Chrysalis Spring 2025 Issue

Chrysalis

VOL. 17

SPRING 2025

Spring | 2025 | Printemps Vol. XVII The Journal of the International Development Studies Students’ Association of McGill University Le journal de l’association des étudiant.e.s en développement international de l’Université McGill

Chrysalis is annually published by the International Development Studies Students’ Association (IDSSA) of McGill University in Montreal, Canada.

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.

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

Les opinions présentées dans Chrysalis représentent celles des auteur.rice.s et des contributeur.rice.s, et non celles des éditeur.rice.s, de l’AEDI ou de l’Université McGill.

Land acknowledgement McGill University is situated on land that has long been a site of meeting and exchange among Indigenous peoples. Today, we are in Tiohtià:ke (Montreal), on the larger Turtle Island (North America). We recognize that we are on unceded traditional territory, where 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. We acknowledge the enduring presence and resilience of Indigenous peoples and their cultures and commit to working toward reconciliation and decolonization. It is important that we remain mindful of this history and context, and actively resist neocolonialism in all its forms.

Reconnaissance des terres L’Université McGill est située sur des terres qui ont longtemps servi de lieu de rassemblement et d’échange entre les peuples autochtones. Nous résidons actuellement à Tiohtià:ke (Montréal) qui est située sur la plus grande Île de la Tortue (Amérique du Nord). Nous reconnaissons que nous nous sommes rassemblé.es sur un territoire traditionnel non cédé où les nations Haudenosaunee et Anishinabeg, en particulier les peuples Kanien’kehá:ka, également connus comme les gardien.nes de la porte de l’Est, sont les gardien.nes traditionnel.les de ces terres et de ces eaux. Nous reconnaissons la présence durable et la résilience des peuples autochtones et de leurs cultures. Nous nous engageons à œuvrer à la réconciliation et la décolonisation. Il est important que nous restions conscient.es de cette histoire et de ce contexte, et que nous résistions activement au néo-colonialisme sous toutes ses formes.

Our Team | Notre Équipe EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | RÉDACTRICE EN CHEF THELMA GAUTHIER IDSSA | AEDI VP PUBLICATIONS SOPHIA OCANA LAYOUT EDITOR | DIRECTRICE DE MISE EN PAGE ANASTASIA VAN RYSWYK AUTHORS | AUTEURS LARA CEVASCO NOEMI JACQUEMET ANNE EMILIE DEMAISON IONA RIGA LUCIA COLINDRES CRUZ GABRIELA FLASCHBERGER NANAMI HARUYAMA SASHA UTKINA WENDY LIN EDITORS | ÉDITEURS HANNA HIPOLITO LILA BRUUN ELISE BLANCHET GABRIELLE CHEN ALEXANDRIA SASSO EVA RAJZMAN 1

Editor’s note Dear Readers, It is with great pleasure and pride that we present the 17th edition of Chrysalis.

Creating this journal throughout the school year has been an enriching and formative experience.

Despite the challenges we encountered, collaboration and teamwork have paid off. I would like to extend special thanks to the authors for the quality of their work, the editors for their diligence, as well as to Anastasia, who designed the entire layout of the journal, and to Sophia, VP Publications, for her invaluable support.

These high-quality articles aim to educate and encourage reflection on the world around us, in a university like McGill that nurtures our intellectual curiosity. They invite us to explore issues related to the social sciences with the rigor and methodology that an academic environment demands.

Thank you all, and happy reading!

Mot du redacteur en chef Cher lectorat, C’est avec beaucoup de plaisir et de fierté que nous vous présentons la 17e édition de Chrysalis.

Réaliser un journal tout au long de l’année scolaire a été un travail enrichissant et formateur.

Malgré les difficultés rencontrées, la collaboration et le travail d’équipe ont porté leurs fruits. Je souhaite adresser des remerciements particuliers aux auteurs pour la qualité de leurs travaux, aux éditeurs pour leur rigueur, ainsi qu'à Anastasia qui a mis en place toute la mise en page du journal, et à Sophia, VP Publications, pour son aide précieuse.

Ces articles de qualité visent à éduquer et à nourrir la réflexion sur le monde qui nous entoure, dans une université comme McGill qui cultive en nous la curiosité intellectuelle. Ils nous invitent à explorer des enjeux liés aux sciences sociales avec la rigueur et la méthode qu’impose un environnement académique exigeant.

Merci à tous, et bonne lecture !

EDITOR-IN-CHIEF | THELMA GAUTHIER

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Table of Contents 5

From Revolution to Reform: Contrasting AntiCorruption Outcomes in Ukraine and Georgia

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El Salvador - The Complicity of the State in the Normalization of Gender-Based Violence

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Migrants’ Rights Advocacy in the Philippines and Singapore: An Empirical and Comparative Case Study through the Norm Cycle Framework

Sasha Utkina

Anne-Émilie Demaison, Noemi Jacquemet, Lara Cevasco

Wendy Lin

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Legal Infantilization of Migrant Women: Deconstructing the Binaries of Care and Control

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Healing on a Bench: The Impact of Zimbabwe’s Friendship Bench on People Living with HIV

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Contested Acceptance: How Temporary Protected Status Limits the Socioeconomic Integration of Venezuelan Refugees in Colombia

Wendy Lin

Nanami Haruyama

Lucia Collindres Cruz

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51

Changing Landscapes: The Post-Industrial Restructuring and Gentrification of Saint-Henri

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How Canada Has Escaped Punishment for the Crime of Genocide

Gabriela Flaschberger

Iona Riga

Foreword It is my great pleasure to contribute a foreword to Chrysalis’ Spring 2025 edition. Chrysalis has long served as a very important undergraduate journal that covers a wide range of research questions and policy concerns in international development. Given the slim research and publication opportunities for undergraduates, Chrysalis provides a valuable platform for many excellent young scholars who are eager to share their research and insights.

The Spring 2025 edition features ten original articles that advance critical and analytical perspectives in the study of international development. These topics include: migration, forced displacement, health, gender-based violence, climate change, corruption, and land development. All these papers are grounded in specific empirical contexts and underexplored agendas. They demonstrate McGill IDS students’ high-quality research skills and their serious commitment to policy change and social justice. As an instructor of the IDS program, I am particularly delighted to see the positive synergies between faculty teaching and students’ research output.

Finally, I would like to congratulate Chrysalis' editorial team and the student peer reviewers who carefully read the articles, provided constructive comments to the contributors, and brought them together into a beautiful edition.

Kazue Takamura Senior Faculty Lecturer - Institute for the Study of International Development, McGill University

Avant-propos C'est avec un immense plaisir que je contribue à la préface de l'édition printanière 2025 de Chrysalis. Depuis longtemps, Chrysalis joue un rôle essentiel en tant que revue de premier plan pour les étudiants de premier cycle, abordant une vaste gamme de questions de recherche et de préoccupations politiques liées au développement international. Étant donné les rares opportunités de recherche et de publication pour les étudiants de premier cycle, Chrysalis constitue une plateforme précieuse pour de nombreux jeunes chercheurs talentueux, désireux de partager leurs travaux et réflexions.

L'édition du printemps 2025 présente huit articles originaux qui apportent des perspectives critiques et analytiques sur l'étude du développement international. Ces sujets incluent : la migration, les déplacements forcés, la santé, la violence fondée sur le genre, le changement climatique, la corruption et l’aménagement du territoire. Tous ces articles s'ancrent dans des contextes empiriques précis et explorent des thématiques souvent négligées. Ils témoignent de la rigueur des recherches menées par les étudiants du programme IDS de McGill ainsi que de leur profond engagement en faveur du changement politique et de la justice sociale. En tant qu'enseignante du programme IDS, je me réjouis tout particulièrement de constater les synergies positives entre l’enseignement dispensé par les professeurs et la qualité des travaux produits par les étudiants.

Enfin, je tiens à féliciter l'équipe éditoriale de Chrysalis ainsi que les étudiants réviseurs qui ont soigneusement lu les articles, fourni des commentaires constructifs aux auteurs et réuni ces contributions dans une édition remarquable.

Kazue Takamura Senior Faculty Lecturer - Institute for the Study of International Development, McGill University

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From Revolution to Reform: Contrasting AntiCorruption Outcomes in Ukraine and Georgia

By Sasha Utkina Abstract The early 2000s marked a period of political upheaval in Eastern Europe, driven by the color revolutions that promised democratic transformation. Ukraine and Georgia, both aiming for reform, sought to tackle entrenched corruption that had long hindered their development. This article compares the anti-corruption efforts of these two post-Soviet states, arguing that while civil society played a crucial role in pushing for change, it was not the sole determinant of success. Ukraine’s anti-corruption initiatives following the Orange Revolution and Euromaidan were hindered by political infighting and regional fragmentation, undermining reform efforts. In contrast, Georgia’s success under Saakashvili’s leadership was largely due to centralized power, a cohesive reform agenda, and the active role of technocratic elites. Through a comparative analysis, this article highlights how political structure, leadership, and government-civil society relations were key factors in the outcomes of anti-corruption campaigns, illustrating that strong civil society engagement, while important, is insufficient without political will and institutional reforms.

Résumé Les années 2000 ont été marquées par des bouleversements politiques en Europe de l'Est, stimulés par les révolutions de couleur qui ont prometté une transformation démocratique. L'Ukraine et la Géorgie, en quête de réformes, ont cherché à lutter contre la corruption enracinée qui entravait leur développement. Cet article compare les efforts de lutte contre la corruption dans ces deux États post-soviétiques, en soutenant que bien que la société civile ait joué un rôle crucial dans la promotion du changement, elle n'a pas été le seul facteur déterminant du succès. Les initiatives anticorruption de l'Ukraine après la Révolution Orange et l'Euromaidan ont été entravées par des luttes politiques internes et une fragmentation régionale, affaiblissant les efforts de réforme. En revanche, le succès de la Géorgie sous la direction de Saakashvili a été largement dû à la concentration du pouvoir, à une agenda réformatrice cohérente et au rôle actif des élites technocratiques. À travers une analyse comparative, cet article met en lumière la manière dont la structure politique, le leadership et les relations entre le gouvernement et la société civile ont été des facteurs clés dans les résultats des campagnes anticorruption, illustrant que l'engagement de la société civile, bien qu'important, est insuffisant sans une volonté politique et des réformes institutionnelles

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Introduction The early 2000s witnessed a wave of political upheaval across Eastern Europe, with the color revolutions catalyzing an era of potential democratic transformation. As Ukraine and Georgia stood ready for major reforms, they prioritized addressing the systemic corruption that had persistently hindered their political and economic development. These two countries serve as illuminating case studies, shedding light on the communist legacy in the former Soviet Union—a heritage characterized by endemic corruption and limited civic engagement.

Empowered by the revolutionary momentum, civil society actors assumed a leading role in these anti-corruption efforts, acting as norm entrepreneurs to reshape societal values and promote institutional changes. However, this essay argues that the divergent outcomes of anti-corruption efforts in Ukraine and Georgia demonstrate that while grassroots organizations and civic groups serve as crucial drivers for change, their impact alone is no panacea for combating corruption. The success of anti-corruption initiatives depends on an intricate interplay of factors, including decisive political leadership, institutional reforms, and the nature of government-civil society interactions. Indeed, while important, strong civil society engagement proved insufficient to eradicate deeply entrenched corruption.

The analysis begins with Ukraine's struggle with corruption reform in the aftermath of the Orange Revolution and the subsequent Euromaidan movement. The essay then examines Georgia's relative success story under Saakashvili's administration, exploring the key factors contributing to the country's transformation from a dysfunctional state to a leader in anti-corruption efforts. Finally, a comparative analysis of both cases examines the role of civil society, political leadership, institutional reforms, and the limitations of transnational advocacy networks in determining the outcomes of anti-corruption initiatives in these post-Soviet states.

Ukraine: Persistent Challenges to the Face of Revolutionary Aspirations Ukraine's struggle with widespread corruption is deeply entrenched, mirroring a shared challenge of post-Soviet states, with the enduring repercussions of the communist era providing the key to understanding the region's pervasive bribery and money laundering activities. Despite developing a substantial legislative framework against corruption after gaining independence, with 52 relevant laws and regulations by 2000 and more thereafter, its effectiveness remained severely limited. Chronic implementation failures, exacerbated by legislative immunity, compromised judicial independence, and poor cross-institutional coordination, undermined these efforts. This surge in futile regulations illustrates a fundamental challenge: the gap between official anti-corruption policies and their practical enforcement. Even despite numerous reform attempts, this soviet legacy has thus proven challenging to overcome.

Driven by frustration with this entrenched corruption and vote rigging, Ukraine's two pro-democracy movements were both fueled by public resentment against rampant corruption, which was viewed as a primary cause of economic underperformance and continued subservience to Russia.¹ The 2004 Orange Revolution marked a critical moment in independent Ukraine, igniting aspirations for far-reaching democratic changes.

This non violent mass protest, sparked by accusations of vote-rigging, propelled Viktor Yushchenko into power, accompanied by pledges of governmental transparency and principled governance. The initial fervor rapidly faded into disillusionment and set a pattern that would repeat itself in subsequent years, contributing substantially to a sense of dissatisfaction among the Ukrainian public. ¹ Kakachia, Makharadze, and Lebanidze, "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn," p. 292

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Similarly, the 2014 Revolution of Dignity showed some ephemeral promise as the newly elected President, Petro Poroshenko, introduced a novel and comprehensive anti corruption policy.² This ambitious approach mobilized the efforts of investigative journalists, civil society activists, and reformist government figures working in partnership with Western allies.³ However, political machinations quickly derailed the policy, with the president actively participating in its politicization. As a result, the initiative became embroiled in public disputes, internal factionalism, administrative failures, and deliberate obstruction.⁴ Over time, the once-vigorous advocacy for reform by the country's leaders diminished, with the parliamentary majority systematically passing laws that hinder anti corruption efforts. Political elites openly resisted any changes, fearing they would disrupt their long-standing business practices and power structures. This resistance is unsurprising, as effective anti-corruption measures often threaten government officials' unofficial income while increasing their vulnerability to legal prosecution and defamation.⁵ Such behavior is particularly evident in the context of Ukraine's turbulent post-Soviet politics, where state actors often perceive any norm entrepreneur's anti-corruption endeavors as jeopardizing the stability of incumbent power structures. Indeed, Ukrainian authorities actively work to weaken these actors beyond merely excluding civil society from anti corruption efforts—a practice observed globally. This hostility facilitates a vicious cycle: in response to government opposition, civil society actors increase their confrontational stance, discrediting official anticorruption initiatives and thereby confirming politicians' apprehensions, ultimately leading to a selfperpetuating pattern of mutual sabotage.⁷ Despite these challenges, the emerging anti-corruption system owes much to civil society's activism, as social organizations have shaped public opinion on corruption and led institutional and legal initiatives, such as specialized anti-corruption tribunals and transparent wealth reporting systems.⁸ Media and private sector actors are equally involved in direct actions to pressure state institutions.⁹ However, beneath this surface of activism lies a complex dynamic. Scott's concept of "hidden transcripts" reveals nuanced dynamics between the Ukrainian government and civil society in anti-corruption efforts, unveiling realities beneath the facade of public cooperation. This notion reveals a dual performance: civil society groups project compliance with government initiatives while scrutinizing true motives as officials demonstrate their supposed mastery of anti-corruption efforts.¹⁰ ² D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 248 ³ Kakachia, Makharadze, and Lebanidze, "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn," p. 290 4 Kakachia, Makharadze, and Lebanidze, "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn," p.290 5 Tyushka, "Combating Corruption in Ukraine," p. 1 6 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 246 7 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 253 8 Tyushka, "Combating Corruption in Ukraine," p. 6 9 Tyushka, "Combating Corruption in Ukraine," p. 6 10 Scott, "Behind the Official Story," p.3

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On the surface, civil society organizations in Ukraine enjoy public trust, seemingly positioning them as potential norm enforcers in the anti-corruption sphere. Yet, their functionality is constrained by several factors: a reluctance to formalize their structures, limiting their visibility and scale of change; reactive tendencies rather than proactive agenda setting; financial constraints; and inconsistent state support due to fiscal restraints.¹¹ Furthermore, the proliferation of grant-funded NGOs and the propensity of donors to establish new agencies rather than reinforce existing ones potentially compromises the optimization of Ukraine's anti-corruption efforts.¹² This quest for external funding may also hinder the purity of civil society organizations' motivations, implying that organizations may favor grant-supported projects over more pragmatic alternatives for reasons of status and monetary compensation.¹³ Moreover, civil society's involvement in anti-corruption initiatives appears largely superficial since government officials include non-state actors mainly to create an illusion of inclusivity to Western observers rather than to facilitate genuine participation.¹⁴ The hidden transcripts of civil society organizations privately documenting corruption while publicly backing official policies, coupled with powerholders' covert efforts to impede investigations despite public advocacy for transparency, obstruct the execution of asset declaration systems, specialized anti-corruption courts, and transparent public procurement processes. Compounding these issues, the ruling elite in Ukraine employs undue influence to marginalize civil society actors,¹⁵ further impeding their contribution. Ultimately, Ukraine's ongoing struggles, despite active civil society engagement, demonstrate that the mere presence of a dynamic civil society does not guarantee success in revolutionary efforts.

Georgia: Transformation through Centralized Reform Georgia has undergone a remarkable transformation, evolving from a failed state beset by endemic corruption, widespread criminal organizations, and uncontrolled territories, such as the Pansiki Gorge, which is associated with terrorist networks, to a nation that has substantially weakened the influence of criminal leaders, eradicated corruption at lower and medium-level bureaucratic echelons, and reasserted the monopoly on the use of force.¹⁶ In the wake of the Rose Revolution of 2003–a peaceful pro-democracy uprising, culminating in President Eduard Shevardnadze's departure from office–Mikheil Saakashvili, a prominent opposition leader during the upheaval who subsequently won the presidential election in 2004, proclaimed that combating corruption and criminal activity would be at the forefront of his agenda.¹⁷ 11 Kakachia, Makharadze, and Lebanidze, "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn," p. 297 12 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 251 13 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 252 14 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 252 15 D’Elia, D’Antone, and Martorana, "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy," p. 252 16 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 18 17 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 19

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This uprising established an implicit social contract between the masses and the elite, endorsing the regime's mandate to eradicate rent-seeking behaviors. The resulting unified vision stood in stark contrast to Ukraine's post-revolutionary landscape, where regional fragmentation and oligarchic interests impeded the formation of a similarly cohesive anti-corruption plan. However, it is noteworthy that while civic engagement was instrumental in sparking the revolution, civil society's involvement in implementing Saakashvili's subsequent policies was more limited compared to that of Ukraine.

The Saakashvili administration utilized anti-corruption efforts as a way to establish their legitimacy as the new governing body, exhibit the enhanced capabilities of the more robust state apparatus, and signal to the international arena their dedication to reconstructing governmental institutions.¹⁸ This strategy complemented Georgia's aspiration to deviate from Russia's development trajectory, leveraging Western allure to pave the way toward European assimilation. Additionally, given Georgia's scarcity of valuable natural resources and major industrial enterprises, state actors fully acknowledged the need for foreign investment to drive the state's economic advancement. This realization necessitated the implementation of liberalization policies and anticorruption measures to attract the required international capital. Georgia's swift adoption of international practices can be interpreted as a response to the post-revolutionary domestic upheaval, with the newly established government aiming to strengthen its credibility and global reputation during a time of political elite vulnerability.¹⁹ Before the Rose Revolution, vested corrupt interests persistently sabotaged all attempts of norm entrepreneurs to launch anti-corruption reforms. Shevardnadze's effort to curb the informal economy in the 1990s, for instance, was subverted by the fraudulent business-political nexus.²⁰ By contrast, the non-pacted nature of Georgia's Rose Revolution, distinguished by a firm rupture from the previous administration without political bargaining, allowed incoming authorities to implement radical changes without restraint (unlike in Ukraine's Orange Revolution where political intricacies thwarted sweeping reforms).

Consequently, the government's executive arm successfully underwent restructuring and optimization under Saakashvili, adopting a cabinet-based governance model.²¹ Administrative policies formed the core of the anticorruption strategy, including minimizing bureaucratic inefficiencies, increasing salaries for public servants, and discontinuing unnecessary licenses and institutions.²² Georgia adopted a multi-faceted approach, reforming the police force, Ministry of Finances, and prosecutor's office while building new entities, such as a financial monitoring service to address money laundering.²³ This holistic strategy simultaneously targeted diverse governance aspects, translating into systematic change. Moreover, comprehensive media coverage of corrupt officials' arrests effectively displayed the newly implemented policy of intolerance towards bribery to the public.²⁴ Lastly, extensive reforms were enacted to simplify business regulations, restructure taxation, and fortify supervisory institutions.²⁵ 18 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 19 19 Finnemore and Sikkink, "International Norm Dynamics," p. 906 20 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 22 21 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p.20 22 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 20 23 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 25 24 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 20 25 Oksana S. and Yevhen H., "Corruption and Governance," p. 20

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Comparative Analysis While Georgia achieved palpable reductions in petty corruption after 2003, Ukraine's anti-corruption attempts following the Orange and Euromaidan Revolutions yielded minimal results. Notably, Ukraine's lack of improvement in mitigating corruption persisted even despite attempts to decentralize power, including the formation of a coalition government and constitutional reforms aimed at empowering the opposition.²⁶ In less than a decade (2003–2012), Georgia made the most noteworthy leap in Transparency Index history, elevating its status from among the ten most corrupt countries globally to the top third for governmental transparency.²⁷ In contrast, Ukraine's performance on the Transparency Index remained nearly unchanged between 2003 and 2012, with its ranking marginally declining from the 20th to the 18th percentile.²⁸ While the country's score improved steadily post-Euromaidan (27 in 2015, 29 in 2016, 30 in 2017),²⁹ this progress is relative as many countries globally experienced declining scores.

Civil society organizations played pivotal roles in catalyzing the revolutions in Georgia and Ukraine. In Georgia, groups like Kmara were instrumental in galvanizing public support and organizing protests.³⁰ Similarly, the NGO Pora was a major driver of the Orange Revolution in Ukraine,³¹ reinforcing the power of grassroots civil society in instigating political change in post-Soviet states. Price posits that transnational advocacy networks can exert moral leverage to pressure states into compliance with international rules,³² but while this influence was seen in the initial stages of reforms in Georgia and Ukraine, their divergent anti-corruption outcomes highlight its limitations.

Furthermore, securing NATO membership emerged as a critical objective for the administrations of both Saakashvili and Yushchenko.³³ However, the equal salience of civic groups and international influences in the countries fails to elucidate the divergent repercussions in Georgia's and Ukraine's anti-corruption campaigns, necessitating alternative explanations to comprehend this disparity.

One such explanation lies in the composition of their respective governments. While the Georgian government was staffed by young, Western-trained technocrats with experience in the non-governmental sector, the Ukrainian administration was dominated by self-serving politicians dependent on the former corrupt system.³⁴ These differing profiles imply that the Saakashvili-led administration might have been intrinsically more driven to pursue substantive changes than the Yushchenko administration. Moreover, the highly centralized structure of the Georgian government may have contributed to the rise of Saakashvili's reformist team, as the absence of influential political opposition permitted him to appoint preferred candidates to key posts. Conversely, the power-sharing demands in Ukraine constrained Yushchenko in his capacity to select officials aligned with his desired policies.

26 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 848 27 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 880 28 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 580 29 Kakachia, Makharadze, and Lebanidze, "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn," p. 289 30 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 862 31 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 862 32 Price, "Transnational Civil Society and Advocacy," p. 589 33 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 848 34 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 863

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Furthermore, Ukraine's regional fragmentation, with the Ukrainian-speaking west and Russian-speaking east serving as separate political power bases, posed another obstacle to the country's reform agenda, as the West largely backed the Orange Revolution while the East was opposed to it.³⁵ This divide proved detrimental to anticorruption policies, as the polarized nature of the political system posed barriers for Yushchenko in building a cohesive governing coalition and overcoming legislative gridlock, thereby undermining the effectiveness of decentralization efforts. Therefore, Saakashvili encountered significantly less impediments in displacing regional elites than Yushchenko did. Georgia's example thus demonstrates that the centralization of power, if accompanied by a reform-oriented government, increases the likelihood of achieving successful reforms.

However, the confluence of these factors may be a rare phenomenon.

Conclusion While civic engagement catalyzed revolutions in both Georgia and Ukraine with comparable vigor, the different achievements in their anti-corruption efforts demonstrate that it was not the most crucial factor in determining success. Georgia's triumph over corruption illustrates how centralized power, when wielded by a reform-driven leader such as Saakashvili, promotes the adoption of radical policies that successfully sideline status quofavoring political competitors. In contrast, Yushchenko was compelled to form a broader coalition, including former government members loyal to the previous system, which placed him in a more vulnerable position to enact change in Ukraine. This comparison underscores that while civil society can ignite reform movements by enforcing norms, a country’s political structure and its leadership's ability to drive transformation play a more influential role in achieving sustainable anti-corruption outcomes.

35 Shandiz and Aksenov, "Corruption and Political Stability," p. 862

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References D'Elia, Guido R., Sabrina D'Antone, and Giovanni P. Martorana. "Corruption, Trust, and Democracy in Post-Soviet Countries."

Crime, Law and Social Change 70, no. 4 (2018). https://doi.org/10.1016/j.soscij.2018.02.001.

Finnemore, Martha, and Kathryn Sikkink. "International Norm Dynamics and Political Change." International Organization 52, no.

4 (1998): 887–917.

Kakachia, Kornely, Tamar Makharadze, and Bidzina Lebanidze. "Georgia’s Illiberal Turn: Loaded Dice and Failed Dreams."

Canadian Slavonic Papers 61, no. 3 (2019. https://doi.org/10.1080/00085006.2019.1636630.

Price, Richard. "Transnational Civil Society and Advocacy in World Politics." World Politics 55, no. 4 (2003): 579–606.

Scott, James. Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden Transcripts. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990.

Shandiz, Marat, and Timofey S. Aksenov. "Corruption and Political Stability in Post-Soviet States." Post-Soviet Affairs 32, no. 4 (2016). https://doi.org/10.1080/09668136.2016.1192107.

Tyushka, Andriy. "Combating Corruption in Ukraine: Awaiting Results." OSW Commentary, July 12, https://www.osw.waw.pl/en/publikacje/osw-commentary/2017-07- 12/combating-corruption-ukraine-awaiting-results.

2017.

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El Salvador The Complicity of the State in the Normalization of Gender-Based Violence

By Anne-Émilie Demaison, Noemi Jacquemet, Lara Cevasco Abstract This report delves into the intricate layers of gender-based violence in El Salvador, emphasizing its deep-rooted connection to cultural and societal norms. Examining the prevalence of GBV, particularly feminicides, the report explores the lasting impact of historical events, such as the civil war, on the normalization of violence against women. The state's post-war actions, including amnesty laws and systemic impunity, are scrutinized for their role in perpetuating this cycle. The report underscores the urgent need for activism and awareness-raising to dismantle entrenched norms, providing a comprehensive analysis of the challenges faced by Salvadoran women and proposing targeted initiatives. Ultimately, the report serves as a call to action, advocating for a united effort to transform awareness into tangible change and foster a society where women's rights are unequivocally respected and protected.

Key terms : Gender-based violence (GBV), feminicides, patriarchal culture, symbolic violence, State, impunity, human rights and awareness Trigger warning: mentions of sexual assault

Résumé Ce rapport explore les couches complexes de la violence fondée sur le genre au Salvador, en mettant l'accent sur sa connexion profondément enracinée dans les normes culturelles et sociétales. En examinant la prévalence de la VFG, notamment les féminicides, le rapport analyse l'impact durable des événements historiques, tels que la guerre civile, sur la normalisation de la violence à l'égard des femmes. Les actions de l'État après la guerre, y compris les lois d'amnistie et l'impunité systémique, sont examinées pour leur rôle dans le maintien de ce cycle.

Le rapport souligne l'urgence de l'activisme et de la sensibilisation pour démanteler les normes ancrées, en offrant une analyse complète des défis auxquels sont confrontées les femmes salvadoriennes et en proposant des initiatives ciblées. En fin de compte, le rapport sert d'appel à l'action, plaidant pour un effort unifié visant à transformer la prise de conscience en changement concret et à promouvoir une société où les droits des femmes sont indiscutablement respectés et protégés.

Termes clés : Violence fondée sur le genre (VFG), féminicides, culture patriarcale, violence symbolique, État, impunité, droits de l'homme et sensibilisation.

Avertissement : mentions d'agressions sexuelles

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¿Dónde está “El Salvador” de las mujeres?

El Salvador, a country of rich cultural fabric and staggering environmental diversity, faces a major challenge that casts a shadow over the progress of its society: the pervasive issue of gender-based violence (GBV). This Central American country, with its complex socio-political and economic landscape, has undergone significant transformations in recent decades. Emerging from a brutal civil war that lasted from 1980 to 1992, El Salvador has grappled with the legacies of conflict, including deep-seated inequalities and a culture of violence that has seeped into the social fabric¹. Despite efforts towards democratization and economic reforms, the country continues to struggle with high levels of poverty, inequality, and social unrest. Indeed, these challenges are compounded by a history of patriarchal norms that have perpetuated gender disparities across various aspects of life. Hence, the issue of GBV in El Salvador is not an isolated phenomenon but is intertwined with these broader socio-economic and political dynamics. The entrenched patriarchal values, reinforced by traditional cultural beliefs, are manifested in various forms of violence against women, including domestic abuse, sexual assault, and the extreme form of feminicide. These practices are further exacerbated by systemic challenges which often fail to protect victims or hold perpetrators accountable. Moreover, the Salvadoran economy, characterized by low wages, limited job opportunities, and a significant reliance on remittances, places additional burdens on women, who often find themselves in vulnerable positions². The situation is further complicated by the country's political landscape, where efforts to address GBV are often hindered by bureaucratic inertia and a lack of political will.

Therefore, to address this crisis of GBV in El Salvador we will focus on how social and political structures contribute to and normalize such violence, thereby exposing the inherent challenges and shortcomings in addressing this crisis. In doing so, the report will highlight the Salvadoran state's role as a perpetrator in these human rights violations, emphasizing the need for increased global awareness and intervention to break the cycle of violence and uphold universal human rights.

Firstly, we will examine how the cultural and traditional roots of Salvadoran society, including a deeply ingrained machismo ideology and patriarchal structures, contribute to GBV and particularly feminicide. This section will also analyze how the transmission of this ideology to younger generations prevents change from happening. Then, the report will emphasize the complicity of the Salvadoran state in perpetuating GBV, through the tracing of the historical context since the civil war era. It will analyze how the state’s actions and inactions, namely the failure to address the legacy of violence against women leading to impunity and a weak legislature, have contributed to a societal model where GBV is normalized. Lastly, we will emphasize the need for activism and awareness-raising as a critical response to the alarming levels of GBV in El Salvador. By highlighting the silence and under-reporting of this issue we will advocate for initiatives that foster awareness, challenge destructive norms, and empower women to assert their rights. ¹ (World Bank, 2023, 3) ² (Nilsson, 2005, 8)

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Analysis of Cultural and Societal Norms: the deathly Machismo A preliminary question in our research is why we refer specifically to “feminicide” rather than “femicide”. In this report, we choose to employ the former term because we believe that it describes with the most accuracy the different factors that have led to the cruel event of women’s killings in El Salvador. If the word femicide only entails the aggressor as being guilty, we prefer to use the term “feminicide” because it includes a different perception of the crime by holding responsible not only the male perpetrators, but also the social construction and the state’s role that has led to a normalized pattern.³ As such, on one hand, the perpetuation of GBV in El Salvador is deeply rooted in the social and cultural norms of society. What are these norms, where do they come from and how do they affect Salvadoran women? Over time, the country's culture and traditional structures have normalized and desensitized the issue of violence against women. Today, this translates into a persistent patriarchal ideology that is passed down from generation to generation, resulting in various forms of violence against women, the most brutal one being feminicides.

El Salvador, and more generally Central America, are renowned for their patriarchal culture, known as machismo. Machismo, or machista ideology, is an illustration of the prominence of hegemonic masculinity, where violence becomes a key expression of masculine behavior and a mechanism for ensuring continued male privilege.⁴ Within the household, the prevailing ideology is that men are the heads of the family, and asserting their masculinity through violent, sexist, and misogynistic behavior serves as a way to maintain dominance over their partner and children. Parallelly, data from the World Bank showed that in 2017, women spent 20.2 percent of their day on unpaid work, which relates to domestic and care work, while men spent only 7 percent; these numbers illustrate the traditional familial structure under the separation of roles, with men working outside of the household and women ensuring domestic care.⁵ The machista ideology can vary among communities and areas, but it has shown, over the years, to be prominent in specific backgrounds, such as poverty and inequality.

Women from poor and marginalized communities find themselves constrained by traditional attitudes that subordinate them within the family and limit their mobility, hence being more subject to domestic violence.⁶ Moreover, as it is anchored deeply into the cultural and societal roots, these norms are being passed on to the next generations, allowing the circle to perpetuate itself. Oxfam International conducted a study to examine GBV in eight Latin American countries, including El Salvador. The study showed that gender-discriminating norms and the machista ideology in these countries were being transmitted to the youngest, especially between the ages of 15 and 20. The results claimed that, for instance, 65 percent of Salvadoran young men agreed with the following statement: “Women sometimes act hard to get for having sexual relations, saying NO when they really mean YES”⁷. Similarly, seven of every ten men believe that “a woman is responsible if she is groped or cornered because she is wearing the wrong clothes”⁸. The alarming aspect of these results lies in the fact that for the majority of these polls, men's and women's answers are very close, meaning that this ideology is not only present among men but embedded in Salvadoran society as a whole. This is why deconstructing the norms of a patriarchal society among the Salvadoran youth constitutes an important call for action to prevent the pattern from repeating itself over the years and the generations. ³ (Nawrocki, 2023) ⁴ (Hume, 2008, 62) ⁵ (World Bank, 2017) ⁶ (Prieto-Carrón and al., 2007, 29) ⁷ (Ruiz and Garrido, 2018, 17)

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In parallel, the fact that the machista ideology represents a key cultural component of Salvadoran society has also shown to be a form of rejecting Western views about global human rights and gender equality. As human rights development was put forward on the global agenda in the 1980s, many societies, particularly Latin America, opposed the idea of universal human rights, which they referred to as “Western cultural imperialism”⁹.

For these populations, the patriarchal foundation of social norms constituted their cultural identity, and all cultural practices were meant to be equally valid. In other words, they felt no need to change social and traditional norms, as they did not see themselves as concerned by Western views on women’s rights and gender equality¹⁰.

As such, GBV is so deeply embedded into Salvadoran culture and society that it has become a symbolic violence.

Women accept violence, within or outside of their household, because they believe it is normal. According to Pierre Bourdieu, symbolic violence can be understood as a means of normalizing unequal power structures to the point where they look normal and remain unquestioned. In this way, the idea that men are superior to women in different spheres is seen as natural, and almost inevitable¹¹. In fact, roughly half of Salvadorans, both men and women, between the ages of 20 and 25 years, think that women do not escape a violent relationship because they believe that it is normal¹².

This transcending ideology over years and generations has set the basis for extreme forms of violence inflicted on women, reaching the point of killing them. In El Salvador, a large proportion of GBV translates to feminicides, the act of killing a woman explicitly because of her gender. The country has shown strikingly high rates of feminicides in Latin America but also worldwide, and ranked first place in the world in 2017¹³. Recently, COVID-19 accentuated great violence within households, and conjugal feminicides that year showed higher levels than average. Having no place to escape during the day, women victims of conjugal violence had to endure physical and sexual abuse daily while isolated with their violent partners. In 2020, 67% of these abuses between April and August resulted in death¹⁴.

However, as these norms appear to be stagnating and not evolving within society, it is important to consider that another actor – the state – also plays a significant role in preventing these changes from taking place. ⁸ (Oxfam, 2018) ⁹ (Shannon, 2012, 293) ¹⁰ (Ibid) ¹¹ (Hume, 2008, 62–63) ¹² (Ruiz and Garrido, 2018, 23) ¹³ (Menjívar and Walsh, 2017) ¹⁴ (Rizk, 2022, 34)

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The perpetrators of Gender Based Violence Normalization in El Salvador The normalization of GBV in the societal and cultural sphere can partly be attributed to the role of the State in El Salvador’s recent history, both by its inactions and actions that perpetuate the pattern.

In 1979, a coalition of reformist politicians and officers orchestrated the removal of El Salvador’s dictator, Carlos Humberto Romero. Subsequently, despite the change in leadership, socio-economic conditions failed to ameliorate, and right-wing paramilitary factions escalated their infringement upon human rights¹⁵. In response to these developments, the Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front (FMLN), a leftist coalition, established a military force to counter the actions of the government and paramilitary entities. A protracted and ruthless twelve-year civil conflict thus emerged against the insurgent FMLN forces¹⁶. The enduring impact of the Salvadoran war on contemporary society is notably elucidated by its profound influence on the prevalence of violence against women, as delineated in the military strategy¹⁷. Specifically, within the overarching objective of preventing the ascent of communism in Latin America, the United States actively endorsed the right-wing military junta. A gruesome part of the Salvadoran military strategy involved the reprehensible acts of rape and torture inflicted upon civilian women in the fight against the FMLN¹⁸. The military, perceiving women as associated with leftist movements, sought to instill fear and diminish support for the guerrilla forces by systematically targeting them. Furthermore, the violence directed against women can be considered a manifestation of psychological warfare within a cultural dynamic where women are regarded as symbolic embodiments of community and familial honor. A historical instance during the war that exemplifies this pattern is El Mozote massacre of 1981¹⁹. In this tragic event, women were violently taken to the hills where they were subject to rape, and subsequently, the entire community endured systemic execution on allegations of communism²⁰. Survivor Dorila Márquez defines massacre through the sense of smell: “We smelled the burnt body smell all day” (United Nations 2020). The poetry of Irma Ramos Arrega (2020) vividly portrays the war’s abrupt, repressive and targeted nature: El Mozote Massacre, El Salvador Awakened suddenly by a distant noise Followed by discomforting silence I wondered the whereabouts of my boys Who didn’t realize the dangers of defiance A soldier violently threw me aside As I stumbled, I was brought to a halt Petrified, by my children who lied open eyed Lifeless; the aftermath of an assault I could barely see anymore But the other women’s screams were enough For me to know what we were brought for

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¹⁵ (Huttner 2020) ¹⁶ (Huttner 2020) ¹⁷ (Rizk 2022, 29) ¹⁸ (Huttner 2020) ¹⁹ (Rizk 2022, 29) ²⁰ (Rizk 2022, 30)

Praying God gave me the strength to be tough I peacefully took my last breath Knowing I’d reunite with my town after death

In the aftermath of gender-based war crimes, and even though the war concluded nearly three decades ago, the state has yet to address the enduring legacy of violence against women. The discernible pattern is intricately linked to both the actions and inactions of the state following the war. The 1992 Accords, which initiated a reconciliation process through a Truth Commission to scrutinize the atrocities and human rights violations during the civil war, had noteworthy limitations²¹. Not all cases were investigated, leading to some political leaders avoiding accountability, with many choosing to remain silent, thereby securing the involvement of commanding officers in post-war political life²². Adding to this issue, GBV was systematically omitted from the Truth Commission Report despite compelling evidence of such crimes occurring²³. While the El Mozote massacre is cited as an illustrative example, the Truth Commission neglects to mention the systematic rape of women and girls²⁴. This underscores the state's inaction, as there is a conspicuous and deliberate absence of any reference to rape or other forms of sexual violence against women. In the Salvadoran Truth report, the most unspeakable truth remains unspoken. Women are considered to have been “simply executed.” Precisely, in the 1993 Legislative Assembly, the lawmakers approved the Amnesty Act, which made it legally impossible to prosecute those involved in any war crime, as well as other severe human rights violations²⁵. Amnesty Laws provided a legal framework that promoted cycles of increasing violence and perpetuated existing power relations, acting as a shield for those responsible for human rights violations²⁶. The first amnesty law decriminalized the former guerrilla, enabling the transformation of the FMLN into a political party, while the second law secured overall impunity — the failure to bring to justice — regarding human rights violations by the state and the guerrilla²⁷. It was therefore decided to dismiss not only reconciliation and commemoration efforts but also any possibility of accountability and prospects of justice.

Impunity stands out as a major catalyst for GBV, particularly in the impunity that courts and legislators grant perpetrators in cases of feminicide. The laws protecting women from GBV do not adequately deter the crime. In El Salvador, the United Nations Deputy High Commissioner for Human Rights reports an impunity rate of 77 percent²⁸. Furthermore, only 5 percent of feminicide cases end up with someone being charged, and 3 percent result in a guilty verdict, underscoring the limited number of cases that progress to trial and face legal sanctions²⁹. This troubling trend cannot be attributed solely to the state as a personified entity since the civil war, as it also continually involves the actions of policymakers and legislators. The broader normalization of violence against women is integrated into the minds of lawmakers and of those charged with writing, interpreting, and implementing the law, something further observed through the limitations of the laws, precisely through the 1996 Intrafamiliar Violence Law and Article 200 of the Criminal Code. The Intrafamiliar Violence Law defines domestic violence against women rather broadly and is designed in such a way that it prevents rather than punishes violence³⁰. The principal preventative mechanism is to enable women to obtain a protection order, but very few women obtain such orders, and they are rarely enforced³¹. Such orders do not even protect women and do not prevent further violence, as women run the risk of angering the aggressor, whom the police cannot prevent from retaliating against her. ²¹ (Monterrosa 2020) ²² (ibid) ²³ (Tombs 2006, 11) ²⁴ (ibid, 12) ²⁵ (United Nations 2020) ²⁶ (Amnesty International 2021, 4) ²⁷ (Ansorg and Kuternbach 2023, 3) ²⁸ (Huttner 2020) ²⁹ (Huttner 2020) ³⁰ (Walsh and Menjívar 2016, 594) ³¹ (ibid, 594)

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Furthermore, the law lacks explicit language, avoiding any specifications regarding the causes of GBV³².

Precisely, the Preamble IV underscores what the lawmakers consider the cause of violence: a complex social phenomenon: “Que la violencia intrafamiliar es un fenómeno social complejo [...]”. This has made the impunity of the perpetrators and the unprotectedness of the victims possible³³. Lastly, this law conceals the fact that women suffer disproportionately from violence at the hands of men in the domestic realm, as it “protects” women and men equally as potential victims of a “complex social phenomenon.” Article 200 of the Penal Code is restrictive in that criminal proceedings under this article can only take place in a narrow range of circumstances, for example, if the victim presents severe injuries or if the aggressor is a recidivist³⁴. A similar pattern of not using specific language is also observed in Article 200 where feminicide is not explicitly mentioned³⁵. All in all, this has contributed to impunity for aggressors, which sends a powerful message to women, victims of GBV, that their lives are not valued in the domestic sphere and within the formal structures that have been created to protect them. Besides, it is important to consider the proportion of seats occupied by women at the time of the drafting and enactment of the legislature. According to the Inter-Parliamentary Union, between 1994 and 1997, at the time of the enactment of the Intrafamiliar Violence Law, there were only 10.7 percent of seats occupied by women³⁶. And even recently, in 2020, El Salvador approved a National Reconciliation Law that further ensures impunity for war crimes, especially rape committed during the civil war³⁷.

As most of the men who perpetrated or witnessed sexual violence during the war are considered innocent, the legacy of the civil war continues to impact Salvadoran society through the normalization of contemporary sexual violence and gender-based homicide in El Salvador. The normalization of GBV, and therefore impunity, has led to the emergence of a societal model in which women are increasingly losing consciousness of their human rights, and what they entail.

The Need for Activism and Awareness-Raising in the Fight Against GBV The entrenchment of GBV reached alarming proportions, constituting in itself a major violation of women's human rights. Across the country, many women remain unaware of their rights, highlighting the urgent need for activism and campaigns to break down these harmful social constructs. As seen throughout the report, a distressing trend has been emerging in El Salvador: out of every 100 women aged 15 or over, 64 have suffered sexual violence at some point in their lives as observed in Figure 1³⁸. This shocking statistic is not just a figure, but a stark reminder of the pervasive and insidious nature of GBV plaguing the country.

Figure 1 - Prevenlencia de la violencia sexual contra la mujeres de 15 años o más

³² (Peetz 2008, 19) ³³ (ibid, 19) ³⁴ (Walsh and Menjívar 2016, 594) ³⁵ (Peetz 2008, 20) ³⁶ (Peetz 2008, 20) ³⁷ (Huttner 2020) ³⁸ (Bernabeau 2022, 12) ³⁸ (Bernabeau 2022, 12)

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Indeed, GBV constitutes an ongoing threat to women throughout their lives, deeply rooted in gender discrimination, societal norms and harmful stereotypes. Nonetheless, only a minority of them — 16 out of 100 for private sexual violence and just 2 out of 100 for public sexual violence — have sought help from state authorities in the previous year³⁹. Hence, the reasons for this silence are multiple, but mainly rooted in fear of repercussions and a normalized perception of violent treatment⁴⁰. This fear is not just a vague apprehension, but a concrete response to the very real risks associated with denouncing these crimes. The ineffective and often unencouraging response of the authorities, as indicated by the US State Department's Country Reports on Human Rights Practices, exacerbates this fear, leading victims to believe that their cases will not be pursued effectively, if at all⁴¹. Moreover, the social stigmatization of victims of violence, highlighted by Amnesty International, further reinforces this silence⁴². Yet, in many cases, women have unknowingly internalized this pervasive violence, becoming insensitive to its profound impact. At a local level, Salvadoran women — especially vulnerable groups of womens, namely rural, indigenous and migrant women, as well as domestic workers and women working in the “maquiladora” industry — are often unaware of their rights, a consequence this misogynistic attitudes within the state and society⁴³. Indeed, they often fail to recognize the seriousness of their situation, which is a disturbing reflection of how deeply rooted this violence is in their daily lives (Vice TV 2016).

In fact, in this 2016 report, a group testified: “In many households in El Salvador, there are women that are beaten up, raped {...} but that is a normal thing here, because man are machistas from the moment they are born.” further underlining the gravity of the situation⁴⁴. The fact that this view is widely accepted and unchallenged within these groups, despite the serious implications of such a mindset, is a shocking testament to the scale of the problem.

Consequently, the harsh reality of GBV in El Salvador, characterized by rampant acceptance and underreporting, demands urgent action. Activism and awareness-raising are essential to break the deep-rooted cycle of violence and silence. Indeed, we must mobilize our efforts to inform about women's rights, challenge destructive norms, and empower victims to express their experiences⁴⁵. This fight is not just about support; it's about transforming the societal attitudes and behaviors that perpetuate GBV. Hence, it is time to unite and transform awareness into meaningful action, striving towards a future where every woman's rights and dignity are respected and protected unequivocally. To address this urgent issue, our aim is to shine a light on the often "invisible" problem of GBV, by actively encouraging discussion and creating platforms where women can share their experiences without fear. This can involve organizing community forums, workshops, and support groups that encourage open dialogue and provide a safe space for women to tell their stories⁴⁶. ³⁹ (World Bank 2023, 5) ⁴⁰ (ibid, 5) ⁴¹ (US Department of State 2015, 15) ⁴² (Amnesty International 2021) ⁴³ (United Nations 2007, 3) ⁴⁴ (ibid) ⁴⁵ (Brigell 2010) ⁴⁶ (Ibid)

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In doing so, we aim to make GBV a tangible and recognized issue within the salvadoran society, thereby challenging and preventing its historical perpetuation. Aware of the influence of the war generation still present in society, we also plan to launch educational programs and awareness campaigns aimed at younger generations, stressing the importance of respecting and defending women's rights. Lastly, we aim to further underline the critical need for fostering global empathy and shared feelings of solidarity in response to the violations of women's human rights in El Salvador⁴⁷.

Therefore, through these actions, we seek to create societal change that recognizes and addresses the realities of GBV, paving the way for a future where women's rights are not only recognized, but become an integral part of the social fabric.

Conclusion: all united to make change happen Throughout this report, we have seen how GBV has become an entrenched norm within society, partly because it represents a cultural identity and is part of a machista ideology normalizing patriarchal hierarchies within and outside the household, but also because this normalization has been fueled by both the actions and inaction of the Salvadoran state, which has allowed these crimes to go unpunished and consequently, to be reproduced.

Finally, we have shown why this situation represents today a crisis for Human Rights development while stressing the importance of taking action to stop this violation of women's fundamental rights.

We are in a decisive moment in El Salvador. The way forward is one of respect, equality and security for all women, where their rights are not only recognized but fiercely protected. Let us join hands and hearts in this vital mission. Let's build a Women's Salvador where dignity and safety are not just ideals, but realities for every woman.

United in this struggle, for a common cause – may triumph be ours.

⁴⁷ (Hunt 2007, 10)

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References Amnesty International. “Amnesty International Report: The State of the World’s Human Rights - Amnesty International,” September 27, 2021 https://www.amnesty.org/en/pol10-0001-2015-en-2/.

Amnesty International - “EL SALVADOR Peace can only be achieved with justice”. AI Index: AMR 29/001/2001. 2021 https://www.amnesty.org/fr/wp-content/uploads/2021/06/amr290012001en.pdf Ansorg, N., & Kurtenbach, S. Promoting Peace and Impunity? Amnesty Laws after War in El Salvador and beyond. Journal of Global Security Studies, 8(2). 2023.

Bernabeu, Neus. “Dos de Cada Tres Mujeres Sufren Violencia Sexual En El Salvador Encuesta Nacional de Violencia Sexual Contra las Mujeres 2019,” March 2022. https://elsalvador.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/pub-pdf/cuadernospoblacion_1_unfpa-s v.pdf.

Brigell, Madeline. “Participatory Theater and the Prevention of Gender-based Violence”. Crown Family School of Social Work, Policy, and Practice, University of Chicago. Accessed March 29, 2025. https://crownschool.uchicago.edu/student-life/advocatesforum/participatory-theater-and-prevention-gender-based-violence.

Hume, Mo. “The Myths of Violence: Gender, Conflict, and Community in El Salvador.” Latin American Perspectives, vol. 35, no. 5, 2008, pp. 59–76. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27648120 Huttner, Sophie. “El Salvador’s Feminicide Crisis”, The Yale Review of International Studies. March, 2020. http://yris.yira.org/essays/3794 Inter-Parliamentary Union. El Salvador: Asamblea Legislativa – Data on Women in Parliament.

Accessed March 29, 2025. https://data.ipu.org/parliament/SV/SV-LC01/data-on-women.

Lynn Hunt, “The Paradoxical Origins of Human Rights,” in Human Rights and Revolutions, edited by Jeffrey N. Wasserstrom et. al., 2nd edition (Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2007), 3-20.

Menjívar, C. and Drysdale Walsh, S. "The Architecture of Feminicide: The State, Inequalities, and Everyday Gender Violence in Honduras." Latin American Research Review 52.2. Cambridge University Press. 221-40. 2017 https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/latin-american-research-review/article/architecture-of-feminicide-the-stateinequalities-and-everyday-gender-violence-in honduras/7402F6A381FC8BA66F8BEFCA235D6FF5 Monterrosa, Luis Antonio. “A reconciliation that never arrives and the amnesty law that entombed it”, Envio Digital, Central American University (UCA). Number 473. 2020. https://www.envio.org.ni/articulo/5866 Nilsson, Therese. Remittances and Poverty in El Salvador. Lund, Sweden: Lund University, 2005. Accessed March 29, 2025. https://lup.lub.lu.se/luur/download?fileOId=1857843&func=downloadFile&recordOId=1857842.

Oxfam International. “Young people in Latin America still think violence against women is “normal”: Oxfam”. 2018. https://www.oxfam.org/en/node/10775 Prieto-Carrón, M. & al. “No more killings! Women respond to femicides in Central America, Gender & Development.” 15:1, 25-40. 2007. https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/13552070601178849?casa_token=kNd g9OC9kh8AAAAA%3AeXuHoVPrzdjZuLkIiNemExgkiekxc7sj0WeZyyd8dyZ-dBMTuEqEwp_svn-3flbz5NBCKsN5o_FQbU8 Ramos Arreaga, Irma A. "El Mozote Massacre*El Salvador," Toyon: Multilingual Literary Magazine: Vol. 66: Iss. 1, Article 10.

2020. https://digitalcommons.humboldt.edu/toyon/vol66/iss1/10/ Rizk, Chloe, "The Femicide Epidemic: A Case Study Analysis of Governmental Response and Recommendations for Combatting Femicide in El Salvador". Honors Theses.2759. 2022. https://egrove.olemiss.edu/hon_thesis/2759 Ruiz, D. and Garrido, A. “Breaking the mould: Changing belief systems and gender norms to eliminate violence against women”. Oxfam International. 2018.https://www.oxfam.org/en/research/breaking-mould Shannon, K. J. “The Right to Bodily Integrity: Women’s Rights as Human Rights and the International Movement to End Female Genital Mutilation, 1970s-1990s” in The Human Rights Revolution: An International History, edited by Akira Iriye et. al. (Oxford: Oxford University Press). 285-310. 2012 Tombs, D. Unspeakable Violence: The UN Truth Commissions in El Salvador and Guatemala. In I. Maclean (Ed.), Reconciliation: Nations and Churches in Latin America (pp. 57–84). Ashgate. 2006. https://ourarchive.otago.ac.nz/handle/10523/12767 United Nations. “Justice delayed but not denied: transitional justice in El Salvador” Office of the High Commissioner. 2020. https://www.ohchr.org/en/stories/2020/04/justice-delayed-not-denied-transitional-justice-el-salvador United States Department of State. “El Salvador 2015 Human Rights Report,” June 15, 2015. https://20092017.state.gov/documents/organization/253225.pdf.

Vice TV “The Violent Machismo Culture in El Salvador: WOMAN (Exclusive).”, June 9, 2016. https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=NUaQD73KM0Q. World Bank - “Country Profile: El Salvador”. Gender Data Portal. https://genderdata.worldbank.org/countries/el-salvador/ World Bank. Gender-Based Violence Country Profile: El Salvador. Washington, DC, June 01, 2023. https://openknowledge.worldbank.org/handle/10986/40126.

“World Bank. 2023. Gender-Based Violence Country Profile: El Salvador. GBV Country Profile. World Bank. http://hdl.handle.net/10986/40126

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Migrants’ Rights Advocacy in the Philippines and Singapore: An Empirical and Comparative Case Study through the Norm Cycle Framework

By Wendy Lin Abstract This paper examines migrant civil society advocacy in the Philippines and Singapore, analyzing their impact on migrants’ rights and labor conditions through the lens of Finnemore and Sikkink’s norm cycle framework. In the Philippines, migrant civil society has successfully driven norm entrepreneurship, pushing for legislative changes like the 1995 Magna Carta, which protects migrant workers. This success is attributed to active, transnational advocacy and government cooperation. In contrast, Singapore’s migrant civil society, while achieving some progress, operates within a constrained political space that limits its potential for norm entrepreneurship.

Instead, advocacy in Singapore is characterized by norm regression, where civil society groups reinforce the existing power structures. This paper highlights the importance of contextualizing the sociopolitical conditions in each country when assessing migrant civil society advocacy, arguing that the relationship between civil society and the state significantly influences the trajectory of norm changes.

Résumé Cet article examine l'engagement des sociétés civiles migrantes aux Philippines et à Singapour, en analysant leur impact sur les droits des migrants et les conditions de travail à travers le cadre du cycle des normes de Finnemore et Sikkink. Aux Philippines, la société civile des migrants a réussi à devenir un moteur de changement normatif, poussant à des modifications législatives comme la Magna Carta de 1995, qui protège les travailleurs migrants. Ce succès est attribué à un plaidoyer actif et transnational et à la coopération gouvernementale. En revanche, à Singapour, bien que la société civile des migrants ait obtenu des progrès, elle opère dans un espace politique restreint, ce qui limite son potentiel d'innovation normative. L'engagement des sociétés civiles à Singapour est plutôt marqué par un recul des normes, où les groupes de la société civile renforcent les structures de pouvoir existantes. Cet article souligne l'importance de contextualiser les conditions sociopolitiques de chaque pays lors de l'évaluation de l'engagement de la société civile migrante, en affirmant que la relation entre la société civile et l'État influence de manière significative l'évolution des normes.

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Introduction With such significant populations of migrants in the Philippines and foreign workers in Singapore, migrant civil society advocacy has played an indispensable role in advocating for migrants’ rights, protecting them from exploitation abroad, and overseeing domestic regulations over their labour rights. Although civil societies in both countries have, without a doubt, achieved change in various aspects that better the lives of migrants, the ways that their advocacy take form and the relationships that they hold with the dominant regimes suggest more complicated processes of norm influence. This essay investigates migrant rights advocacy in the two countries through the norm cycle framework of Finnemore and Sikkink. Drawing on the research of Morgan and McKeown, this essay analyses migrant civil society in the Philippines’ achievements as successful efforts of norm entrepreneurship while deeming Singapore’s limited sphere for political activity as norm regression. With support from Rother’s research of the Philippines and Bal’s work on Singapore, this essay provides a contextualisation of each country’s sociopolitical conditions in migration and civil society advocacy, analysing their civil society advocacy efforts as norm entrepreneurship and norm regression, respectively. Ultimately, this essay challenges the perceptions of migrant civil society advocacy in the Philippines and Singapore as solely successful or unsuccessful, calling for the recontextualisation of the countries’ respective conditions for civil society advocacy in the analyses of their norm influences.

The Philippines IOM¹ National Programme Officer Ricardo Caso describes the Philippines as a nation that stands out among other labour-sending countries for its “vigilant civil society organisations, a vigilant media… [and] a democracy.”² Ever since its establishment of the 1974 Labour Code, the Philippines has grown increasingly in its reputation as an emigrating and labour-exporting country: over 10% of the nation’s population are Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs) who contribute remittances that make up 10% of the country’s GDP.³ With migrant workers constituting such a significant portion of the population, migrant rights have become a prominent subject of national discussion with the aid of civil society organisations that bring migrant concerns and experiences to light. Civil society groups endeavour to solve the current issues of Filipino migration governance, such as the lack of oversight in migrant abuse and exploitation abroad. In doing so, they expose the “root causes” that drive the Filipino governance of migration,⁴ advocating for change within the domestic agenda’s regulations of OFWs. Supported by Rother’s research on Filipino migrant civil society’s contributions to the nation’s governance of labour migration, I analyse the Filipino civil society’s domestic and transnational achievements as efforts of norm entrepreneurship through the norm cycle framework of Finnemore and Sikkink. ¹ International Organisation for Migration. ² Stefan Rother, “The ‘Gold Standard’ for Labour Export? The Role of Civil Society in Shaping Multi-Level Philippine Migration Policies,” Third World Quarterly 43, no. 7 (2022): 1621. ³ Rother, 1608. ⁴ Rother, 1622.

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The Filipino migrant civil society movement began soon after dictator Marcos’ decree in 1982, calling for all OFWs to remit half of their incomes at minimum through Filipino financial institutions.⁵ This decree sparked outrage, resulting in the establishment of OFWs’ first recorded civil society—a loose alliance of 10 domestic workers’ organisations called the United Filipinos Against Forced Remittance (UNFARE). UNFARE criticised the government for curtailing their freedoms and intruding into their private affairs,⁶ and successfully influenced the state into first reducing the remittance requirement, and removing it fully in 1985.⁷ UNFARE’s success in preventing the establishment of such a victimising decree ultimately led to an increase in the establishment and the institutionalisation of migrants’ rights groups who advocated for change both internationally—protecting OFWs abroad—and within the country⁸, pushing the Filipino government to adjust regulations of OFWs. Migrant civil society’s advocacy within the Philippines is visible, and confronts the government head on.

Outraged by the unjust trial of Flor Contemplacion—a Filipina migrant worker who, due to her partial citizenship as a foreign worker in Singapore,⁹ was not offered her rights of legal counsel nor protection by either state, and was wrongfully accused, detained, and executed—civil society groups took to the street in public protests, ultimately bringing about the 1995 Magna Carta,¹⁰ which protected women from all forms of violence, including those of the state.¹¹ Migrante International, a global civil society organisation, was also established in the wake of Contemplacion’s execution and boasts over 200 member organisations in more than 23 different countries today.¹² Migrante International’s work prominently demonstrates civil society advocacy that is directed within the country, as well as in OFW’s destination countries.¹³

Migrant Civil Society in the Philippines: Norm Entrepreneurs The norm cycle, composed of three stages of norm construction, are discussed by Finnemore and Sikkink as the trajectory by which a norm entrepreneur achieves change through the emergence and internalisation of norms.¹⁴ A norm entrepreneur “call[s] attention to issues or even ‘create[s]’ issues by using language that names, interprets, and dramatises them,”¹⁵ attempting to “convince a critical mass of states (norm leaders) to embrace new norms.”¹⁶ In short, norm entrepreneurs’ cognitive framing of the issues they bring to light and data-supported claims are used to persuade a shift in norms. ⁵ Rother, 1615. ⁶ Rother, 1615. ⁷ Rother, 1615. ⁸ Rother, 1615. ⁹ Rother, 1615. ¹⁰ Rother, 1615. ¹¹ “FAQ: Republic Act 9710 or the Magna Carta of Women,” Republic of the Philippines: Philippine Commission on Women, https://pcw.gov.ph/faq-republic-act-9710-the-magna-carta-of-women/. ¹² Rother, 1615. ¹³ Rother, 1615. ¹⁴ Martha Finnemore and Kathryn Sikkink, “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change,” International Organization 52, no. 4 (1998): 895. ¹⁵ Finnemore and Sikkink, 897. ¹⁶ Finnemore and Sikkink, 895.

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The norm cycle begins with norm emergence, followed by a norm cascade,¹⁷ with hopes of achieving internalisation at the last stage. Norm emergence is challenging, as it requires the lobbying and socialisation of norms to push them forward. Finnemore and Sikkink note the ‘tipping point’ that bridges the first two stages, which is the moment that “a critical mass of relevant state actors adopt the norm” (Finnemore and Sikkink, 895).

The second stage, norm cascade, reflects the period where the norm becomes increasingly embraced, before entering the third stage of internalisation, where norms are truly normalised and institutionalised at the domestic level.

Migrant civil society’s advocacy in the Philippines can be understood through the lens of the norm cycle, and ultimately serves as an example of successful norm entrepreneurship. Norm emergence began with the first alliance of domestic worker organisations in 1982, UNFARE, which testified against Marcos’ decree, claiming it to be an infringement of their freedoms and an invasion of their private matters.¹⁸ Through this claim, UNFARE successfully reshaped the discussion into not only a dialogue on labour, but also an urgent conversation on the human rights of migrant workers. The tipping point of civil society advocacy can be identified as the major legislation of the 1995 Magna Carta, which was established as a response to the public protests from civil society regarding the unjust trial and execution of Flor Contemplacion. The reason why I identify the Magna Carta’s establishment as the tipping point is because it was a clear example of the government’s cooperation in answering the calls of civil society, demonstrating the precise moment that the state adopted the norm of protecting migrant workers. After this, many migrant civil society groups were established and have become increasingly involved in conversations and cooperations with “critical mass of relevant state actors.”¹⁹ Rother names a few of these players including the Consultative Council for Overseas Filipino Workers (CCOFW), which fostered dialogue to reduce the minimum age to become a migrant domestic worker, as well as the Alliance for Community Transformation and Service for Overseas Filipino Workers (ACTS-OFW), which holds a seat in Congress.²⁰ Outside of the Philippines’ own governing body, migrant civil society has promoted the nation’s involvement in various international committees as well as the ratification of many global conventions.²¹ After these ratifications, migrant civil society gained the ability to “use these [international ratified conventions] as referrals in pressing for political change on the national level,”²² thereby completing the norm cycle as it internalises these norms at the domestic level—the same norms that migrant civil society advocated for on the transnational level are institutionalised.

Singapore In contrast to the Philippines, labour organisation in Singapore faces more restrictions due to the government’s pro-business, anti-union standpoint. Moreover, the country’s strict regulations for foreign workers²³ amplifies their risks of deportation and termination from their jobs. However, though migrant civil society in Singapore has been successful in promoting change and improving the lives of migrants, their navigation of the country’s limited sphere for civil society advocacy instead reflects norm enforcement and norm regression. Referencing Bal’s research, this section first clarifies the People’s Action Party (PAP)’s approaches in limiting labour organisation activities, as well as the Ministry of Manpower (MoM)’s regulations for foreign workers, to contextualise and analyse the limits of migrant civil society’s advocacy sphere in Singapore. ¹⁷ Also referred to as the stage of norm acceptance. ¹⁸ Rother, “The ‘Gold Standard’ for Labour Export?,” 1615. ¹⁹ Finnemore and Sikkik, “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change,” 895. ²⁰ Rother, “The ‘Gold Standard’ for Labour Export?,” 1616. ²¹ Rother, 1620. ²² Rother, 1621. ²³ ‘Foreign workers’ is the legal language used for foreign migrant workers in Singapore.

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The PAP’s regime enforces severe restrictions on the formation of labour organisations and unions. The Public Order Act, for example, was established to “inhibit political dissent and collective organising.”²⁴ Similarly, the Internal Security Act prevents lawsuits against political opponents and the Societies Act requires the registration of NGOs under the law, which prevents them from engaging in “political activity.”²⁵ As a result, civil society is limited in their organisation, activity, and voicing of their political oppositions. Nonetheless, migrant civil society advocacy in Singapore should not be overlooked, for it has still influenced migrants’ lives by promoting itself as humanitarian and apolitical, enabling their participation in many ways. The Humanitarian Organization for Migrant Economics (HOME) is a Singaporean NGO that advocates for migrant workers’ rights primarily through the provision of services and lobbying of the ministry.²⁶ Branding itself as a welfare association, HOME can strategise against the limitations of Singapore’s activist sphere by using state-sponsored channels, including turning “para-bureaucratic interventions into complaints mechanisms.”²⁷ The Singaporean formal complaints mechanism within the MoM begins when a worker files a complaint, which prompts the Ministry’s initiation of a ‘conciliation.’ Conciliations have goals of creating a compromise between the worker and their employer, and are facilitated by three main actors: the MoM, the PAP-affiliated National Trades Union Congress (NTUC), and the Singapore National Employers Federation.²⁸ Although NGOs are classified as “voluntary welfare organisations” and thus legally barred from participating in ‘conciliations,’²⁹ their classification as welfare organisations gives them the ability to intervene in a unique way: when migrant worker complaints are formally referred to the ministry by NGOs—either in the form of physical accompaniment of the migrant or a written claim—the Ministry, in recognising that the NGOs are providing ‘welfare’ to the migrants in question, must allow them participatory permission in ‘conciliations’ and cooperate with them over welfare affairs such as the provision of legal services, shelter, and food.³⁰ In summary, the NGO moulds their classification as a welfare association to provide on-the-ground support for migrants while navigating legal loopholes to involve itself in ‘conciliations’ and formal policymaking processes.

Migrant Civil Society in Singapore: Norm Enforcers and Norm Regression Although migrant civil society’s advocacy in Singapore has indeed obtained small, yet significant changes for migrant workers, their overall achievements inevitably represent norm regression, as opposed to norm internalisation. Drawing on McKeown and Morgan’s respective understandings of norm regression and consequences in interacting with dominant institutions, I argue that despite migrant civil society’s successful navigation of Singapore’s limited space for advocacy, their activities and relationship with the PAP reflect those of norm enforcers, thereby enabling norm regression as they reinforce the structures that prevent their advocacy and activism. Morgan suggests that the “consequences of interacting with institutions can be rather different than is expected.”³¹

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²⁴ Charanpal Bal, “Production Politics and Migrant Labour Advocacy in Singapore,” Journal of Contemporary Asia 45, no. 2 (2014): 219– 242.

Bal, 221. ²⁵ Bal, 222. ²⁶ Bal, 225. ²⁷ Bal, 225. ²⁸ Bal, 226. ²⁹ Bal, 226. ³⁰ Bal, 226. ³¹ Rhiannon Morgan, “Political Institutions and Social Movement Dynamics: The Case of the United Nations and the Global Indigenous Movement," International Political Science Review 28, no. 3 (2007): 273.

In the case of migrant civil society in Singapore, Morgan’s understanding can be used to understand civil society’s relationship with the PAP, and whether their advocacy is productive in norm internalisation, or if it further reinforces civil society as subordinate and overlooked actors in the advocacy of migrant rights.

McKeown’s discovery of a blind spot in the literature of norm influence as norm regression³² furthers this discussion, as he suggests that although norms can achieve successful internalisation at the third stage— supposedly with the recognition of norms by the dominant actor—norms can still face a fracture or fluctuation after internalising, resulting in the creation of a fourth phase in the cycle of norm regression.

The PAP’s classification of civil society groups as “voluntary welfare organisations” might enable them to join in ‘conciliations’ through their classificatory loophole,³³ but only further reinforces the Party’s control in limiting the actions of these civil society advocacy groups, thereby marginalising NGOs further. By only having permission to intervene in ‘conciliations’ upon a migrant worker’s referral, NGOs lack the agency to bring cases to ‘conciliation’ themselves. Furthermore, upon being invited to a ‘conciliation’, NGOs face further restrictions, as they can only “‘coach’ and brief workers,”³⁴ as opposed to speaking on their behalf or providing advocacy resources and further assistance. As a result, NGOs are stripped of their agencies and delegitimised as functioning civil society actors. Bal also raises that although minute amendments have indeed been made to migrant labour laws, impacting the Ministry’s approaches towards migrant recruitment and repatriation,³⁵ “there has been no fundamental change to the migrant labour regime — migrant workers still lack legal-political rights and do not have the ability to organise collectively.”³⁶ The more that the civil society of Singapore acts within the restrictive legal framework of the PAP as ‘humanitarian’ groups, the more they play into the government’s delegitimisation of their true abilities in advocacy as civil society organisations.

Conclusion The advocacy of civil society groups in the Philippines and Singapore have achieved much change for their significant migrant populations, both domestically and transnationally. However, due to the distinct sociopolitical spheres of the two nations, their efforts must be assessed differently. Migrant civil society in the Philippines’ relatively open sphere and their increased transnational involvement demonstrate the successes of a norm entrepreneur, while migrant civil society in Singapore’s restrictive sphere of advocacy instead represents norm enforcers that promote norm regression. While migrant civil society’s efforts should be recognised, it is crucial to assess them contextually, within the spheres in which they achieve change. ³² Also referred to as ‘norm death.’ ³³ Bal, 226. ³⁴ Bal, 226. ³⁵ Bal, 230. ³⁶ Bal, 230.

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References Bal, Charanpal. “Production Politics and Migrant Labour Advocacy in Singapore.” Journal of Contemporary Asia 45, no. 2 (2014): 219–42.

“FAQ: Republic Act 9710 or the Magna Carta of Women.” Republic of the Philippines: Philippine Commission on Women. Republic of the Philippines. https://pcw.gov.ph/faq-republic-act-9710-the-magna-carta-of-women/. 36 Bal, 230.

Finnemore, Martha and Kathryn Sikkink. “International Norm Dynamics and Political Change.” International Organization 52, no. 4 (1998): 887-917.

McKeown, Ryder. “Norm Regress: US Revisionism and the Slow Death of the Torture Norm.” International Relations 23, no. 1 (2007): 5-25.

Morgan, Rhiannon. “Political Institutions and Social Movement Dynamics: The Case of the United Nations and the Global Indigenous Movement.” International Political Science Review 28, no. 3 (2007): 373-92.

Rother, Stefan. “The ‘Gold Standard’ for Labour Export? The Role of Civil Society in Shaping Multi-Level Philippine Migration Policies.” Third World Quarterly 43, no. 7 (2022): 1607–26.

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Legal Infantilization of Migrant Women: Deconstructing the Binaries of Care and Control

By Wendy Lin Abstract This paper examines the legal infantilization of migrant women through the lens of care and control, drawing on the works of Nicole Constable and Rhacel Salazar Parreñas. By analyzing transnational legal structures and employer practices, this study deconstructs the contradictory ways in which migration is both a liberating and oppressive process. Constable’s analysis of passports and border mobility reveals how documents that facilitate movement can simultaneously constrain migrant agency. Parreñas’ study of the kafala system highlights how employers’ legal responsibility over migrant women results in restrictions on their autonomy, justified under the guise of protection. Through the intersection of these two frameworks, this paper challenges the binary perception of migration as either empowering or exploitative. Instead, it argues that care and control are interwoven, shaping migration policies and employer practices in ways that reinforce dependency and limit migrant women's freedoms. By unpacking these dynamics, this research calls for a reexamination of transnational labor policies to ensure migrant women’s rights and autonomy are upheld.

Résumé Cet article examine l’infantilisation légale des femmes migrantes à travers le prisme du soin et du contrôle, en s’appuyant sur les travaux de Nicole Constable et Rhacel Salazar Parreñas. En analysant les structures juridiques transnationales et les pratiques des employeurs, cette étude déconstruit les contradictions du processus migratoire, à la fois libérateur et oppressif. L’analyse de Constable sur les passeports et la mobilité frontalière met en évidence comment ces documents, bien qu’ils facilitent les déplacements, restreignent en même temps l’autonomie des migrantes. L’étude de Parreñas sur le système de kafala souligne comment la responsabilité légale des employeurs sur les femmes migrantes entraîne des restrictions à leur autonomie, sous prétexte de protection. En croisant ces deux perspectives, cet article remet en question la perception binaire de la migration comme un phénomène soit émancipateur, soit exploitant. Il soutient plutôt que le soin et le contrôle sont étroitement liés, façonnant les politiques migratoires et les pratiques des employeurs d’une manière qui renforce la dépendance et limite les libertés des femmes migrantes. En explorant ces dynamiques, cette recherche appelle à une réévaluation des politiques du travail transnational afin de garantir le respect des droits et de l’autonomie des femmes migrantes.

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Migration involves a number of different actors, ranging from transnational legal structures to ground-level actors such as employers of migrant workers, brokers, to the migrants themselves. The transnational legal structures, especially the entanglements created by passports and border mobilities, has been investigated by Nicole Constable in a study of their contradictory enablings of care and control. In a similar vein, Rhacel Salazar Parreñas studied the legal infantilization of the kafala system over migrant women in the Middle East. Although these two authors’ research focused on different demographics, their findings, when compiled together, challenge the assumption of migration as a liberatory process, particularly for women.

In studying the contradictory effects of care and control, we can understand the motivations behind employers and brokers in legally infantilising employment. With an understanding of what structures enable employers to conduct legal infantilization of their migrant workers, as well as the impacts of their own biases, the priorities and values of the sending and receiving in the international labour trade are made clear. In this essay, I combine Constable and Parreñas’ understandings to question the complex, yet intrinsic ties of care and control, dissecting them to ultimately challenge the claim of migration as a liberatory process.

Constable investigates the concepts of care and control by exploring the roles of various actors,ranging from employers, brokers, to the governments of sending and receiving countries. She found a shared theme amongst these actors’ practises in how “encapsulation controls migrant workers for the supposed sake of ‘protection’ but… also turns returning workers into targets of extortion.”¹ Centering the discussion on passports and mobility across borders, Constable emphasizes the role of passports as a foundation within the transnational structure that enables the practice of migration. Passports enable entry and exit privileges in migrants’ home and work destinations while providing protections via consulates and embassies while abroad. However, passports dually have oppressive powers, for they can restrict migrants’ freedoms in movement by putting migrants in ambiguous, precarious situations of partial and non-citizenship, even when they have the right supplementary documentation. She details the experience of an Indonesian migrant worker, Ratna, to demonstrate this duality: having her passport largely withheld from her during the process, Ratna only noticed last minute that her name and birthdate had been changed without her consent, and seemingly without reason— she was of legal age to become a migrant worker. Ratna was controlled in the sense that she did not have the agency to hold onto nor oversee the information in her own passport, leading to her loss of all control over her future years of migrant work—her broker not only handled the creation of the passport, but arranged everything for Ratna in Hong Kong from her accommodation to her employer. Changing her passport data would mean compromising her future—in order to remain a migrant worker, Ratna must “stick to that identity” (Constable, 65) by legally compromising her real identity. ¹ Nicole Constable, Passport Entanglements: Protection, Care and Precarious Migrants (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2022), 69.

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However, this control of the broker can be challenged, as their actions can also be seen to be done out of care; their handling of the entire process, from the gathering and production of documents, to the facilitating of Ratna’s physical movements in the airport, can be seen as a series of precautionary measures to prevent suspicion about Ratna’s identity and ensure a smooth passage between borders by preventing risks of deportation. Constable concludes that the binaries of care and control are more complex than we think, as although protection is a common theme and priority for the many actors involved in facilitating migration, the protective encapsulations can actually create more problems than prevent them.

In her assessment of the legal infantilization of migrant women, Parreñas conducted a case study on migrants’ experiences under the kafala system that is used by many Arab states. In the kafala system, migrant women are made into “mere visitors in their country of employment, who are only allowed to stay for the duration of their sponsored employment… [and] do not qualify for permanent residency.”² This legal culpability binds migrants to their employers in a sponsorship-like way, where the employers hold full legal responsibility over them, further feeding into the system that “places undue pressure on employers to discipline and monitor domestic workers.”³ Parreñas found that most employers’ biggest fears centred around the possibility of their migrant workers getting pregnant, and this fear played into their legal infantilization of their migrant workers. She lists a couple ways of how employers infantilize their migrant workers: some employers “restrict [migrant workers] to chaperoned excursions, while others dehumanise them and deny them [a rest day] altogether.”⁴ These employers’ legal infantilizations stem from their lack of trust of their workers, resulting in them restricting workers’ personal autonomy by only permitting them to exit the home under surveillance, or not at all.

Although other employers who “recognise the personhood of domestic workers and grant them a day off” might appear much kinder in their treatment of their workers,⁵ they still play into the narrative of legal infantilization: the employers remain the authoritative figures who can determine when a migrant worker has earned her right to a day of rest. A Lebanese employer interviewed “did not immediately grant his domestic worker the day off,” only extending it “after he felt that she had earned his trust.”⁶ Parreñas also highlights an interview with Maureen, an American employer, who explains her reasons for monitoring her domestic worker’s extracurricular activities. She states, “I’d get in trouble as well for not supervising. . . she’s a child, you know?. . . [the government] treats them like children.”⁷ Not only does Maureen explicitly call out the government system for legally infantilizing domestic workers, but she also emphasizes dually her personal fear of getting in trouble with the law, as well as her care and concern for the migrant worker’s treatment by the law if they become pregnant.

By applying Constable’s dichotomy of care and control to Parreñas’ concept of legal infantilization, we can develop a nuanced understanding of why the different actors that facilitate migration act the way they do.

Constable’s blurring of the line between care and control can be seen clearly in Parreñas’ questioning of employers’ motivations in providing their migrant workers a day off. She asks, “does the fear of criminality warrant the denial of a day off? Or are employers who admit to this fear merely using it as a ruse to hide their real intention—to maximise the labour of domestic workers?”⁸ ² Rhacel Salazar Parreñas, Unfree: Migrant Domestic Work in Arab States (Redwood City: Stanford University Press, 2021), 28. ³ Parreñas, 29. ⁴ Parreñas, 39. ⁵ Parreñas, 39. ⁶ Parreñas, 39. ⁷ Parreñas, 36. ⁸ Parreñas, 42.

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Parreñas’ first question circles around the care of the employer for their migrant worker, should they face legal trouble for getting pregnant, as well as their own self-care as they take a precautionary measure to ensure they will not be liable for any misbehaviours of their migrant workers. Her second question is connected to control; employers might refuse to provide their workers a day off because they wish to remain in control of the workers’ social life and productive output.

The transnational legal structures and legal infantilization of employers are not simply constructed solely out of care or control. Rather, care and control work in tandem: passports might enable the mobility of citizens, but they restrict the movements of migrant workers, and are also controlled by actors like brokers and governments.

However, passports can also provide care, as they protect citizens and enable borders to keep the desired in and undesired out. The legal infantilization of migrant workers by their employers can be questioned through a lens of care and control as well, for their actions of providing rest days can demonstrate a duality of wanting to care for their workers and themselves, as well as exert control over their worker’s mobility and productive abilities. In applying Constable’s dichotomic understandings of care and control to Parreñas’ concept of legal infantilization, we can complicate the understanding of migration as not a singularly liberating or oppressing process, but rather a cycle that needs to be changed.

References Constable, Nicole. “Passports and Ethnographic Entanglements” and “Care and Control.” In Passport Entanglements: Protection, Care and Precarious Migrants, 1-25 and 54-87. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2022.

Parreñas, Rhacel. “Legal Infantilization and the Unfreedom of Servitude.” In Unfree: Migrant Domestic Work in Arab States, 25-7. Redwood City: Stanford University Press, 2021.

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Healing on a Bench: The Impact of Zimbabwe’s Friendship Bench on People Living with HIV

By Nanami Haruyama

December 16, 2024

Abstract The Friendship Bench (FB) is a mental health intervention launched in Zimbabwe in 2006 to address the national gap in mental health care. The program trains lay health workers, known as "grandmothers," to provide Problem-Solving Therapy (PST) to individuals facing mental health challenges. While the FB is open to all, this study focuses on its impact on people living with HIV (PLHIV), who make up over 80% of its users. By examining the FB’s effectiveness, this research highlights a two-step process through which it benefits PLHIV. First, grandmothers use PST to alleviate symptoms of comorbid depression and reduce HIV-related stigma through shared lived experiences. Second, they help PLHIV accept their diagnosis, lowering psychological barriers to antiretroviral therapy (ART) adherence and improving health outcomes. This holistic approach demonstrates that the FB effectively integrates mental and physical health treatment. Using a literature review, this study synthesizes qualitative and quantitative evidence, incorporating insights from Dr. Dixon Chibanda, the FB’s founder. The research underscores the importance of addressing mental health as a key factor in ART adherence and suggests that the FB model can inform holistic healthcare strategies for chronic diseases in the Global South.

Résumé La Friendship Bench (FB) est une intervention en santé mentale lancée au Zimbabwe en 2006 pour combler le manque de soins psychiatriques dans le pays. Ce programme forme des agents de santé communautaires, appelés « grand-mères », à fournir une thérapie de résolution de problèmes (Problem-Solving Therapy, PST) aux personnes souffrant de troubles mentaux. Bien que la FB soit accessible à tous, cette étude se concentre sur son impact auprès des personnes vivant avec le VIH (PVVIH), qui représentent plus de 80 % de ses utilisateurs.

L’efficacité de la FB repose sur un processus en deux étapes. Premièrement, les grand-mères utilisent la PST pour atténuer les symptômes de la dépression comorbide et réduire la stigmatisation liée au VIH grâce à leurs expériences de vie partagées. Deuxièmement, elles aident les PVVIH à accepter leur diagnostic, abaissant ainsi les barrières psychologiques à l’adhésion au traitement antirétroviral (ART) et améliorant les résultats de santé.

Cette approche holistique démontre que la FB intègre efficacement le traitement de la santé mentale et physique. En s’appuyant sur une revue de la littérature, cette étude synthétise des données qualitatives et quantitatives, en intégrant les perspectives du Dr Dixon Chibanda, fondateur de la FB. La recherche souligne l’importance de la santé mentale dans l’adhésion à l’ART et suggère que le modèle de la FB pourrait inspirer des stratégies de soins holistiques pour les maladies chroniques dans le Sud global.

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The Friendship Bench (FB) is a mental health intervention initiative that was launched in Zimbabwe in 2006 to bridge the national mental health treatment gap. The program trains lay health workers, known as ‘grandmothers,’ to deliver Problem-Solving Therapy (PST) to those with mental health disorders. The FB consists of six structured 45-minute sessions on wooden benches on a clinic’s grounds. While the FB is accessible to anyone suffering from mental health challenges, this evaluation examines the physical and mental health impacts that the FB has had on people living with HIV (PLHIV) in Zimbabwe. Over 80% of those using the FB live with HIV, sparking the question: In what ways is Zimbabwe’s Friendship Bench an effective health¹ intervention for PLHIV? By looking at the use of Zimbabwe’s FB by people living with HIV, we can see the intervention is effective for both mental and physical health via a two-step process. First, the grandmothers use the PST framework to alleviate symptoms of comorbid depression and help reduce HIV-related stigma by drawing on their shared lived experiences as HIV patients. Second, by enabling PLHIV to come to terms with their diagnosis, the grandmothers lower their psychological barriers to receiving antiretroviral therapy (ART), which motivates them to continue their treatments and improve their outcomes. The grandmothers’ ability to help PLHIV on these two levels is significant because it demonstrates that the FB model can function as a holistic treatment method, healing both mental and physical health.

Methodology I will utilize a literature review as the primary methodology for this development evaluation to synthesize readings and scholarly articles to extract expert analyses, qualitative insights, and quantitative evidence. The sources used in this evaluation were chosen for their connection to key themes, such as stigma mitigation and improved antiretroviral therapy adherence in PLHIV. To structure my analysis, I looked at two interconnected bodies of literature: one focusing on the mental health benefits of the Friendship Bench and the other on its impact on HIV-positive patients. In the mental health literature, I prioritized articles that assessed the effectiveness of Problem-Solving Therapy, while in the HIV-focused literature, I identified studies that link FB participation with HIV stigma and ART adherence. Analyzing these distinct but overlapping bodies of work allowed me to consolidate the FB’s effectiveness under a broader framework. I supplemented this literature review with a TED Talk by Dr. Dixon Chibanda, the FB’s founder; while TED talks are not peer-reviewed, Dr. Chibanda’s first-hand insights regarding the project’s initial implementation enhance the FB’s contextualization. The data analysis methodology I employed was a theory-driven evaluation as I examined why the FB model works and the mechanisms that lead to its success for PLHIV. However, I must acknowledge my position as a remote researcher in Canada, where I have limited data collection resources and cannot conduct interviews, surveys, or focus groups. As such, while I have compiled evidence from diverse sources, this methodology is not an exhaustive representation of the lived experiences of PLHIV in Zimbabwe. ¹ Dixon Chibanda et al., “Lay Health Workers’ Experience of Delivering a Problem-Solving Therapy Intervention for Common Mental Disorders Among People Living with HIV: A Qualitative Study from Zimbabwe.” Community

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Mental Health Challenges in Zimbabwe: Context and Consequences Depression is highly prevalent in Zimbabwe, yet the national mental health system’s dire lack of affordable, illness-specific treatment options hinders patients’ recovery. Dr. Chibanda, one of the founders of the FB, highlights the shortage of mental health professionals, noting that Zimbabwe, a country of 14 million, has only 12 psychiatrists. While there is no direct translation of the word ‘depression’ in the Shona language, the local notion of “thinking too much”—referred to as kufungisisa—is closely linked to depression and is a common mental health struggle. The localized notion of depression, coupled with the lack of mental health² professionals, makes it challenging for individuals to recognize the need for targeted mental health care. As a result, when individuals seek help and visit health services, they are trapped in a “vicious cycle of poverty, depression, illness, disability, increased health costs, inadequate health care, and further impoverishment” due to the limited available resources. When patients³ eventually do visit healthcare workers, they are often prescribed non-specific treatment like vitamins, and few consult a mental health professional, receiving ineffective, non-targeted treatment. This systematic failure leaves many without effective treatment, exacerbating the mental health crisis.

The consequences of the lack of mental health infrastructure particularly harm PLHIV. Common mental disorders, including depression, are comorbid among this group, meaning depression exists simultaneously alongside HIV. Zimbabwe has one of the highest adult HIV prevalence of the Southern African region, and there are around 1.3 million PLHIV. The⁴ prevalence of depression among PLHIV is estimated to be 68.5%; in fact, the co-occurrence of depression is twice as high in people living with HIV compared to those without HIV, as the stress associated with living with such a serious condition can affect an individual’s mental well-being. These interconnected challenges laid the groundwork for the FB to emerge as an ⁵ evidence-based mental health intervention capable of tackling both depression and HIV.

The Problem-Solving Therapy Framework and its Impacts on Comorbid Depression The Friendship Bench can alleviate the symptoms of comorbid depression through the Problem-Solving Therapy (PST) model, as the structured, sequential steps that it outlines allow PLHIV to identify key stressors and actionable solutions. PST integrates two critical components: problem orientation, which involves recognizing and appraising one’s problems, and problem-solving, which fosters a general disposition that problems can be resolved through one’s own abilities and consistent effort. Zimbabwe’s FB uses the PST framework⁶ and creates a four-step intervention: Opening of the Mind (Kuvhura pfungwa), which includes introductions and creating rapport; Uplifting (kusimudzira), which includes discussing their listed problems and deciding which problem to focus on; Strengthening (kusimbisa) which refers to encouraging the patient to brainstorm solutions and develop an action plan; and Strengthening Further (kusimbisisa) which reinforces achievements made during kusimbisa. ² Dixon Chibanda, “Why I train grandmothers to treat depression,” TED, 2018, video. ³ Vikram Patel et al., “Depression in developing countries: lessons from Zimbabwe,” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.) 322 (2001): 483. ⁴ “Zimbabwe | UNAIDS.” UNAIDS, 2023. ⁵ Primrose Nyamayaro et al., “A Task-Shifting Problem-Solving Therapy Intervention for Depression and Barriers to Antiretroviral Therapy Adherence for People Living With HIV in Zimbabwe: Case Series,” Cognitive Behavior Practice27, no.1 (2020): 85. ⁶ Alissa Bell and Thomas D’Zurilla, “Problem-solving therapy for depression: A meta-analysis,” Clinical Psychology Review 29, no. 4 (2009): 348.

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While PST is a Western-developed psychological intervention, the grandmothers have adapted its format to accommodate local patients, as many are not able to attend sessions regularly; the modified PST ensures that the patient can leave with a specific, measurable, and achievable solution even after the first visit. In this way, PST acts as a guide to help individuals cope⁷ more effectively with stress in their lives.

PST’s impact is particularly significant for PLHIV, as the symptoms of comorbid depression can be alleviated through the model. Depression manifests through a range of emotional, cognitive, and physical symptoms, such as feelings of hopelessness, suicidal thoughts, and irritability. Specifically, PLHIV often experience overwhelming stressors like ⁸ medical expenses and fears about the future, which heighten feelings of hopelessness. The PST approach acts as both a guide and an accountability mechanism for patients to regain a sense of agency and control in their lives, even in the face of unexpected events like an HIV diagnosis. Through the “Opening of the Mind,” clients are in free flow and allowed to express their emotions openly, reducing feelings of loneliness or sadness. With “Strengthening,” patients can ⁹ commit to an action plan that counters depressive, ruminative thinking. As a result, by going through PST, PLHIV can foster confidence and resilience, which alleviate the symptoms of depression. Notably, PST’s flexibility ensures it can address a wide range of stressors beyond HIV treatment issues, allowing PLHIV to prioritize concerns that are most important to them.

A grandmother recounts how the problems that their HIV-positive client wanted to focus on were not as intuitive; despite being HIV-positive and not taking medication, the problem that the client wanted to solve was that of expensive school fees for her child. In this way, PST can ¹⁰ address and identify solutions for interconnected stressors directly contributing to a patient’s well-being. This demonstrates how PST can improve the mental health of PLHIV by tackling their comorbid depression and providing an adaptive orientation toward life by effectively implementing problem-solving steps and behaviors.

The Role of Grandmothers and Stigma Mitigation While Problem-Solving Therapy addresses the psychological symptoms of depression, the grandmothers’ dual role as trusted pillars of the community, as well as individuals with shared lived experiences, plays a pivotal role in mitigating the pervasive external and internal stigma associated with mental health and HIV. The grandmothers have a high degree of trust associated with their longstanding integration into the community, allowing for the “Opening of the Mind” to occur more smoothly. Many grandmothers have lived in their communities for decades, have seen their clients at the local markets, and even helped them during previous cholera outbreaks. Because their presence has been marked by time, they have established¹¹ themselves as reliable and knowledgeable sources of wisdom and support in the community’s social fabric. This trust facilitates the “Opening of the Mind” phase, which is an important first step, as clients feel comfortable sharing their vulnerabilities and fears about being HIV-positive. Small gestures, like touching the client’s hand or offering tissue paper, further establish a connection with the client and reinforce the grandmother’s nurturing and compassionate nature. ⁷ Dixon Chibanda et al., “Lay Health Workers’ Experience of Delivering a Problem-Solving Therapy,” 146. ⁸ Alissa Bell and Thomas D’Zurilla, “Problem-solving therapy for depression: A meta-analysis,” 350. ⁹ Dixon Chibanda et al., “Lay Health Workers’ Experience of Delivering a Problem-Solving Therapy,” 147. ¹⁰ Chibanda et al., 147. ¹¹ Chibanda et al., 147.

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Therefore, the inviting environment that the grandmothers create helps tackle the stigma¹² associated with discussing mental health. Because the clients trust the grandmothers, they experience a sense of relief when they first engage in the “Opening the mind” process because they know that their feelings of depression will not be used against them. Hence, the worries regarding stigma in speaking up about depression and mental health are diminished in the presence of the grandmothers.

By referring to their own life experiences, the grandmothers’ identities as HIV-positive further elevate the sense of peace and acceptance that clients feel towards their HIV status by fostering a sense of understanding and solidarity. Although not all grandmothers are HIV-positive, some are, and others have witnessed their loved ones navigate an HIV diagnosis and treatment. This shared experience allows them to empathize deeply with their clients' struggles. One grandmother recounted their time at the FB, explaining that “because I also live with HIV, when I show understanding (empathy), they are grateful,” while a patient commented, “When the counselor told me that she too was living with HIV I felt an instant relief (kusununguka) and felt I could open up to her.” Grandmothers can tackle the internal stigma¹³ that patients hold against their HIV status and help them come to terms with it by normalizing the reality of living with HIV, helping them challenge the feelings of guilt and self-blame associated with the disease. This process demystifies the disease and reframes it as something manageable, which is a mindset that further facilitates the PST phases, as clients see their problems not as unconquerable, but as opportunities to take proactive steps towards improving their well-being. As a result, PLHIV are more likely to come to terms with their diagnosis and mitigate the internal stigma they feel towards the disease.

Improving ART Adherence: Physical Health Benefits of the Friendship Bench Through the grandmothers’ helping PLHIV accept their HIV status coupled with the grandmothers' role as an accountability mechanism, the FB model can help to improve antiretroviral therapy (ART) adherence and enhance patients’ well-being. ART, a treatment for HIV, involves taking a combination of HIV medicines on a daily basis. ART’s goal is to reduce and suppress the amount of HIV in a patient’s blood so that the level of HIV is too low to be detected by a viral load test. While ART cannot cure HIV, it can help patients live longer and reduce the risk of HIV transmission. However, PLHIV often struggle with ART adherence due¹⁵ to depressive symptoms, a lack of understanding about the treatment, or difficulties accepting the lifelong nature of it.

Feelings of stigma and denial surrounding their HIV diagnosis can further hinder adherence, creating a cycle whereby poor mental health exacerbates physical health challenges. The aforementioned role that grandmothers have in helping patients accept their HIV status is a strong motivator for continuing with ART, as PLHIV no longer sees their condition as unchangeable and actively seeks out ways to mitigate its effects.

Moreover, the grandmothers act as a form of accountability and insist that their patients be punctual and regular with ART, urging them never to stop it. During their sessions, the grandmothers would speak about the benefits of adherence to ART, with a patient stating, “Grandmother helped me take my medication and also explained that it helps my immune system to fight against the virus and also that my viral load doesn’t shoot up.”

Ultimately, empirical evidence highlights these outcomes.

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¹² Chibanda et al., 146. ¹³ Chibanda et al., 149. ¹⁴ Ilhame Ounasafi et al., “Impact of Friendship Bench problem-solving therapy on adherence to ART in young people living with HIV in Zimbabwe: A qualitative study,” PloS One 16 (2021): 7. ¹⁵ “HIV Treatment.” National Institute of Health, 2021.

A 2019 study led¹⁶ by Dr. Chibanda and other psychiatrists revealed that PLHIV who had recently completed FB counseling in Harare “consistently reported improved ART adherence following FB counseling,” with patients showing signs of improved health like “fewer headaches, weight gain, improved skin, and fewer hospital visits” due to their adherence to ART. Similarly, a study in 2024 that¹⁷ tested the viral load of patients with comorbid HIV and common mental disorders also confirmed that those who received the FB intervention “were more likely to maintain HIV viral suppression than those who received only standard of care mental health treatment.”¹⁸ Hence, the FB model’s impacts are not limited to mental health and lead to tangible improvements in physical health outcomes, enabling PLHIV to regain control over their bodies.

The Significance of Holistic Treatment The FB intervention effectively addresses the interconnectedness of mental and physical health in PLHIV, exemplifying its potential to be a model for holistic treatment for health practitioners in the Global South. The FB reinforces a feedback loop whereby mental health improvements lead to ART adherence with better physical health, resulting in positive emotional states. Hence, physical health benefits are predicated on mental health improvements, demonstrating that health practitioners must examine both realms in tandem to improve one’s overall well-being. Holistic treatment is particularly important because it acknowledges that mental and physical are deeply intertwined, especially for conditions like HIV, where stigma and emotional distress can significantly affect treatment adherence and its outcomes. Moreover, the FB’s holistic approach has broader implications for healthcare delivery, where mental and physical health are often treated separately. The holistic treatment method can be adapted to other chronic conditions like tuberculosis and diabetes, which are the leading causes of death in Africa. Similar to HIV, they also require long-term management and can be influenced by a patient’s emotional well-being.¹⁹ A holistic treatment will enhance the efficacy of expensive medical treatments and increase the likelihood that they will succeed, making healthcare more cost-effective. Thus, the FB is a model for integrating mental health resources to complement physical health needs, improving patient outcomes, and providing a multidimensional approach to treating chronic diseases. ¹⁶ Ilhame Ounasafi et al., “Impact of Friendship Bench,” 9. ¹⁷ Ounasafi et al., 9. ¹⁸ Victoria Simms et al., “Effect of a brief psychological intervention for common mental disorders on HIV viral suppression: A nonrandomized controlled study of the Friendship Bench in Zimbabwe,” PloS (2024): 11. ¹⁹ Alissa Bell and Thomas D’Zurilla, “Problem-solving therapy for depression: A meta-analysis,” Clinical Psychology Review 29, no. 4 (2009): 350.

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Conclusion Ultimately, this essay argued that Zimbabwe’s FB is an effective health intervention for PLHIV because it firstly utilizes the PST framework to alleviate depressive symptoms and mitigate HIV-related stigma through the grandmother’s compassionate, experienced nature. As a result, patients are motivated to continue ART, suppressing viral levels and improving their physical well-being. This demonstrates the power of holistic treatment methods and the transformative case study that the FB presents for addressing chronic diseases in underdeveloped countries. The FB redefines what is possible in global health by introducing grandmothers into the equation and reimaging healthcare to be more attuned to the complex realities of patients’ lives. In closing, the FB represents the future of global healthcare and the potential for multifaceted, culturally informed health interventions.

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References Bell, Alissa, and Thomas D'Zurilla. “Problem-solving therapy for depression: A meta-analysis.” Clinical Psychology Review 29, no. 4 (2009): 348-53.

Chibanda, Dixon. “Why I train grandmothers to treat depression.” TED, 2018, video, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cprp_EjVtwA&ab_channel=TED. Chibanda, Dixon, Frances Cowan, Ruth Verhey, Debra Machando, Melanie Abas, and Crick Lund. “Lay Health Workers’ Experience of Delivering a Problem-Solving Therapy Intervention for Common Mental Disorders Among People Living with HIV: A Qualitative Study from Zimbabwe.” Community Mental Health Journal 53 (2017): 143–53 “HIV Treatment.” National Institute of Health, 2021, http://hivinfo.nih.gov/understanding-hiv/fact-sheets/hiv-treatment-basics.

Nyamayaro, Primrose, Tarisai Bere, Jessica F. Magidson et al. “A Task-Shifting Problem-Solving Therapy Intervention for Depression and Barriers to Antiretroviral Therapy Adherence for People Living With HIV in Zimbabwe: Case Series.” Cognitive Behavior Practice 27, no.1 (2020): 84-92.

Ouansafi, Ilhame, Dixon Chibanda, Epiphania Munetsi, and Victoria Simms. “Impact of Friendship Bench problem-solving therapy on adherence to ART in young people living with HIV in Zimbabwe: A qualitative study.” PloS One 16 (2021).

Patel, Vikram, Melanie Abas, Jeremy Broadhead, Charles Todd, and Anthony Reeler. “Depression in developing countries: lessons from Zimbabwe.” BMJ (Clinical Research Ed.) 322 (2001): 482-4.

Simms, Victoria, Melanie Abas, Monika Müller et al. “Effect of a brief psychological intervention for common mental disorders on HIV viral suppression: A non-randomized controlled study of the Friendship Bench in Zimbabwe.” PloS (2024).

“What are the leading causes of death in the African Region?” Integrated African Health Observatory. World Health Organization, 2023.

“Zimbabwe | UNAIDS.” UNAIDS, 2023, https://www.unaids.org/en/regionscountries/countries/zimbabwe.

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Contested Acceptance: How Temporary Protected Status Limits the Socioeconomic Integration of Venezuelan Refugees in Colombia

By Lucia Collindres Cruz Abstract The mass migration of Venezuelan refugees to Colombia has been met with international praise for the country’s implementation of Temporary Protected Status (EPTVs). However, this policy fails to provide adequate structural mechanisms for full socioeconomic integration. While Venezuelan migrants are granted legal status, they remain largely confined to informal labor markets, exposing them to exploitation and economic instability.

Gendered barriers further exacerbate these challenges, disproportionately affecting women who face limited employment opportunities, wage discrimination, and social exclusion. This paper evaluates the effectiveness of EPTVs in facilitating the socioeconomic inclusion of Venezuelan refugees in Colombia, using a combination of policy analysis, literature review, and qualitative interviews. The findings indicate that despite Colombia’s opendoor approach, implementation gaps hinder meaningful integration, particularly for women. Drawing from successful local initiatives in the Global South, this study proposes solutions aimed at bridging these gaps, emphasizing the need for policies that recognize and address the intersectional challenges faced by Venezuelan refugees.

Resume La migration massive des réfugiés vénézuéliens vers la Colombie a été saluée à l’échelle internationale en raison de la mise en place du Statut de Protection Temporaire (EPTVs). Cependant, cette politique ne fournit pas les mécanismes structurels nécessaires pour une intégration socio-économique complète. Bien que les migrants vénézuéliens bénéficient d’un statut légal, ils restent en grande partie confinés à des marchés du travail informels, les exposant ainsi à l’exploitation et à l’instabilité économique. Ces difficultés sont aggravées par des barrières de genre, affectant particulièrement les femmes qui rencontrent des obstacles à l’emploi, une discrimination salariale et une exclusion sociale. Cet article évalue l’efficacité des EPTVs dans l’inclusion socio-économique des réfugiés vénézuéliens en Colombie à travers une analyse des politiques, une revue de la littérature et des entretiens qualitatifs. Les résultats montrent que, malgré une politique d’accueil ouverte, des lacunes dans la mise en œuvre entravent une intégration significative, en particulier pour les femmes. En s’inspirant d’initiatives locales réussies dans les pays du Sud global, cette étude propose des solutions pour combler ces lacunes, mettant en avant la nécessité de politiques prenant en compte les défis intersectionnels auxquels sont confrontés les réfugiés vénézuéliens.

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Over the past decade, the movement of Venezuelan refugees across the Americas has emerged as one of the major migratory patterns of the 21st century. According to the United Nations Refugee Agency, “Nearly 8 million Venezuelans are displaced globally, with the majority — more than 6.5 million — currently residing in Latin America and the Caribbean. This is the largest forced displacement crisis ever in Latin America.” Fleeing an authoritarian¹ dictatorship, violence, gang warfare, and systemic food and medicine shortages, many Venezuelan immigrants have settled in neighbouring Colombia. Colombia has been lauded internationally for offering temporary protected status to all Venezuelan refugees, without preconditions, in the form of documents known as Estatutos Temporeros de Protección para Migrantes Venezolanos (EPTVs or Temporary Protected Status for Venezuelan immigrants). The² problem with EPTVs is that they aim to allow Venezuelan immigrants to settle in Colombia without providing any structural mechanisms necessary for full integration into society. Migrants are offered limited opportunities and resources to achieve inclusion in the workforce and, by extension, in society. Although the country has been praised for its open admission of Venezuelan refugees, the outcome of this protocol reflects a story of contested acceptance. The legal protections introduced by the Colombian government in response to the large influx of migrants escaping the Venezuelan crisis have led to implementation gaps in providing options for economic mobilization within migrant groups; these gaps are amplified for women seeking equitable labour conditions who suffer disproportionately in environments with prominent gendered barriers.

Methodology In this paper, I aim to evaluate the effectiveness of the current temporary legal protections for Venezuelan refugees seeking asylum in neighbouring Colombia. The distinctive aspect of Colombia’s execution of Temporary Protections is that the government’s aims align with those of its target population, a legal, easy transition into Colombian society. However, these measures do not enable Venezuelan migrants to integrate into the Colombian labour market, as they lack considerations that reflect social conditions. For women, these conditions are often significantly worse, creating additional barriers to social acceptance. Throughout the paper, I indirectly triangulate different methods to accurately represent stakeholders’ lived experiences due to government statutes. To address implementation gaps in immigration policy, I use a combination of literary review strategies, assessing government policy and interpretations of it stemming from academic and institutional sources, and outcome harvesting³ from selected interviews within a peer-reviewed publication.

¹ USA for UNHCR, "Venezuela Crisis Explained," USA for UNHCR. ² Colombian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ABC of the Statute of Temporary Protection for Venezuelan Migrants, 2021. ³ Jos Vaessen, Sebastian Lemire, and Barbara Befani, Evaluation of International Development Interventions: An Overview of Approaches and Methods (Washington, DC: World Bank, 2020), https://ieg.worldbankgroup.org/sites/default/files/Data/Evaluation/files/MethodsSourceBook.pdf.

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These interviews are directly extracted from female participants of the program. By analyzing various scholarly and government sources, I make an argument explaining how policies like Temporary Protected Status have prevented Venezuelan immigrants from integrating into Colombian society. Then, drawing from womencentred development initiatives conducted in other “Global South” countries, I suggest potential solutions to bridge these gaps. Although these solutions are focused on addressing gendered problems, they contain broader strategies that can be applied to incorporate all? Venezuelan immigrants into society in a way that affirms their agency, rather than neglecting it.

Temporary protections are a type of immigration policy permitting immigrants to reside in a receiving country based on conditions in their country of origin. The absence of legal status for migrants fails to prevent the arrival of individuals escaping life-threatening situations. Instead, it exacerbates conditions that foster illicit activities such as human trafficking, smuggling, bribery of port officials, and other unlawful practices. In Colombia, temporary protections, in the form of EPTVs, permit Venezuelan refugees to “take part in any legal activity or occupation in the country, including employment, without detriment to compliance with the requirements established in the Colombian legal system for the exercise of regulated activities.”⁴ In theory, this policy would allow for the legal integration of Venezuelan immigrants, consisting of both workforce and societal inclusion. The government’s aim with this policy is to “transition Venezuelan migrants from temporary legal status to an ordinary migratory regime, that is, that the Venezuelan migrants who take advantage of the measure will have a period of 10 years to acquire a resident visa.”⁵ Within these 10 years, refugees are expected to seek employment, establish a family presence, and create a life within Colombia to maintain a legal residence.

However, even with open acceptance, illegality persists in Colombia among migrant workers, with most of them working in informal settings. This refers to unregulated labour, with employers hiring workers without contracts. According to a report by the International Labour Organization, “In 2021, 71.9% of Venezuelans with regular status in Colombia worked informally.”⁶ Since EPTVs lack any form of wording that protects or promotes workers’ rights for refugees, most people entering the country are forced to resort to informal labour to survive.

Furthermore, the government provides no resources or protections for migrant workers beyond temporary legal status. Employers are thus encouraged to exploit immigrants due to their lack of knowledge and absence of labour rights. This problem of informality in the labour market makes it extremely difficult for Venezuelans to receive employment in formal settings. Issues with degree and diploma certification have become increasingly prevalent, which has resulted in Venezuelans finding jobs that often fail to reflect their workforce capabilities.

Although protections like those outlined in EPTVs grant refugees access to the labour market, traditional antiimmigrant sentiments pose refugees as a threat to the livelihood of native residents, thus creating fostering inclusion. In national publications, “They (Venezuelans) are portrayed as people who survive by joining the informal economy, as shown in the following example: ‘There are kiosks where migrants can sell their hair to make wigs, hoping to buy a bus ticket’ (Ebus, July 31, 2019). Venezuelans’ life in Colombia is associated with verbs related to survival such as ‘bearing’ or ‘fighting.’”⁷ ⁴ Colombian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ABC of the Statute of Temporary Protection for Venezuelan Migrants ⁵ Colombian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, ABC of the Statute of Temporary Protection for Venezuelan Migrants ⁶ Jennifer Gordon Lovett and ILO Regional Office for Latin America and the Caribbean, Decent Work for Displaced People: Lessons from the Experiences of Venezuelan Migrant and Refugee Workers in Colombia and Brazil, 10. ⁷ Felipe Aliaga Sáez, Angelo Flórez De Andrade, and Nicolás Villa Moya, “Venezuelan Migration and Crime in Colombia: Migrant Stigmatization in the Media and Its Connection to a Crisis of (Failed) Integration of Said Migrants,” in Crises and Migration, ed. Enrique Coraza De Los Santos and Luis Alfredo Arriola Vega, Latin American Societies (Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2022), 32.

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Within Colombian society, a Venezuelan identity is synonymous with a life of suffering and misfortune, rendering them incapable of achieving upward social mobility. Venezuelan immigrants are thus expected to accept lower wages and unfair labour conditions in exchange for legal status.

Broadly granted temporary protections, as seen in Colombia, use inclusive terminology that aims to address the needs of all target population members. However, neutral language ignores societal conditions that undermine economic mobility for marginalized groups. Policies like the EPTVs omit gendered language and other stakeholder considerations that prevent the full integration of Venezuelans into the Colombian economy for all groups. These oversights disproportionately affect Venezuelan refugees who identify as women. For example, “unemployment is much higher for recent migrant women (34.6 percent), compared to recent migrant men (14.3 percent)”⁸ due to gendered barriers and additional pressures to join the informal economy. These constraints are further highlighted by the fact that almost no difference exists between the educational attainment of migrant men and women. Within Venezuelan immigrants, there are “almost equivalent numbers of migrant women and men (who) have completed secondary school (52 percent of women and 53% of men), similarly 23 percent of women and 27 percent of men have completed primary school, and 9.5 percent of women and 6 percent of men possess an undergraduate degree.”⁹ Although they obtain the same level of education, migrant women are hired less frequently and less susceptible to societal inclusion than their male counterparts. EPTVs fail to account for gendered norms and stereotypes that apply to women across Latin America, representing a distinct gap in government policy in addressing stakeholder needs.

Olivia Woldemikael et al.’s “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia” highlights how gender-based violence serves as an impediment to societal inclusion. The source uses interviews directly extracted from migrant women to explain the precarity of the situation, which explicitly results from a lack of protection from EPTVs. According to the report: Venezuelan women are told that in Colombia, a woman who is mistreated by her partner must carry out an “acción de tutela” [an application for the protection of human rights] because the local authorities will not receive the complaint if the woman reporting is of Venezuelan nationality. The authorities tell them that the complaint is not valid if the injuries were not severe enough to be sent to a hospital or cause death.¹⁰ Domestic violence and human rights violations are issues that exist in different jurisdictions. One exists in the realm of policing local crime and the latter in that of a national or international court. Although domestic abuse is an extreme example, temporary protections disregard the gap in knowledge migrants may have regarding legal and other tools available to them in a receiving country. Venezuelan women are dissuaded from reporting dangerous situations to the police, since their inputs are disregarded and seen as incredulous. ⁸ Olivia Woldemikael et al., “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia,” CGD Policy Paper 259, 6. ⁹ Olivia Woldemikael et al., “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia,” CGD Policy Paper 259, 7. ¹⁰ Olivia Woldemikael et al., “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia,” CGD Policy Paper 259, 14.

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Stereotypes that depict migrant women as “prostitutes” and “promiscuous”¹¹ are extremely prevalent within Colombia, adding to disbelief and contributing to a general block in social integration. How can Venezuelan women be expected to economically mobilize if they are sexualized, and thus dehumanized, to the point that they are neglected aid in situations of extreme violence? Even in circumstances where migrant women have access to government resources and report abuse, they generally lack specific documentation, making it harder to utilize government resources. EPTVs fail to protect migrant women in moments of extreme suffering.

Even in ideal circumstances, temporary protections neglect “established” domestic roles existing in both Colombia and Venezuela. Profound gendered norms, like those of actualizing motherhood, are quite prevalent in Latin America, inadvertently blocking local integration for Venezuelan immigrants. Migrant women often have no support networks within their new country outside of their immediate families. Their options are reduced to either taking care of children or participating in income-generating labour (in informal settings). In fact, women are likely to migrate because of factors associated with family reunification, highlighting how they are viewed as traditional caretakers.¹² Although gendered distinctions regarding labour exist worldwide, they impact migrants on a different scale. Ultimately, their survival depends on economic success within their new country, as they have no home to return to. The ability to integrate should be available to all migrants, regardless of the social structures and factors preventing women’s participation in upward social mobility.

Local solutions could serve as a potential solution to addressing concerns of socioeconomic mobility for female migrants. In lieu of government protections or considerations of women’s issues, local actors and organizations could collaborate to create communities for refugees who have lost theirs. Local solutions are defined as complementary actions facilitating the transition to local integration as a durable solution. These measures are temporal and allow refugees to participate mainly in the host country's economic, social, and cultural aspects.¹³ Such strategies have been proven to work in environments where local solutions may be the only ones that can address systemic issues. In Nepal, for example, survivor-centred justice systems have been created to address instances of sexual violence. By working with a female Justice on the Nepali Supreme Court, the Forum for Women, Law and Development was able to “bridge the information gap between CEDAW (The Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination and Violence Against Women) and international human rights protocols, with the existing knowledge of Nepali judges.”¹⁴ This example from Nepal highlights the need for change through collaboration. Disadvantaged communities, like Venezuelan women in Colombia, could seek representation in the Colombian legal system to try and expand their knowledge of how it operates.

Furthermore, creating communities that bridge Venezuelan and Colombian women to help migrants access legal resources and mechanisms could also work as a local solution to address the information gaps in EPTVs and government policy. Creating solidarity amongst women who experience similar societal prejudices could serve as a strategy to combat xenophobia. After all, “autonomy may not be so treasured in societies where the cultural, religious, economic, and social conditions dictate a great measure of interdependence.”¹⁵

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¹¹ Olivia Woldemikael et al., “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia,” CGD Policy Paper ¹² Daniela Acosta Gálvez, “Challenges of Migrant and Refugee Women in Local Integration Processes: Case of Venezuela And Colombia ‘Welcome All,’” Proceedings of The Global Conference on Women’s Studies 1, no. 1, 97, ¹³ Daniela Acosta Gálvez, “Challenges of Migrant and Refugee Women in Local Integration Processes: Case of Venezuela And Colombia ‘Welcome All,’” Proceedings of The Global Conference on Women’s Studies 1, no. 1, 86–87, ¹⁴ Kamardip Singh, Stories of Change: Strengthening CEDAW Implementation in South & Southeast Asia, 24, https://www.iwrawap.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/SIJC-Project-Stories-of-Change_compressed.pdf. ¹⁵ Penelope Andrews, From Cape Town to Kabul: Rethinking Strategies for Pursuing Women’s Human Rights, 1st ed., 5.

These networks may consist of migrant women with legal concerns and Colombian natives who have the resources to help them adapt to their newfound cultural settings. As development evaluators, we must always advocate for agency and mobilization amongst the targeted populations we analyze. By establishing networks between Colombian and Venezuelan women, realistic development that operates within a specific cultural context can be achieved.

Although Colombia has been commended for providing these refugees with temporary protected status, EPTVs offer a limited amount of assistance for complete socioeconomic integration. Due to these protections’ failure to provide the structural mechanisms required for economic and social inclusion, many migrants, particularly women, have limited access to the labour market. The implementation of these rights has shown notable inadequacies in delivering equitable labour conditions, especially for women who face gendered barriers to inclusion. In Colombia, “The terms used to identify migrants in news items vary depending on whether migrants are depicted as victims of violence, to deny their responsibility for crimes, or portrayed as victims of forced recruitment.”¹⁶ If migrants are portrayed in a way that reduces them to passive survivors of misfortune, how can they be expected to mobilize socially? The admission of refugees in Colombia must transition from one of broad acceptance to one that can address the rights of all, even marginalized, migrants. ¹⁶ Felipe Aliaga Sáez, Angelo Flórez De Andrade, and Nicolás Villa Moya, “Venezuelan Migration and Crime in Colombia: Migrant Stigmatization in the Media and Its Connection to a Crisis of (Failed) Integration of Said Migrants,” in Crises and Migration, ed. Enrique Coraza De Los Santos and Luis Alfredo Arriola Vega, Latin American Societies (Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2022), 33.

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References Aliaga Sáez, Felipe, Angelo Flórez De Andrade, and Nicolás Villa Moya. “Venezuelan Migration and Crime in Colombia: Migrant Stigmatization in the Media and Its Connection to a Crisis of (Failed) Integration of Said Migrants.” In Crises and Migration, edited by Enrique Coraza De Los Santos and Luis Alfredo Arriola Vega, 25–41. Latin American Societies. Cham: Springer International Publishing, 2022. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-07059-4_2.

Acosta Gálvez, Daniela. “Challenges of Migrant and Refugee Women in Local Integration Processes: Case of Venezuela And Colombia ‘Welcome All.’” Proceedings of The Global Conference on Women’s Studies 1, no. 1 (August 22, 2023): 85–102. https://doi.org/10.33422/womensconf.v1i1.77.

Andrews, Penelope. From Cape Town to Kabul: Rethinking Strategies for Pursuing Women’s Human Rights. 1st ed. London: Routledge, 2016. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781315583297.

Colombian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. ABC of the Statute of Temporary Protection for Venezuelan Migrants. Accessed December 3, 2024. https://www.cancilleria.gov.co/sites/default/files/FOTOS2020/abc_estatuto_al_migrante-ingles ok.pdf.

Lovett, Jennifer Gordon and ILO Regional Office for Latin America and the Caribbean. Decent Work for Displaced People: Lessons from the Experiences of Venezuelan Migrant and Refugee Workers in Colombia and Brazil. Lima: ILO, 2023. https://doi.org/10.54394/SRHA6481.

Singh, Kamardip, Stories of Change, Strengthening CEDAW Implementation in South & Southeast Asia (2019). https://www.iwrawap.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/StIC-Project-Stories-of Change_compressed.pdf.

USA for UNHCR. "Venezuela Crisis Explained." USA for UNHCR. Accessed December 15, 2024. https://www.unrefugees.org/news/venezuela-crisis-explained/.

Vaessen, Jos, Sebastian Lemire, and Barbara Befani. Evaluation of International Development Interventions: An Overview of Approaches and Methods. Washington, DC: World Bank, 2020. https://ieg.worldbankgroup.org/sites/default/files/Data/Evaluation/files/MethodsSourceBook.pdf.

Woldemikael, Olivia, Stephanie López Villamil, María Alejandra Uribe, and Julio Daly. “Overcoming Barriers to Venezuelan Women’s Inclusion and Participation in Colombia.” CGD Policy Paper 259 (Washington, DC: Center for Global Development, 2022), https://www.cgdev.org/publication/overcoming-barriers-venezuelan-womens-inclusion-and participation-colombia.

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Changing Landscapes: The Post-Industrial Restructuring and Gentrification of Saint-Henri

By Gabriela Flaschberger Abstract Saint-Henri, a historically working-class neighborhood in Montreal, has undergone significant transformation due to post-industrial restructuring and gentrification. Once an industrial hub, the decline of manufacturing and the revitalization of the Lachine Canal have spurred real estate development, attracting wealthier residents and businesses. This shift has led to the displacement of long-term, lower-income residents, altering the socioeconomic and cultural fabric of the area. Gentrification in Saint-Henri reflects broader urban trends, where historic working-class neighborhoods are reshaped to accommodate middle- and upper-class populations. This paper examines the historical evolution of Saint-Henri, the forces driving its redevelopment, and the socioeconomic impacts of gentrification, including rising property values, cultural displacement, and food insecurity.

Additionally, it explores grassroots resistance movements that seek to protect affordable housing and community identity. By analyzing these dynamics, the paper highlights the tension between urban renewal and social equity, emphasizing the need for policies that balance economic growth with the preservation of local heritage and inclusivity.

Resume Saint-Henri, un quartier historiquement ouvrier de Montréal, a connu une transformation majeure en raison de la restructuration post-industrielle et de la gentrification. Autrefois un centre industriel, le déclin du secteur manufacturier et la revitalisation du canal de Lachine ont favorisé le développement immobilier, attirant des résidents et des entreprises plus aisés. Ce changement a entraîné le déplacement des habitants à faible revenu et modifié le tissu socio-économique et culturel du quartier. La gentrification de Saint-Henri illustre une tendance urbaine plus large, où les anciens quartiers ouvriers sont remodelés pour accueillir des populations de classe moyenne et supérieure. Cet article examine l’évolution historique de Saint-Henri, les facteurs de sa transformation et les impacts socio-économiques de la gentrification, tels que l’augmentation des prix de l’immobilier, la perte culturelle et l’insécurité alimentaire. Il explore également les mouvements de résistance communautaire qui militent pour la préservation du logement abordable et de l’identité locale. En analysant ces dynamiques, l’article met en lumière la tension entre renouvellement urbain et justice sociale, soulignant l’importance de politiques conciliant développement économique et inclusion sociale.

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Saint-Henri, a historically working-class enclave in Montreal, has undergone a profound transformation in recent decades. It is now celebrated for its unique character, drawing in both locals and tourists to its trendy cafes, boutique stores, and renovated industrial spaces. However, this new identity is rooted in a complex process of gentrification that has notably changed the borough's social dynamics. The gentrification in SaintHenri reflects a broader trend in post-industrial neighbourhoods, where increasing property values and the commodification of previously industrial spaces have altered the area. This transition has led to the displacement of longstanding, lower-income residents in favour of wealthier newcomers, changing the neighbourhood's cultural landscape to serve a more affluent demographic.

This paper explores the gentrification of Saint-Henri, analyzing its evolution from a working-class industrial center in the late 19th and early 20th centuries to a trendy district for middle- and upper-class inhabitants. The primary factors driving this substantial change include revitalization initiatives, increased demand for real estate, and the conversion of industrial buildings into high-end residential and commercial properties. Through fieldwork conducted in the neighbourhood, I have observed firsthand the visible contrasts between the area’s past and present, as well as the socio-economic disparities that persist. Despite these changes, resistance efforts by community organizations have sought to preserve the neighbourhood’s affordability and traditional culture, underscoring the strength of collective action. By examining the historical background of Saint-Henri and the forces behind its redevelopment, this essay highlights how gentrification has redefined the neighbourhood's identity and socioeconomic landscape.

The Historical Context of Saint-Henri Saint-Henri’s origins are deeply rooted in Montreal’s industrial past. The Lachine Canal, a former industrial waterway delineating the neighbourhood’s southern periphery, played an important role in shaping the area’s economy and transforming it into a working-class hub during the late 19th and early 20th centuries¹. The canal attracted businesses that relied on water transport for goods, leading to the establishment of factories, warehouses, and manufacturing plants that employed most residents. Industries such as textile and machinery production thrived, making Saint-Henri an integral part of Montreal’s industrial landscape².

Throughout the mid-20th century, Saint-Henri underwent dramatic socioeconomic changes, which would eventually fundamentally alter the character of the area. The shutdown of Dominion Textile’s plant in 1967 represented a turning point, signalling the start of a decline in industrial activity³. Between 1967 and 1988, the neighbourhood experienced a severe decrease in industrial employment, with over 70% of jobs disappearing during this period⁴. Factories and businesses that had once supported the Saint-Henri community began to close, leaving individuals without stable employment. This loss of industrial jobs had a cascading impact, increasing rates of poverty and underinvestment in public services⁵. The compounded effects of these economic challenges left residents struggling to adapt. ¹ (Scozzari, 2007) ² (Burill, 2021) ³ (Burill, 2021) ⁴ (High et al., 2020) ⁵ (Twigge Molecey, 2014)

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As the processes of industrial decline dismantled the local industries, many residents migrated in search of better opportunities⁶. This exodus further deteriorated Saint-Henri both economically and socially. The decay of the once-thriving industrial infrastructure led to the deterioration of residential areas, contributing to the emergence of a lower-income, marginalized population⁷. The remnants of this industrial past still stand as visible markers of the neighbourhood's history. During my fieldwork in Saint-Henri, I observed these traces, particularly in the old factory buildings along the canal. While many have been repurposed for modern uses, their brick exterior still reflects their original industrial origins. The sharp contrast between the neighbourhood’s past and present serves as a reminder of how its socioeconomic fabric was drastically changed due to deindustrialization. This difficult period also set the stage for the neighbourhood’s eventual transformation, which brought in new residents and redevelopment projects in the late 20th century.

Post-Industrial Restructuring In the late 20th and early 21st centuries, the Lachine Canal experienced a significant transformation, marking a crucial moment in the post-industrial restructuring of Saint-Henri. Both deindustrialization in the borough and the opening of the St. Lawrence Seaway in 1959, which allowed ships to bypass the canal entirely, led to the canal being neglected⁸. Heavily polluted by industrial waste, the Lachine Canal became a symbol of Saint-Henri's misfortune. However, with the rise of urban renewal projects and a growing focus on environmental sustainability, public and private efforts to decontaminate the canal began.

In 1978, the federal government recognized the canal’s historical and cultural significance by making it a National Historic Site, which eventually led to its restoration (Parks Canada Agency, 2023). The most notable improvements followed the government’s allocation of $100 million in the 1990s towards a project aimed at revitalizing the canal through the removal of industrial debris and the creation of infrastructure to support recreational activities⁹. This mass decontamination paved the way for its transformation into a park for outdoor activities such as cycling, jogging, and kayaking¹⁰. The Lachine Canal and its surrounding areas were gradually converted into vibrant green spaces, becoming a key attraction that incentivized the settling in of new, wealthy residents. This transformation is an example of gentrification, a process in which the arrival of more affluent individuals and businesses leads to rising property values and the displacement of lower-income residents. In this case, the revitalization of the canal and its surrounding areas, coupled with public investments such as bike paths, created an environment that attracted wealthier newcomers and spurred an influx of private development¹¹.

The redevelopment of the Lachine Canal profoundly impacted the economic landscape of Saint-Henri, especially through the repurposing of former industrial buildings into lofts, condominiums, and commercial spaces in the 1990s. Between 1996 and 2006, the economic demographic of the neighbourhood underwent dramatic shifts, with median household incomes and property values increasing¹². Luxury projects such as the Château SaintAmbroise (former Dominion Textile building) and Le Redpath condos capitalized on the canal’s new identity as a recreational area, offering wealthy potential buyers views of the now aesthetically pleasing waterway.¹³

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⁶ (Scozzari, 2007) ⁷ (Twigge-Molecey, 2014) ⁸ (Burill, 2021) ⁹ (Lamarca, 2020) ¹⁰ (Montpetit, 2016) ¹¹ (Tam, 2009) ¹² (Twigge-Molecey, 2013) ¹³ (Lamarca, 2020)

This transformation came at a cost, with long-time working-class residents facing displacement due to rising housing costs. This revitalization project highlights the clash between preserving the heritage of a neighbourhood and fostering economic growth.

This transformation of the Lachine Canal reflects a larger trend in post-industrial neighbourhoods referred to as "green gentrification", where environmentally friendly renewal projects become tools for attracting wealthier people and, consequently, replacing lower-income residents¹⁴. In Saint-Henri, green initiatives, such as the implementation of green alleys, were praised as successes in improving urban spaces¹⁵. However, these projects have also faced criticism, as residents have claimed that they exacerbate gentrification and exclude those from lower-income backgrounds¹⁶. Green spaces do not always benefit everyone in an area, and they have become increasingly privatized or commercialized in recent years¹⁷. In my fieldwork, I noticed that certain sections of the canal are only available to private clubs, businesses, or residential areas. Public investments that improved the neighbourhood can now only be enjoyed by a select, wealthier few. For instance, the Quai des Eclusiers owns a part of the Lachine Canal public park, and residents use it as a private boating dock, which is surrounded by an aluminum railing with signs reading "private property". This illustrates how public investments intended to beautify and improve urban areas can unintentionally widen economic disparities, prioritizing exclusivity over inclusivity in redeveloped neighbourhoods like Saint Henri.

Gentrification Dynamics in Saint-Henri The gentrification of Saint-Henri has been characterized by significant social and economic displacement, with high property values pushing long-term low-income tenants out of the neighbourhood. The enclave’s growing reputation as a trendy locale resulted in these skyrocketing real estate prices. The appeal of grit as glamour has played a significant role in this transformation, as formerly utilitarian industrial buildings and rugged architecture are redesigned into chic residential lofts. These developments increasingly cater to the newer demographic of wealthier individuals, exposing a prioritization of aesthetic appeal over community protection.¹⁸ Gentrification is not just an economic process but also a deeply social one, displacing families who have inhabited Saint-Henri for generations, forcing them to relocate to more affordable areas.

This transformation has also brought about cultural alienation. The wealthy have introduced new cultural norms and businesses to the neighbourhood that do not align with the traditional ways of life. For example, cafes and high-end restaurants have replaced locally owned establishments which provided people with affordable goods, but many older residents felt that these new businesses did not meet the needs of the original population.¹⁹ These shifts in the cultural fabric have led to feelings of estrangement and loss of identity for long-term locals, which has consequently impacted their mental health.²⁰ Residents not only face physical displacement and the disappearance of a once-familiar home, but also the loss of established community ties and support networks.

This exclusion and disempowerment of a formerly dominant community is being disregarded due to the simultaneous economic growth that has accompanied it. ¹⁴ (García-Lamarca & Vansintjan, 2021) ¹⁵ (Lamarca, 2020) ¹⁶ (Montpetit, 2016) ¹⁷ (García-Lamarca & Vansintjan, 2021) ¹⁸ Tam, 2009 ¹⁹ (Burill, 2020) ²⁰ Kohn, 2013

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Lower-income households have been marginalized over the past few decades as Saint-Henri has been rebranded by newcomers who do not understand the area's cultural history. High-end businesses further worsen feelings of neglect, as it sends the message that the traditional culture is being replaced by a more commodified landscape.

The demographic shifts in Saint-Henri have also been a central component of its gentrification process.

Historically, the neighbourhood was home to a French-Canadian, Irish, and Black working-class population; however, over the last few decades, the area has seen a shift from lower-income renters to upper-middle-class homeowners, young professionals, and an increasing number of students.²¹ Alongside these shifts in the demographic, Saint-Henri’s relationship to food security and accessibility has also been affected. Long-standing grocery stores catering to the working-class population have been replaced by boutiques, artisanal shops, and organic grocery stores marketing to a wealthier consumer base.²² The Atwater Market, a historical institution, has experienced similar changes as well, with its traditional vendors being replaced by higher-end alternatives while maintaining a facade of authenticity.²³ During my field observations, I noticed that many people in the neighbourhood appeared middle or upper-class.

Their attire often reflected a more sophisticated style, with younger individuals wearing trendy clothing and accessories. Luxury cars were also a common sight near the main markets. In contrast, small family-owned shops still attracted older customers who spoke Quebecois French, highlighting the divide between the newer, wealthier residents and the long-term locals. With the influx of newcomers and modern developments altering Saint-Henri, the divide between the two communities continues to deepen.

Community Resistance In response to gentrification in Saint-Henri, several grassroots initiatives have started resistance movements against various unwelcome projects occurring in the neighbourhood. These groups are actively advocating for affordable housing. À nous le Malting!, for example, is a movement which successfully opposed the conversion of the abandoned Canada Malting Factory into a luxury condo development.²⁴ Being a historic industrial site in the borough, the activists insisted that the site be used for social housing instead. Similarly, the Plan de Développement Populaire (PDP) is a grassroots organization in Saint-Henri advocating for infrastructure investments that prioritize low-income residents, such as accessible housing, public spaces, and community centers.²⁵ With over 2,000 residents involved, the PDP has gained significant traction in shaping local development, successfully pushing for plans that prioritize the community's needs and protect residents' right to stay in their homes, rather than catering to corporate interests. Together, these movements are challenging the wave of high-end development that has taken hold of the area. Their collective efforts highlight the strength of community-driven initiatives in ensuring that revitalization benefits everyone, not just the affluent few.

Conclusion The gentrification of Saint-Henri highlights the tensions between urban redevelopment and the displacement of locals, revealing how economic growth and aesthetic changes often come at the expense of local cultural identity. While the area’s transformation introduced new recreational spaces, it has also marginalized the working-class demographic that once dominated the neighbourhood. The rising property values and new cultural norms have disrupted traditions and instilled a sense of alienation in long-term residents. However, community resistance movements have shown that grassroots efforts can advocate for more inclusive development strategies that prioritize all inhabitants. Ultimately, the gentrification of Saint-Henri reflects broader urban patterns, where economic progress and cultural preservation must be balanced to prevent the erasure of the identities and histories that shape a neighbourhood.

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²¹ (Montpetit, 2016) ²² (Burill, 2020) ²³ (Twigge Molecey, 2014) ²⁴ (Lamarca, 2020) ²⁵ (García Lamarca & Vansintjan, 2021)

References Burrill, François. “Deindustrialization, Gender, and Working-Class Militancy in Saint-Henri, Montréal.” Labour / Le Travail 91 (2023): 89–114. https://doi.org/10.52975/llt.2023v91.007.

Burrill, François. “Health, Wellness, and Class Domination in Gentrifying Saint-Henri, Montréal.” Network in Canadian History & Environment | Nouvelle initiative Canadienne en histoire de l'environnement, 2020.

Burrill, François. History, Memory, and Struggle in Saint-Henri, Montreal. Doctoral dissertation, Department of History, Montreal, Quebec, 2021.

García-Lamarca, Melissa, and Andreas Vansintjan. “Ordinary and Extraordinary Greening: Tensions amidst Saint-Henri, Montréal's Development Boom.” In The Green City and Social Injustice, 187–99. Routledge, 2021.

High, Steven, Lachance G. Goulet, Marc Duchesneau, and Dominique Guay-Bélanger. “Interlocking Lives: Employment Mobility and Family Fixity in Three Gentrifying Neighbourhoods of Montreal.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 44, no.

3 (2020): 505–20. https://doi.org/10.1111/1468-2427.12728.

Kohn, Margaret. “What Is Wrong with Gentrification?” Urban Research & Practice 6, no. 3 (2013): 297–310. https://doi.org/10.1080/17535069.2013.846006.

Lamarca, Melissa García. “How One of Montréal’s Poorest Neighborhoods Became Ripe for Green Gentrification.” Barcelona Lab for Urban Environmental Justice and Sustainability, March 24, 2020. https://www.bcnuej.org/2020/03/24/how-one-of-montrealspoorest-neighborhoods-became-ripe-for-green-gentrification/.

Montpetit, Jonathan. “How Montreal's Saint-Henri Neighbourhood Has Become a Battleground in Canada's Gentrification Debate.”

CBC News, May 30, 2016. https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/montreal/st-henri-gentrification-debate-1.3602312.

Parks Canada Agency, Government of Canada. “20 Years of Recreational Navigation on the Lachine Canal: A Retrospective on a Colossal Project.”

Lachine Canal National Historic Site, 2023. https://parks.canada.ca/lhnnhs/qc/canallachine/culture/ingenierieengineering/reouverture-reopening.

Scozzari, Adriana. Understanding Gentrification and Its Implications for a Revitalized St. Henri. Doctoral dissertation, Concordia University, 2007.

Tam, Evelyn. Disputed Post-Industrial Landscapes: An Enquiry into the "Loft-Living" Cultural Model in Montreal's Saint-Henri.

Master’s thesis, Montreal, Quebec, Canada, 2009.

Twigge-Molecey, Amy. “Experiences of Displacement in a Neighbourhood Undergoing Gentrification and Mega-Project Development.” Research Report Series RR13-03E. Montréal: CURA Making Megaprojects Work for Communities - Mégaprojets au service des communautés, 2013.

Twigge-Molecey, Amy. “Exploring Resident Experiences of Indirect Displacement in a Neighbourhood Undergoing Displacement: The Case of Saint-Henri in Montréal.” Canadian Journal of Urban Research 23, no. 1 (2014).

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How Canada Has Escaped Punishment for the Crime of Genocide

By Iona Riga Abstract This paper examines how Canada has historically and presently evaded recognition and punishment for its genocide against Indigenous peoples. The study focuses on Canada’s role in the 1948 United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (UNGC), particularly its efforts to exclude cultural genocide from the convention’s definition. The Indian Residential School (IRS) system, which sought to destroy Indigenous language, culture, and identity, aligns with the initial concept of cultural genocide, yet Canada’s legal maneuvering has prevented accountability under international law. Further, domestic legal frameworks and political interests shield Canada from prosecution, as courts have been reluctant to consider genocide claims, and legal provisions limit cases to post-1998 crimes. Despite some political recognition of ongoing genocide, systemic issues such as the foster care system, intergenerational trauma, and missing and murdered Indigenous women persist. This paper argues that Canada’s avoidance of accountability enables the continued marginalization and suffering of Indigenous communities.

Resume Cet article examine comment le Canada a historiquement et continue aujourd’hui d’échapper à la reconnaissance et à la sanction de son génocide contre les peuples autochtones. L’étude se concentre sur le rôle du Canada dans la Convention des Nations Unies de 1948 pour la prévention et la répression du crime de génocide (UNGC), en particulier ses efforts pour exclure le génocide culturel de la définition officielle. Le système des pensionnats autochtones, qui visait la destruction de la langue, de la culture et de l’identité autochtones, correspond à la notion initiale de génocide culturel, mais les stratégies juridiques du Canada ont empêché toute responsabilité devant le droit international. De plus, les cadres juridiques nationaux et les intérêts politiques protègent le pays de poursuites, les tribunaux hésitant à reconnaître les revendications de génocide et les lois restreignant les cas aux crimes commis après 1998. Malgré une reconnaissance politique partielle du génocide en cours, des problèmes systémiques tels que le système de placement familial, le traumatisme intergénérationnel et les femmes autochtones disparues et assassinées persistent. Cet article soutient que l’évitement de la responsabilité par le Canada perpétue la marginalisation et la souffrance des communautés autochtones.

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Former British Prime Minister Winston Churchill famously described the crimes committed by the Nazis during World War II as amounting to a crime without a name, due to their severity and immorality. Polish lawyer Raphael Lemkin ultimately assigned this crime the name of ‘genocide’, combining the Greek genos, meaning ‘race’ or ‘tribe’, with the Latin -cide, meaning ‘killing’. In 1948, in the context of a post-Holocaust world, the United Nations held the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide (UNGC), which has provided the international community with the following definition of genocide ever since. By the terms of the UNGC, genocide refers to: “any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, as such (a) killing members of the group; (b) causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; (c ) deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part; (d) imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; (e) forcibly transferring children of their group to another group.”¹ Many have taken issue with this narrow definition, but of particular interest in this paper is the exclusion of cultural genocide or ethnocide from the UNGC. This essay will examine how the Canadian state has, in the past and present, taken action to prevent recognition and punishment for its historical and ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples in Canada.

Fearing prosecution for domestic acts of genocide, a group of countries refused to sign the UNGC should it include mentions of cultural genocide or ethnocide. This group included Canada, the United States, and a large majority of Western European countries. In a telegram from Ottawa, the Canadian UN delegate was urged to “support or initiate any move for the deletion of Article three on ‘Cultural’ Genocide” at the UNGC.² The draft of the convention at that time contained the mention of genocide as also being “any deliberate act committed with the intent to destroy the language, religion or culture of a national, racial or religious group on grounds of national or racial origin or religious belief”, which included the prohibition of oral or written language, and the destruction of “cultural institutions and objects of the group.”³ The draft also quoted Lemkin’s argument that “a racial, national or religious group cannot continue to exist unless it preserves its spirit and moral unity” and his belief that “there was no reason why [cultural genocide] should not be included in the international crime of genocide.”⁴ Canadian officials were aware that if cultural genocide was included in the final draft, they could face punishment in an international court for the crimes committed in the context of the Indian Residential School system (IRS), and ultimately they were successful in having it removed. ¹ UN Secretariat, Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide: The Secretariat and Ad Hoc Committee Drafts.

First Draft of the Genocide Convention, May 1947, UN Doc. ² Brean, Joseph. “Canada was ready to abandon 1948 accord if UN didn't remove 'cultural genocide' ban, records reveal.” National Post, 8 June 2015. https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/canada-threatened-to-abandon-1948-accord-if-un-d idnt-remove-cultural-genocide-banrecords-reveal. ³ Shamiran Mako, “Cultural Genocide and Key International Instruments: Framing the Indigenous Experience,” 182. ⁴ UN Secretariat, Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide: The Secretariat and Ad Hoc Committee Drafts.

First Draft of the Genocide Convention, May 1947, UN Doc.

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The IRS system clearly violated what the UNGC originally defined as cultural genocide, by aiming at the destruction of Indigenous language, culture, and community.

Nehiyaw scholar Tamara Starblanket, in a book-length study on how the IRS was a violation of the UNGC, writes of the IRS’s stated goal being “to strip [Indigenous children] of their cultural identities and ‘remake’ them into ‘end products’ deemed useful to Canada’s colonizing and ever-growing settler population.”⁵ The deputy minister of Indian Affairs at the time, Duncan Campbell Scott, infamously went further in stating that the object of the IRS system was to rid the country of the “Indian problem”, and to “continue until there is not a single Indian in Canada that has not been absorbed into the body politics and there is no Indian question, and no Indian Department.”⁶ In addition to physical and sexual abuse, the IRS system inflicted “inhuman and degrading treatment” on its students, involving “systematic assaults on Aboriginal self-identity,”⁷ and a specific focus on the eradication of Indigenous language. A common punishment for language offenders was sewing needles being pushed through the tongue, as the daughter of an IRS survivor recounted her father’s experience in the 1920s.⁸ The Canadian state, for the moment, thus cannot be tried for cultural genocide under international law. However, other barriers exist preventing the possibility of proving this crime was perpetrated by Canada, even under the UNGC definition. Domestic interests and legal particularities prevent the Canadian state from being held accountable for its crimes. Since the UNGC became treaty law in 1948, it has been found to be inapplicable to crimes committed or that began prior to 1948.⁹ Additionally, the Canadian Criminal Code prescribes that only cases of genocide that occurred after the international adoption of the Rome Statute in July 1998 are prosecutable.¹⁰ On the other hand, Canadian courts have been found to “lack the discretion and, apparently, the will to consider such claims [of genocide].”¹¹ The state also has domestic interests to consider. In an interview with CTV, scholar David B. Macdonald explains that, for the duration of the IRS, there were Liberal or Conservative governments and oppositions in power. Thus, a government that admitted this genocide would be “admitting that the genocide occurred by the hands of institutions that still function more or less now as they did before.”¹² Despite the aforementioned measures, taken to protect the Canadian state from punishment for its crimes, the genocide of Indigenous peoples in Canada is ongoing. ⁴ UN Secretariat, Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide: The Secretariat and Ad Hoc Committee Drafts.

First Draft of the Genocide Convention, May 1947, UN Doc. ⁵ Tamara Starblanket, Suffer the Little Children: Genocide, Indigenous Nations and the Canadian State (Clarity Press, Incorporated, 2018), 22. ⁶ David B. MacDonald, “Genocide in The Indian Residential Schools,” in Colonial Genocide in Indigenous North America, ed. Andrew Woolford et al. (Durham: Duke University Press, 2014), 1002. ⁷ David MacDonald, “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada,” 1002. ⁸ David MacDonald, “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada,” 431. ⁹ David MacDonald, “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada,” 438. ¹⁰ David MacDonald, “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada,” 436. ¹¹ David MacDonald, “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada,” 441. ¹² Maan Alhmidi, “Trudeau's Acknowledgment of Indigenous Genocide Could Have Legal Impacts: Experts,” CTV News.

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Inuk politician Mumilaaq Qaqqaq has compared the current disproportionate levels of Indigenous children in the foster system to the residential school system, stating that the “residential schools and genocide waged against us has evolved into the foster care system.”¹³ A suicide epidemic, intergenerational trauma, and the disproportionate number of missing and murdered Indigenous women also constitute long-term consequences of the genocide perpetrated by the Canadian state. Some progress has been made in terms of recognition, such as Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s acceptance of the 2019 inquiry into the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women’s finding that genocide did occur. However, it remains to be seen whether appropriate legal action will follow. ¹³ Wright, Teresa. “Foster care is modern-day residential school system: Inuk MP Mumilaaq Qaqqaq.” CTV News, 4 June 2021.

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References Alhmidi, Maan. “Trudeau's acknowledgment of Indigenous genocide could have legal impacts: experts.” CTV News, 5 June 2021, https://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/trudeau-s-acknowledgment-of-indigenous-genocide-coul d-have-legal-impacts-experts-1.5457668.

Accessed 8 November 2023.

Brean, Joseph. “Canada was ready to abandon 1948 accord if UN didn't remove 'cultural genocide' ban, records reveal.” National Post, 8

June

2015,

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genocide-ban-records-reveal. Accessed 8 November 2023.

Hall, Anthony J. “A National or International Crime? Canada’s Indian Residential Schools and the Genocide Convention.” Genocide Studies International, vol. 12, no. 1, 2018, pp. 72–91. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/26986088. Accessed 12 Nov. 2023.

Hankivsky, Olena, and Rita Kaur Dhamoon. “Which Genocide Matters the Most? An Intersectionality Analysis of the Canadian Museum of Human Ri.” Canadian Journal of Political Science, vol. 46, no. 4, 2013, pp. 899-920. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/43298395. Accessed 12 November 2023.

MacDonald, David. “First Nations, Residential Schools, and the Americanization of the Holocaust: Rewriting Indigenous History in the United States and Canada.” Canadian Journal of Political Science, vol. 40, no. 4, 2007, pp. 995-1015. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/25166181. Accessed 8 November 2023.

MacDonald, David B. “Genocide in The Indian Residential Schools.” Colonial Genocide in Indigenous North America, edited by Andrew Woolford, et al., Duke University Press, 2014. JSTOR. Accessed 8 November 2023.

MacDonald, David B., and Graham Hudson. “The Genocide Question and Indian Residential Schools in Canada.” Canadian Journal of Political Science, vol. 45, no. 2, 2012, pp. 427-449. JSTOR, https://www.jstor.org/stable/23320978. Accessed 12 November 2023.

Mako, Shamiran. “Cultural Genocide and Key International Instruments: Framing the Indigenous Experience.” International Journal on Minority and Group Rights 19, no. 2 (2012): 175–94. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24675651. Accessed 10 November 2023.

Starblanket, Tamara. Suffer the Little Children: Genocide, Indigenous Nations and the Canadian State. Clarity Press, Incorporated, 2018. Accessed 10 November 2023 UN Secretariat. 1947. Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. The Secretariat and Ad Hoc Committee Drafts. First Draft of the Genocide Convention. May. UN Doc. e/447. Accessed 8 November 2023.

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Meet the authors From Revolution to Reform: Contrasting AntiCorruption Outcomes in Ukraine and Georgia

by Sasha Utkina Sasha is a U2 student majoring in Political Science and International Development Studies at McGill University. Her academic interests focus on social justice, immigration, and grassroot activism, with a particular emphasis on Eastern Europe. She has been involved in mentoring students, tutoring languages, and assisting refugees and asylum seekers with settlement processes. Through her work with various organizations, she has developed a strong interest in policymaking. Outside the classroom, Oleksandra enjoys practicing yoga, hiking, and exploring Montreal’s cultural scene. Whether attending art events or engaging in discussions about global affairs, she values spaces that foster connection and critical thinking.

Healing on a Bench: The Impact of Zimbabwe’s Friendship Bench on People Living with HIV

by Nanami Haruyama Nanami is a U3 student majoring in Political Science with double minors in International Development and Social Entrepreneurship. She is interested in the intersection of the private sector and public policy, particularly in areas of energy and technology infrastructure. On campus, she has been involved in the Japanese Students’ Association, TEDxMcGill, the Political Science Students’ Association and Consulting Academy McGill. Outside of her studies, Nanami enjoys cooking/baking, reading, and exploring new cafes in Montreal.

Contested Acceptance: How Temporary Protected Status Limits the Socioeconomic Integration of Venezuelan Refugees in Colombia

by Lucia Collindres Cruz ucia is a U2 student pursuing an Honours degree in International Development Studies, with minors in Economics and Philosophy. Her research focuses on gaps in sustainable development policy, human rights issues, and immigration reform, with a regional focus on Latin America. Beyond academics, she serves as the Mentorship and Community Information Coordinator for the International Development Studies Students’ Association. In her free time, she enjoys exploring the city, making jewelry, and cooking for friends Migrants’ Rights Advocacy in the Philippines and Singapore: An Empirical and Comparative Case Study through the Norm Cycle Framework

by Wendy Lin Legal Infantilization of Migrant Women: Deconstructing the Binaries of Care and Control

by Wendy Lin Wendy is a U3 student pursuing a Joint Honours degree in International Development and Cultural Studies, with a Minor in East Asian Language and Literature. She is a McCall MacBain International Fellow and enjoys learning about different cultures and contexts. Her research interests revolve largely around migration--she is particularly interested in return migration and migrant identity. She is actively involved in several clubs on campus, including TEDxMcGill, McGill Policy Association, and Flux: International Relations Review. In her free time, Wendy enjoys bouldering, photography, figure skating, and reading ethnographies.

El Salvador – The Complicity of the State in the Normalization of Gender-Based Violence

by Anne-Émilie Demaison, Noemi Jacquemet, Lara Cevasco Anne-Emilie is a U3 student majoring in Political Science and International Development. Originally from Paris, her main area of interest is Latin America, with a particular focus on comparative authoritarian regimes, democratic backsliding, political violence, and social movements. She is currently considering either pursuing postgraduate research or working with children to help improve access to education. Beyond her academic work, Anne-Emilie has a long-standing passion for theatre and performing arts - which she has been practicing for the past 12 years - and absolutely loves musicals !

Changing Landscapes: The Post-Industrial Restructuring and Gentrification of Saint-Henri

by Gabriela Flaschberger Gabriela is a U2 Honours student in International Development Studies with double minors in Environment and Urban Studies at McGill University.

Her academic interests center on sustainability, public policy, and urban development. Gabriela is a member of the International Development Studies Student Association and the McGill Office of Sustainability, where she works to create inclusive and accessible events for McGill students. Having lived in six countries, Gabriela is passionate about international development and aspires to specialize in policymaking to make a meaningful global impact.

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International Development.

Throughout her academic journey, Noemi has cultivated a keen

Genocide

by Iona Riga

interest in research, particularly in the areas of peace operations, conflict resolution, and foreign policy

Iona is a third year political science student at McGill

analysis. Beyond academics, she has been actively engaged in initiatives addressing food insecurity by

University, with minors in International Development and Italian Studies. Her academic

repurposing food waste for communities in need.

Since September 2024, she serves as Vice President

interests mainly lie in the fields of international security and conflict studies, and she hopes to

of Outreach at MealCare McGill, where she leads and collaborates with a dedicated team to expand the organization's impact.

pursue a masters relating to these topics. She is also a contributor to the McGill International Review, the content team for Women in International Security McGill and Journalists for Human Rights McGill.

Lara is a U3 student pursuing a major in Political Science with a double minor in Economics and International Development. Her main interests at McGill focus on International Security, particularly in the areas of women's rights and conflict analysis.

Half Argentinian, she has a strong sense of community and has been actively involved in the McGill and Montreal Latin-American communities as VP External for the Spanish and Latin American Students’ Association (SLASA). Outside of her studies, Lara enjoys singing and playing the piano, as well as exploring new spots around Montreal with her best friends.

Meet the editors Editor-in-Chief Thelma Gauthier is in her final year at McGill University, majoring in Political Science with a minor in Hispanic Studies. This year, she joined Chrysalis as Editor-in-Chief and is particularly interested in contemporary social justice issues. She also writes for The Catalyst and Circle of Fashion, further honing her journalistic skills.

Passionate about global affairs, she hopes to pursue a career in international law.

Layout Editor Anastasia Van Ryswyk-Vezoniarakis is in her third year at McGill University, majoring in Economics and a Minor in Management. This is her first year on the Chrysalis Editorial team and has creative experience working for Circle of Fashion McGill as VP Marketing, Magazine and Blog as well as founder of the McGill Exchange Guide. She is passionate about political economy, trade policy and international law and wishes pursue her studies in global organization.

IDSSA VP Publications Sophia Ocana is in her fourth year at McGill University, majoring in International Development Studies with a double minor in Anthropology and Communications. She served this year as the Editor-In-Chief of Catalyst Publications, and was previously a graphic designer as well as the creative director. She is very interested in Latin American development, and hopes to conduct ethnographic research in Guatemala for her thesis.

Editorial Board Eva Rajzman is in her final year at McGill University, pursuing a major in Political Science and two minors in International Development and Islamic Studies. She was previously a Managing Editor for the McGill Journal of Political Science in 2022 and joined the Chrysalis editorial board this year. She is interested in environmental policy and conflict transformation and hopes to continue her studies and research in these fields.

Gabrielle Chen is in her second year at McGill University, majoring in Ecological Determinants of Health in Society with a minor in Immunology and Microbiology. This is her first year as a member of the Chrysalis team, but she began her editorial career at the Terra Journal, McGill's Undergraduate Environmental journal. Her interests lie in social and structural determinants of health, and she hopes to continue her studies in these fields after undergrad.

Hannah Hipolito is in her second year at McGill University pursuing a joint honours degree in Sociology and Political Science. This is her first year on the Chrysalis Editorial Board. After graduating, she hopes to attend grad school and obtain a PhD in political sociology with a focus in research on women in politics.

Alexandria Sasso is a U3 student pursuing a BA in Environment and Development, with a minor in International Development. She joined Chrysalis this fall as a staff editor and is excited to contribute to spreading awareness on essential topics in development. Her interests include climate resilience, gender equality, and poverty reduction.

Lila Bruun is in her first year at McGill University, majoring in International Development Studies and Political Science. This is her first year as a member of the Chrysalis Editorial Board. After finishing her degree, Lila hopes to pursue her interests in international development and human rights.

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