Samaya Argüello

Review – A Secret Australia Revealed by the Wikileaks Exposés

The book A Secret Australia Revealed by the Wikileaks Exposés, edited by Felicity Ruby and Peter Cronau, was released at the time where Julian Assange, creator of Wikileaks, was awaiting his extradition trial to the United States for the publication of classified and sensitive information relating to the War on Terror.

Media coverage of the fact that Assange is facing 175 years in jail for 18 charges, including 17 under the US Espionage Act of 1917, is closely tied in with what both Ruby and Cronau argue is a “propaganda campaign to smear the name of Julian Assange…from the information he has made available to all, about how governments lie and betray their own citizens”. The book, they note, is in response to the impact that Wikileaks, and by default Assange, has had on Australia. These impacts range from a diverse lot of subject matter such as human rights, freedom of press, war crimes, governmental secrecy. These approaches are always underpinned by the idea of Wikileaks and Assange as publisher and journalist.

The book features contributions by well-known Australian writers, politicians, academics, and those in the legal profession. Most of the chapters are succinct, and for readers interested in an evidence-based approach to some of the statements made, accessible with endnote references to support key insights and arguments.

The book’s first chapter,‘Wikileaks and Human Rights’, is written by Jennifer Robinson, lawyer to Assange. Robinson writes about the fact that Australia only has an implied right to freedom of communication. She argues that the protection of whistle-blowers is paramount to ensuring a robust democracy – particularly where governments are active in incursions upon established human rights standards. The continual detention of Assange, noted for publishing material that linked the United States to War Crimes is a controversial figure, to some he is the champion of free speech, to others he is considered to be dangerous, even a “high tech terrorist”. The continual publication of confidential cables related to States and their internal affairs drew the wrath of such countries as the US, UK and Australia who argued that their release threatened national security, with some commentators decrying treason and Assange himself as enemy of the state.

As each chapter is written by a different author, the book offers unique perspectives on Wikileaks and the impact the organisation has had on topics as diverse as Australia’s role in the Five Eyes Intelligence Oversight and Review Council, Australia’s foreign policy and of course, the concept of whistleblowing. Julian Burnside, barrister and human rights advocate, writes briefly about WikiLeaks as a case study into US implications of releasing classified and sensitive material – alleged war crimes footage – by noting the arrest and subsequent detainment of Chelsea Manning for “aiding the enemy”. Former senior Australian public servant and Adjunct Professor Paul Barratt’s more substantial chapter leans heavily towards setting out the Australian legal landscape in terms of national security classification of information and publishing of material. He contrasts this with the US governance of classified information, noting that “the state of the law and practice regarding the passing of classified information to journalists seems to be a mess in the US, UK and Australia”.

This chapter is followed by Associate Professor Benedetta Brevini’s chapter that further delves into both the US and UK’s responses to Wikileaks and the curious continued silence by the Australian government in commenting about the continued detainment of Assange, an Australian citizen. Silence from the Australian Federal Government, in effectively advocating for a detained Australian citizen, is a thread that runs throughout the book. Indeed, Dr Lissa Johnson outlines in her chapter ‘Torture Australian-style’ that despite the UN Rapporteur on Torture at the time, Nils Melzer, noting that Assange had been exposed to prolonged psychological torture, calls for his release or intervention into his detainment on medical grounds has so far not elicited a response.

The book ends most fittingly with a conversation between former politician Scott Ludlam and Julian Assange during the Festival of Democracy held in Sydney in 2015 and provides some interesting commentary on the subject of “despair and defiance” – an apt subject with Assange currently still in the UK awaiting extradition hearings that the United States is still pursuing, to which Assange and his supports are still putting up a strong fight against.

Whilst celebrating the range of voices writing on Wikileaks, some of the chapters are very brief, and could have been extended upon given the complexity of some of the subject matter. Yes, some are more strongly aligned as opinion pieces – without endnotes or references to designated them as such, however others could have been lengthened to provide more detail to satisfy readers curiosity. One such example is Andrew Fowler’s chapter on ‘All the Way with the USA’ which highlights the close relationship enjoyed by the US and Australia and highlights the Australian governments unwillingness to seek assurances from their close partner about treatment within the criminal justice system if Assange is extradited.

A Secret Australia Revealed by the Wikileaks Exposés provides interesting reading at a time when governments are quickly closing down conversations about transparency and accountability and provides a chilling insight into the power of States to protect their own machinations.

You can read the original version here.

Fascists Among Us: a review

Fascists Among Us, Online Hate and the Christchurch Massacre

Jeff Sparrow

Scribe Publications

The Christchurch terrorist attacks on March 14, 2019, was streamed live for 17 minutes. As each terrifying second and each blood-soaked minute ticked by, 51 people were killed and another 50 were injured in this heinous act. The perpetrator, Brenton Tarrant was sentenced only a few months ago and became the first person in New Zealand, where the attacks occurred, to be given a life sentence.

In his book, Fascists Among Us: Online Hate and the Christchurch Massacre, Jeff Sparrow refuses to name the perpetrator and instead refers to him as Person X, partly as he notes “… because early readers reacted so strongly to the use of his name, suggesting … that it diminished his victims” and partly to denote that at any time another Person X might be out there, plotting and “… browsing a racist internet forum and counting ammunition.” The notion that “the Christchurch gunman emerged from a fascist subculture in which he’d previously been a minor and anonymous figure” forms the basis of the book, a timely warning during what appears to be the rise of fascism around the world.

The actions of Person X brought about an unprecedented effort from heads of State and online platform providers to adopt the Christchurch Call, a commitment to eliminate terrorist and violent extremist content online. However, this has only been a recent initiative and the ease with which sharing content and connecting with individuals and groups who seek to create havoc within democratic societies, something Sparrow calls “fascist terrorism,” has increased dramatically and often without any restriction by using the internet to facilitate hate.

Sparrow takes care in setting out the turgid history of fascism so as to situate it within a contemporary context, moving from World War II to the terror attacks of 9/11 and Trump’s populism movement which has, since the time of Trump’s presidency, veered alarmingly towards rhetoric long associated with far-right movements. The chapter on Trump’s America, “Hail Trump: Fascist Memes” is taken from fascist leader Richard Spencer’s alt-right gathering of the National Policy Institute where Spencer shouted “Hail Trump! Hail our people! Hail victory!” Sparrow writes on the normalisation of fascist views across the internet, not just within right-wing sites such as Stormfront but more increasingly in Youtube, Facebook and Reddit.

Sparrow’s coverage of fascism invariably leads to an Australian connection and joins the dots on Person X’s involvement with content posted by noted Australian fascist groups United Patriot Front and True Blue Crew on social media platforms. Sparrow notes the popularity of alt-right podcasters called the “Dingoes” whom Tarrant had borrowed his avatar from and who had guests such as MP George Christensen and former Labor leader Mark Latham. Noted right-wing extremist Blair Cottrell, who had once called for the image of Hitler to be installed in classrooms and who has spent stints in-and-out of prison also features in the chapter that is comprehensive in providing insight into the alt-right in Australia.

A common thread throughout the book is the memeification of hate, whether it be advocating violence, posting about “the mosque prank” or the creation of a first-person shooter game that allows for people to play as Person X, Sparrow’s quest to understand it so as to denounce, and ultimately fight against such forces makes for a gripping read. This ties in well with Sparrow’s conclusion simply titled “Conclusion; Hope Against Hate” where he notes:

“The more we offer an alternative to environmental destruction – and to the society that unleashes such destruction – the more squalid and miserable fascism seems.”

As the rise of far-right populism occurs throughout the world and the influence of far-right and fascist movements grows over online platforms, the urgency with which we need to be able to identify and mitigate harmful actions is apparently constantly increasing. Fascists Among Us: Online Hate and the Christchurch Massacre is valuable reading for those interested in the deep reach of the far-right and fascist movement – and how we might stop it.

Originally published here

Lawless: a review

BY SAMAYA BOROM

Lawless

Kimberley Motley

Allen & Unwin

Kimberley Motley’s book, Lawless, opened onto a tense courtroom scene, grabbing the reader’s attention from the first page to the last. Motley, as a criminal defence attorney, is trying to juggle many things. There is the drug charge of a young British man, who is accused of selling drugs in Ibiza and potentially facing nine years in jail, whom Motley is trying to exonerate, while simultaneously trying to reassure Laila, a victim of human trafficking in Afghanistan, to get in a car that will ultimately drive her to safety. It set the pace for the book, shifting from cities and continents with the thread of criminal justice allowing for Motley to showcase and build upon her legal skills in a way that has lasting impact.

Lawless is a unique book, offering insights into a world that is often hidden to those outside of the criminal justice system. Motley details her transition from being a working mother with three children in Milwaukee, USA, working within the public defender space (somehow juggling this as well as working as an academic at the local community college), to the Justice Sector Support Program (JSSP) in Afghanistan. JSSP was a program set up by the US government to support the government of Afghanistan in its development to managing its own criminal justice system – a task not without serious challenges. Motley is brought on board to assist in “capacity building” though quickly identifies that she’d like to be more actively involved in working with Afghans around their legal system rather than just ticking a box around training.

Having to learn to work within the Afghan legal system was a challenge, especially due to differences with the US legal system, such as different conceptions of the burden of proof and access to legal representation. Motley recalls an individual who was charged with terrorism offences in the National Security Court and had been beaten into confessing the crime, despite not having due process or understanding the charges put to them.

The ability of the local people to have legal representation was something Motley felt compelled to assist with, as she bluntly wrote:

“I’m not a traditional human rights lawyer, I’m a litigator.”

Stressing the fact that as a litigator in Afghanistan her primary audience is the Afghan court and judges, not human rights experts or speaking to a human rights panel or the international media.

In making this distinction Motley writes about taking on the case of a sixteen-year-old girl who had been raped and sentenced to twelve years imprisonment for “adultery by force.” Afghan law classed the case as a moral crime and Motley took it on as a defence attorney allowing her to argue before the Supreme Court to reduce her sentence then seek a presidential pardon.

The book is a fascinating read for a couple of standout reasons. Firstly, the way in which Motley writes is extremely personable, her empathy towards individuals caught up in the criminal justice system – wherever they may be – as well as her unrelenting fight for justice is admirable.

Motley speaks frankly and authentically about her life, including to struggle to pay the bills in her hometown of Milwaukee, and her transition from a public defender in the US to becoming the first foreign lawyer to practise in the Afghan court system.

Motley’s experience in both the US and Afghan system is peppered throughout the book and makes for an interesting comparison in understanding criminal justice responses to crime and concepts of criminality.

Secondly, in fighting to represent clients in places in which human rights are often not considered, Motley’s insights into Afghan society and the conception of justice can be challenging. She presided over a jirga (the village justice system) as a judge on a case about a six-year-old girl who was sold to clear a debt, while facing so many other challenges from a kidnapping case to literally trying to stay alive during an attack on her hotel. Motley through all this still had family issues to contend with, including the tragic shooting of her husband in Milwaukee.

The unflinching way in which Motley fights to ensure access to justice for her clients, wherever they might be is at the core of her story, one that in her words is all about “lifting and empowering people” and “fighting intelligently, strategically and, most importantly, effectively.”

Originally published here http://rightnow.org.au/review-3/lawless-a-review/

Queer Screen 2020: Right Now’s Top Picks

Welcome to Chechnya

Directed by David France

It is so dangerous to identify as LGBTQI+ in Chechnya that those willing to take part in David France’s documentary Welcome to Chechnya needed to have their identities digitally altered, through the use of artificial intelligence and visual technologies. The crew also resorted to the use of phones, hidden cameras and other media devices to ensure that they were not brought to the attention of Chechen authorities.

France’s film follows activists, such as David Isteev and Olga Baranova, who formed part of a network that assisted people caught up in the “gay purges” that occurred in the Chechen Republic, in the south-west of Russia between February and April 2017.

During this time there were reports of the authorities torturing, detaining, disappearing and killing members of the gay community, sometimes imploring family members to kill their children and siblings to eradicate homosexuality and send a message about perceived Chechen values and morals. A predominately Muslim society, homosexuality is viewed as an affront to those in power, particularly the police and security officials.

Advocacy groups, such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, called the Chechen officials out for their discrimination and use of torture against the LGBTQI+ community.

The documentary features interviews with Isteev, Baranova and others about their involvement in trying to save hundreds of people from being tortured or killed – despite the great danger this posed.

No one was immune from the purge; in some instances entire families needed assistance due to the threat of extermination by authorities, effectively turning them into asylum seekers. The film also mentioned the disappearance of a famous Chechen singer, Zelim Bakaev, who went missing after attending his sister’s wedding in the capital Grozny. The purge clearly crossed all levels of society.

Welcome to Chechnya is a must watch film. It is essential not only for shining a light on the horrors of the purge, the continual discrimination and mortal danger of the LGBTQI+ community in the Chechen Republic, but also for it’s use of AI which allows for their story to be authentically told – in the hope that it brings international awareness and advocacy for change in the country.

Surviving the Silence

Directed by Cindy L. Abel

Reviewed by Samaya Borom

Cindy L. Abel’s Surviving the Silence is a fascinating documentary about courage and what it takes to live one’s truth – at the risk of everything that an individual has worked so hard for.

We follow the story of Colonel Pat Thompson, a career Army nurse in the US military who was asked to preside over a controversial trial that discharged Colonel Margarethe Cammermeyer from service – due to the fact that she was a lesbian. Unbeknownst to the military at the time, Thompson was also a lesbian and was living with her long-time partner Barbara Brass.

At its heart, this film is a love story where we are given a glimpse of how strong Thompson and Brass’ relationship is. This was achieve through interviews and a re-telling of how they both ended up having to shelter that love in order to protect it, particularly during tumultuous times when being part of the LGBTQI+ community was dangerous for those wanting to serve their country in the military.

Interspersed with archival footage and considered animations, the film constructs a narrative around how service to one’s country and service to one’s self was often conflicting as well as where changes needed to be steadfastly fought for in order to allow people to be themselves in a military setting.

The film is all the more important at a time when LGBTQI+ provisions are being actively wound back in the US and should illuminate the ability for the military to follow the path of inclusion, rather than exclusion.

Originally published here.

Unsettled: Seeking refuge in America

Originally published here

Unsettled: Seeking refuge in America

Directed by Tom Shepard

Tom Shepard’s internationally award-winning documentary Unsettled: Seeking refuge in America opens with screaming and yelling and it quickly becomes apparent that a crowd are turning violent towards a young gay African male. The sentiment that ‘love is love’ does not ring true in the 70 odd countries where it is illegal to be lesbian, gay or transgendered. In fact, in four of these countries, if you are anything but heteronormative it is likely to be a death sentence.

The documentary follows the story of four LGBTQ asylum seekers fleeing persecution and mortal danger to San Francisco and attempting to start their own lives in the shadow of what they needed to leave behind – including family members who are violent and see nothing wrong with persecuting their children often under the guise of religion and culture.

Subhi Nahas left Syria when, in 2012, Al Qaeda affiliated groups targeted and killed young gay men, causing him to flee to Lebanon and then later Turkey where even former friends turned ISIS members threatened to kill him. Partners from Angola, Cheyenne Adriano and Mari N’Timansieme, had to leave after a family member tried to poison their food fleeing to the US first on student visas and having to apply for asylum from within the US which has its own complexity. Junior Mayema’s mother preaches against homosexuality in the Democratic Republic of Congo where violence is often used against gay members of society, and when harassed by the police UN decided to expedite his application for asylum.

Shot over four years it is clear that they are not alone in their journey to settle in the US, yet it is very difficult. Refugee and asylum advocates assist them in trying to not only find their place in their new home but to also navigate the inevitable bureaucratic process of seeking asylum – including the transition from Obama to the Trump administration. Since 2016 only an estimated 30% of asylum applications are successful so for Cheyenne and Mari it is a particularly harrowing time. As Junior experiences, even with an asylum visa it’s still not easy navigating life in a new country especially faced with the possibility of homelessness.

Unsettled: Seeking refuge in America is a tale of constant struggle and survival, but it is also a tale of hope that is offered in a new land that – for now – allows them to stay true to themselves.

For They Know Not What They Do: a review

Version 2 — film still, courtesy of QueerScreen

For they Know Not What They Do

Directed by Daniel G. Karslake

Following the United States Supreme Court’s ruling on marriage equality in 2015 there has been a concerted campaign to curtail LGBTQI+ rights, notably under the guise of religious freedom. Daniel Karslake’s film For They Know Not What They Do is an insight into the way in which religion, such as the values of the Evangelical Christian American, deeply impact the culture and politics of the US around LGBTQI+ identity and sexuality.

Taking the title from ‘The Gospel According to Luke 23:34’, which is often referred to as the ‘Words of Forgiveness’ the documentary focuses on the story of individuals who have come out to families who are deeply religious and who share their stories of trying to navigate not only familial expectations but community expectations as to their own identity. Some, such as Ryan Robertson seek solace in controversial conversion therapy that proclaim to ‘cure’ through scripture any non-heteronormative identities. Others, such as Sarah McBride who became the first transgendered women elected to public office in Delaware, become strong transgender advocates and raise awareness around LGBTQI+ rights in what can be argued to be a very politically conservative country.

The impact of religious attitudes towards LGBTQI+ rights are evident where there exists the ‘No Promo Homo Laws’ in some states such as Arizona and Texas which prevents teachers from discussing anything to do with identity and sexuality that is not heteronormative. Other states aggressively passed legislation under the guise of protecting religious freedom as a constitutional right which conversely limits LGBTQI+ rights in allowing for discrimination, examples included bills debated such as the ‘bathroom bills’ in North Carolina allowing for ID checks before entering into a bathroom designated as either ‘male’ or ‘female’.

Using fear and discrimination to propel community discussion around transgender identities saw political advertisements freely played on television stations across the nation and it’s apparent that the fearmongering creates a palpable level of concern amongst communities as to their own safety. Indeed, the danger surrounding the LGBTQI+ community in the US is also explored with Vico Baez Febo’s experience of a hate crime in Florida as well as Elliot Porcher inflicting self-harm on himself.

For They Know Not What They Do also interviews family members who themselves were grappling with their children’s sense of identity and explores how it might challenge their own deeply held belief system. Interspersed with interviews from other human rights advocates – including religious figures seeking to denounce religious extremism cloaked as piousness – the film examines the increase in hate speech and discrimination since the controversial 2015 ruling.

For They Know Not What They Do is compelling watching, not just for the individual stories who offer forgiveness and hope and understanding but in order to understand the massive issues that they face in contemporary US society – where religion is used actively to discriminate and to create fear and mistrust.

Originally published here.

Transitions Film Festival: Right Now’s Top Picks

The Whale & The Raven

Directed by Mirjam Leuze

Reviewed by Samaya Borom

Hermann Meuter and Janie Wray have interesting jobs. Based in a remote First Nations village in British Columbia Canada, it is their job as whale researchers, to study them in their pristine environment – an environment it appears that is increasingly under threat from a burgeoning Liquefied Natural Gas (LNG) industry and the massive tankers that now weave their way through the very path of the gentle giants.

Mirjam Leuze’s film The Whale & the Raven is set in Tsimshian Territory with the Gitga’at peoples who have lived in and around the coastline for over ten thousand years. Facing pipelines, tankers and possible environmental disasters due to an increasing interest in LNG, the film highlights the precarious position of First Nations people and researchers as they come together to try to protect against the loss of biodiversity and to safeguard the remote untouched environment.

The film centres around the study of possible impacts on the whale habitat from the LNG companies, yet it’s immediately clear it is not just the whales who will possibly be impacted. The decolonisation of the food system has impacted adversely on First Nations. Interspersed with First Nations knowledge and storytelling about their lands, it is also a tale of ensuring cultural heritage, environmental management and customs and way of life can be passed down to successive generations.

Beautifully shot, with an equally impressive soundtrack provided by different whale species, an abundance of other wildlife and the environment itself, The Whale & the Raven illustrates the threat facing both the First Nations and scientists trying to ensure survival of these magnificent creatures. It also tells the story of First Nations people struggling still against colonisation and its impacts.

Convoy

Directed by Matthew Newton

Reviewed by Samaya Borom

The Carmichael coal mine (Adani mine), based in Central Queensland near the important Galilee Basin is highly controversial. The Adani mine, run by billionaire Gautam Adani passed its final environmental approval hurdle in June 2019 despite multiple legal challenges from not only environmental groups such as the Australian Conservation Foundation but also traditional owners of the land, the Wangan and Jagalingou people whose sacred lands will be devastated and whose cultural heritage will be wiped forever.

Matthew Newton’s 2019 Convoy follows the Bob Brown Foundation when in April 2019 they lead a convoy of activists and concerned citizens from Tasmania to Queensland in protest. Featuring interviews and footage shot as part of the protest the film opens with a strong statement from Bob Brown: “I’ve been around politics long enough to know that in the run to an election the environment gets taken off every time and out come the bribes”. The priority for the protest, and for the foundation is to flip the narrative so that the environment and voters place within it is something that is thought of as they go into the ballot box”.

Brown has experience in running environmentally focused campaigns, the Franklin River Dam blockade in the 1978-81 protest being successful and resulting in the protection of pristine Tasmanian forest that we enjoy today. What might be surprising for some is that the documentary shows that support for the convoy ripples through all levels of society, from school teachers to farmers to children who are all concerned with the impact of the mine on not just Queensland but tying it into climate change issues which affect all. Indeed, a common theme was the sense of urgency in stopping the mine for the sake of the next generations and to prevent environmental catastrophe – something most Australian’s have experienced first-hand over summer. Convoy is also a story of hope and community, showing individuals that they are empowered and can be part of a force for change – given the current political environment this will be a space to watch.

Push

Directed by Fredrik Gertten

Reviewed by Samaya Borom

Fredrik Gertten’s film Push is timely, not just within Australian urban areas but seemingly throughout the world. The film tries to understand why it is becoming increasingly difficult to live within our cities, why lower socio-economic people can no longer be a part of an urban community due to extremely high rents and gentrification and what it means for cities if the middle class is also unable to meet the increasing monetary demand.

Leilani Farha, UN Special Rapporteur on Adequate Housing travels globally investigating housing issues in regard to the concept of the right to adequate housing. Her interviews and reconnaissance missions with vulnerable people who live with housing issues such as rodents and leaks, paints a bleak picture of intimidation and bullying tactics by powerful landlords or organisations who put profit over people. It’s not just a city issue either, the buying of rural land then forces urbanisation, a vicious cycle that pushes people further into poverty – something that a human rights framework tries to rectify. The film reveals some shocking statistics that provide some reason as to why this is becoming such a massive global issue. For example over the past 30 years, Toronto housing prices have increased 425% despite family income only increasing by 133% which is pushing tenants to the margins of affordability and indeed liveability. Multi-million-dollar properties owned by foreign corporations in inner-city London and surrounds is jaw dropping, their empty shells lending shelter to homeless people and squatters.

Push is insightful viewing into how international human rights conceptions of the right to housing is not being met by States and how this impact upon not only the most vulnerable people within society but how it ultimately has a ripple effect through community thereby affecting us all.

On Violence: a review

Originally published here

top-1145474 — Image by Devanath from Pixabay

on-violence-paperback-softback20190812-4-2wiv59 — Melbourne University Publishing

On Violence by Natasha Stott Despoja

The On Series by Melbourne University Publishing are touted as “little books on big ideas” and feature well known writers and identities covering topics such as Germaine Greer writing about rape, Leigh Sales on doubt and Stan Grant on identity. Natasha Stott Despoja’s contribution to the series, On Violence, focuses on violence against women as a national emergency, requiring community and political action to prevent it.

With extreme levels of violence, sometimes resulting in death, against women in Australian society, Despoja argues that there is a need, “…to change the story that ends in violence against women, we must begin with gender equality and respect for all women”.

Working through alarming statistics where on average women die weekly at the hands of someone they know, to noting that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women are subject to violence more than thirty-times the rate for non-Indigenous women Despoja is unapologetic in calling for changes in how society has, for the most part, turned a blind eye to these issues.

That’s not to say that there are not organisations or individuals currently working to create better frameworks with which to deal with, and hopefully stem, this national emergency. Despoja refers to Rosie Batty’s tireless campaigning for recognition of family violence and changing the ways in which it is dealt with as part of policy reform. The book talks about the issue of promoting gendered behaviours, the lack of diversity in being able to illustrate to children their worth as members of humanity, rather than an identity structured around gender and the importance in actively changing the narrative around violence through primary prevention strategies.

Written more as a conversation between the author and the reader than a formal essay On Violence is easily accessible which is important when considering the topic of discussion and the barriers that are often placed around them that need to be broken down. In the chapter “Respect”, for example, Despoja points towards the need to ensure education around respectful relationships occur at an early age so that younger generations have a sense of what is and isn’t acceptable in a relationship.

Education around respectful relationships is one such way to challenge the status quo on approaching and quashing violence, but it requires the full support of government to ensure wide and even reach. Despoja conversely notes that such discussions precipitated Prime Minister Scott Morrison as being very vocal about enrolling his own children in a school that didn’t impose “the values of others” on his children.

On Violence makes it clear that there is much work to do in this space, from victim blaming to reluctance to educate Australia’s youth about meaningful and respectful relationships to acknowledgment of violence against women as being at epidemic proportions and having consistent constructive frameworks in place to deal with it. It also makes it clear that we, as individual members of society, can be proactive in creating an Australia where all women are respected and not subject to violence, where our grandmothers and mothers, our sisters, our cousins, our friends and ourselves are as safe in our private lives as we should expect to be in our public lives. It’s a small book with an incredibly important message, one that everyone should hear.

Stories from the Defenders: a review of Seeking Justice in Cambodia

Image by Sharon Ang from Pixabay

seeking-justice-in-cambodia-paperback-softback20190708-4-1yeaeqe

Seeking Justice in Cambodia: Human Rights Defenders Speak Out

Sue Coffey

Melbourne University Publishing

Cambodia is a country that has experienced immense suffering due to the Khmer Rouge genocide under the leadership of Pol Pot in the late 1970s, Vietnamese invasion and ongoing socio-political and economic suppression. Modern Cambodia continues to struggle with the effects of autocratic rule and justice and human rights are continually challenged.

It is with this backdrop that Sue Coffey’s book Seeking Justice in Cambodia, Human Rights Defenders Speak Out sought out individuals within civil society organisations who actively fight for human rights and democracy in Cambodia. Coffey was a communications advisor attached to the NGO Forum on Cambodia during 2012-2013 and witnessed first-hand the impact that governmental corruption and lack of transparency in decision making can do to vulnerable communities.

Despite having human rights organisations in Cambodia since the early 1990s, the volatile political environment and lack of awareness amongst domestic and international scholars of human rights has meant that oppositional voices to the ruling government and its policies are hidden, or at the very least suppressed for fear of retribution.

Coffey has been able to document the stories of just some of these courageous individuals, firstly in order to preserve the authenticity of their experiences and secondly, to ensure wider dissemination of these stories as they make up the fabric of Cambodia’s human rights and democracy struggle. Featuring the stories of fifteen individuals, taken at various times, from founders of human rights leagues to president of a national party that recently ended up being arrested for treason to a land activist imprisoned for speaking out about corruption in land development between private developers and the ruling government, the book provides readers with a glimpse into the difficulties, and achievements of human rights defenders in a tightly controlled environment.

Some of the interviewees are in exile, such as Thun Saray the founder and President of the Cambodian Human Rights and Development Association who speaks frankly about the dangers of setting up such an organisation that promoted human rights and democracy. Other interviewees point to deep issues between religion, government and society with Coffey including the Venerable Loun Sovath, a Buddhist monk who has been banned by the Cambodian Buddhist hierarchy from seeking refuge in temples due to his vocal commitment to human rights and his questioning of forced evictions of people from areas of commercial interest as a person whose story needs to be shared.

Seeking Justice in Cambodia, Human Rights Defenders Speak Out is a collection of personal stories that provide real insight into the complexities of the human rights landscape in Cambodia, and stories which deserve to be disseminated and read widely. Coffey’s desire to memorialise the efforts of these individuals can only provide inspiration for others in following their path to being human rights defenders.

Originally published at Right Now.

Radical Heart, the inside story of the Uluru Statement of the Heart

Image by faszynelka from Pixabay

Radical Heart

Shireen Morris

Melbourne University Publishing

Dr Shireen Morris is a constitutional lawyer and postdoctoral fellow at the University of Melbourne where she focuses on indigenous constitutional recognition. Hailing from Fijian-Indian immigrant parents who made their home in Melbourne, Morris worked for seven years on the Uluru Statement from the Heart, a statement that is controversial in terms of recognition of First Peoples with the Australian Constitution. Her book, Radical Heart is an exploration of her involvement in the campaign for constitutional recognition.

The Uluru Statement from the Heart came from a constitutional convention supported by the Referendum Council, a bipartisan council jointly appointed by then prime minister Malcolm Turnbull and opposition leader Bill Shorten. Though there was a focus on the calls to alter the Constitution in recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people the statement also called for reform around legislative change with the creation of a Makarrata Commission which would supervise agreements between the government and indigenous groups as well as the promotion of truth-telling in regard to indigenous culture, law, customs and, of course, the effects of colonialism.

Makarrata is a Yolngu word meaning “coming together after a struggle”, the name is suitable considering the injustices of the past.

Early on in Radical Heart, Morris announces that the lack of First People’s inclusion and participation in politics and the lack of Constitutional recognition is due in equal parts to politics as well as a “lack of morally courageous leadership”. Morris argues for the need for consistent and strong advocacy for indigenous recognition in the Australian Constitution, which would also require the formation of a constitutionally guaranteed indigenous advisory body, the Makarrata Commission. Makarrata is a Yolngu word meaning “coming together after a struggle”, the name is suitable considering the injustices of the past. Moving through the book it is not hard to see why Morris positions this statement front and centre given the complexities of the topic, and the voices involved – seemingly at times competing with each other.

Radical Heart is an important contribution to understanding the limits of constitutional reform in Australia as well as providing clear insights into exactly why this is required.

Morris’ strength lies in her ability to take readers on an intimate journey into the campaign around the Uluru Statement from the Heart, from personal stories about working with Noel Pearson, member of the Expert Panel on Constitutional Recognition of Indigenous Australians in 2011, who would admonish her work in front of policymakers in a bid to make her consider it more fully; to the delicate and often political tête-à-tête with constitutional defenders, left- and right-leaning politicians and key indigenous experts such as Marcia Langton.

Deeply telling, the lead up to the final chapter in which the Uluru Statement from the Heart is formally rejected sets out the ways in which government opposition and public uncertainty impacted upon recognition of not only the importance of the Statement but also its aims and future impacts on Australian legal, socio-cultural, political and educational frameworks. Radical Heart is an important contribution to understanding the limits of constitutional reform in Australia as well as providing clear insights into exactly why this is required.

Morris succinctly points out six key lies that need to be corrected when analysing governmental rejection of the Statement as being “neither desirable nor capable of winning acceptance at referendum” – collectively they showcase the fundamental misunderstanding of the role that indigenous Australians have within contemporary Australian society. They are at the heart of Australia and without giving the First Peoples a voice firmly enshrined in the Constitution, all Australians cannot move forward as a nation.