationhood today17. Indigenous women claim that “the Womb is to the nation, what the heart is to the body,” placing motherhood and the spiritual role of Indigenous women at

12

John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:41 13 Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:79 14

Sunseri, Lina. “Moving Beyond the Feminism Versus Nationalism Dichotomy: An Anti-Colonial Feminism Perspective on Aboriginal Liberation Struggles.” Canadian Women’s studies, 2000:147

15

Sunseri, Lina. “Moving Beyond the Feminism Versus Nationalism Dichotomy: An Anti-Colonial Feminism Perspective on Aboriginal Liberation Struggles.” Canadian Women’s studies, 2000:147 16

Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:79 17 Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:66

Sedzro | 67 the core of their activism18. By arguing this, Indigenous women are contending that their rights as women are to be considered collective by nature because they are the core of Indigenous norms of nationhood if they are to reaffirm their ways of life (Sunseri 2000, 147).

As men are not alienated from their Indigenous identity because of their gender, they have no need to link themselves to the nation through the physical link of fatherhood to gain legitimacy, their vision of nationhood is not based on their control of their bodies19.

By asserting this type of masculinist discourse, Indigenous men are involuntarily engaging in collaborative behaviour with the settler state who originally put in place these restrictions on Indigenous citizenship in order to better control the population. In Canada, the Indian Act regulated Indigenous citizenship by depriving First Nations women and their children of their status if they married a non-native man and assigned them fewer fundamental rights than Indigenous men20.

With the Indian Act, the Canadian state fundamentally transformed Indigenous gender relations, forcing a shift from matriarchal and matrilineal societies to patriarchal and patrilineal societies21. These divisive lines between status and non-status Indigenous persons and between Indigenous men and women were not drawn

by Indigenous peoples but rather by the settler state22.

This discrimmination was contested by Indigenous women who wished to regain their status, however they were unsuccessful until Sandra Lovelace appealed to the Human Rights Commission in 1981 after having exhausted all other legal avenues in Canada23.

The Commission settled to amend the Indian Act in order to remove the offending sections and ensure sex-

ual equality for Indigneous women24. As human rights are a Western concept, this court ruling was perceived as an affront on Indigneous cultural integrity weakening the community in favour of the individual25. Thus, by arguing that women’s rights are in conflict with the collective rights to self-determination, Indigenous men demonstrate a colonized way of thinking about Indigenous peoples contrary to the traditional thinking invoked by Indigenous women which asserts that the individual is inside the collective and not the opposite26. Not acknowledging this gendered impact of colonization implies the perpetration of patriarchal colonial power over Indigenous peoples and more specifically Indigenous women. Through their fight for interconnected women’s rights and self-determination, Indigenous women draw attention to these patterns of oppression present in their communities which ultimately prevent a full emancipation from the Canadian settler state.

18

Ibid Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:81 20 Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:76 21 Ibid 22 Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:69 23 Ibid

24

19

25

Challenging the Settler State Indigenous women have been extremely active in the fight against the colonial state in Canada, interweaving Indigenous feminism with these efforts27. Anti-colonial movements led by Indigenous women, such as Idle No More, use an intersectional approach to gain a better understanding of the circumstances around continued colonial practices and oppressive mechanisms28. National liberation is at the heart of this activism, as well as environmental protection as land, an essential aspect of indigeneity as a marker of identity and source of creation and origin stories29. Idle No More was formed towards the end of 2012 to protest an omnibus bill

Ibid Ibid 26 Ibid 27 Smith, Andrea. “Unsettling America.” Indigenous feminism without apology. 8 September 2011. http://www.oregoncampuscompact.org/uploads/1/3/0/4/13042698/indigenous_feminism_without_apology__andrea_smith_.pdf (accès le April 20, 2020).

28 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:40.

29 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:41.

Sedzro | 68 C-45 passed in Parliament that allowed companies to access untapped resources by lifting regulations such as environmental protection and sovereignty rights of First Nations in certain areas30. In response, the Idle No More movement accused the Canadian Settler state of not respecting its commitment to the United Nations Declaration for the Rights of Indigenous Peoples and the Indian Act by not asking for the consent of the First Nations whose sovereignty right could be lifted by companies impacted by bill C-4531. Dr.Sonja John argued that the state was using this bill to continue its “colonial conquering expedition” by continuing the separation of Indigenous Peoples from their land (John 2015, 44). Moreover, Idle No More was able to create a link between Indigenous activism and non-Indigenous activism around the environmental issues surrounding Bill C-45 and struggles against the Canadian state, strengthening the movement’s power and allowing them to unveil the oppressive mechanisms at play with this bill like many other forms of policy32. Idle No More also continues to fight for the diffusion of information on issues impacting Indigenous communities, such as how different bills like bill C-45 impede on Indigenous Peoples right to self-determination, to constructively influence change in laws and empower Indigenous peoples over time33. Significantly, throughout all of these efforts, Idle No More highlights the double discrimination that Indigenous women face based on their indigeneity and their gender34. This movement seeks to expose the gendered effects of policies and laws like the Indian act on Indigenous women across Canada, including loss of status for women among others35. The Indian act stripped Indigenous women of their Indian status if they married a non-Indian man, without this status, Indigenous women lose their band membership as well as their right to live on reserves with their community on their land. Although the Idle No More movement argues that Indigenous Feminism’s main

task is to tackle the internalized oppression of women within their own communities, Idle No More does not view women as a separate entity in opposition to men but rather as part of a collective to fight for better conditions for everybody36. Sonja John argues with the words of Audre Lorde that Idle No More “makes the personal political” by channelling the rage of oppressed Indigenous women to have a legal impact on racist and sexist laws37. Movements and organizations like Idle No More illustrate the impact that Indigenous women have on shaping and fighting for the self-determination of Indigenous peoples in Canada.

Indigenous women’s unique standpoint on oppression mechanisms from the Canadian state and their own communities allows their activism to have leverage over the narratives presented by both the settler state and their communities. Ultimately, this helps them further the Indigenous self-determination movement by ensuring that first, they stay true to their traditions, while acknowledging that they are not static but evolve through time and second by ensuring that self-determination is negotiated on terms that benefits all Indigenous peoples, meaning that all forms of oppression are acknowledged. Indigenous women activists look to unite Indigenous men and unite in order to prevent the erosion of their rights38. Movements like Idle No More prove that Indigenous feminism as a political project and Indigenous struggles do not have to contradict each other but can work alongside as they have the same goals39. They argue for the decolonization of Indigenous ways of thinking to restore equal rights between Indigenous women and men, ultimately challenging the hegemonic patriarchal and settler-colonial norms in Indigenous and settler societies.

Challenging Neoliberal Feminism Indigenous feminism challenges the racist, colonial

36

Ibid Ibid 32 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015: 46.

33 Ibid 34 Ibid 35 Ibid 30 31

John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:47.

37 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:50.

38 Gabriel, Ellen. “Aboriginal Women’s Movement; A Quest for Self-Determination.” Aboriginal Policy Studies, 2011:187.

39 John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:51.

Sedzro | 69 and patriarchal regime imposed by the settler state, but they also have to face the hegemony of neoliberal mainstream feminism that centres white middle-class women and marginalizes women of colour. Although we can date multiple Indigenous feminist histories such as Indigenous women collectively resisting colonization in 1492, mainstream feminism presents no accounts of women’s rights activism prior to suffrage movements in privileged white societies40. This centering of white women’s activism as the pinnacle of feminism is based in neoliberal ideals which value the individual responsibility of women to fight oppression in an apolitical manner41. Neoliberal feminism is often criticized for failing to acknowledge the root causes of oppression, leading to the promotion of self-responsibility to improve women’s individual conditions regardless of the broader oppressive environment42. Additionally, neoliberal feminism strives towards being as apolitical as possible, separating the political from the personal. In regards to Indigenous women, neoliberal feminism does not have much relevance; by focusing on self-responsibility, neoliberal feminism refuses to acknowledge external influencing factors such as the oppressive settler-colonial and patriarchal mechanisms faced by Indigenous women. Thus they refuse to acknowledge power imbalances between peoples based on race, gender and status which points towards the need for a reassessment of feminism (Kazue Takamura, Neoliberalism and the Depolitization of Civil Society, INTD 354, 2020). Meetings in the international women’s human rights arena rarely acknowledge the collective rights of Indigenous women43. Instead, they perpetuate an essentialized and distorted image of Indigenous women’s experiences, depriving them of any agency, naturalizing their marginalization, and framing them as targets of development interventions

rather than active agents conscious of their situation and resisting44. By portraying them as a passive group and failing to acknowledge the complexities of their oppression, white feminists working in the human rights arena contribute to sustaining structural violence against Indigenous women in Canada and around the world.

Navigating the Mainstream Neoliberal Agenda Researchers Laura Parisi and Jeff Corntassel contend that Indigenous women’s role is to demonstrate a model of mutual interaction between their collective and individual rights, shattering neoliberal perceptions of human rights which obscure structural patterns of inequality45. In fact, This role was exhibited by the Indigenous women’s caucus at the 1995 Beijing Conference of the United Nations World Conference on women, the Indigenous women’s caucus of 110 Indigenous women from 26 countries drafted their own Declaration of Indigenous women. The Declaration was elaborated in response to the Beijing Platform for Action For its lack of consideration of Indigenous women’s concerns such as self-determination. Its prioritization of individual responsibility illustrates the need for the reconciliation of Indigneous women’s collective and individual rights46. Additionally, the declaration recognizes that violence and discrimination against Indigenous women takes a specific form, which is distinct from the violence experienced by Indigenous men and non-Indigenous women47. This declaration also used an intersectional framework to historically link the impact of globalization and neo-imperialism on global Indigenous communities. The purpose of this new declaration was to integrate Indigenous women’s rights

44

40

Smith, Andrea. “Unsettling America.” Indigenous feminism without apology. 8 September 2011. http://www.oregoncampuscompact.org/uploads/1/3/0/4/13042698/indigenous_feminism_without_apology__andrea_smith_.pdf (accès le April 20, 2020).

41 Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:87 42 Ibid 43 Ibid

Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:88 45 Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:87 46 Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:87&89 47 Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:87

Sedzro | 70 within the framework of self-determination to maintain its integrity)48. In this sense, the declaration challenged the neoliberal and apolitical values promoted at the Beijing Conference by reconciling individual and collective rights and addressing the interlocking structures of inequality facing Indigenous women. In their description of themselves within the declaration, Indigenous women highlighted the many challenges they face, and the spiritual and ethical dimensions of their with regards to their link to “maintaining their cultural integrity that it is in synch with nature”49.

From the perspective of their multilayered identity, Indigenous women have forcefully challenged the neoliberal feminist and development regime not only at the Beijing conference, but also in other international settings. By critiquing the trade offs that Indigenous women always have to make in regards to their identity, by arguing that structural gender inequality lived

by Indigenous women is inextricably linked to other structural systems of inequality such as racism, colonialism and capitalism. Not only, do they provide the international human rights field with a unique point of view of oppressive mechanisms at play in their lives and how to take action on them with an intersectional framework. Indigenous women also participate in breaking down oppressive forces by challenging the neoliberal subjectivity of international institutions ultimately working to enlarge their potential of action.

Conclusion This paper displayed that Indigenous women’s activism has an enormous transformative potential in regards to the Indigenous self-determination movement and to the betterment of women’s rights, as Indigenous women’s activism creates a place of participation for Indigenous women, uplifting those at the most violent and discriminatory intersections of oppression. In addition to discursive contributions of Indigenous feminist movements, Indigenous women activists prove to have a powerful organizational strength as they are able to make the personal political, using their personal, lived

48

Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:88 49 Ibid

experiences of oppression as legal weapons against the settler state. Moreover, they are able to build bridges between their causes and non-Indigenous struggles while keeping the self-determination effort at the heart of their movement. As the Idle No More movement demonstrated, Indigenous women’s activism is used to bring to light the struggles of Indigenous Peoples for self-determination. Additionally, Indigenous women’s activism tackles issues of gender discrimination within their own communities to ensure self-determination is done on terms that are fair to every Indigenous person.

Lastly, at the international level, Indigenous women present a direct challenge to the neoliberal regime of development which obscure structural causes of underdevelopment and discrimination by advocating for women’s self responsibility. Admittedly, cases such as Idle No More and the Indigenous Women’s Caucus at the Beijing Conference as well as the innate values of Indigenous feminism demonstrate the transformative power of Indigenous women’s activism as it possesses all the necessary tools to hold leverage over their oppressors; the many identities of Indigenous women and the standpoint it offers, set a path towards structural transformation.

Sedzro | 71 Bibliography Fiske, Jo-anne. “The Womb is to the Nation as the Heart is to the Body: Ethnopolitical Discourses of the Canadian Indigenous Women’s Movement.” Studies in Political Economy, 1996:65–95.

Gabriel, Ellen. “Aboriginal Women’s Movement; A Quest for Self-Determination.” Aboriginal Policy Studies, 2011:183–188.

John, Sonja. “Idle No More—Indigenous Activism and Feminism.” Theory in Action, October 2015:38–54.

Kuokkanen, Rauna. “Self-Determination and Indigenous Women’s rights at the Intersection of International Human Rights.” Human Rights Quartely, February 2012:225–250.

Marcos, Sylvia. “The Borders Within: The Indigenous Women’s Movement and Feminism in Mexico.” Dans Dialogue and Difference—Feminisms Challenge Globalization, de Marguerite Waller et Sylvia Marcos, 81-112.

New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2005.

Parisi, Laura, et Jeff Corntassel. “In pursuit of self-determination: Indigenous women’s challenges to traditional diplomatic spaces.” Canadian Foreign Policy Journal, 2007:81–98.

Smith, Andrea. “Unsettling America.” Indigenous feminism without apology. 8 September 2011. http://www. oregoncampuscompact.org/uploads/1/3/0/4/13042698/indigenous_feminism_without_apology__andrea_smith_. pdf (accès le April 20, 2020).

Sunseri, Lina. “Moving Beyond the Feminism Versus Nationalism Dichotomy: An Anti-Colonial Feminism Perspective on Aboriginal Liberation Struggles.” Canadian Women’s studies, 2000:143–148.

Benhocine | 73 Abstract The current civil war in Libya is characterized by high factionalization, loose alliances, and economic incentives brought about by the country’s vast hydrocarbon sources. Using the “rebellion as business” theoretical framework, this paper evaluates the plausibility of the formation of a unity government, a descent into further conflict, and the continuation of conflict over the coming three years. Despite recent progress, the analysis concludes that a regression to the status quo, meaning the maintenance of territorial divisions of power between the Libyan National Army (LNA) and the Government of National Accord (GNA), as well as unstable coalitions of armed factions is most plausible. Although foreign intervention is unlikely to foster future escalation like it once did, other factors inhibiting the resolution of the war remain, such as economic conditions favourable to armed factionalization. Mismanagement and corruption of available oil revenues maintain public service delivery failures, fueling insecurity via the shadow economy as militias profit from the control of black markets. In addition, the Fezzan’s peculiar security and economic needs have been treated exogenously, threatening long term stability.

Résumé La guerre civile actuelle en Libye est caractérisée par une forte factionnalisation, des alliances lâches et des incitations économiques provoquées par les vastes sources d’hydrocarbures du pays. En utilisant le cadre théorique de la “rébellion comme entreprise”, cet article évalue la plausibilité de la formation d’un gouvernement d’unité, d’une descente dans le conflit et de la poursuite du conflit au cours des trois prochaines années. Malgré les progrès récents, l’analyse conclut qu’une régression vers le statu quo, c’est-à-dire le maintien des divisions territoriales du pouvoir entre l’Armée nationale libyenne (ANL) et le Gouvernement d’accord national (GNA), ainsi que des coalitions instables de factions armées est la plus plausible. Bien qu’il soit peu probable qu’une intervention étrangère favorise une escalade future comme ce fut le cas autrefois, d’autres facteurs entravant la résolution de la guerre subsistent, tels que les conditions économiques favorables à la factionnalisation de l’armée. La mauvaise gestion et la corruption des revenus pétroliers entretiennent les défaillances de la prestation des services publics, alimentant l’insécurité par l’économie souterraine alors que les milices profitent du contrôle des marchés noirs. En outre, les besoins particuliers du Fezzan en matière de sécurité et d’économie ont été traités de manière exogène, menaçant ainsi la stabilité à long terme.

Benhocine | 74 Introduction In 2012, a transitional authority was tasked with piecing together the remnants of Libya’s weakened political system, newly released from 40 years of dictatorship. This effort ultimately failed, resulting in a renewed civil war in 2014 which inflamed the numerous factions already active in the power vacuum left by dictator Muammar Qaddafi’s fall in 2011. The conflict in Libya is set apart from the majority of scholarly frameworks on civil wars because of the equivocal nature of the participating actors.1 Indeed, the waters separating the “government” entity from the “rebel” entity are murky. On the surface, two main bodies appear in a tug of war for authority over the country. The Tripoli-based Government of National Accord (GNA), a provisional government endorsed by the United Nations has been boasted as the only legitimate authority in Libya since the 2015 signing of the Libyan Political Agreement.2 It is rivaled by the Libyan National Army (LNA) led by General Khalifa Haftar.

This paper explores the key drivers of the civil war and assesses the plausibility of three outcomes of the conflict over the coming three years: 1) the formation of a unity government, 2) a descent into further conflict, and 3) a backslide to the status quo. Status quo is understood in this context as the maintenance of territorial division of power between the LNA and GNA, as well as unstable coalitions of armed factions, which will be explored in the case of the Fezzan region. Despite the international community’s current optimism for progress, this paper supports that the Libyan conflict will likely backslide to a status quo over the next three years. This conclusion is informed by analysis of the ongoing struggle over the country’s oil wealth resources, the insecurity exacerbating factionalization in the Fezzan3, and the destabilizing effects of interna-

1

Mason, D., Weingarten et al. “Win, Lose, or Draw: Predicting the Outcome of Civil Wars,” Political Research Quarterly 52, no..2 (1999): 239-68.

2 The Libyan Political Agreement: Time for a Reset,” Crisis Group, November 4, 2016, https://www.crisisgroup.org/middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/libyan-political-agreement-time-reset 3 “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border,” Crisis Group, July 31, 2017, https://www.crisisgroup.org/mid-

tional intervention.

The Scramble for Oil Wealth Since 2014, the political and military divide in Libya has been deepened by the two rival administrations’ hydrocarbon-dependent economic institutions.4 Internally, General Haftar of the LNA gained negotiating ground with the GNA despite his lack of international legitimacy by monopolizing oil terminals and maintaining blockades.5 Externally, international actors such as the UAE and Russia have involved themselves to benefit from resource-related tensions.6 Academic studies of previous civil wars suggest that conflict length is likely to increase if the party in control of key natural resources fears it will lose its advantage over generated revenues.7 Although Libya’s physical oil and gas infrastructure is operated by Haftar and his backers in the Eastern Oil Crescent, the institutions in charge of sales and distribution –who, therefore, receive all the monetary gain– are located in the region of Tripoli where the GNA is headquartered.8 This lack of access to key institutions explains why the LNA cannot channel oil export revenues to strengthen its forces and continue to extend its influence over the country. In fact, gaining control of these revenue ports was one of the main motivations for the

dle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/179-how-libyas-fezzanbecame-europes-new-border

4

Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War,” Last modified May 18, 2020, https://africacenter.org/publication/ geostrategic-dimensions-libya-civil-war/#_edn13 5 Wilson, Nate. “Oil Blockades, Protests and Resignations: The Latest on Libya’s Conflict,” Last modified September 30, 2020, https://www.usip.org/publications/2020/09/oil-blockades-protests-and-resignations-latest-libyas-conflict 6 Megerisi, Tarek. “Libya’s Global Civil War,” Last modified June 26, 2019, https://ecfr.eu/publication/libyas_global_civil_war1/ 7 Ross, Michael L. “How Do Natural Resources Influence Civil Wars? Evidence from Thirteen Cases,” International Organization 58 (2004): 35-67, doi: 10.1017/S002081830458102X 8 al-Warfalli, Ayman. “Libya's PFG to start lifting oil terminals blockade over next three days,” Last modified July 22, 2016, https://www.reuters.com/article/us-libya-energy-portsidUSKCN1022N

Benhocine | 75 LNA-led attack on Tripoli in April 2019,9 despite the LNA framing the offensive as a security issue against militias and terrorist forces.10 Despite the unsuccessful attack, the LNA resumed oil production in September 2020 following a shutdown of the sector in January 2020.11 This shutdown had been motivated by debilitating power cuts and the ongoing stalemate with the GNA in Tripoli12 rather than any concession or confidence-building measure by Haftar. In light of these country-level dynamics, a contextual interpretation of the scholarship is needed to account for the territorial distinction between oil reserves and oil revenue ports.

Until the failure of the Tripoli offensive, the dominant theory of conflict length and natural resources applied to the extent that support from foreign actors like the UAE, Russia, and Saudi Arabia enabled conflict escalation by fulfilling the typical role of oil revenues to fund the LNA’s activities. In sum, these events have fostered the LNA and GNA’s defensiveness over and persistent fear of losing oil revenues With the largest proven oil reserves in the world,13 economic fragmentation has fuelled the accumulation of oil wealth since before the civil war, particularly helping to fund Qaddafi’s patronage network.14 In addition to 96% of government revenue depending on oil sales, 65% of GDP was generated by oil production

Ibid “Timeline: Haftar’s months-long offensive to seize Tripoli.” Al Jazeera. February 19, 2020. https://www.aljazeera.com/ news/2020/2/19/timeline-haftars-months-long-offensive-toseize-tripoli 11 Gupte, Eklavia. “Libya chaos to deepen if blockade continues: NOC's Sanalla,” Last modified January 27, 2020, https://www. spglobal.com/platts/en/market-insights/latest-news/oil/012720libya-chaos-to-deepen-if-blockade-continues-nocs-sanalla 12 Zaptia, Sami. “The Hafter-aligned PFG announces resumption of the export of stored oil and gas,” Last modified August 19, 2020, https://www.libyaherald.com/2020/08/19/the-hafteraligned-pfg-announces-resumption-of-the-export-of-stored-oiland-gas/ 13 “Libya Overview.” Energy Information Administration. November 19, 2015. https://www.eia.gov/international/analysis/ country/LBY 14 Kafala, Tarik. “ Gaddafi's quixotic and brutal rule.” Last modified October 20, 2011. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-12532929 9

10

activities during Qaddafi’s rule.15 This dependence on oil sales was reflected in Libya’s exports and shaped

by Libya’s proximity to European markets, with 85% of production exported to Europe in 2010.16 However, this activity was threatened by the LNA-aligned Petroleum Facilities Guard (PFG) militia blockades from 2013 to 2018, resulting in a drop of oil revenues from an annual $40 billion to $4.6 billion.17 Considering that the Libyan economy’s level of debt remained stable until 2013, this dent in state revenues, as well as mismanagement and corruption, resulted in public service delivery failures.18 Subsequently, the current GNA and former Libyan governments including the General National Congress failed to consolidate power. Low reliability of public services forced households to turn to the black market, strengthening the hold of local militias who controlled market access, further emboldening these groups to commit violence.19 As a result, internal displacement due to militia violence became an important source of insecurity for the Libyan population. In 2019 alone, at least 215,000 new displacements were registered by the International Displacement Monitoring Centre.20 This widespread insecurity rooted in decreased oil revenues has crucial implications for the duration of the conflict, indicating that the actor who succeeds in securing both oil facilities and oil revenues will have the upper hand either to gain back popular support or foster further instability to prolong the conflict.

Rival political and military forces mobilized popular discontent over state management of oil revenues to garner support for their party. This mobilization was

15

“After the Showdown in Libya’s Oil Crescent,” Crisis Group, August 9, 2019, https://www.crisisgroup.org/middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/189-after-showdown-libyas-oil-crescent 16 “World Leaders Seek to Coordinate Libya Crisis Response,” IHS Markit, February 25, 2011, https://ihsmarkit.com/country-industry-forecasting.html?id=1065929081 17 Crisis Group. (2018, August 9). After the Showdown in Libya’s Oil Crescent.

18 “National debt of Libya 2020.” Statista. May 12, 2020. https:// www.statista.com/statistics/531714/national-debt-of-libya/ 19 “Libya Events of 2018,” Human Rights Watch, https://www.hrw. org/world-report/2019/country-chapters/libya# 20 Ibid.

Benhocine | 76 primarily centred around petroleum facility security enforcement and allocation of the production revenues absorbed by the Central Bank of Libya (CBL).21 Since 2015, the UN-initiated Libyan Political Agreement (which formed the GNA) has only recognized the Tripoli branches of the National Oil Corporation and the CBL as the sole legitimate national economic entities.22 Despite this, the Eastern-based CBL branches still operate without regulatory enforcement.23 Consequently, insight into Libya’s opaque financial structure is limited to officials of rival branches of the CBL and military leaders.24 This poses an important challenge to the potential formation of a unity government because the opacity of these institutions distributing oil revenues is a key factor in the poor delivery of public services, resulting in the insecurity which continues to fuel insurgency. Furthermore, the strain imposed by the growth of the underground economy produces a weak economic base for long-term stability.25 The core economic issues of control over oil production and revenue management have given rise to a pervasive “shadow economy” in Libya.26 Due to inflation and the shortage of liquidity, the majority of Libyans have been pushed into coping strategies involving the black market.27 Informal payment mechanisms have increased, resulting in over half of the money in Lib-

21

Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.” 22 Ibid.

ya circulating within the informal sector as of 2017.28 This expanded use of the informal sector has facilitated arms proliferation across borders, migrant trafficking, and international crime networks.29 This suggests that the resolution of the Libyan conflict cannot solely depend on political and military negotiation tracks30 because the economic conditions that fostered an environment favourable to armed factionalization would still remain. The United Nations Support Mission to Libya (UNSMIL) has attempted to address these economic conditions by initiating an audit of the rival CBL branches.31 However, efforts like the audit are sparse, which means that unified and transparent financial institutions are not yet on the table, therefore, compromising the plausibility of a unity government. In light of this, transparency and oil revenue distribution will remain an obstacle to political progress.32 Blurred Lines: A Closer Look at the Fezzan Historically, the Southern Fezzan region has been excluded from the national political sphere due to its tribal dynamics that differ from an otherwise urban Libya.33 The pervasiveness of loosely-aligned militias and high factionalization in part stem from the power gap left by the highly centralized Qaddafi model of governance.34 This section presents a case study of the Fezzan through a security and economic lens to illustrate the overarching military factionalization dynamics in Libya. The Fezzan serves as a microcosm for militia activity in Libya where active militias are fuelled by illicit activities and emerge from the lack of strong

23

Abdulkader, Assad. “Libya's Central Bank governor urged to take measures against Russia-printed currency,” Last modified November 10, 2019, https://www.libyaobserver.ly/economy/libyas-central-bank-governor-urged-take-measures-against-russiaprinted-currency 24 Pack, Jason. “An International Financial Commission is Libya's Last Hope,” Last modified January, 2020, https://www.mei.edu/ sites/default/files/2020-01/An%20International%20Financial%20 Commission%20is%20Libya%E2%80%99s%20Last%20Hope_0. pdf 25 Ibid.

26 Zaptia, Sami. “Libya's Growing Shadow Economy Threatens More Destabilisation says report,” Last modified June 10, 2017, https://www.libyaherald.com/2017/06/10/libyas-growing-shadow-economy-is-an-increasing-destabilization-threat-report 27 Ibid.

Ibid.

Pack, Jason. “An International Financial Commission is Libya's Last Hope.”

30 Ibid.

31 Zaptia, Sami. “Libya's Growing Shadow Economy Threatens More Destabilisation says report.”

32 Pack, Jason. “An International Financial Commission is Libya's Last Hope.”

33 “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border,” Crisis Group.

34 Ahmida, Ali. “The Battle for Tripoli: the Latest Chapter in the Libyan Civil War,” Produced by Jadaliyya, August 23, 2019, Podcast, MP3 audio, 47:39. https://www.jadaliyya.com/Details/39923.

28 29

Benhocine | 77 municipal governance, porous borders, and constricted sources of economic growth.35 These factors threaten long-term stability prospects, especially if the South is treated as an afterthought. Since 2011, the general approach to security in the Fezzan has been to ensure short-term stability unadapted to the local context, rather than long-term peace and inclusion.36 This strategy has systematically neglected peace in the Fezzan, consequently undermining country-wide conflict resolution efforts.

Current efforts at stabilization in Libya have been focused on Northern centres (themselves divided between “East” and “West”) of urbanization and licit economic activities, largely excluding the South from the “East” and “West” binary discourse.37 The geographically remote and sparsely populated Southern region is composed of the Awlad Suleiman, Tuareg, Tebu, Ahali, and Gadhadfa tribes.38 As a legacy of the Qaddafi rule, 30% of the population in this region lives without legal status.39 This lack of legal status for many facilitated militia recruitment and illegal activity during the civil war, since fighters finally had access to a salary and a national ID, both of which were not accessible to them otherwise under Qaddafi, by working for military coalitions.40 Armed actors in these informal security arrangements have replaced national police and official

35

Zucconi, Paolo. “The Strategic Role of the Fezzan Region for European Security,” Last modified May 30, 2019, https://fpc.org. uk/the-strategic-role-of-the-fezzan-region-for-european-security 36 “Fezzan Representatives Adopt a Charter for Reconciliation,” United Nations Support Mission in Libya, April 23, 2017, https:// unsmil.unmissions.org/fezzan-representatives-adopt-charter-reconciliation 37 Wilson, Nate and Inga Kristina Trauthig. “Understanding Libya's South Eight Years After Qaddafi,” Last modified October 23, 2019, https://www.usip.org/publications/2019/10/understanding-libyas-south-eight-years-after-qaddafi 38 Ibid. Alawad Suleiman is the biggest, but smaller Tuareg and Tebu tribes are also very influential.

39 Ibid.

40 Wehrey, Frederic. “Insecurity and Governance Challenges in Southern Libya,” Last modified March 30, 2017, https://carnegieendowment.org/2017/03/30/insecurity-and-governance-challenges-in-southern-libya-pub-68451

security forces since 2011,41 gaining local legitimacy as protectors of municipal politicians.42 These militias, military coalitions, and other groups backing the LNA and GNA have often shifted their allegiance based on territorial wins or defeats. For instance, ethnic Tuareg and Tebu militias turned away from the LNA after its advance towards Tripoli failed, and helped the GNA gain back oil fields in the South West of the country.43 Additionally, these shifts are not always coherent along tribal lines, with fighters belonging to Tuareg and Tebu tribes splitting internally along military lines.44 Importantly, the lack of factional loyalty to either the LNA or GNA indicates that most of them do not have an ideological or ethnic vested interest in the LNA or GNA. Although military victory is valuable, preferential access to the Fezzan’s main oil field is more important for comparative political power due to gains in regional influence from oil revenues on the black market. This reflects in the milias’ activity, which has since been characterized by local recruitment in Sabha, Ubari, Ghat, and Murzuq,45 but with an impact extending beyond the Fezzan. The ripples of low-level violence maintaining illicit economic activity in the South have been felt at the national level. Between 2014 and 2020, violent events in these cities represented a mere 3% of the annual average of 1040 violent events by militia and armed groups in the country.46 However, militiamen recruited from these areas have gone on to fight in incendiary regions such as Zintan, Sirte, and al Jufra for various groups, not necessarily aligned with the GNA or LNA, suggesting that conflict outside of the Fezzan may be rooted in or fuelled by recruitment and other militia activities in this region.47 Addition-

Ibid.

Ibid.

43 Shifts in the Libyan Civil War,”Africa Center for Strategic Studies, June 16, 2020, https://africacenter.org/spotlight/shifts-libyacivil-war/ 44 Ibid.

45 Zucconi, P. (2019, May 30). The Strategic Role of the Fezzan Region for European Security.

46 “Curated Data,” ACLED Data. Accessed November 12, 2020. https://acleddata.com/curated-data-files/#:~:text=ACLED%20 is%20an%20event%2Dbased,files%20can%20be%20downloaded%20below.

47 Shifts in the Libyan Civil War,”Africa Center for Strategic Stud41 42

Benhocine | 78 ally, a number of Sudanese and Chadian fighters with unclear allegiances have benefited from the Southern porous borders to infiltrate militia ranks.48 Several law enforcement projects focused on building migrant detention centers funded by the EU have failed to materialize because the root problem of the illicit economy providing structure to migrant flows and smuggling was not addressed.49 Considering that almost 90% of the regional economy is based on black market trading of commodities and migrants,50 lucrative smuggling and trafficking will continue to weaken stabilization prospects until an equally profitable source of licit income and institutional capacity is established.51 There are two main types of smuggling; the first including fuel, food, and migrants, with a hub in Sabha.52 Rerouting oil from Sabha storage tanks to sell on the black market for a 98% profit margin instead of channelling this oil to the national distribution network is common practice.53 The second hub is in Ubari, through which arms and militant fighters easily transit due to nonexistent national border security.54 The International Crisis Group estimates that people smuggling generates $1 to $1.5 billion in annual revenue, with a truck driver able to make four times the salary of a policeman, and independent smugglers making up to twenty-five times that amount.55 With few startup resources required and a quick return on investment, there is no incentive to turn to legal routes.56 Global optimism is rising as the LNA and GNA agreed to negotiate in the Fall of 2020, but the loose nature of these actors’ alliances with armed groups means that

ies.

48 “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border,” Crisis Group.

49 Ibid.

50 “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border,” Crisis Group.

51 Zucconi, Paolo. “The Strategic Role of the Fezzan Region for European Security.”

52 Ibid.

53 Ibid.

54 Ibid.

55 “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border,” Crisis Group.

56 Ibid.

independently of political agreements, excluded populations will continue to have economic incentives to pursue destabilizing activities, such as smuggling. The entrenchment of the Tripoli stalemate and consequently observed ceasefire between the LNA and the GNA may quell Northern cities, but demilitarizing smuggling routes and rebuilding a legal economy in the Fezzan remains a significant challenge for long-term stability. Peace talks with local tribal leaders have no concrete impact if armed group leaders are not integrated into wider national security plans, nor if competition between nominally aligned groups continues.57 Redistributing oil revenues to the broader Libyan population may help to steer some people away from the informal sector, however, this will only serve a temporary purpose if access to public services such as medical facilities remains inaccessible.58 Think tanks such as Brookings and Democracy Reporting International have proposed policy solutions entailing the implementation of variants of federalism to “empower municipalities,”59 but de-centralization alone may not be sufficient to shield Libya from renewed monopolized power in the capital as in the Qaddafi era, especially if local governments and institutions are weak and corrupt.60 When the Cat’s Away, the Mice will Play Bridged by oil-related economic incentives, the third dynamic behind the Libyan civil war is set in motion by international actors, directly and indirectly fuelling the conflict.61 This section analyzes international actors’ incentives and extent of involvement, arguing that

Ibid.

Ibid.

59 “Empowered decentralization: A city-based strategy for rebuilding Libya,” Brookings, January 11, 2019, https:// www.brookings.edu/research/empowered-decentralization-a-city-based-strategy-for-rebuilding-libya/ 60 “Report: Decentralisation in Libya,” Democracy Reporting International, August, 2013, http://democracy-reporting.org/ wp-content/uploads/2016/03/dri-ly-rpt_en_decentralisation_in_ libya.pdf 61 Eaton, Tim. “Libya’s War Economy: Predation, Profiteering and State Weakness,” Last modified April, 2018, https://www. chathamhouse.org/sites/default/files/publications/research/201804-12-libyas-war-economy-eaton-final.pdf 57 58

Benhocine | 79 they have been a powerful force in conflict escalation.

This “geostrategic nightmare”, as described by Tarek Megerisi in The Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya’s Civil War,62 has its roots in the 2015 creation of UNbacked institutional bodies such as the advisory High Council of State that failed to form a consensus on political rule. Instead of providing resources and a forum to resolve the crisis, these bodies have been used by international powers to pursue their own economic and geopolitical interests, siding with the actor most likely to secure these positions for them.63 Egypt, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia have been the primary countries supporting the LNA since 2012, whose ostensible motivations have chiefly been ideological. Haftar’s territorial expansion coincided with the United States-created war on terror, as his anti-political Islam rhetoric garnered the support of states redlining political Islam movements.64 However, once Islamist militias were driven out of Eastern Libya, implicit motivations for involvement remained. In the case of Egypt, Haftar was close to Egyptian head of state Abdel Fatah el-Sisi’s militarism and Egypt’s repression of the Muslim Brotherhood.65 More importantly though, security concerns at the border and reliance on remittances from expatriate workers66 shaped Egypt’s siding with the LNA to bring back stability.

Overall, Egypt stood out as the actor least vested in past escalation of the conflict. Conversely, apprehension towards the Muslim Brotherhood overshadowed the UAE’s interest in Libyan hydrocarbon sources and hopes for reconstruction deals after the war.67 The

62

Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.” 63 Ibid.

64 Ibid.

65 Ibid.

66 In 2015, approximately 750 000 Egyptian workers in Libya were responsible for remittance transfers to their home country.

Ahmed, Nadia. “Why Egyptians are risking their lives to work in Libya,” Last modified February 20, 2015, https://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/feb/20/egyptians-risk-lives-work-libya 67 The UAE has recently taken strides to diversify its economy, and preferential access to African ports is part of the plan.

“The UAE is scrambling to control ports in Africa,” The Economist, July 19, 2018, https://www.economist.com/middle-east-and-africa/2018/07/19/the-uae-is-scrambling-to-con-

UAE’s interest in the conflict is greater than Egypt’s, due to the expected payout of long-term economic projects, and this is apparent in the support it has provided. Significant military aid to the LNA was supplied in the form of arms and drones, in addition to massive disinformation campaigns to promote Haftar’s public image.68 Though Haftar is no longer seen as a viable alternative to govern the country,69 UAE-backed campaigns provided him with the next best option: popular legitimacy as a negotiating counterpart to GNA leader Fayez el-Sarraj, giving the UAE an advantage in potential settlements.

Though considered a secondary external actor, another power who flooded the Libyan media landscape in favour of Haftar was Saudi Arabia.70 Saudi support for the LNA shifted from a covert approach by infiltrating Haftar’s security services through Salafist group Rabea al-Madkhali,71 to more overt support in the form of financial aid to propel the April 2019 assault on Tripoli.72 This included funding for the 300 to 2000 Russian mercenaries who participated in the assault.73 Saudi Arabia is arguably not economically motivated in their involvement with Libya, since Libya’s resource endowment competes with Saudi production. Instead,

trol-ports-in-africa 68 “Information Warfare in Libya: The Online Advance of Khalifa Haftar,” Centro Studi Internazionali, May, 2019, https:// cesi-italia.org/contents/Analisi/Information%20warfare%20 in%20Libya%20The%20online%20advance%20of%20Khalifa%20Haftar_1.pdf?fbclid=IwAR3dbzi-7hEjs8fJXNs0T4HDx22LXhMxQ6tZIoP3ezl28E17haIDjJHWQCc 69 Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.” 70 34% of Libya-related content originated from Saudi Arabia in 2019.

“Information Warfare in Libya: The Online Advance of Khalifa Haftar,” Centro Studi Internazionali.

71

Megerisi, Tarek. “Libya’s Global Civil War.” Alharathy, Safa. “Saudi Arabia agrees to fund warlord Khalifa Haftar’s war on Tripoli.” Last modified April 13, 2019, https:// www.libyaobserver.ly/inbrief/saudi-arabia-agrees-fund-warlordkhalifa-haftar%E2%80%99s-war-tripoli 73 Alharathy, Safa. “Le Monde: Saudi Arabia funds Russian mercenaries in Libya,” Last modified January 26, 2020, https:// www.libyaobserver.ly/news/le-monde-saudi-arabia-funds-russian-mercenaries-libya 72

Benhocine | 80 Saudi Arabia is generally understood by scholars to be grounded in making Libya a political ally in North Africa to prevent the rise of democracy in the region, which is perceived to be a threat to its authoritarian rule.74 Though less invested in the conflict than the UAE, Saudi Arabia had an interest in escalation because anything less than Haftar securing political control would indicate the failure of its political allyship goal. Therefore, Saudi Arabia may participate in lengthening the conflict if given adequate opportunity, and if this participation decreases the likelihood of an eventual transition to democracy.75 Russia has also played a key role in the escalation and duration of the conflict, making the European front appear disjointed at the UN. While most European powers have avoided this conflict,76 Russian involvement in Libya is primarily motivated by the desire to access to Europe’s southern border via Libyan ports, as well as access to oil resources.77 Russian support to Libya has come in the form of providing mercenary forces and military equipment, as well as circulating parallel currency to create instability within CBL branches.78 Russia additionally used its presence in Libya to advance relations with Egypt and the UAE to increase regional influence. Hence, the longer the conflict, the more opportunities Russia has to forge itself a seat in Mediterranean geopolitics.

Conversely, the GNA mainly relies on Turkish support.

Amidst international disengagement facing the GNA, Turkey was able to leverage an agreement in November 2019 granting it access to an exclusive economic zone connecting the two countries through maritime corridors.79 Considering that Turkey also has over $15

billion worth of frozen contracts with the previous Libyan administration,80 a settlement to the Libyan conflict where the GNA is victorious would translate as a sigh of relief for the Turkish economy.81 In addition, Turkey’s access to the Libyan market challenges UAE and Russian interests, upping the stakes for both sides of international interests. In this case as well, an array of military support from Turkey including air support, ground forces, equipment and training has been indispensable to the retreat of LNA forces from Tripoli.82 Though intervention by the international community in the Libyan conflict is economically motivated, the use of violence as a political tool and the zero-sum mindset of international actors has been facilitated by blatant disregard for UN-imposed sanctions since 2011 regarding military equipment and training.83 Given the lack of binding authority relating to foreign intervention, future conflict outcomes as they relate to international interference depends on whether participating actors got what they wanted out of the conflict’s progression as well as their level of involvement in the conflict.

The Case for Unity Government, Descent into Further Conflict, and the Status Quo Given the exploration this paper has undertaken of the roles of oil wealth, factionalization in the Fezzan, and international intervention in the Libyan conflict, this section will examine three potential future scenarios for the conflict in Libya, arguing that a backsliding to the status quo is the most plausible outcome in the near

80

Megerisi, Tarek. “Libya’s Global Civil War.” Ibid.

76 Siegle, Joseph. “Recommended US Response to Russian Activities in Africa,” Last modified May 9, 2019, https://africacenter. org/experts/joseph-siegle/recommended-us-response-to-russian-activities-in-africa/ 77 Ibid.

78 Abdulkader, Assad. “Libya's Central Bank governor urged to take measures against Russia-printed currency.”

74 75

79

Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.”

“Libyan Gov't to Exclude Turkish Companies from Contracts,” Hurriyet Daily News, February 23, 2015, https://www. hurriyetdailynews.com/libyan-govt-to-exclude-turkish-companies-from-contracts--78718 81 Sonmez, Mustafa. “Turkey’s business leaders keep quiet as economic crisis deepens,” Last modified November 5, 2020, https:// www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2020/11/turkey-bossesscared-speak-up-crisis-deepen-usd-turkish-lira.html 82 Ibid.

83 Lederer, Edith M. “ UN demands all countries enforce UN arms embargo on Libya,” Last modified September 15, 2020, https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/europe/undemands-all-countries-enforce-un-arms-embargo-on-libya/2020/09/15/54cfeafc-f7b5-11ea-85f7-5941188a98cd_story. html

Benhocine | 81 future.

The first scenario regards the formation of a unity government. The prolonged stalemate encountered by Haftar and his forces after the 2019 failed offensive on Tripoli provides evidence that the formation of a unity government is plausible. Despite having territorial control over a large portion of the country, it seems that the LNA has exhausted all possible avenues to make meaningful advances in terms of resources. If the GNA were to make an advance, the LNA could comfortably absorb it because of its military endowment,84 but progressing past the stalemate that has characterized the last few months by using military force is highly unlikely. Since the conflict is rooted in preferential access to resources and power rather than ideology, the peace deal signed on October 23, 2020 could succeed in reducing tension at the level of factionalization.85 Indeed, conditions of oil revenue redistribution and greater financial transparency constitute grounds on which most factions agree.86 These groups could potentially settle if they are faced with a united front by the UN - which would require Russia to change its position with respect to the LNA - especially since UNSMIL efforts have succeeded in building trust with the Libyan population.87 However, incentives relating to oil also threaten the establishment of a unity government since terms related to the oil sector were not included in the current ceasefire agreement. As Haftar has a monopoly on oil terminals but not on oil revenue centres, there may be an incentive for him to be less cooperative in peace talks if plans of resource allocation affects his oil field monopoly without adequate compensation. On the other hand, if oil wealth distribution is not addressed, meaningful progress to a unity government will not occur. After all, the nine previous failed peace talks either

84

Ibid.

“Fleshing Out the Libya Ceasefire Agreement,” Crisis Group, November 4, 2020, https://www.crisisgroup.org/middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/b80-fleshing-out-libyaceasefire-agreement 86 Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.” 87 “UN in Libya.” United Nations Support Mission in Libya, Accessed November 10, 2020, https://unsmil.unmissions.Oil Blockades, Protests and Resignationsorg/un-libya

focused on military avenues or on election prospects.88 Haftar’s track record shows that these failures were not independent events, and a falling out is still likely to occur if economic factors are not addressed. Despite the positive impacts of oil production resuming in September 2020, the pivotal points of national oil production security and unification of rival economic institutions remain unaddressed in conflict resolution efforts.

Furthermore, a needs-based approach to federalism in the new government could adapt to the tribal dynamics in the Fezzan, and facilitate access to services. More broadly, a unifying dynamic of decentralized elements can facilitate buy-in, as that system would move away from Libya’s highly centralized political history. The best case to exemplify the potential power of community buy-in is the community-level buy-in demonstrated in Northern Libya, which has helped to maintain the benefits of the current ceasefire. If this community buy-in is widely maintained, there may be more wiggle room for compromise between the LNA and GNA to occur. On one hand, grievances have not changed; on the other hand, the LNA is running out of options.

Unless international backers sustain Haftar financially, it will be difficult for the LNA to maintain its operations, making place for negotiations that could usher in a unity government. While the unity government outcome is plausible because of the entranchement of the stalemate and the existence of common ground to decrease factionaliation, such positive prospects are weak owing to the current political exclusion of the Southern region.

The second, and least plausible scenario, is that of a further descent into conflict, akin to that of Syria and Yemen.89 The likelihood of this scenario depends largely on escalation from foreign actors who are competing for economic and geopolitical advantage, using Libya as a proxy. The previous sections of this paper have demonstrated the significance of economic and territorial incentives in maintaining international ac-

85

88“

How many times has Haftar broken peace initiatives in Libya?.”

TRT World. June 15, 2020.https://www.trtworld.com/magazine/ how-many-times-has-haftar-broken-peace-initiatives-in-libya-37301 89 Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya's Civil War.”

Benhocine | 82 tors’ involvement in the conflict. Therefore, if these incentives show promise of being increased or maintained in value as the conflict continues, it is likely that international actors may maintain or increase their involvement in prolonging the conflict. Some sources even argue that Libya could be geopolitically split in half between Turkish and Russian control in the event that economic and territorial incentives are great enough.90 The plausibility of this outcome can be directly evaluated by assessing the actors’ current degree of involvement and whether their mandate justifying this involvement has been fulfilled. Egypt’s primary motivation for involvement was its concern over violence spillovers at the border. Seeing that the ceasefire has quelled tensions on that front, there is no reason for Egypt to be interested in escalation of the conflict. Saudi Arabia had bet on Haftar’s capturing of Tripoli, and the failure of this bet makes future gains from Haftar seem unlikely. Thus, Saudi Arabia has few incentives to forge a political alliance with the LNA. Additionally, given Saudi Arabia’s generally backseat role throughout most of the conflict, a belligerent offense is also unlikely unless the opportunity arises externally from another country, such as a Russian initiative. Though the UAE and Russia’s economic interests have not been secured, further escalation of conflict may not be conducive to a favourable position in settlement talks if the ceasefire continues to be successful. Since Haftar has a seat at the negotiation table with the GNA, these two countries are likely to have one too given their important support to secure that negotiating position.

Turkey is another actor whose economic interests cannot materialize at present, however, further destruction and warfare would not be helpful if it wants to recuperate its frozen assets and benefit from its maritime border agreement. Overall, a descent into further conflict is the least likely outcome: although foreign meddling continues to foster instability, incentives towards escalation are low.

Conversely, the argument for a backsliding to the status quo stands on caveats in the current ceasefire, spe-

90

Alaaldin, Ranj and Emadeddin Badi. “Libya’s proxy sponsors face a dilemma,” Last modified June 15, 2020, https://www. brookings.edu/blog/order-from-chaos/2020/06/15/libyas-proxysponsors-face-a-dilemma/

cifically relating to Southern security concerns. This could take the form of Southern militias breaking the ceasefire under the promise of monetary compensation from the LNA. Recent news sources are pushing an optimistic narrative for the ceasefire to hold until more concrete political developments occur, but there is less talk of follow-through from the very broad clauses of the agreement.91 Though the ceasefire document prioritizes the military track, it makes no mention of security concerns near the South border.92 As outlined in the Fezzan case, there are no incentives for local actors to reduce illicit activity and alternative livelihoods to support communities are inexistant. As long as no such incentives or efforts exist, smuggling routes across borders will remain operational, giving space for insurgency to evolve, potentially triggering a backslide. Thus, even if costs of breaking the ceasefire are high enough for the LNA and GNA, armed groups that are not included in negotiations could spoil the national ceasefire since both the LNA and GNA have failed to acknowledge the support received from loose alliances.93 Though the Tripoli stalemate showed that Northern factions have less of an incentive to see the country destabilized, there is no authority in place to demobilize the volatile armed groups. This is especially relevant in the South, where the breakdown of the security apparatus and weak state infrastructure enabled fighting groups to recruit freely across borders.

Therefore, if strides to counter the growth of the shadow economy are not taken, the locally observed national ceasefire will likely not last. Additionally, even if there is success in disarming or demobilizing foreign fighters, their respective countries may not take them back. This could lead to a “guns for hire” situation in the Sahel region, or influence foreign fighters’ incentive structure to keep the status quo in Libya.94 The importance of including Fezzan-based military leaders in a wider national security strategy also has general relevance when looking at the LNA’s structure.

Haftar’s forces are partially composed of the remnants of Qaddafi’s army, despite popular demand for Qadd-

91

Fleshing Out the Libya Ceasefire Agreement,” Crisis Group.

Ibid.

93 Megerisi, Tarek. “Libya’s Global Civil War.” 94 Ibid.

92

Benhocine | 83 afi officers to be sacked from ranks and positions of power. The inclusion decision regarding these actors is thus crucial and goes unaddressed in the peace deal.

In short, factors threatening the possibility of a unity government not only apply to backsliding, but they are compounded by military instability in the South, making a backslide of the conflict towards a status quo the most likely outcome.

Conclusion In conclusion, a backslide to the status quo is the most plausible scenario for the outcome of the Libyan civil war over the coming three years. Although disjointed international intervention has been key in escalation at the heyday of the conflict, domestic dynamics have generally prevailed in influencing the conflict. Hence, hopes for stability in Libya hinge on the domestic struggle over the country’s oil wealth resources and insecurity relating to factionalization in the Fezzan. Addressing the latter could take the form of integrating tribal and military leaders in the security negotiations, as well as providing the region with legal economic alternatives. Currently, the military-focused ceasefire agreement does not pay attention to economic stabilization which has been demonstrated to be crucial for long term stability. Mismanagement and corruption of available oil revenues maintain public service delivery failures, fueling insecurity via the shadow economy as militias profit from the control of black markets. Furthermore, hopes of demilitarizing smuggling routes and porous borders in the Fezzan are meagre because of a lack of licit sources of income and institutional capacity. These precarious factors weaken the possibility of a transition to a unity government in the coming years, suggesting that the most plausible outcome in the short run for Libya’s civil war is a backslide to the status quo.

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Benhocine | 85 Brookings. January 11, 2019. https://www.brookings.edu/research/empowered-decentralization-a-city-based-strategy-for-rebuilding-libya/ “Fleshing Out the Libya Ceasefire Agreement.” Crisis Group. November 4, 2020. https://www.crisisgroup.org/ middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/b80-fleshing-out-libya-ceasefire-agreement Fearon, James D. “Why Do Some Civil Wars Last So Much Longer than Others?.” Journal of Peace Research 41, no.3 (2004): 275-302, doi: 10.1177/0022343304043770 “Fezzan Representatives Adopt a Charter for Reconciliation.” United Nations Support Mission in Libya. April 23, 2017. https://unsmil.unmissions.org/fezzan-representatives-adopt-charter-reconciliation Gupte, Eklavia. “Libya chaos to deepen if blockade continues: NOC’s Sanalla.” Last modified January 27, 2020. https://www.spglobal.com/platts/en/market-insights/latest-news/oil/012720-libya-chaos-to-deepen-if-blockadecontinues-nocs-sanalla “How Libya’s Fezzan Became Europe’s New Border.” Crisis Group. July 31, 2017. https://www.crisisgroup.org/ middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/179-how-libyas-fezzan-became-europes-new-border “How many times has Haftar broken peace initiatives in Libya?.” TRT World. June 15, 2020.https://www.trtworld.com/magazine/how-many-times-has-haftar-broken-peace-initiatives-in-libya-37301 “Information Warfare in Libya: The Online Advance of Khalifa Haftar.” Centro Studi Internazionali. May, 2019. https://cesi-italia.org/contents/Analisi/Information%20warfare%20in%20Libya%20The%20online%20 advance%20of%20Khalifa%20Haftar_1.pdf?fbclid=IwAR3dbzi-7hEjs8fJXNs0T4HDx22LXhMxQ6tZIoP3ezl28E17haIDjJHWQCc Kafala, Tarik. “ Gaddafi’s quixotic and brutal rule.” Last modified October 20, 2011. https://www.bbc.com/news/ world-africa-12532929 Lederer, Edith M. “ UN demands all countries enforce UN arms embargo on Libya.” Last modified September 15, 2020. https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/europe/un-demands-all-countries-enforce-un-arms-embargoon-libya/2020/09/15/54cfeafc-f7b5-11ea-85f7-5941188a98cd_story.html “Libya Events of 2018.” Human Rights Watch. https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2019/country-chapters/libya# “Libyan Gov’t to Exclude Turkish Companies from Contracts.” Hurriyet Daily News. February 23, 2015. https:// www.hurriyetdailynews.com/libyan-govt-to-exclude-turkish-companies-from-contracts--78718 “Libya Overview.” Energy Information Administration. November 19, 2015. https://www.eia.gov/international/ analysis/country/LBY “Libya profile - Timeline.” BBC. April 9, 2019. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-13755445 Mason, T. David, , Joseph P Weingarten, and Patrick J Fett. “Win, Lose, or Draw: Predicting the Outcome of Civil Wars.” Political Research Quarterly 52, no. 2 (1999): 239–68.

Benhocine | 86 Megerisi, Tarek. “Libya’s Global Civil War.” Last modified June 26, 2019. https://ecfr.eu/publication/libyas_ global_civil_war1/ Megerisi, Tarek. “Geostrategic Dimensions of Libya’s Civil War.” Last modified May 18, 2020. https://africacenter.org/publication/geostrategic-dimensions-libya-civil-war/#_edn13How Do Natural Resources Influence “National debt of Libya 2020.” Statista. May 12, 2020. al-debt-of-libya/

https://www.statista.com/statistics/531714/nation-

Pack, Jason. “An International Financial Commission is Libya’s Last Hope.” Last modified January, 2020. https:// www.mei.edu/sites/default/files/2020-01/An%20International%20Financial%20Commission%20is%20Libya%E2%80%99s%20Last%20Hope_0.pdf “Report: Decentralisation in Libya.” Democracy Reporting International. August, 2013. http://democracy-reporting.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/dri-ly-rpt_en_decentrali ation_in_libya.pdf Ross, Michael L. “How Do Natural Resources Influence Civil Wars? Evidence from Thirteen Cases.” International Organization 58 (2004): 35-67, doi: 10.1017/S002081830458102X “Shifts in the Libyan Civil War.”Africa Center for Strategic Studies, June 16, 2020, https://africacenter.org/spotlight/shifts-libya-civil-war/ Siegle, Joseph. “Recommended US Response to Russian Activities in Africa.” Last modified May 9, 2019. https:// africacenter.org/experts/joseph-siegle/recommended-us-response-to-russian-activities-in-africa/ Sonmez, Mustafa. “Turkey’s business leaders keep quiet as economic crisis deepens.” Last modified November 5, 2020. https://www.al-monitor.com/pulse/originals/2020/11/turkey-bosses-scared-speak-up-crisis-deepen-usdturkish-lira.html “The Libyan Political Agreement: Time for a Reset.” Crisis Group. November 4, 2016. https://www.crisisgroup. org/middle-east-north-africa/north-africa/libya/libyan-political-agreement-time-reset “The UAE is scrambling to control ports in Africa.” The Economist. July 19, 2018. https://www.economist.com/ middle-east-and-africa/2018/07/19/the-uae-is-scrambling-to-control-ports-in-africa “Timeline: Haftar’s months-long offensive to seize Tripoli.” Al Jazeera. February 19, 2020. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2020/2/19/timeline-haftars-months-long-offensive-to-seize-tripoli “UN in Libya.” United Nations Support Mission in Libya. Accessed November 10, 2020.https://unsmil.unmissions.Oil Blockades, Protests and Resignationsorg/un-libya Wang, Herman and Eklavya Gupte. “Libya’s output surge readily absorbed by refiners in sign of strong oil demand: traders.” Last modified November 16, 2020. https://www.spglobal.com/platts/en/market-insights/latest-news/oil/111620-libyas-output-surge-readily-absorbed-by-refiners-in-sign-of-strong-oil-demand-traders

Benhocine | 87 Wehrey, Frederic. “Insecurity and Governance Challenges in Southern Libya.” Last modified March 30, 2017. https://carnegieendowment.org/2017/03/30/insecurity-and-governance-challenges-in-southern-libya-pub-68451 Wilson, Nate. “Oil Blockades, Protests and Resignations: The Latest on Libya’s Conflict.” Last modified September 30, 2020. https://www.usip.org/publications/2020/09/oil-blockades-protests-and-resignations-latest-libyas-conflict Wilson, Nate and Inga Kristina Trauthig. “Understanding Libya’s South Eight Years After Qaddafi.” Last modified October 23, 2019. https://www.usip.org/publications/2019/10/understanding-libyas-south-eight-years-after-qaddafi “World Leaders Seek to Coordinate Libya Crisis Response.” IHS Markit. February 25, 2011. https://ihsmarkit. com/country-industry-forecasting.html?id=1065929081 Zaptia, Sami. “Libya’s Growing Shadow Economy Threatens More Destabilisation says report.” Last modified June 10, 2017. https://www.libyaherald.com/2017/06/10/libyas-growing-shadow-economy-is-an-increasing-destabilization-threat-report Zaptia, Sami. “The Hafter-aligned PFG announces resumption of the export of stored oil and gas.” Last modified August 19, 2020. https://www.libyaherald.com/2020/08/19/the-hafter-aligned-pfg-announces-resumption-of-theexport-of-stored-oil-and-gas/ Zucconi, Paolo. “The Strategic Role of the Fezzan Region for European Security.” Last modified May 30, 2019. https://fpc.org.uk/the-strategic-role-of-the-fezzan-region-for-european-security

Hamilton | 89 Abstract Although rarely defined by Black people themselves, for centuries Blackness as an identity has continuously been determined, defined, and redefined. In the context of the Caribbean, these different definitions are used to denote a Black inferiority that justifies the continued existence of various power structures. These structures of authority and control were founded on a plantation system created to advance the capitalistic goals of Western colonial actors. This paper argues that within a Jamaican context, the constructions of national identity that emerged after the slave era are rooted in a state-sponsored cultural hegemony based on colonial practices meant to reflect the realities of a select few instead of the Black majority. The Jamaican national motto, “Out of Many, One People” is used throughout this paper to demonstrate how national symbols are used by different elite Jamaican actors to maintain a colonial legacy that continues to devalue Black identity. This paper proposes that the music of Jamaica, specifically dancehall and reggae are part of a larger Black radical tradition that can be used as a tool to challenge the current system and reimagine a Jamaican national identity that is rooted in notions of Black power and Black emancipation.

Résumé Bien que rarement définie par les Noirs eux-mêmes, l’identité Noire a été continuellement déterminée, définie et redéfinie pendant des siècles. Dans le contexte des Caraïbes, ces différentes définitions sont utilisées pour désigner une infériorité des Noirs qui justifie la persistance de diverses structures de pouvoir. Ces structures d’autorité et de contrôle ont été fondées sur un système de plantation créé pour faire avancer les objectifs capitalistes des acteurs coloniaux occidentaux. Cet article soutient que dans le contexte jamaïcain, les constructions de l’identité nationale qui ont émergé après l’ère de l’esclavage sont enracinées dans une hégémonie culturelle parrainée par l’État et basée sur des pratiques coloniales censées refléter les réalités d’un petit nombre de privilégiés au lieu de la majorité noire. La devise nationale jamaïcaine, “Un peuple parmi d’autres”, est utilisée tout au long de cet article pour démontrer comment les symboles nationaux sont utilisés par différentes élites jamaïcaines pour maintenir un héritage colonial qui continue à dévaloriser l’identité noire. Ce document propose que la musique jamaïcaine, en particulier le dancehall et le reggae, fasse partie d’une tradition radicale noire plus large qui peut être utilisée comme un outil pour remettre en question le système actuel et réimaginer une identité nationale jamaïcaine qui est enracinée dans les notions de Black power et d’émancipation des Noirs.

Hamilton | 90 Introduction For centuries Blackness as an identity has been continuously redefined. However, the dominant constructions of Blackness that have historically gained widespread recognition have rarely been determined by Black people themselves. Instead there has been a Black identity denoting inferiority constructed by elite societies – in most cases white people – imposed onto the masses.

Blackness became associated with the “Negro” a “negation of African… [which] suggested no situatedness in time, that is history, or space that is ethno-or politico-geography. The Negro has no civilization, no cultures, no religions, no history, no place and finally no humanity that might command consideration.”1 This inferior notion of Black identity was imperative to the implementation of slavery, an instrument used to advance the agendas of European society and the system of global capitalism.

This notion of Black people as a “Negro” came to represent divisive differences that were used to construct Black people as an exploitable source of labour; viewed as uncivilized and thus insensitive to subhuman conditions of work. To further the expansion of global capitalism, the “Negroes, were purchased with British manufactures; transported to the plantations, they produced… tropical products, the processing of which created new industries in England; while the maintenance of the Negroes and their owners on the plantations provided another market for British industry.”2 At this point in history, the Caribbean no longer represented a region of the world where local native populations thrived. Instead, as designed by European powers, the Caribbean became a “plantation system” where a labour pool – rather than autonomous citizens – worked as part of a large-scale industry. As abolitionist sentiment gained popularity throughout the world, theorists such as Thomas Holt argued that “abolitionists and policymakers sought to solve the ‘problem of freedom’ by transforming slaves into reliable wage labourers.”3 The construction of nationalism emerged as

1

Robinson, Cedric. Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition. (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2000), 81 2 Robinson, Black Marxism, 82.

3 Thomas, Deborah. “The "Problem" of Nationalism in the British

a key element of this transition.

The emergence of a national sentiment within British colonies was “neither accidental nor unrelated to the character [of] European capitalism… they still required the co-optation of their… proletariat in order to destroy their competitors.”4 Nationalism within the Caribbean colonies became a tool used by European colonial powers to maintain the existence of their industrial sectors during the post-slavery transition.

However, nationalism was only acceptable within the Caribbean colonies so long as it did not threaten the construction and preservation of global capitalism.

Within this paper I will explore how the construction of Jamaican nationalism post-slavery was grounded in a state-sponsored cultural hegemony rooted in colonial practices and ideologies. I argue that within the Jamaican context, to concede to a notion of a ‘Black’ identity that could be a base for Jamaican nationalism would threaten the colonial legacy that exists, resulting in the creation of a national Jamaican identity that reflects a select few instead of the Black majority. To do this I will use the Jamaican national motto “Out of Many, One People” to demonstrate how the state attempted to keep the Black masses in their place. Additionally, I will argue that the music of the region – specifically reggae and dancehall – reflects a counter-hegemonic movement. Finally, I will aim to locate the work of dancehall and reggae within part of a larger Black radical tradition that can be used as a tool to reimagine Jamaican national identity.

Creole National Identity as a Form of Cultural Hegemony Throughout history it has been the “bourgeoisie and the administrators of state power who initiated and nurtured myths of egalitarianism while seizing every occasion to divide peoples for the purpose of their domination.”5 This has created a top-down imposition of national identity; one that is typically reflective of

West Indies; or "What We Are and What We Hope to Be"." In Modern Blackness: Nationalism, Globalization, and the Politics of Culture in Jamaica¸ ed. Irene Silberblatt (Duke University Press, 2004), 38 4 Robinson, Black Marxism, 27 5 Robinson, Black Marxism, 26

Hamilton | 91 those who occupy positions of privilege. The development of a cohesive national identity in the Caribbean is a venture that was bound to face challenges, given that populations within the region consist of “heterogenous ethnicities that were developed in response to European expansionism and the subsequent development of monocrop plantation agriculture.”6 As Norman Manley highlights, “[Jamaica] lacks that hammock of national belonging which cradles a people against historical falls.”7 This suggests that what is fundamental for newly independent states when developing a sense of nationhood is a native-appearing or anticolonial identity. An identity that can nurture a citizenry whose historical reality was based on varying schemes of international capitalism.8 However, the reality that Jamaica – like many other nations in the Caribbean – does not have a distinct indigenous identity to draw from creates a challenge in respect to how the nation can unite under a cohesive identity. The identity that emerged as part of the national narrative, was one of creolization.

Capitalist driven goals from the era of slavery and indentured labour brought differing cultures into confrontation with one another. The sentiment of creole as a multiracial nationalism that emerged was a narrow definition of Jamaican identity that reflected the interest of the elite non-Black minorities instead of the Black masses. Hierarchy in the Jamaican slave plantation economy was White on top, Black on the bottom, with Brown people occupying the middle positions. This hierarchy of privileges was manufactured and embedded in society after slavery ended in 1838, providing a basis for the subsequent rise of the brown elite.9 To further reinforce the dominant position of the brown elite, this group tended to assimilate other ethnic minorities (Jewish, Lebanese, Chinese) into their narrative while simultaneously maintaining control of most large-scale businesses.

The nationalist sentiment in Jamaica post-slavery,

came to embody a cultural hegemony which was strengthened by the election and implementation of the People’s National Party (PNP) in 1938.10 As Antonio Gramsci highlights within his theory of cultural hegemony,

The liberal state represents the concrete realization in history of fundamental liberties, but only as they were gained by, and for, a particular class of the bourgeoise… the fundamental principles of civil rights, or the ‘rights of man,’ normally associated with liberalism may very well be universal, but in the liberal state, these rights are secured and protected in a form that privileges the bourgeoise and perpetuates its socioeconomic dominance.11 At this point the minority brown group controlled both political and economic power, becoming a hegemonic cultural force in Jamaica. The nationalist rhetoric enforced by this elite group was not a nationalism that promoted Black nationalism, viewing all people of African descent as having a shared circumstance. Instead, it was a creole multiracial nationalism, “closely resembling classical European nationalism… founded on a common history of culture rather than race, and as in Europe obscured the conflation of class with race.”12 The non-Black authority that existed within Jamaica did so under the veil of creolization, because they recognized that to accede to the notion of a Black identity on which to base the Jamaican identity would threaten both the state and the economic system Jamaica was created to support. Therefore, to invalidate an implied inherent value to Blackness, the emerging elites found it necessary to distance themselves from Black Power and the promotion of Black liberation – something colonialism worked very hard to eliminate. Acknowledging the power of Black people and thus a potentially Black nation could very well enable the underclass masses to rise to a position of power. In hopes of mitigating this potential threat the nation that was designed by the state “via its national iconography had an equal rather than equitable visual representation of the eth-

6

Thomas, Deborah. “Emancipating the Nation (again): Notes on Nationalism, “modernization,” and Other Dilemmas in Post-colonial Jamaica." In Identities (1999), 501.

7 Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again), 501 8 Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again), 501 9 Robotham, Don. "Blackening the Jamaican Nation: The Travails of a Black Bourgeoisie in a Globalized World." (2000), 12

Thomas, “The "Problem" of Nationalism”, 53 Buttigieg, Joseph A. "Gramsci on Civil Society." In Boundary 2, (1995), 10 12 Thomas, “The "Problem" of Nationalism”, 53 10 11

Hamilton | 92 nicities existing within its borders.”13 This is further demonstrated by the construction and implementation of Jamaica’s national motto, “Out of many, one people” during post-independence in 1962.

The national motto “Out of many, one people” became a state-sponsored tool for the brown elite to ignore the need for equitable representation of the Jamaican population by diluting a Black majority – over 80 percent of the population – down to the same level as the other ethnic minorities. This allowed the brown elite to impose a nationalism that did not challenge the status quo of the formerly colonial country that had been inherited at the time of Jamaican independence. In this regard Jamaica was still colonial at heart. The national motto projects as a way for the state – and by extension the elite minority – to exert control and subordination of the Black masses in a non-violent manner; a method that at times is more effective than coercion or domination by force.14 The national motto was a symbolic way for the state to popularize it’s conception of the nation, by providing an avenue for the state to “imprint its version of the nation on to the minds of the nation it purports to represent.”15 However the colonially influenced notions of nationhood that the Jamaican neo-colonial state tried establishing was directly at odds with the ideologies of nationhood that were being developed simultaneously among civil society.

Music in Jamaica: a reflection of the Black dispossessed Despite an acknowledgement of the beauty of Jamaica’s physical landscape, the opinion among the general local population – that transcends racial, class and generational lines – since independence is that ‘Jamaica mash up completely’.16 In contrast to an average national economic growth of nearly six percent annually in the late 1990s, uneven income distribution worked to maintain Jamaica’s dependency on capitalist de-

velopment.17 As George Beckford asserts, “because of the historical legacy, all the people of the plantation society see themselves as inferior and incapable of carrying out major schemes…”18 The colonial tradition of racism implemented values and traditions of consciousness through which the Black masses of this era came to understand their world and their experiences.19 As a result of Jamaica’s colonial legacy, and the dehumanization of blackness due to slavery in the West Indies, there is a sentiment imposed onto wider society that Black is bad, and foreign is better. This complex of inferiority that exists within the Jamaican philosophy is what George Beckford coins as “black dispossession.”20 In protest to the narrative of “black dispossession”, what emerged throughout Jamaican civil society was a counter-hegemonic movement grounded in the mental emancipation of Black people. To overcome conditions of powerlessness and cultural alienation, intellects such as George Beckford have proposed that what is required is a “process of mental liberation through which people would discover their own power based on a belief in themselves”.21 I argue that reggae and dancehall were two instruments that both expanded Jamaica’s Black radical oral tradition and facilitated the mental emancipation of the Black masses. To echo Linton Kwesi Johnson, “not only does the poetry of Jamaican music lament the suffering of the ‘sufferers’ it also asserts their strength and their determination to struggle on relentlessly… Jamaican music embodies the historical experiences of the masses – it reflects and in reflecting reveals the contemporary situation of the nation.”22 Reggae: Jamaica’s Path to Freedom Various Caribbean scholars have suggested that it was

Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again)”, 512 Hill, Robert A. "From New World to Abeng: George Beckford and the Horn of Black Power in Jamaica, 1968–1970." In Small Axe: A Caribbean Journal of Criticism, (2007), 8 19 Robinson, Black Marxism, 66 20 Hill, "From New World to Abeng”, 13 21 Hill, "From New World to Abeng”, 8 22 Johnson, Linton Kwesi. "Jamaican Rebel Music." In Race and Class (April 1976), 398 17 18

13

Devonish, Hubert, and Karen Carpenter. "Through Children's Eyes: Where Nation, State, Race, Colour and Language Meet."

In Language, Race, and the Global Jamaican, (Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020), 79 14 Buttigieg, "Gramsci on Civil Society", 6 15 Devonish & Carpenter, “Through Children’s Eyes”, 80 16 Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again)”, 512

Hamilton | 93 reggae music , not state-driven policy, that facilitated a growing awareness of alternative ways to imagine the Jamaican Black experience and stimulate a new consciousness of racial and class identity. Furthermore, it has been proposed that reggae has helped local Black Jamaicans situate their experiences in an international and sometimes Pan-African context.23 In this regard, reggae music became an instrument for the Black masses to protest the cultural hegemony that was imposed by the non-Black elite minority. Reggae is a realm of civil society that participates in the meticulous process, “of disseminating and instilling an alternative forma mentis by means of cultural preparation… on a mass scale”; actions both Gramsci and Beckford deemed necessary for revolutionary activity.24 This is reflected in the lyrics of Peter Tosh’s “Mark of the Beast” when he says I see the mark of the beast on their ugly faces I see them congregate in evil places Me say me know them a-wicked, Lordy, Lord Me know them a-wicked Me say me know them a-wicked, Babylon Me say me know them a-wicked What have I done to be incriminated?

What have I done to be humiliated?25 Peter Tosh, like many reggae artists of the late twentieth century, generated an awareness of the fact that ‘Babylon’ – Western society – is not only harmful but frankly does not exist to serve or help the Jamaican people. The emergence of reggae as part of the “culture of dread” challenged the cultural hegemony of whiteness – disguised as creolization – present in Jamaican society. Over 40 years later we see this assertion of Black Power continuously reflected in the reggae music of newer artists such as Chronixx. In “Black in Beautiful” he begins with, We love the children of Africa Teaching the children Oh na na anna La da da da

Black eye, black hair, black skin Black queen stand majestic with the black king26 This works to acknowledge Jamaican Black ancestral roots. He proceeds to assert that he’s … never seen a doctor in black nor seen a black pill fi cure no black people But I’ve seen bush doctors like Tosh and Marley resurrect like a real black beatle Malcom, Marcus, Martin When you see Walter Rodney ask him How you nuh hear about Howell often27 In this song Chronixx highlights the history of his people and his genre, giving legitimacy to the real literature of Jamaica. He emphasizes a pride in African ancestry and culture. Chronixx speaks to an experience that has been denied for the Black masses. Not only does the music of Jamaica speak to the feelings of dispossession, but it simultaneously highlights the colonial violence that is present in Jamaica as demonstrated by Koffee’s lyrics, Parliament tun di paper Fi ghetto youths dem nuh cater That’s why di country nuh safer Hear seh di guns dem pile out here28 Artists like Koffee, Chronixx and Peter Tosh offer alternative narratives that affirm the strength, dignity, and humanity of Blackness in an effort to fill the significant void in the state narrative of Jamaican reality.

Dancehall as A Form of Liberation Rather than Degradation Whereas reggae has been an oral tradition that is widely accepted as a popular expression of protest and resistance, dancehall has been a continuous victim of critique. Scholars such as David Scott have described dancehall as a “disturbing mirror of contemporary Jamaican society. [That] embodies a set of debased values”.29 Dancehall has been positioned to be reg-

26

23

Cooper, Carolyn, and Hubert Devonish. "The Dancehall Transnation." In Sound Clash: Jamaican Dancehall Culture at Large, (Palgrave Macmillan US, 2004), 300.

24 Hill, "From New World to Abeng”, 14 25 Peter Tosh “Mark of the Beast”

Chronixx. “Black is Beautiful,” Released 2017. Track 9 on Chronology. Virgin EMI, July 7, 2017, Studio Album.

27 Chronixx. “Black is Beautiful” 28 Koffee. “Raggamuffin,” Released 2019. Track 5 on Rapture.

KOFFEE Music, March 14, 2019, Debut Extended Play.

29 Barnes, Natasha. "The Dystopic Popular: Jamaica's Dancehall."

In Cultural Conundrums: Gender, Race, Nation, and the Making

Hamilton | 94 gae’s deviant cousin that in some, if not most cases contradicts the cultural revolution that reggae is trying to invoke. On the one hand reggae has been championed within Jamaican society as a disseminator of African-centered values and traditions; a rejection of ‘Babylon’, a challenge to the system. On the other hand, dancehall’s preoccupation with achieving “the good life” – demonstrated by its celebration of money, light-skinned women, expensive cars, and sex to name a few – has been positioned as the consequence of capitalism’s problematic influence. I argue however, that this conflation of dancehall with impurity and demoralization, is rooted in patriarchal gender norms that emerged partly as a consequence of religious colonial influence.

The Baptist Church played a significant role in post-emancipation rural settlement as land rights became a central theme of both freedom and community for former slaves in Jamaica. The church was crucial to the establishment of “free villages” as a result of their ability to buy and subdivide property for newly emancipated slaves.30 In fact, it was highlighted in the Guinness Book of World Records, that Jamaica has the most churches per square mile in the world.31 Along with the establishment of these free villages, however, was the propagation of new gendered ideologies that supported their view of how society should function post-emancipation. Key to these opinions was the patriarchal view of family and the notion that Black women’s priorities now consisted of marriage, child-rearing, and domestic wage labour on the off chance they needed to work outside the home, although this was highly discouraged.32 This relegation of women to the private realm of family and social reproduction naturalized the roles of women within society instead of creating space for debate, consequently creating a void of female voices in Jamaica’s national discourse. Not only have Black women consistently been removed from narratives of national identity, but their personal character is contin-

of Caribbean Cultural Politics, (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2006), 103 30 Thomas, “The "Problem" of Nationalism”, 39 31 Riley, Ingrid. "Thoughts As Things – Jamaica Is Bleeding, Someone Pass Me A Bible!" Jamaicans.com. (April 10, 2015) 32 Thomas, “The "Problem" of Nationalism”, 39

uously under debate.

The objectification of Black femme bodies has been a topic debated throughout the entire course of history; controversies of existence emerge whenever Black women are present. These controversies are demonstrated in the song “Black Hypocrisy” by dancehall artist Spice when she notes, … I was told I would reach further If the colour of mi skin was lighter And I was made to feel inferior Cah society seh brown girls prettier Mi love the way mi look Mi love mi pretty black skin Respect due to mi strong melanin Proud of mi colour, love the skin that I’m in Bun racism, demolish colourism But the things weh mi a go seh Yuh might not even have mi back I get hate from my own race Yes, that’s a fact ‘Cause the same black people dem seh I’m too black And if yuh bleach out yuh skin dem same one come a chat33 Within a dancehall context, the activities of Black women that adhere to a dancehall aesthetic – such as practices that involve hairweaving or browning– is sometimes viewed both by Jamaicans and foreigners as a misplaced desire to achieve whiteness or sexual deviation. Society has labelled working class women and their desire to adhere to a dancehall aesthetic as “harbingers of a culture of self-hate.”34 However to contrast this notion, if one were to reinterpret dancehall and its aesthetic outside of patriarchal gender norms, dancehall can be viewed as an environment in which women are able to negotiate their existence on their terms. In this sense, dancehall and the dancehall aesthetic becomes something that is uniquely Jamaican. It can be seen as a reinvention of hegemonic practices, instead of a pathological symptom of racial self-loathing. If we treat the face, hair and body as spaces that are already socialized “we can begin to delink aesthetic or cosmetic practices… from moral or ethnical con-

33

Spice. “Black Hypocrisy,” Released 2018. Track 1 on Captured.

Spice Official ENT, November 2, 2018, Mixtape.

34 Barnes, "The Dystopic Popular", 104

Hamilton | 95 ceptions” of authentic femme blackness.35 Furthermore, to situate the expression of the erotic found in dancehall music as a form of liberation can transform the perception of dancehall as ‘deviant’ domain. The lyrics: Me step inna di club a dance rub a dub An di gyal a come wine up on me Mi stan so tall back against the wall And now she start climb up pon me…

The way di gyal a wine is like the breeze a blow But it hot and the sun shine on me Di dutty wine my girl dutty wine (whoa)36 speak to sexual liberation and the power of the female body instead of gender politics based on the objectivity of the female body. A woman is dancing, and there is power in her movements. Dance and music become united to create a form of expression that in itself is a form of communal ritual and ceremony.

Like reggae, dancehall too can be re-contextualized within an African discourse when the symbolism of African female fertility figures such as Yoruba orishas Oshun and Oya are considered.37 Within the Yoruba tradition these orishas are recognized as the embodiment of the power in the erotic and the erotic in nature.

Notions that are in direct confrontation with Western patriarchal norms of the female existence. This is even more true when music by female dancehall artists like Lady Saw, Lady G, Sister Nancy and Spice are held to a higher standard compared to music created by male artists like Beenie Man, Vybz Kartel, Elephant Man and Buju Banton. Whereas female dancehall artists are subjected to critiques similar to that of American anthropologist Obiagele Lake when she states, “given the patriarchal climate, one would expect sexist lyrics emanating from men. Unfortunately, women who have internalized sexist norms add to these negative images.

Lady Saw is one such songstress who plays herself and by association, all other women…” male dancehall artists are not held to the same moral standard.38 Although

Barnes, "The Dystopic Popular”,109 Matterhorn, Tony. “Dutty Wine,” Released 2006. Track 1 on Dutty Wine. VP Records, 2006, CD. 35

certain male artists have received criticisms about anti-gay rheotoric present in their music, female dancehall artists bear the brunt of reprimands for “harmful” sexually explicit lyrics. These various criticisms ignore how music like “Hardcore” by Lady Saw have become a way to invoke female agency and challenge the status quo thus becoming rebel music just like reggae.

Prior to the construction of the “Negro” as a position of Black inferiority detached from its African identity, the “Blacks were a fearful phenomenon to Europeans because of their historical association with civilizations superior, dominant and/or antagonistic to Western societies…”39 Reggae and dancehall are rebel music that champion Blackness and are therefore a fearful phenomenon due to their capacity for mental emancipation. They challenge the very foundations on which Jamaica was created.

Rooting Jamaican nationalism and identity in its music The only models of nationhood available for newly independent states to emulate are the ones from which they seek independence. This is a problem because the nation-building experiences of emerging colonial powers are not applicable to the experiences of their colonies. This results in an attempt by colonies to recreate situations that are not grounded in the local experiences of their populations. However, an identity that does not recognize a major section of its population and its history cannot be considered a national identity. The Jamaican situation exemplifies one of the most contentious aspects of nationalism, regarding “whether and to what extent a national movement led by minority classes… has the potential to implement… measures which benefit the broad majority…”40 The Caribbean represents the only region in the Western world where nations exist that have a Black majority who control state power. However, within the Jamaican context, it took over fifty years after independence for the first Black man to be elected as Prime Minister.41 The Black bourgeoisie rose to a position of political power with the emergence of P. J. Patterson

36

Robinson, Black Marxism, 82 Robotham, "Blackening the Jamaican Nation”, 6 41 Robotham, "Blackening the Jamaican Nation”, 14

37

39

Dancehall Culture at Large, (Palgrave Macmillan US, 2004), 104

40

Cooper, Carolyn. "Lady Saw Cuts Loose." In Sound Clash: Jamaican

Cooper, “Lady Saw Cuts Loose”, 100

38

Hamilton | 96 as head of the PNP, resulting in a stronger recognition of blackness. However, the Black nationalism that emerged as a result was one diluted by the desire to work within the system of global capitalism. This included an adherence to harmful structural adjustment policies and an increased desire for foreign investment – evident in the overwhelming presence of Canadian banks. The Black bourgeoisie of this period welcomed the neo-colonial, paternalistic presence of “the Big White Brother” embodied by Canada’s extensive Caribbean banking network.42 In fact when the financial economy collapsed in 1998 “only three financial institutions emerged unscathed. All were foreign – the local branches of… the Bank of Nova Scotia, the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce and CITIBANK.”43 Instead of working to alleviate the financial burden on civilians following the crisis, the government chose to bail out foreign investors, sparking a mass deterioration of support. What the government and Black bourgeoisie failed to recognize was that “the dominant class… must accept that the government apparatus cannot always assert their corporate interests narrowly and directly.”44 The Black bourgeoisie ignored the fact that they cannot rely solely on the power and material force provided by the government, particularly when it excludes the masses.

Don Robotham suggests that “the Black Jamaican wants blackness as an identity, but a blackness understood as modern… urban, not rural… educated and professional not folk, a blackness able to hold its own in the white world of global capitalism.”45 Dancehall and reggae can be a means to facilitate the emergence of a modern Blackness. This is evident in the popularity of these artists, and their distinguishable recognition on the world stage. Reggae and dancehall artists give Jamaica an international name, especially when one considers how distinguishable these artists are. There are artists like Koffee – who was not only the youngest person but also the only woman to win a Grammy for Best Reggae Album in 2019 for her album Rap-

ture – achieving monumental feats on an international scale.46 These artists highlight the Black excellence that is dancehall and reggae; that is Jamaican culture.

The worldwide recognition of dancehall and reggae demonstrates a continuous contradiction with sentiments that “anything black is no good and that better is always found elsewhere.”47 To ground national Jamaican identity in reggae and dancehall music would not only work to bring the voices of the unheard masses into the national narrative, but it would do so in the name of Black excellence.

42

46

Hudson, Peter James. “Imperial Designs: The Royal Bank of Canada in the Caribbean.” Race & Class (2010), 38.

43 Robotham, "Blackening the Jamaican Nation”, 34 44 Buttigieg, "Gramsci on Civil Society", 12 45 Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again)”, 532

Conclusion From the mid-sixteenth century and onwards it was an African tradition that embodied the collective resistance by Black people to slavery and colonialism, which is what made the Black radical tradition manifest.48 When slave labour was transported to the plantations, contrary to popular colonial belief, these people brought with them African codes of being and social existence. Reggae and dancehall artists embody a collective resistance, and it is this resistance that locates them firmly within the Black radical tradition. To recognize this is to recognize the oral tradition that is inherent to reggae and dancehall music. Within this oral tradition is a Jamaican history, a history that can be used for true Jamaican liberation. As Chronixx notes, Preacher is preaching good God the things that he preaches I wonder who taught him to preach Teacher is teaching where did he get his degree Now it is no mystery who taught us black history49 Reggae and dancehall are Jamaica’s true teachers, they are a counter-hegemonic force that amplifies the true experience of the masses and can be a revolutionary assertion of a unique and true cultural autonomy.

Leight, Elias. "Koffee Makes History With Grammy Win, Signs With RCA." Rolling Stone. (February 07, 2020) 47 Thomas, “Emancipating the Nation (again)”, 532 48 Robinson, Black Marxism, 169 49 Chronixx “Black is Beautiful”

Hamilton | 97 Works Cited Anglin, K.D. “Koffee Says Dancehall Need More Positivity, Talks ‘Toast’ Being First Hit.” Urban Islandz. October 21, 2020. https://urbanislandz.com/2020/03/04/koffee-says-dancehall-need-more-positivity-talks-toast-being-first-hit/.

Barnes, Natasha. “The Dystopic Popular: Jamaica’s Dancehall.” In Cultural Conundrums: Gender, Race, Nation, and the Making of Caribbean Cultural Politics, 0-134. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2006.

Buttigieg, Joseph A. “Gramsci on Civil Society.” Boundary 2 22, no. 3 (1995): 1-32. doi:10.2307/303721.

Chronixx. “Black is Beautiful,” Released 2017. Track 9 on Chronology. Virgin EMI, July 7, 2017, Studio Album.

Cooper, Carolyn. “Lady Saw Cuts Loose.” In Sound Clash: Jamaican Dancehall Culture at Large, 99-123. Palgrave Macmillan US, 2004.

Cooper, Carolyn, and Hubert Devonish. “The Dancehall Transnation.” In Sound Clash: Jamaican Dancehall Culture at Large, 279-301. Palgrave Macmillan US, 2004.

Devonish, Hubert, and Karen Carpenter. “Through Children’s Eyes: Where Nation, State, Race, Colour and Language Meet.” In Language, Race, and the Global Jamaican, 77-106. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan, 2020. https://doi. org/10.1007/978-3-030-45748-8_4.

Hill, Robert A. “From New World to Abeng: George Beckford and the Horn of Black Power in Jamaica, 1968– 1970.” Small Axe: A Caribbean Journal of Criticism 24, 2007: 1-15. doi:10.2979/sax.2007.-.24.1.

Hudson, Peter James. “Imperial Designs: The Royal Bank of Canada in the Caribbean.” Race & Class 52, no. 1 (2010): 33-48. doi:10.1177/0306396810371762.

Johnson, Linton Kwesi. “Jamaican Rebel Music.” Race and Class 17, no. 4, April 1976: 397-412. https://doi. org/10.1177/030639687601700404.

Koffee. “Raggamuffin,” Released 2019. Track 5 on Rapture. KOFFEE Music, March 14, 2019, Debut Extended Play.

Leight, Elias. “Koffee Makes History With Grammy Win, Signs With RCA.” Rolling Stone. February 07, 2020. https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/koffee-grammy-win-rca-signing-946992/.

Matterhorn, Tony. “Dutty Wine,” Released 2006. Track 1 on Dutty Wine. VP Records, 2006, CD. Riley, Ingrid. “Thoughts As Things – Jamaica Is Bleeding, Someone Pass Me A Bible!” Jamaicans.com. April 10, 2015. https://jamaicans.com/thoughts-as-things-jamaic/.

Robinson, Cedric. Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2000. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/mcgill/detail.action?docID=475202.

Robotham, Don. “Blackening the Jamaican Nation: The Travails of a Black Bourgeoisie in a Globalized World.”

2000, 1-49.

Spice. “Black Hypocrisy,” Released 2018. Track 1 on Captured. Spice Official ENT, November 2, 2018, Mixtape.

Tosh, Peter. “Mark of the Beast,” Released 1973. Track 15 on Honorary Citizen. Columbia Legacy, August 23,

Hamilton | 98 1997, CD. Thomas, Deborah. “Emancipating the Nation (again): Notes on Nationalism, “modernization,” and Other Dilemmas in Post-colonial Jamaica.” Identities 5, no. 4, 1999: 501-42. doi:10.1080/1070289X.1999.9962628.

Thomas, Deborah. “The “Problem” of Nationalism in the British West Indies; or “What We Are and What We Hope to Be”.” In Modern Blackness: Nationalism, Globalization, and the Politics of Culture in Jamaica, edited by Irene Silberblatt, 29-57. Duke University Press, 2004. https://doi-org.proxy3.library.mcgill.ca/10.1215/9780822386308002

Clark | 100 Abstract The ongoing Israel-Palestinian political conflict is uniquely reflected in the region’s escalating water crisis. Gaza is known to be the second most “water-poor” region in the world, leading academics to predict the state will be “uninhabitable” by 2020. While the COVID-19 has created immense struggles globally, over 2 million people still live in Gaza, and over 90% do not have access to potable water. The water crisis, coupled with the Conflict and Israeli-blockade, highlights the need for Gazans to have their own, sustainable water supply for their survival. In this case study, I explore the feasibility of implementing a large-scale reverse osmosis desalination plant to provide Gaza with an autonomous water supply. While desalination is often touted as a viable solution for Gaza, in reality, implementing a plant is an incredibly complex endeavour. I will walk the reader through how the water-crisis came to be, explaining why desalination is a technologically practical avenue to pursue. While its potential is marked, the vast barriers to desalination include, the initial high economic cost, the Palestinian National Authority’s lack of regulatory capacity within Gaza’s borders, as well as the chief concern: political objections stemming from the on-going and emotionally charged conflict with Israel.

Résumé Le conflit politique israélo-palestinien en cours se reflète uniquement dans l’escalade de la crise de l’eau dans la région. Gaza est connue pour être la deuxième région la plus “pauvre en eau” au monde, ce qui amène les universitaires à prédire que l’État sera “inhabitable” d’ici 2020. Alors que le COVID-19 a créé d’immenses luttes dans le monde entier, plus de 2 millions de personnes vivent encore à Gaza, et plus de 90% n’ont pas accès à l’eau potable. La crise de l’eau, associée au conflit et au blocus israélien, souligne la nécessité pour les Gazaouis d’avoir leur propre approvisionnement durable en eau pour leur survie. Dans cette étude de cas, j’explore la faisabilité de la mise en œuvre d’une usine de dessalement par osmose inverse à grande échelle pour fournir à Gaza un approvisionnement en eau autonome. Si le dessalement est souvent présenté comme une solution viable pour Gaza, en réalité, la mise en place d’une usine est une entreprise incroyablement complexe. Je vais expliquer au lecteur comment est née la crise de l’eau et pourquoi le dessalement est une voie technologiquement pratique à suivre. Bien que son potentiel soit marqué, les vastes obstacles au dessalement comprennent le coût économique initial élevé, le manque de capacité réglementaire de l’Autorité nationale palestinienne à l’intérieur des frontières de Gaza, ainsi que la principale préoccupation : les objections politiques découlant du conflit en cours et chargé d’émotion avec Israël.

Clark | 101 Introduction The ongoing Israel-Palestinian conflict is complex, being both emotionally and politically charged. Moreover, the Middle East’s overwhelmingly arid landscape presents natural resource challenges; specifically, its water shortage compounds the fragile geopolitical relationships that characterize the region. The water shortage is a flashpoint of tension between Middle Eastern nations, especially as significant exogenous factors, such as climate change and intensified drought,1 as well as supply shortages and reverse migration back to the area, have only exacerbated the region’s water insecurity throughout time. Since late antiquity, relations between Jews and Arabs have been contentious, with a series of new tensions arising after the modern state of Israel’s foundation in 1948, and the consequential impact of the 1967 Arab-Israeli Warwhich greatly expanded Israel’s territorial size.2 These events dramatically changed the already fractured relationship between Jews and Palestinians. Since 1967, Israel has retained a form of settler-colonial control over the West Bank, although its occupation of the Gaza Strip concluded in 2005.3 The complicated political history between Israel and Palestine is especially evident in the region’s water crisis. Gaza is the second most “water-poor” area in the world.4 Gaza’s already dense population and its rising population growth rate have dramatically exacerbated the water crisis, with Gaza predicted to run out of water by the end of 2020.5 By 2005, approximately 90% of

Gaza’s water was already considered to be undrinkable due to its chlorine content of 1000mg/L, which is far above the World Health Organization’s (WHO) potable standard of 250mg/L.6This is a marked contrast to Israel’s projection of an eventual 200-300% surplus in desalinated water supply.7 These predictions highlight the pervasive inequality arising from the complex relationship between the neighbouring states despite their geographical proximity and shared resources. Despite its location adjacent to the Mediterranean Sea, Gaza’s water supply is wholly reliant on the Coastal Aquifer it shares with Israel, where it is the downstream partner.

Based on the concept of hydro-hegemony, it is advantageous to be the upstream partner; in this position, one is theoretically able to restrict water use through damming it, thereby reducing the downstream partner’s access.8 Thus, Gaza is disadvantaged in the asymmetrical relationship determining the Coastal Aquifer’s management, due to Israel’s ability to direct water flow.9 Gaza’s position as the downstream partner also naturally results in a degraded groundwater supply.10 Degradation primarily occurs as the water flows from the eastern Gaza Strip, where the aquifer enters from Israeli territory, down throughout the rest of the Strip.

Isotopic samples from Israel and Eastern Gaza have the same salinity measure, confirming that water flow downstream to the Gazan water table naturally disadvantages the territory.11 Salinity has increased dramatically due to Gaza’s natural disadvantage in conjunction with years of overexploitation of already limited groundwater.12 Such accelerating degradation points to the need for an alternative water supply and robust water management. This paper’s proposed solution of

1

Ellen Gray, “Drought in Eastern Mediterranean Worst in 900 Years,” National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA), March 1, 2016. http://www.nasa.gov/feature/goddard/2016/nasa-finds-drought-in-eastern-mediterranean-worst-of-past-900years 2 Steve Mock, Amer Obeidi, and John Zeleznikow, “A Brief Outline of the Israel–Palestinian Conflict,” Group Decision and Negotiation 23 (2014): 1252.

3 Mock, Obeidi, and Zeleznikow, “Brief Outline,” 1260.

4 E. Wienthal, A. Vengosh, A. Marei, A. Guttierez, and W. Kloppmann, “The Water Crisis in the Gaza Strip: Prospects for Resolution,” Groundwater 43, no.5 (September-October 2005): 653.

5 Fred de Sam Lazaro, “Water Crisis May Make Gaza Strip Uninhabitable by 2020,” PBS News Hour, January 1, 2019. https:// www.pbs.org/newshour/show/water-crisis-may-make-gaza-strip-uninhabitable-by-2020.

6

Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 655.

Alon Tal, “The Evolution of Israeli Water Management: The Elusive Search for Environmental Security,” in Water Security in the Middle East: Essays in Scientific and Social Cooperation, edited

by Jean Axelrad Cahan, 125–44. Anthem Press, 2017. https:// www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt1jktqmk.11.

8 Shoghik Tadevosyan, “Hydro-Hegemony in Action: The Problem of Water in the Israel-Palestinian Conflict,” Contemporary Eurasia 8, no. 2 (2019): 95.

9 Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 653.

10 Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 655.

11 Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 655.

12 Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 655.

7

Clark | 102 desalination may prove to be an effective remedy for the region’s water crisis, with the aim of alleviating the resource inequality between the Israelis and Palestinians.

In the following case study, I will contextualize the crisis, outlining its impact on Gazans, especially the anticipated migration problems resulting from the overwhelming water shortage that Gaza faces. I will then propose an intervention to the crisis: the development of an extensive centralized desalination plant in Gaza to primarily treat seawater from the Mediterranean Sea. In addition, the central desalination plant should also possess the capability of treating wastewater and some groundwater from the Coastal Aquifer. Finally, I will conclude by presenting the chief political objection to my proposal: the Israeli government’s sustained blockade of Gaza and its opposition to Palestinian autonomy and human rights.

Anticipated Migratory Effects: Compounding Water and Human Insecurity The overall purpose of this case study is to evaluate a potential remedy for the migratory threat posed by a lack of water. The effects of Gaza’s water shortage are distressing. While water shortages act as a natural push factor for migration, over 1.2 million Gazans, many of whom are Palestinian refugees, are ‘trapped’ in the Strip, a territory of less than 400 square kilometres.13 Regional instability is partially responsible for the lack of freedom of movement. Since 2006, Israel has maintained a blockade against their portion of the border, while Egypt, Gaza’s other territorial neighbour, on February 10, 2021 opened its border crossing to Gazans indefinity for the first time since Israel’s withdrawal from Gaza in 2006.14 Moreover, since over 90% of Gaza’s existing water supply is undrinkable, and previous predictions suggest that Gaza will run out

13

Wienthal et al., “Water Crisis,” 654; Jan Selby and Clemens Hoffman, “Water Scarcity, Conflict, and Migration: A Comparative Analysis and Reappraisal,” Environment and Planning C: Government and Policy 30 (2012): 1002.

14 “Egypt ‘Indefinitely’ Opens Rafah Border Crossing with Gaza Strip,” Al Jazeera, February 10, 2021, https://www.aljazeera.com/ news/2021/2/10/egypt-opens-rafah-border-crossing-with-blockaded-gaza-strip.

of clean water by 2020, without intervention, Gaza is likely to have no potable water and thus be uninhabitable within the next decade.15 The effects of this will be drastic.The absence of water will not only impede avenues for economic development, but it will also raise the territory’s mortality rate and exacerbate the ongoing refugee and humanitarian crisis. Consequently, Gazans will be faced with a “choiceless choice” to remain in Gaza and face the consequences of life without freshwater. Alternatively, they will be compelled to leave, ultimately acquiescing to Israel’s strategy of forcing migration from Palestine, effectively beginning to restore Israel-Palestine’s population balance towards a substantial Jewish majority.16 The Goal: Eventual Water Independence for Gaza In order to mitigate Gaza’s eventual total lack of water, there is a desperate need for the Israeli government to allow Palestinians to independently control their water supply. Due to its coastal location, Gaza has the ability, with the appropriate infrastructure, to desalinate water from the Mediterranean Sea. With this intervention, Gaza will be able to address the existing issues behind the crisis and reduce their dependence on Israel for water. The current water crisis stems from structural factors, such as the Aquifer’s inability to replenish water levels, over-exploitation of existing water causing erosion and increased salinization, Gaza’s non-existent purification infrastructure, and its rapidly growing population.17 Therefore, implementing a large-scale desalination plant is the best possible solution for the Gazan context. While desalination can be expensive, recent technological advancements have made it more affordable, especially for land situated next to ample saltwater resources, such as the Meditterean Sea.18

15

United Nations, Gaza in 2020: A Liveable Place (Jerusalem: Office of the United Nations Special Coordinator for the Middle East Peace Process, 2012).

16 Mock, Obeidi, and Zeleznikow, “Brief Outline,” 1269.

17 Selby and Hoffman, “Water Scarcity,” 1010.

18 Christopher G. Reuther, “Saline Solutions: The Quest for Fresh Water,” Environmental Health Perspectives 108, no. 2 (February 2000): 78.

Clark | 103 To clarify, a truly autonomous facility will not be possible from the outset. However, the end goal is for international and local stakeholders to participate in the establishment and short-term management of the facility, until the Palestinian Water Authority (PWA) and the Palestinian National Authority (PA) are able to reduce their reliance on international expertise and funds. While I use the term “autonomous” throughout the following sections, any new, large-scale desalination plant cannot be established without more robust governing ability on behalf of Hamas, PA and PWA, significant funding from international aid sources, and Israeli participation. These are inherent limitations to the viability of such a solution. However, I will attempt to address these challenges in the following sections.

An Overview of Desalination and the Challenges to its Implementation Environmental Concerns New research has led to the development of desalination methods that use membranes to separate particles in the water. Known as reverse osmosis (RO) membrane systems, their smaller energy footprint makes them more economical and thus the more popular choice over older desalination methods, such as thermal distillation, which are extremely energy intensive.

RO systems apply pressure to force water through membranes and divide it into two streams, effectively separating salt from water.19 Globally, experts cite RO as an innovative solution for the simultaneous increase in water demand and water scarcity. While the efficiency of RO systems point to their potential to be the most viable option in this regional context, desalination facilities using such technology cannot be implemented without addressing the possible environmental impacts.

There are two environmental concerns with seawater RO systems: entrainment and impingement. Entrainment occurs when small aquatic organisms get pumped into the desalination plant. Impingement

19

See Figure 1; Alanood A. Alsarayreh et al., “Evaluation and Minimisation of Energy Consumption in a Medium-Scale Reverse Osmosis Brackish Water Desalination Plant,” Journal of Cleaner Production 248, no 1 (2020): 1.

is the same process but for larger marine life.20 Furthermore, RO systems produce brine waste which has approximately twice the salinity as seawater and has a higher temperature than seawater, meaning it must be properly disposed of. A potential disposal method would be to incrementally dilute the brine with seawater to decrease its harmful effects on marine life, effectively reducing the brine’s salt concentration before it is deposited back into the Mediterranean Sea.21 This process, known as dumping, is currently the most popular disposal method for coastal desalination facilities.22 Efforts to properly mitigate brine waste are especially important due to the prevalence of marine life and the economic role that the fishing industry plays in the Gazan economy. It is also important to note that scientists and engineers are aware of this brine issue and are therefore developing and testing innovative solutions for reject-brine. One potential solution that could be beneficial in the Gazan context is the use of reject-brine for aquaculture.This solution, when tested in Dubai, increased certain fish biomass by over 300%.

23 Conversely, while such alternative uses for brine are environmentally preferable, it is important to be cognizant of Gaza’s economic situation and lack of regulatory capacity. Perhaps, in the future, alternative brine use would be an excellent opportunity for international collaboration. Despite these immediate environmental impacts, implementing RO desalination in Gaza is preferable, as it requires less energy than distillation (which requires heating water to its boiling point). Distillation would place a considerable strain on Gaza’s already fragile heating system.24 To mitigate concerns of entrainment and impingement, the paper’s suggested seawater collection area will utilize a well intake system. These are environmentally

20

Brett Koontz and Thomas Hatfield, “Special Report,” Journal of Environmental Health 79, no. 4 (November 2016): 29.

21 Edward Jones et al, “The State of Desalination and Brine Production: A Global Outlook,” Science of The Total Environment 657 (March 2019): 1354. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.scitotenv.2018.12.076 22 Jones et al, “The State of Desalination,” 1354.

23 Catherine Early, “Waste Brine - Ecological Problem or Economic Opportunity,” China Ocean Dialogue, February 7, 2019.

24 Reuther, “Saline Solutions,” 80.

Clark | 104 friendly and provide a level of natural filtration, which can reduce the pre-treatment requirements.25 Wells are appropriate for the Gazan context due to the plant’s proximity to the Meditterean Sea as well as the need to treat sewage that currently gathers on the shores.

In addition, proper maintenance is crucial to negating the environmental impact of desalination. To mitigate environmental risk, PWA experts will be tasked with managing the rigorous compliance standards for the new desalination plants. For instance, the pre-treatment filters must be washed every three to four days “to avoid clogging and preserve efficiency.”26 Experts should also monitor the surrounding sea area’s water temperature weekly to examine the plant’s environmental impact on marine life.

The energy consumed through desalination accounts for a substantial portion of the costs associated with maintaining a desalination plant. The energy costs can be between 30-50% percent of the total cost of the produced water.27 A steady-state can be met by approaching energy consumption through either hybrid energy sources - such as mixing potash (potassium bearing minerals and chemicals) or thermal with hydro energy - or by using Energy Recovery Devices to reduce the overall energy consumption.28 In choosing an appropriate energy source, both the PA and the PWA will need to evaluate the economic feasibility and sustainability of energy sources. As Gaza has been mostly reliant on Israel for energy since 1967, relying on the Gazan electricity grid would require at least 40% of Gaza’s entire grid supply and cost around $0.125/ kWh.29 This is certainly a high cost; however, relying solely on Israel is likely to be politically fraught and would impede full autonomy. Therefore, it is of great importance, especially at the early stages, that Gazan authorities work with international experts and Israel

25

Tomas M. Missimer and Robert G. Maliva, “Environmental Issues in Seawater Reverse Osmosis Desalination: Intakes and Outfalls,” Desalination 434 (2018): 203.

26 Husam Baalousha, Desalination Status in the Gaza Strip and its Environmental Impact,” Desalination 196 (2006): 8-9.

27 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.

28 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.; Alanood A. Alsarayreh et al., “Evaluation,” 2.

29 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.

to develop an energy plan, and then transition to full autonomy as regulatory capacity improves.

Local Political Concerns: The PA and PWA In light of these organizational and political concerns, I have preliminarily located the new desalination plant on the coast in central Gaza, next to Deir al-Balah and pre-existing, sub-optimal desalination plants.30 In general, this location is optimal for reaching a steadystate in operations. Gaza’s high population density and subsequent high land cost are key factors explaining this location’s viability.31 The existing plants will be upgraded. By reusing existing pipelines, the new facility will be connected to the old plants and have a new well connecting it to the Mediterranean Sea. Moreover, the plant will have three collection areas: one for groundwater (to hold water from Coastal Aquifer), one for sewage and wastewater, and one for seawater.

The plant’s coastal location will make use of well intake systems which are more environmentally friendly and cost-effective. Regarding energy consumption, the existing plants operate for only eight hours a day..

That level of operation is not sufficient to mitigate the operational costs of desalination.32 Thus, the proposed desalination plant should run for twenty-four hours a day to reach the optimal steady state between energy consumption and cost-effectiveness. The actual operation of the plant will rest in the hands of the PWA, and successful execution necessitates strong regulatory capacity as well as cross-divisional cooperation between various government departments.33 There are several political considerations which point to environmental and organizational limitations to this plan. For example, Hamas and the PA consistently battle over civil and political control of Gazam, leading to deep social divisions, inadequate provision of fundamental goods and services, and a lack of regulatory capacity. The overwhelming lack of political coordination and efficiency is a systemic failure which affects wastewater management as well as drinking water purification, and thus is a barrier to achieving the even-

See Figure 2.

Baalousha, “Desalination Status”, 8.

32 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.

33 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.

30 31

Clark | 105 tual “steady-state” in operations. However, it would be unwise for international bodies or Israel to wholly fund the creation of potable drinking water in Gaza.

Att some stage, Hamas needs to participate, thereby taking steps to increase its regulatory capacity beyond terrorism. There are only seven PWA operated/licensed desalination plants and at least eighteen private commercially owned and operated ones.34 There is a lack of government supervision, meaning that there is no state-wide regulation of non-state-owned desalinated water, and private owners can avoid meeting the WHO’s standards. Thus, a new PWA program needs to be implemented to evaluate these private plants and assess their environmental impact. Afterwards, these small plants will hopefully be in a position to supplement the new central desalination plant, further increasing the amount of potable water available.

These political issues are compounded since there is little public awareness of the private plants’ poor water quality. For the most part, Gazans who currently attempt to purify their water with at-home RO systems are unaware of the chemical build up on RO filters, and infrequently change the membrane. The lack of regulation around such practices leads to contaminated water that has the potential to cause adverse health effects and bacterial infections.35 Overall, there are a variety of significant environmental and political issues that must be systematically addressed by stakeholders, academics, politicians, and project managers if a largescale desalination plant (such as one proposed in this paper) is to succeed in providing desalinated water to Gazans in the long term.

Considerations Regarding Timeline and Funding Due to the large-scale nature of implementing a centralized desalination plant in an unstable and politically inefficient country, the project will be completed in phases. In these circumstances, phasing will allow the PWA to expand as needed while also monitoring desalination’s effectiveness. According to a World

Bank report, Gaza will require at least 135 million cubic metres (mcm)/year of potable water for domestic use in 2030; however, without a central desalination plant, their supply will only be 56 mcm/year.36 Including agricultural needs, the estimated demand for water hovers around 260 mcm/year.37 Thus, the decade from 2020-2030 is a critical window for improvement and change. However, it is necessary to note that the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic will prove to be a significant challenge to the viability of this project. Thus, the estimated timeline and associated projections that various stakeholders made prior to 2020 are assumed to be no longer achievable.

Working off Nahed Ghbn’s research, the plant should ultimately have the capacity to pump 150,000 m3/day.38 When supplemented with the existing (and improved) private plants, it should equal a positive water balance for Gaza. At its opening, the facility will have the ability to pump 50,000 m3/day. This is a feasible amount to start. Prior to recent political instability which stalled the project, USAID agreed to finance and design a major RO plant with the capacity of 60,000m3/day.39 The timeline for opening is currently in flux due to the impact of COVID-19, but due to the lack of potable water, post-pandemic, making headway on this project should be a government priority. The facility’s pumping ability will then incrementally increase, first by doubling to 100,000 m3/day and then adding an additional 50,000 m3/day in 2030. After desalination, the water will travel through existing tanker infrastructure which municipalities, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and public initiatives can provide.40 Gazans will be able to access these communal tanks free of charge and in the long-term potable tap water will be more broadly accessible throughout the country, through the Associated Works program.41 During the implementation

36

World Bank, Securing Water for Development in West Bank and Gaza (Washington, DC: World Bank, 2018), 2.

37

Nahed Ghbn, “The Coming Age of Desalination for Gaza,” in Water Wisdom, eds. Alon Tal and Alfred Abed Rabbo (New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 2010), 232.

34

Mohammad R. Al-Agha and Rafat Sh. Mortaja, “Desalination in the Gaza Strip: Drinking Water Supply and Environmental Impact,” Desalination 173 (2005): 162; Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 9.

35 Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 10.

Ghbn, “The Coming Age of Desalination for Gaza,” 234.

Ghbn, “The Coming Age of Desalination for Gaza,” 234.

40 Al-Agha and Mortaja, “Desalination in the Gaza Strip,” 165.

41 Palestinian Water Authority, Gaza Central Desalination Plant & Associate Works Program, State of Palestine (2018): 10. The 38 39

Clark | 106 process, the PWA will be responsible for continuous environmental evaluation of the surrounding seawater, as well as mandatory testing of all desalinated water in the post-treatment phase. This objective will help to determine the presence of organic compounds and levels of salt and minerals present after RO. The first step in the plan would be for the PWA to set up a specific division of experts on desalination. Numerous reports have indicated the environmental impact of desalination; thus, sustainability is a primary concern.42 Their division’s first step would be to conduct an environmental impact assessment for Gaza and the Mediterranean Sea. The experts would then survey the existing Deir al-Balah plant and new construction for a seawater intake well would commence. The PWA will need to work with the WHO to meet the most modern potable water standards. In doing so, they will contract work to researchers, scientists, and desalination engineers who will create comprehensive plans for brine and chemical disposal, as well as strategies to prevent further groundwater erosion.

While the first phase of the desalination plant is under construction, the PWA still needs to address the lack of clean drinking water. This should be undertaken through multiple public-private initiatives, such as expanding educational campaigns, providing communal, small-scale RO filters, and investing more broadly in new technologies . To mitigate further health risks, the PWA must operate a public information campaign, employing canvassers to go door-to-door. The PWAled campaign will also address how long at-home RO filter membranes last and the health risks associated with overusing membranes.

A possible interim solution may come from technological advancements like Watergen. In January 2021, Watergen, an Israeli tech company, donated two solar machines to Gaza.43 The solar machines are designed

Associate Works program consists of a 42.5 km North-South carrier line extension to improve water supply across the 25 municipalities in the Territory.

42 Al-Agha and Mortaja, “Desalination in the Gaza Strip,” 170; Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 5.

43 Guillaume Lavallée, “Israeli Firm Helps Provide Gaza with Clean Water – By Extracting it From the Air,” The Times of Israel, January 5, 2021, https://www.timesofisrael.com/israeli-firmhelps-provide-gaza-with-clean-water-by-extracting-it-from-the-

to condense humidity in the air and filter it into immediately accessible clean drinking water. Ultimately, they are able to produce around 5,000 litres of water per day. While these machines cost $61,000 USD each, the company is dedicated to working with Gazan authorities.44 These machines are revolutionary in that they present a glimpse of a future solution to desalination’s environmental issues, especially in the present, where the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic has eclipsed timelines for large-scale facilities.

Such a massive project requires extensive funding and carries immediate large economic costs. The PWA has proposed a similar, smaller scale plan for its supporting agents in 2018, suggesting the cost of the plant, including energy, will be around EUR 562,000,000.45 This figure includes an operation subsidy of EUR 46,000,000 for the first five years as well.46 To date, organizations such as United States Agency for International Development (USAID)47, as well as the French and Austrian governments, have donated money for the initial plants.48 Both the WHO and the World Bank have pledged to fund the centralized addition. However, successful cooperation with Israel and its allies will be necessary to achieve the project’s full scale, especially as the PA and PWA’s preferred energy source for the initial phases of the project is the Israeli power grid.49 Furthermore, the PA and PWA’s proper management, coupled with the appropriate allocation of funds, will be instrumental in ensuring the plan’s long-term success in transitioning from a globally funded and managed operation into a fully autonomous desalination plant.

air/.

44 Lavallée, “Israeli.”

45 Palestinian Water Authority, Gaza Central Desalination Plant, 13.

46 Palestinian Water Authority, Gaza Central Desalination Plant, 13.

47 In 2019, USAID withdrew aid from any project involving Palestinian territories, Gaza, and the West Bank. However, the Biden Administration has announced plans to restore aid to Palestinians.

48 Ghbn, “The Coming Age of Desalination for Gaza,” 31.

49 Palestinian Water Authority, Gaza Central Desalination Plant, 11.

Clark | 107

Political Objections: Israel’s Crucial Role The Israeli government acts as the primary political objection to ensuring that Gazans have control over their water supply, due to their refusal to acknowledge any form of independent agency for Palestinians. Despite the requirement under international law dictating that neighbouring governments must collaborate over water resources, there is an ongoing communication breakdown between the parties. Israel insists on “unilateral management” over the Coastal Aquifer and other water supplies for Palestinians.50 Since the 2007 Battle of Gaza, Israel has maintained a blockade at the Gaza border, prohibiting resources from entering the territory. Unfortunately, this has led to numerous supply shortages and has exacerbated Gaza’s water crisis.51 Thus, the political objection is evident: if the Israeli government refuses to permit even trivial consumer goods to enter Gaza, it is difficult to see how the current political dynamic and policy would lead to the Israeli government authorizing the development of independent water infrastructure for Gazans.

The underlying environmental issue compounds the region’s political conflict. In general, the Middle East’s arid climate lacks sustainable water resources.

Not only is it in Israel’s interest to retain hydro-hegemony over the Coastal Aquifer to advantage its citizens, but the fact that Gaza is reliant on Israel serves a distinct political advantage for the Israeli state. As a “political weapon,” maintaining unilateral water control is just another way Israel can “dominate the Palestinians.”52 For example, because aquaculture is one of Gaza’s main industries, wastewater contamination of the Mediterranean Sea harms marine life, undermines Gazan industries, and correspondingly reinforces Gaza’s dependence on Israel.53 Therefore, as Israel prefers to ignore Palestinian land claims, Israel’s interest in maintaining its aggressive settler-colonial rule is self-evident.

However, in the long run, autonomous water infrastructure for Gazans has the ability to benefit Israel.

Selby and Hoffman, “Water Scarcity,” 1007.

Selby and Hoffman, “Water Scarcity,” 1007.

52 Tadevosyan, “Hydro-Hegemony,” 87.

53 Tadevosyan, “Hydro-Hegemony,” 92.

50 51

Israel is currently subject to intense international scrutiny over their treatment of Palestinians. Critically referring to the Israeli state’s actions as a “water nakba,” scholars implore Israel’s blockade and their literal “dehydration” of Palestinian life - a clear extension of settler-colonialism.54 The impact of such controversy is evident: the primarily centre/left-leaning American Jewry is increasingly concerned about Israel’s policies towards Gaza, thereby leading to reduced monetary support. Today’s youth generation, who are more removed from the Holocaust, are less likely to accept and defend Israel without question. As such, the Israeli government’s systemic colonization of Palestinian’s is at odds with ‘millennials’ liberal-democratic leanings.55 Therefore, if Israel wishes to enjoy widespread support amongst Diaspora Jews and continue to build its population and economy through Diaspora Jews making Aliyah (Jewish immigration to the State of Israel), then Israel has a clear interest in attempting to resolve its conflict with Palestinians.56 Israel could see some practical benefits from working with Gaza to ensure water security. If the parties cooperate, and the desalination facility is successfully implemented, Israel will be in a good position to retain control over the entire Coastal Aquifer without political ramifications, and Gaza will no longer have to rely on Israel for its water supply, thereby enabling improved water management for Israel itself. In addition, this would alleviate international pressure on Israel. Permitting the autonomous desalination plant may have the added benefit of bringing the two parties to the bargaining table, restoring Israel’s international image as a principled political actor.

For the desalination facility to be built, joint cooperation is needed. Israel would have to partially lift its blockade so that essential materials could enter Gaza.

Moreover, Israel would need to open its border with

54

Zayned Al-Shalalfeh, Fiona Napier, and Eurig Scandrett, “Water Nakba in Palestine: Sustainable Development Goal 6 Versus Israeli Hydro-Hegemony,” Local Environment 23, no. 1 (2018): 122.

55 S.W. Litwin and J.A. Schancupp, “American Jewish Youth’s Attachment to Israel: Implications for Israeli Tourism,” International Journal of Business and Globalisation 17, no. 2 (2016): 1-2.

56 Immigration of Jews living outside of Israel to Israel.

Clark | 108 Gaza and the subsequent naval blockade to allow scientists, experts, and NGO workers in for construction.

This is also an opportunity for Israel to negotiate with the PA in a broader sense. For example, in the past, Israel and the PA have signed agreements, such as Oslo II Accords, which led to water compromises and coordinated usage of resources. In the 25 years since the Accords were signed, there has been little progress and the discussion on water rights has devolved into a political stalemate. A new agreement could be brokered in which Israel permits construction in return for benefits such as a permanent ceasefire or the release of political prisoners and army captives. Furthermore, Gaza wants to use Israeli power grid to supply the centralized plant with energy, at least in the short term.57 As this energy source is crucial to the plant’s functioning, Israel would still maintain a degree of control over Gaza. This reality provides Israel with additional bargaining power, allowing them to dictate the initial agreement and short-term planning to some extent.

Fundamentally, though there are complex political issues between Israelis and Palestinians, desalination presents an opportunity for shared coordination and development of mutual good will. A large-scale desalination plant will have direct environmental health benefits for the millions of Gazans in need, but would also help to mitigate Israel’s (often) negative public image, improving their legitimacy on the international political stage.

Conclusion Gaza needs a prompt and effective solution to its water crisis. Its rapidly growing population is wholly unsustainable in relation to the dire environmental circumstances it faces. In addition, Israel’s restriction on freedom of movement places an additional constraint on the region. In every sense, Gazans are entitled to the basic human right of clean water. Throughout this case study, I have presented what I see to be a feasible solution: the establishment of an eventually autonomous water supply mechanism for Gaza through a centralized desalination plant. It is accepted that this is a massive and complicated project. While a desali-

57

Baalousha, “Desalination Status,” 7.

nation plant is both energy and cost intensive, and undoubtedly has significant environmental impacts, the region’s arid climate and geopolitical conflicts make it the most viable solution to an otherwise intractable problem. The successful installation of such a system would reduce Gaza’s reliance on Israel and finally provide an adequate amount of drinking water for its residents. Unfortunately, the project is at odds with Israel’s settler-colonial rule of the Palestinian territories, as well as Israel’s policy denying Gazan’s right to autonomy. Recently, Israel has been content to abuse human rights in its pursuit of total hegemony. This approach must be overcome. Ultimately, without this practical solution, it is abundantly clear that the Gaza Strip will soon be uninhabitable, which does not bode well for Israel’s already impaired international image and the region’s geopolitical stability.

Clark | 109 Appendix Figure 1: Methods of Desalination

Image retrieved from: Christopher G. Reuther, “Saline Solutions: The Quest for Fresh Water,” Environmental Health Perspectives 108, no. 2 (February 2000): 79.

Figure 2: Proposed Location of New Desalination Plant

Clark | 110 Bibliography Al-Agha, Mohammad R. and Rafat Sh. Mortaja. “Desalination in the Gaza Strip: Drinking Water Supply and Environmental Impact.” Desalination 173 (2005): 157-171.

Alsarayreh, Alanood A., M.A. Al-Obaidi, A.M. Al-Hroub, R. Patel, and I.M. Mujtaba.

“Evaluation and Minimisation of Energy Consumption in a Medium-Scale Reverse Osmosis Brackish Water Desalination Plant.” Journal of Cleaner Production 248, no 1 (2020): 1-9.

Al-Shalalfeh, Zayned, Fiona Napier and Eurig Scandrett. “Water Nakba in Palestine: Sustainable Development Goal 6 Versus Israeli Hydro-Hegemony.” Local Environment 23, no. 1 (2018): 117-124.

Baalousha, Husam. “Desalination Status in the Gaza Strip and its Environmental Impact.” Desalination 196 (2006): 1-12.

Early, Catherine. “Waste Brine - Ecological Problem or Economic Opportunity.” China Ocean Dialogue, February 7, 2019.

“Egypt ‘Indefinitely’ Opens Rafah Border Crossing with Gaza Strip.” Al Jazeera, February 10, 2021, https:// www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/2/10/egypt-opens-rafah-border-crossing-with-blockaded-gaza-strip.

Ghbn, Nahed. “The Coming Age of Desalination for Gaza.” In Water Wisdom, edited by Alon Tal and Alfred Abed Rabbo. 229-237. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 2010.

Gray, Ellen. “Drought in Eastern Mediterranean Worst in 900 Years.,” National Aeronautics and Space. Administration (NASA), March 1, 2016. http://www.nasa.gov/feature/goddard/2016/nasa-finds-drought-in-easternmediterranean-worst-of-past-900-years Jones, Edward, Manzoor Qadir, Michelle T.H. van Vliet, Vladimir Smakhtin, and Seong-mu Kang. “The State of Desalination and Brine Production: A Global Outlook.” Science of The Total Environment 657 (March 2019): 1343–56. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.scitotenv.2018.12.076.

Koontz, Brett, and Thomas Hatfield. “Special Report.” Journal of Environmental Health 79, no. 4 (November 2016): 28-33.

Lavallée, Guillaume. “Israeli Firm Helps Provide Gaza with Clean Water – By Extracting it From the Air,” The Times of Israel, January 5, 2021, https://www.timesofisrael.com/israeli-firm-helps-provide-gaza-with-clean-water-by-extracting-it-from-the-air/.

Lazaro, Fred de Sam. “Water Crisis May make Gaza Strip Uninhabitable by 2020.” PBS News Hour, January 1, 2019. https://www.pbs.org/newshour/show/water-crisis-may-make-gaza-strip-uninhabitable-by-2020.

Litwin, S.W. and J.A. Schancupp, “American Jewish Youth’s Attachment to Israel: Implications for Israeli Tourism,” International Journal of Business and Globalisation 17, no. 2 (2016): 189-204.

Missimer, Tomas M., and Robert G. Maliva. “Environmental Issues in Seawater Reverse Osmosis Desalination: Intakes and Outfalls.” Desalination 434 (2018): 198-215.

Clark | 111

Mock, Steve, Amer Obeidi, and John Zeleznikow. “A Brief Outline of the Israel–Palestinian Conflict,” Group Decision and Negotiation 23 (2014): 1245-1262. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10726-012-9293-7.

Palestinian Water Authority, Gaza Central Desalination Plant & Associate Works Program, State of Palestine (2018): 1-27.

Reuther, Christopher G. “Saline Solutions: The Quest for Fresh Water.” Environmental Health Perspectives 108, no. 2 (February 2000): 78-80.

Selby, Jan and Clemens Hoffman. “Water Scarcity, Conflict, and Migration: A Comparative Analysis and Reappraisal.” Environment and Planning C: Government and Policy 30 (2012): 997-1014.

Tadevosyan, Shoghik. “Hydro-Hegemony in Action: The Problem of Water in the Israel-Palestinian Conflict.”

Contemporary Eurasia 8, no. 2 (2019): 82-104.

Tal, Alon. “The Evolution of Israeli Water Management: The Elusive Search for Environmental Security,” In Water Security in the Middle East: Essays in Scientific and Social Cooperation, edited by Jean Axelrad Cahan, 125–44.

United Nations. Gaza in 2020: A Liveable Place. Jerusalem: Office of the United Nations Special Coordinator for the Middle East Peace Process, 2012.

Wienthal, E., A. Vengosh, A. Marei, A. Guttierez, and W. Kloppmann, “The Water Crisis in the Gaza Strip: Prospects for Resolution.” Ground Water 43, no. 5 (September-October 2005): 653-660.

World Bank. Securing Water for Development in West Bank and Gaza. Washington DC: World Bank, 2018.

Abramova, Gaudreau, Ghom & Weinstein-Wright | 113 Abstract Every year, the External portfolio of the IDSSA supervises the International Development Policy Case Competition (IDPCC), McGill University’s first interdisciplinary policy-building case competition that focuses on development issues. As a journal showcasing the most compelling undergraduate research taking place at McGill, Chrysalis typically published the competition’s winning policy brief.

However, due to a reconfiguring of the IDPCC timeline, the past two years have not been able to feature a collaboration with the competition. As this year’s Editor-in-Chief, I am proud to bring back the IDPCC’s winning team to our journal. The 2021 edition of the case competition was supervised by the VP External, Will Croke-Martin, in collaboration with the McGill Policy Association (MPA), on the theme of housing and standards of living. The winning team presented “Project Brighten”, a solar panel project aiming to improve access to electricity services in the slums of Mumbai.

Résumé Chaque année, le portfolio externe de l’IDSSA supervise le Concours d’Études de Cas sur les Politiques de Développement International (IDPCC), le premier concours interdisciplinaire au sein de l’Université McGill axé sur les questions de développement. En tant que revue présentant les travaux de recherche les plus remarquables menés à McGill, Chrysalis publiait généralement le dossier politique gagnant du concours. Toutefois, en raison d’une reconfiguration du calendrier de l’IDPCC, les deux dernières années n’ont pas été marquées par une collaboration avec le concours.

Cependant, en tant que votre rédacteur-en-chef cette année, je suis fier de ramener l’équipe gagnante de l’IDPCC dans notre journal. L’édition 2021 du concours de cas a été supervisée par le VP aux affaires externes, Will Croke-Martin, en collaboration avec la McGill Policy Association (MPA), sur le thème du logement et du niveau de vie. L’équipe gagnante a présenté “Project Brighten,” un projet de panneaux solaires visant à améliorer l’accès aux services d’électricité dans les bidonvilles de Mumbai.

Abramova, Gaudreau, Ghom & Weinstein-Wright | 114 The Problem Poor Electricity Services in Urban Slums in Mumbai The lack of reliable and affordable access to electricity is a significant challenge affecting slum dwellers across Mumbai: the city’s slums are characterized by insecure residential status, poorly built housing, and overcrowding.1 In this context, slum dwellers either do not have electricity, share a meter with a neighbor, or illegally acquire electricity through cartels.2 Nonetheless, the prevalence of illegally-sourced electricity in slums has more costs than benefits. Indeed, cartels generally (1) inflate the electricity prices, (2) disregard safety protocols resulting in a higher risk for electrocution and/or fires, and (3) overload the main network.3 With the projected population growth of Mumbai in the coming years, the energy demand is likely to drastically increase.4 Therefore, finding an affordable and sustainable solution to this problem is crucial.

Supply and Demand Side Challenges Supply side challenges such as lack of house ownership status, address invalidity, and precarious housing construction result in slum dwellers’ inability to access improved electricity. Demand side challenges include both tangible and intangible factors, such as the price (cost of connection and consumption fees) and fear of retaliation from local leaders, respectively. The resulting situation means low demand for improved electricity, thus the illegal provision of electricity through unlicensed electricians and local cartels. Indeed, the problem of both these challenges is that the price of electricity is inflated, there are immense safety issues, and the main network, which serves both formal and informal electricity connections, is overloaded.

The Solution Project Brighten Project Brighten seeks to provide slum dwellers with safe, affordable, and sustainable access to electricity

1

Mimmi, Luisa M. 2014. "From informal to authorized electricity service in urban slums: Findings from a household level survey in Mumbai." (Energy for Sustainable Development), 66 2 Mimmi, 66 3 Mimmi, 66-67 4 Mumbai Population 2021 (Demographics, Maps, Graphs).

2021. World Population Review

through the promotion of solar energy. India has an incredible capacity for solar energy production since the country receives nearly 300 days of sunshine per year.5 Additionally, there is significant potential for rooftop solar as most of the structures are of a low-height with a more horizontal spread.6 The scope of the initiative will cover the Dharavi slum of Mumbai.

Implementation Process Project Brighten seeks to address both demand and supply-side issues related to the adoption of solar energy solutions.

Phase One (1 year) Conduct an initial market assessment in Dharavi and design a business model to ensure successful adoption of the solar industry and to increase social development.

Phase Two (1 year) Provide technical resources and skills training to local entrepreneurs and small and medium enterprises (SMEs) within the pre-existing solar industry.

Phase Three (1 year) Develop and deliver outreach and awareness activities to highlight the health and environmental benefits of solar energy.

Phase Four (2 years) Work with local entrepreneurs and SMEs to provide selected households with solar panels to stimulate the baseline market. Households who make their livelihood/income-generating activities within the home will be prioritized.

Phase Five (2 years) Assist with the development of financial mechanisms to facilitate the acquisition of solar panels by slum dwellers in the future. Potential models for these include households paying an initial down payment for the product, and subsequently selling their excess solar energy to pay back money owed.

5

Shukla, Akash Kumar et al. 2018. "Solar PV and BIPV system : Barrier, challenges and policy recommendation in India." (Renewable and Sustainable Energy Reviews, Elsevier, vol. 82(P3)), 3314 6 Banerjee, Rangan, and Rhythm Singh. 2015. "Estimation of rooftop solar photovoltaic potential of a city." (Solar Energy, Elsevier), 589

Abramova, Gaudreau, Ghom & Weinstein-Wright | 115

Stakeholders The Mumbai Branch of the Centre for Science and Environment (CSE) is non-profit public interest research and advocacy organization.7 The CSE will play a key role in Phase One, as it will help conduct a detailed and objective evaluation of the potential for solar energy in Dharavi.8 The National Slum Dwellers Federation (NSDF) and the Sadak Chhap (Street Children’s Federation) are large non-governmental organizations (NGOs) based in Mumbai who will play crucial roles in Phase Three, as they can help conduct awareness activities and outreach with slum dwellers. They will be able to communicate local electricity needs and ensure the intervention reflects local demands.

Sun King is a pre-existing solar energy business based in India. We seek to invest and work with them, and other similar companies, to distribute safe and affordable solar power to households, as outlined in Phase Two. This partnership will also increase local jobs significantly.

Mahila Milan is a “decentralized network of poor women’s collectives that manage credit and savings activities in their communities”.9 We will partner with them to ensure Phase Five meets local financial demands and ensures household agency.

India’s Ministry of Power will be involved throughout the entire project and will provide guidance and support. They will help us understand the obstacles and successes of past interventions to ensure a successful long-term transition towards solar energy.

Inhabitants of Dharavi are the stakeholders who will be most affected by this intervention. As such, their voices must be elevated throughout each phase of the project. Their needs will be communicated to Global Affairs Canada through the numerous local stakeholders involved in the project.

7

Centre for Science and Environment. 2012. Center for Science

and Environment India.

8 Ibid 9 Mahila Milan. 2014. Sparc India.

Budget Total Budget: $25,000,000 CAD

Potential Barriers Potential barriers to Project Brighten stem from the fact that slums are inherently atypical markets characterized by theft, informality, social exclusion, information asymmetries, and low collection rates. Firstly, to combat theft, we plan on installing the solar panels with theft-proof screws which cannot be unmounted unless special tools are used. Alternatively, panel-embedded smart electronic chips will be used, which lock the panel the moment it is dislodged. Secondly, to address informality and social exclusion, we plan on recognizing the salience of informal interactions by identifying and integrating local leaders into our solution

Abramova, Gaudreau, Ghom & Weinstein-Wright | 116 based on trust, especially those who can influence the decision to switch to solar panels. Thirdly, information asymmetries should be prevented by Phase Three of our initiative, which focuses on outreach and awareness activities through locals’ voices and experiences.

Finally, low collection rates should be prevented by Phase Five of our initiative, which focuses on micro-financial mechanisms that promote agency and growth of financial capacities.

Looking Forward Indicators After five years, we will use various indicators to measure Project Brighten’s success. We will conduct a variety of quantitative and qualitative studies to determine whether these variables have been met.

According to UN-Energy, improved energy access should have a positive effect on development indicators, including, well-being, health, and income genertion opportunities.10 Therefore, we will use a quantitative analysis method of Randomized Control Trials (RCTs) to examine, life expectancy, school enrollment, number of respiratory illnesses, and income.

Additionally, we will also use qualitative analyses to capture feedback that cannot be measured in numbers.

These analyses will be in the form of surveys and interviews with households that are using solar energy.

Sample questions from this survey will include: “On a scale of 1 to 5, how much do you feel solar energy has positively impacted your life?”

“On a scale of 1 to 5, how do you feel about the air quality in your home?”

“On a scale of 1 to 5, how likely are you to purchase another solar panel for your home?”

“On a scale of 1 to 5, how likely are you to recommend having a solar panel in your home?”

Expanding the Program Contingent on the success of Project Brighten in Dharavi, a similar business/development model will be expanded to more slums in Mumbai.

10

Mimmi, 66

Abramova, Gaudreau, Ghom & Weinstein-Wright | 117

Works Cited Alderslade, Jamie, John Talmage, and Yusef Freeman. 2006. Measuring the Informal Economy One Neighborhood At A Time. Discussion Paper, The Brookings Institution Metropolitan Policy Program.

Average size of slum households in India in 2001 and 2011. 2020. Statista. October 16. Accessed February 12, 2021. https://www.statista.com/statistics/619587/average-slum-household-size-india/.

Banerjee, Rangan, and Rhythm Singh. 2015. “Estimation of rooftop solar photovoltaic potential of a city.” Solar Energy (Elsevier) 115.

Centre for Science and Environment. 2012. Center for Science and Environment India. https://www.cseindia.org/.

Global Affairs Canada. 2021. Government of Canada | Global Affairs Canada. Accessed February 2021. https:// www.international.gc.ca/global-affairs-affaires-mondiales/home-accueil.aspx?lang=eng.

Kamper, Helena. 2017. 10 FACTS ABOUT MUMBAI SLUMS. The Borgen Project. April 21. Accessed February 12, 2021. https://borgenproject.org/10-facts-mumbai-slums/.

Kay, Ethan. 2012. Saving lives through clean cookstoves. [Video] Filmed at TEDx Montreal.

Mahila Milan. 2014. Sparc India. Accessed Februrary 12, 2021. https://www.sparcindia.org/aboutmm.php.

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Meet the Editorial Board Robin Vochelet is in his fourth and final year at McGill University, where he pursued an Honours B.A. in International Development Studies with a minor in Political Science. After working as an editor for Chrysalis for 2 years, he became the Vice-President of Publications for the IDSSA, serving as the Editor-in-Chief of both Chrysalis and Catalyst. He has a particular interest in the politics of democracy in the Asia-Pacific region, specifically as they pertain to China, Japan, and Singapore. After McGill, he will move on to pursue a Master of International Affairs at the National University of Singapore.

Zachary Beresin is in his third year at McGill University, pursuing a Joint Honours degree in International Development and Geography. This is his first year serving as an editor for Chrysalis, previously working as a peer reviewer for the publication. Zachary concurrently serves as an editor for the IDSSA’s online publication Catalyst. His interests include a mix of urban planning, sustainability, and geopolitics.

Karen Kimata is in her fourth and final year at McGill, double majoring in International Development and Urban Studies, with a minor in East Asian Studies. She is particularly interested in women’s rights, as well as sustainability and planned cities in the Global South. Karen has been very involved on campus, mainly with AIESEC in McGill and Ashinaga for over two years. She aspires to continue studying within the field of international development and hopes to pursue a career working for international organizations related to human rights.

Emma-Jane Ni is in her third year at McGill University, pursuing a Joint Honours degree in Political Science and International Development, with a minor in Russian Language. This is her first year working with the IDSSA and Chrysalis. Emma is particularly interested in authoritarian and international politics, as well as all things political and development-related in the Asia-Pacific – more specifically, Chinese foreign policy and its intersections in Southeast Asia. She hopes to continue studying within these fields post-graduation Max Shapiro is in his fourth and final year at McGill University, completing a Joint Honours degree in International Development and Political Science. He has been a member of the Chrysalis team for three years, first participating as a peer reviewer for one year and then serving as an editor for two.

Max’s academic and policy interests include the politics of international law and global governance, refugee and immigrant issues, and US foreign policy. Following McGill, Max hopes to pursue a law degree in the United States, with the ultimate aspiration of becoming an immigration lawyer in the New York area.

Isabella Tortone is in her third year at McGill University, pursuing a double major in International Development and Economics, with a minor in Computer Science. This is her first year as an editor for the Chrysalis team. She is interested in development politics and international economic relationships specifically in Latin America. She aspires to continue studying and pursue a career in these fields.

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Sophie Wirzba is in her fourth and final year at McGill, pursuing a Joint Honours degree in International Development and Political Science. This is her third year working with the IDSSA publications team, participating as a peer reviewer for one year and an editor for two. Sophie is passionate about the interdisciplinary study of environmental and social issues (particularly in the context of ongoing and post-colonialism), and hopes to find work at these intersections post-graduation, as well as eventually pursue a Masters degree in this area.

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Rencontre avec les éditeurs Robin Vochelet est en quatrième et dernière année à l'Université McGill, où il poursuit un baccalauréat spécialisé en études du développement international avec une mineure en sciences politiques.

Après avoir travaillé comme éditeur pour Chrysalis pendant deux ans, il est devenu Vice-Président des Publications de l'IDSSA, en tant que rédacteur-en-chef de Chrysalis et de Catalyst. Il s'intéresse tout particulièrement aux politiques de la démocratie dans la région Asie-Pacifique, notamment en ce qui concerne la Chine, le Japon et Singapour. Après McGill, il poursuivra un Master en Relations Internationales à l'Université Nationale de Singapour.

Zachary Beresin est en troisième année à l'Université McGill, où il poursuit un baccalauréat bidisciplinaire en études du développement international et en géographie. C'est sa première année en tant qu’éditeur pour Chrysalis, ayant auparavant travaillé dans le comité éditeur-réviseur de la publication. Zachary est également rédacteur en chef de la publication en ligne de l'IDSSA, Catalyst. Il s'intéresse à un mélange d'urbanisme, de durabilité et de géopolitique.

Karen Kimata est en quatrième et dernière année à l’Université McGill, où elle poursuit un baccalauréat bidisciplinaire en études du développement international et en études urbaines, et une mineure en études de l'Asie de l'Est. Elle s'intéresse particulièrement aux droits des femmes, ainsi qu'à la durabilité et aux communautés planifiées dans les pays du Sud. Karen est très impliquée sur le campus, principalement avec l'AIESEC à McGill et Ashinaga depuis plus de deux ans. Elle aspire à poursuivre ses études dans le domaine du développement international et espère faire carrière au sein d'organisations internationales liées aux droits de l'homme.

Emma-Jane Ni est en troisième année à l'Université McGill, où elle poursuit un baccalauréat bidisciplinaire en sciences politiques et en études du développement international, avec une mineure en langue russe. C'est la première année qu'elle travaille avec l’IDSSA et Chrysalis. Emma s'intéresse particulièrement à la politique autoritaire et internationale, ainsi qu'à tout ce qui touche à la politique et au développement dans la région Asie-Pacifique - plus précisément, à la politique étrangère chinoise et à ses intersections en Asie du Sud-Est. Elle espère continuer à étudier dans ces domaines après l'obtention de son diplôme universitaire.

Max Shapiro est dans sa quatrième et dernière année à l’Université McGill où il poursuit un baccalauréat spécialisé en développement international ainsi qu’en science politique. Il est un membre actif au sein du groupe Chrysalis depuis près de 3 ans. Il a travaillé en tant que réviseur pendant 1 an, et a progressé afin de devenir éditeur durant les deux dernières années. Les intérêts universitaires de Max comprennent la politique du droit international et de la gouvernance mondiale, les questions relatives aux réfugiés et aux immigrants ainsi que les politiques étrangères spécifiques aux États-Unis. Après son parcours académique à McGill, Max espère poursuivre ses études en droit aux États-Unis avec l’aspiration ultime de devenir avocat spécialisé en droit de l’immigration dans la région de New York.

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Isabella Tortone est dans sa troisième année à l’Université McGill où elle poursuit un baccalauréat bidisciplinaire en développement international et économie ainsi qu’un mineur en science informatique. C'est sa première année en tant qu’éditrice pour l’équipe de Chrysalis. Elle s’intéresse aux politiques de développement et aux relations économiques internationales et particulièrement en Amérique Latine. Elle aspire à poursuivre ses études et sa carrière dans ce domaine.

Sophie Wirzba est dans sa quatrième et dernière année à l’Université McGill où elle poursuit un baccalauréat bidisciplinaire en développement international et en science politique. Il s’agit de sa troisième année travaillant au côté de l’équipe des publications de IDSSA, ayant participé en tant que réviseure pendant 1 an et étant éditrice depuis 2 ans. Sophie est passionnée par l’étude interdisciplinaire des questions environnementales et sociales (particulièrement dans le contexte du postcolonialisme) et espère trouver du travail à ces intersections après l’obtention de son diplôme, et aimerait éventuellement poursuivre au niveau d’étude supérieur dans ce domaine.

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Submission & Review Process Chrysalis accepts manuscripts in either English or French from undergraduate students belonging to any faculty or major, provided they offer original insight into international development, which includes topics pertaining to Indigenous issues in Canada. Eligible manuscripts are required to be from a class at the 300-level or above.

Manuscripts are accepted in two rounds through December and January. After each round, the Editorial Board convenes to select manuscripts for publication. The selection process is done in anonymity: all identification markers are removed from the submissions by the Editor-in-Chief, who does not have voting power during the selection process to ensure a fair and equitable selection.

Selected manuscripts are then sent to selected advanced undergraduates who conduct official peer reviews under the guidance of Faculty members. Once the peer reviews are submitted, the authors are expected to incorporate their feedback into the manuscripts before the editing process.

Each submission is assigned to a copy editor who liaises with the author to prepare the manuscript for publication through two successive rounds of edits.

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Processus de soumission de textes et de révision Les étudiants de premier cycle provenant de toutes les facultés peuvent soumettre des textes en Anglais ou en Français au journal Chrysalis, qui accepte des articles touchant le développement international incluant des sujets relatifs aux questions autochtones au Canada. Les textes soumis doivent provenir des cours de niveau 300 ou supérieurs.

Les articles passent par deux tris de sélections qui ont lieu en décembre et en janvier, après chacun d'eux le comité éditorial fait le choix de celles qui seront publiées. Ce processus est anonyme.

Afin d’assurer un processus équitable et juste par le comité de sélection l’identification des articles est enlevée par l’éditrice en chef, qui n’a pas droit de vote lors de la sélection des articles par le comité éditorial Les articles choisis sont acheminés à un comité d’étudiants en fin de premier cycle, qui lui s’assure que ces articles vont être en accord avec une ligne éditoriale. Lorsque cette révision est soumise les autrices et auteurs peuvent espérer recevoir une rétroaction à propos de leurs textes avant d’être édités. Chacun des textes qui sera édité se verra assigné à un éditeur-réviseur qui fera le lien avec les auteurs pour préparer la publication.