MY: The UN Committee on Human Rights has recently criticised the UK’s human rights record, specifically highlighting the libel laws, the Terrorism Act 2006, and the treatment of the Chagos Islands. There’s a widespread perception that the war on terror has weakened human rights provisions. Would you agree with that?

GGG: Oh, certainly. I think Blair’s dictum that the ‘rules of the game have changed’ was a signal to those undemocratic elements – the anti-human rights elements – in the bureaucracy in this country to do what they were very keen to do anyway, which was to enhance measures of control over citizens and non-citizens alike. And I think that has led to the tragedy of indefinite detention, which is still being worked out in the context of control orders. But that rush to exercise control has done serious damage, in this country and elsewhere, to human rights and fundamental freedoms.

At the same time, I think we can see a swing back in the pendulum. In many respects, the courts in the UK, while respecting the sovereignty of Parliament, have been very keen to remind the executive that they are not Parliament, that they may only exercise such powers as have been legally entrusted to them, and that those powers have to be exercised according to the rule of law. And they have reminded the executive that a ‘war on terror’ does not give them carte blanche to detain anyone indefinitely. Likewise with the allegations of torture and ill-treatment. The courts in this country have been good to the extent that they have refused to accept at face value what executives like to claim everywhere, which is: ‘if we say it’s so, then you can’t inquire into it.’ In that respect, our record is much stronger than that of courts in the United States, which have been too ready to adopt the government’s claim of state secrecy, as the reason for barring litigation on issues which should certainly see the light of day in court.

MY: The European Court of Human Rights has recently found against the UK in a number of cases, specifically on control orders, after which the court was criticised by Lord Carlile. We’ve recently seen the right-wing think tank Policy Exchange calling for the complete withdrawal of the UK from the ECHR jurisdiction. Is that kind of backlash likely in the UK?

GGG: I’m not so sure that it will actually have the effect that the extremists want. The idea of withdrawing from the jurisdiction of the ECHR appeals to the petty-minded nationalist, I suppose, but it does not reflect any deep understanding or knowledge of the background of the European Convention, or any deep understanding or knowledge of the judgements of the country.

That’s not to say there aren’t issues – there always will be issues – but the fact is the UK played a major role in drafting the European Convention on Human Rights. The reason it was slow to allow the right of individual petition reflected a rather arrogant understanding (although I can understand how they got to it) that all was well in the UK, and that UK law made adequate provision for the protection of those human rights now set out in a formal international instrument. But at the same time, the UK was very keen to export the European Convention model, which was often used as a basis for Bills of Rights tacked onto independence constitutions of countries of the Commonwealth which had achieved their autonomy. It was sometimes thereafter rejected by those countries – but the UK’s view, based on its experience and legal traditions, was that this was a very good instrument on which to base human rights protection.

But as I said,  there are issues. I was personally very surprised when the decision of the European Court of Human Rights on voting by prisoners attracted the ire of the tabloids to the extent that it did. I’ve worked on elections in the past, and I thought this was really a non-issue – one might have different views on it, but I was surprised by the vitriolic response among some quarters. I didn’t think, and I’m not entirely convinced, that this is a matter that the public is really concerned about one way or the other. It’s a matter which the government of the day, and their tabloid supporters, could use to generate anti-human rights sentiment, but I’m not sure that it’s the serious issue it’s made out to be.

Also, many of the Court’s judgments in a migration context have attracted controversy, even if, on the facts, they were rather unexceptional.   We hear our Secretary of State for Justice claiming that the court should not see itself as a court of appeal in asylum and immigration cases: again, if we look actually at the decisions themselves, we will see judgments that people might differ on, but which involve issues which are always going to have to be decided one way or the other. If we were to withdraw from the European Convention – a ridiculous notion – our decision makers, the Home Office, would still have to make these assessments, would have to ask itself whether in the case of someone who had been convicted of a criminal offence, they now should be deported. They would have to take into account, because families and MPs would demand it, the question of private life, best interests of the child, and the like. These decisions aren’t simply going to vanish simply because you step out of the European Convention. The advantage of the Convention for ministers and policy-makers, if they would only get their heads out of the sand, is that it does actually provide a structured approach to appreciating the human rights dimension of a number of different types of governmental decisions. It’s an approach which is by no means alien to the UK at all – it’s something which we have been doing for years.

MY: In your legal opinion on the recent Palestinian statehood bid at the UN, you wrote that ‘the interests of the Palestinian people are at risk of prejudice and fragmentation.’ Could you explain your reasoning?

GGG: This is one of those issues that has bothered international lawyers for some time: the question of who represents the state. Traditionally, international law has not been concerned with what happens, as it were, behind the veil of statehood. Basically, if you had power, no matter how you exercised it – tyrannically or democratically – and were in control of a piece of territory, you could present yourself as the representative of a state. Of course, with the principle of self-determination in the picture, with the recognition in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights that the authority of government derives from the will of the people, other elements are beginning to creep in. And I think we are rightly beginning to ask, not just in the Palestinian case but generally also, who is it who actually represents the state? Do they have behind them an exercise of the will of the people?

And in the case of Palestine, it is the people who have long been recognised as the principal actor in the process of finding a solution. Up to now, the PLO that has been accepted by the UN and the international community as the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people. Now we see, incidental to the separate issue of the move to statehood,something else entering the picture, another entity that claims, or seems at times to be claiming, to take the place of the PLO as the legitimate representative of the people of Palestine. And that’s what worries me: there is suddenly a gap between the PLO – for all its representational deficiencies – and the putative ‘state’, which in large measure has little or no representational legitimacy whatsoever. For now the only general elections that have been held in Palestine in recent years are those that saw Hamas elected in Gaza – free and fair elections, certified internationally – with a substantial majority accruing to Hamas, which Tony Blair would surely have envied.

In the case of the Palestinian Authority, among others,  there’s an electoral gap there which needs to be filled. And I think that this is one of the challenges for Palestine, to allow the voice of the Palestinian people to be expressed, and I don’t just mean those in the OPT, but also those in the diaspora — the nine or ten million Palestinians in all, many of whom are very anxious to vote, as they should be. After all, it is their right of self-determination, right of return, right of compensation, which is likely to be at issue in the final move towards statehood. So my concern was with the issue of representation, not the bid for statehood, which itself reflects frustration on the part both of Palestinians  and the majority of UN member states, at the intransigence of an Israeli government which pushes ahead with its desire to take under its control of more and more of the land that belongs to the people of Palestine.

MY: The Palestinian issue is famous for the mass of legal rulings on the one hand, and power politics on the other. There is a growing movement amongst Palestinians to disregard the 1967 borders and begin a civil rights campaign within the entire region for a unitary, democratic state. With that in mind, what do you think are the obstacles to the implementation of UN resolutions on the conflict, and do you think international law can have an effect even when it is being obstructed by very powerful states? Or do you think it makes sense, in such situations, to domesticise the conflict, as it were?

GGG: On the international law side, I would like to be optimistic. I’d like to say, look at the advisory opinion on Namibia, which I think was a seminal moment in the jurisprudence of the International Court of Justice, because it did actually contribute to changes in the positions of various states on the issue of South Africa’s control over South-West Africa. It contributed to the sanctions regime, and to the isolation of South Africa, and against the power politics of the day – British governments were very hostile to this idea, but they came round.

One would like to think the same could happen with respect to the advisory opinion of the ICJ on the Wall, but so far it hasn’t. Is it too soon? I would have expected and hoped to have seen some progress amongst states to ensure that their policies towards Israel were in line with that judgement, and I don’t see that. And that is unfortunate.

As an optimistic international lawyer, I would like to think that there is still time for change, but I can understand that people at the grassroots, on the ground, do not see that happening, but wonder yet again what’s going on and whether their tactics at the international level do not need to change. I would have sympathy for that approach, for the expected impact of the ICJ advisory opinion has not been realised. Perhaps we should have another ICJ opinion? One could ask the Court specifically, as was done in the Namibia case, about the legal consequences of that ruling for states in their relations with Israel, the occupying power.

MY: What do you think is the likelihood of going back to the ICJ?

GGG: It’s always an option – I don’t think there’d be difficulty in getting a request from the General Assembly. The majority is there, and  those in opposition to it are relatively few in number. The art is in the framing of the question, of course, but one could certainly put it in such a way as to appeal to a very large number of states as a practical and useful way of pushing the move for Palestinian statehood ahead.

Could you comment on the recent UNESCO bid, and the subsequent US withdrawal of funding of funding from UNESCO?

GGG: One does despair of the US, at times. They have such a funny approach to these issues. To withdraw funding from an organisation because of what, from one perspective, was a relatively innocuous bid on the part of a people whose claim to international representation had long been accepted by the UN and the international community, to sanction a whole organisation because of that, is rather pathetic.  We understand that it’s a consequence of US law, rather than anything else, so it may be impossible for the executive to do anything but follow through and withdraw its support. What can one do in a situation like that? I think we regret that it’s the American style, the big stick approach. We know, from experience and from the outside, that this tends not to work or to achieve much, but we’re going to have to learn to live with it for the time being.

MY: Could we talk about the targeted killings approach of the US in recent years, particularly drone targeted killings happening in Afghanistan/Pakistan region, but also in places like Yemen? From a grassroots perspective, there has been lots of concern about this from human rights organisations. What kinds of options do you think are open to them in terms of international law?

GGG: There’s a formal answer, which is less than satisfying, and then there are the difficult questions. Unmanned drones are a weapons system which is certainly not forbidden by international law. To some extent, they’ve been used in crude form for decades, and in a situation of conflict, one can well imagine drones flying back and forth, doing exactly the sort of things that manned aircraft would do in any such situation.

But that, of course, is not the problem. We’re concerned with drones being used as weapons systems on the periphery of recognised armed conflicts – for example, the case of the drone that recently came down in Iran. Was that being used for spying, for targeting purposes in relation to those who might be ferrying arms from Iran into Afghanistan? We don’t know, and that’s where it all gets rather worrying.

We are not sure exactly of the contexts in which they’re being used. We do know that they’re also being used as killing machines in relation to those suspected of being involved in al-Qaida and other subversive organisations. If that were done in the context of an international  armed conflict, one could hardly take exception to it, at least if the normal rules governing the conduct of hostilities were followed, so that military targets were identified and engaged, proportionality was involved, steps were taken to reduce the likelihood of civilian causalities, and so forth. If the target was clearly an enemy combatant, it would be difficult to criticise. But the so-called war on al-Qaida is not a war in the normal sense of the word; it’s not a war to which the rules of armed conflict apply, and there is reason for concern about the use  being made of drones in countries such as Yemen. In so-called counter-terror operations, drones are often used as a substitute for criminal prosecution.

There is considerable support for the view, and I would endorse this approach, that one of the best weapons in the fight against terrorism is international criminal law, rather than targeted killing or the use of armed force. Claiming the existence of an armed conflict or relying on the laws of war, by contrast, can give rise to innumerable problems. For example, who is piloting these drones – civilians, the CIA? Are they out of uniform, sitting in remote parts of the United States, flying drones via satellite over particular areas and using the weapons systems to knock off this or that person? That raises questions – let’s assume it’s the US doing it – that the US may not want to face up to, which is to accept that under the laws of war, those who fly from the apparent security of CIA headquarters become combatants, that is, legitimate targets; because they are no longer civilians, they themselves can be targeted in return. And this seems to me to be an open invitation, to those with whom you are in conflict, actually to come and engage with you on your own territory. There are issues here which haven’t been thoroughly thought through on the American side.

Plus, of course, and this is currently a matter of some debate for President Obama, there is the question of killing Americans. Recently a couple of US citizens have been deliberately targeted and killed by US drones. You can be sure that one day soon the courts are going to have to wrestle with this, because the constitution does aim to protect US citizens, whatever their views and actions. It will be interesting to see whether the courts will be able effectively to defend the constitution.  I’m not that optimistic, mind you, particularly given present and recent tendencies, but these are questions which will have their day in court.

MY: Many thanks for speaking to Ceasefire.

For part one of this interview click here.

The ICAHD activists in front of the completed Abu Omar family home in July 2011 (Photo: Livia Bergmeijer)

Last summer, I took part in a rebuilding camp with the Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions(ICAHD). On the 24th July 2011, a group of Palestinians, Israelis and International peace activists finished rebuilding a demolished Palestinian home. Today, exactly six months later, Israeli occupation forces have, once again, demolished it.

The home belonged to the Abu Omars, a large family of fifteen who, after having had their house demolished in 2005, and after living for six years in their neighbour’s house, were finally able to move back into their new house last summer. Today, they are once again homeless, displaced, distraught, and helpless.

While on the camp, we were hosted by the Shawamrehs, at their house “Beit Arabiya” (“Arabiya’s house”). Their house too was demolished late last night. The fifth time that Salim and Arabiya’s house has been reduced to rubble. They had dedicated the house as a peace centre in the memories of Rachel Corrie and Nuha Sweidan (two women killed while resisting home demolitions in Gaza) and is used to host the participants of the camp every summer. ICAHD reports that, “Arabiya was there and when she witnessed the demolition she fell to the ground. All their trees and vines were uprooted. There is nothing left.”

The Abu Omar and Shawamreh families’ land is situated in the Occupied West Bank town of Anata, in what is known as “Area C”, meaning it is under complete Israeli military control. Palestinians are almost never granted building permits by the Israeli authorities, and therefore are forced to build or expand their homes “illegally”. This is the most common reason given by the Israeli authorities for house demolitions. However, as an occupying force, Israel doesn’t have the legal right to grant nor deny permits as it is not entitled under International Law to conduct civil planning.

Nevertheless, the rate and the method of house demolitions show that this is more a policy of gradual ethnic cleansing than anything else, with clear political and strategic purposes. According to ICAHD, “House demolitions and forced evictions are among Israel’s most heinous practices in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (OPT).” Since the occupation of the West Bank in 1967, approximately 26,000 homes have been demolished, and in 2011 alone, 622 Palestinian structures were razed to the ground by Israeli bulldozers.

No alternative housing or compensation is ever given to Palestinian families whose houses are demolished. Under the Fourth Geneva Convention, Occupying Powers are prohibited from destroying Palestinian property or employing collective punishment. Article 53 reads: “Any destruction by the Occupying Power of real or personal property belonging individually or collectively to private persons…is prohibited.” Under this provision the practice of demolishing Palestinian houses is banned, as is the wholesale destruction of Palestinian infrastructure.

These particular demolitions have touched me personally because I knew the family, and I know what wonderful, courageous and steadfast people they are. But we must not forget that house demolitions happen all over Palestine (not just the West Bank and East Jerusalem) every single day, and have been happening since 1947. It is a very clear policy designed to slowly but surely forcibly evict Palestinians, the indigenous population of the land, out of their homes and out of their homeland.

We must do everything in our power to stand up against this brutal process of ethnic cleansing. The rebuilding of Palestinian homes is not a humanitarian act; it is a non-violent political strategy aimed at resisting the occupation whilst showing solidarity with Palestinians.

ICAHD has vowed to continue rebuilding homes in the Occupied Palestinian Territories, and in doing so will not submit to the Israeli occupying forces’ attempts to deter its resistance of the illegal occupation.

For Teodora Todorova’s report on house demolitions in Israel click here.

Though still closely associated with New Labour, the Fabians today are a broad-ish church: sharp suits and young volunteers with a clear West Wing jones still outnumbered trade unionists and CND vets at the Institute of Education, but not by much. The lineup of speakers was somewhat less diverse, sticking largely to familiar faces from the centre-left; Caroline Lucas and Lord Oakeshott were the only parliamentarians in attendance not to represent the Labour Party, and similarly the media commentators were primarily drawn from the ranks of Guardian stalwarts, with Polly Toynbee, Sunny Hundal and Neal Lawson all present.

Shadow Chancellor Ed Balls had make his task of opening proceedings considerably harder by announcing the previous evening that Labour would not commit to reversing any of the cuts made by the coalition government. Given that the heading of the conference was ‘The Economic Alternative,’ what was put on offer by Balls was desperately thin. Amidst a lot of rhetoric about ‘credibility’ and crowd-pleasing invocation of Keynes, it was painfully clear that his strategy was simply to wait until the public ran out of patience with Osborne and co, while he and his party continued to criticise the pace (but not the necessity) of cuts from the safety of the opposition benches. That the Fabian audience met this with mere frosty applause is perhaps indicative; the response from unions in the last few days has been far more robust.

This is, of course, to be expected. Trying to appease one’s base at the same time as accumulating enough wider public support to win an electoral majority is hardly a new problem for a party in opposition. The key point here however is that this is, as Balls and numerous others over the course of the day observed, an atypical historical moment. Time and again, the elections of 1979 and 1945 were invoked as sea changes in the national and international political landscape, points where the agenda could be set for decades to come.

After the considerable national and international upheavals of the last year, it’s a reasonable hunch that the subsequent election could prove similarly important in determining the future of progressive politics in this country. Amongst all the stirring words about seizing the day and the left keeping its collective political nerve, there were some frustrating and troubling implications for what this meant for Labour’s engagement with both its own left wing and the wider public.

A panel discussion comprised of MPs Chuka Umunna and Caroline Lucas, Compass chair Neal Lawson, focus group guru Deborah Mattinson, and former Economic Secretary to the Treasury Kitty Ussher best exemplified this. After Lawson had won some easy applause by appealing for a return to the language of solidarity and socialism in rebuilding Labour’s electoral appeal, Mattinson and Umunna argued that such language had no appeal to the voter on the street, and that to readopt it was to abandon the field of ‘mainstream’ political discourse entirely to the Tories.

Even if this is true, which Lawson and others disputed, one had to wonder: well, whose fault is that? Whose responsibility is it to make the case for community solidarity and, whisper it, socialism, if not yours? If the stakes are as high as everyone keeps on saying they are, shouldn’t the putative alternative be couched a bit more forcefully?

Umunna is right to say that progressive politicians should be speaking outward rather than preaching to the choir, but there’s little point in doing this if it means operating within the parameters of an agenda set by the partisans of neoliberalism. Hand-wringing articles about the left’s general inability to gain ground in the wake of the 2008 crisis have been ten a penny across the blogosphere for some time now, but a solution that means only fighting on the right’s terms doesn’t feel like much of an alternative at all. Needless to say, Lawson and Lucas got the loudest cheers inside the hall, but it remains to be seen how far their arguments will win favour elsewhere amongst the political classes, let alone whether they will have the chance to reach the wider electorate.

Other talks on the day were more heartening. A panel organised by the Fabian Women’s Network explored the gender implications of the cuts. While it’s a commonplace that bears repeating that reductions in funding to public services affects women disproportionately, a number of other salient and perceptive points were made: the ongoing gender imbalance in the upper echelons of banks and blue-chip companies since 2008 was discussed, as was the growing perception, particularly strongly felt in the audience, that the cultural profile of feminism was in a state of regression. There was an echo here of the left’s perceived failure to take advantage on the crisis in capitalism – why had things seemingly got worse since the seventies? Despite this frustration, it was an encouraging sign that so many women from across so many demographics were keen to discuss possible solutions from the floor.

A second panel, ‘What should today’s young people want from a fairer capitalism?’ did engage, albeit awkwardly, with whether there was necessarily a consensus that young people wanted capitalism per se. This contained a particularly interesting, if unfortunately time-constrained, contribution from University of Sussex economist Mariana Mazzucato, in which she argued that the state’s role in enabling and funding research into cutting-edge technologies had been consistently and deliberately underplayed by the companies that profited thereby; these were some important points, and it was unfortunate that the format dictated they could not be built upon in greater detail by the audience and panel contributors.

And, rounded off with a meandering call from Ken Livingston to man the barricades against Boris Johnson (or Thatcher – his speech had an endearingly atemporal quality), that was it. I suppose it would be ambitious to expect anything too daring from any of the Labour affiliates here; all those present seemed quite happy to wait for public sympathy with the Tories to erode until the time came to impose slightly different austerity measures of their own. And while Balls and Miliband might be now be spoiling for a chance to show the general public that the unions don’t call their tune, they were hardly going to play that card here. You can’t help but wonder, however, if the grass roots of the party will share the view of many in attendance that such a strategy really does represent an opportunity missed.

Dadaab, in the North-Eastern Province in Kenya, is a semi-arid town that hosts what Aljazeera calls “the world’s biggest refugee camp” near the Kenyan-Somali border.  Over 370,000 people live there. In October, two Médecins sans Frontières workers at the camp were kidnapped (by “suspected Somali militants”). A couple of weeks ago, a member of the Lutheran World Federation peace committee was shot dead there. These incidents have generated a few lines at the margins of the press, but in general few non-specialists in the West have heard of Dadaab or the Ifo camp it contains.

Refugee issues continue to form the core of twenty-first century political life, from the Palestinian diaspora and the recent displacement in Libya to the lives of the many thousands in Dadaab. Given that the main UN Convention on the status of refugees was signed in 1951, how well is the world currently dealing with these issues? How has the ‘war on terror’ impacted on the ability of people to escape war or persecution? Is our current definition of a refugee outdated?

Few people are better placed to answer questions like these than Professor Guy S. Goodwin-Gill, who is known to students of international law as the co-author of the seminal and authoritative book The Refugee in International Law. For twelve years (1976-1988) he served as Legal Adviser in the Office of United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). Currently, he is a Senior Research Fellow at All Souls College, Oxford, as well as a Professor of International Refugee Law. He also practices as a barrister from Blackstone Chambers, London, and has been involved in high-profile international legal cases including the Israel ‘Wall’ case at the International Court of Justice.

We spoke in his rooms at All Souls College on a range of topics, from Palestine at UNESCO to the use of drones. Here, in the first of two parts, Goodwin-Gill discusses his own path to a career in international law, the circumstances of the drafting of the 1951 UN Convention on refugees, the inevitability of migration, and the impact of regional agreements.

MY: How did you become involved in a career in international law?

GGG: I often get asked that question, and the only answer I have is a chapter of accidents. I did law because I’d had enough of languages, and because in the sixties doing law didn’t necessarily confine you to a legal career at all – here in Oxford it was an arts degree. So I did law for want of something else to do, but my college, Wadham, steered steered all us law students into eating dinners’, which meant going to one of the inns of courts and becoming eligible to take the Bar exams. When I’d done my finals, I discovered the only thing I was really interested in was international law. I had a year off before going back to Oxford to do post-graduate work, so I sat the Bar exams, and then two years later took up a teaching post at the College of Law in London. Being a barrister was a condition of employment, so a great aunt put up the money and I was duly called to the Bar.In 1976, for various institutional and academic reasons, I was looking to move out of the College of Law. A job came up at the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, and I was with the UNHCR for twelve years. I left initially on a year’s leave of absence to set up the International Journal of Refugee Law and just never went back. Eventually in 2000, I did what I hadn’t done in the seventies, which was ‘pupillage’, to qualify myself fully as a barrister, and since then, I’ve been a non-resident member of Blackstone Chambers. So there was nothing planned – it just happened…

MY: You’ve established yourself as an expert on refugee law, and recently advised on a case regarding the application of the 1951 UN Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees. Is that convention sufficient to regulate modern-day refugee flows?

GGG: Blair often said it wasn’t. He said it was a treaty drafted at the time of the Cold War for other purposes. It was certainly drafted in 1951, but it drew on thirty or so years of experience of international involvement in refugee issues. It was drafted when security was a concern – maybe different aspects of security – but the drafters were careful to make sure the definition of a refugee a) was not too broad, and b) had security exceptions in it. So war criminals were excluded, those who were serious non-political criminals were excluded, those who had committed acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the UN were excluded. It certainly remains up to date in that regard: it does make provision to protect state interests.

What it doesn’t do, and was never intended to do, is regulate large-scale migration or mixed flows of migrants and asylum seekers. Insofar as it only covers a small part of the picture it still remains perfectly valid. We can all understand a refugee as someone who, as defined in the convention, has a well-founded fear of persecution, on certain grounds like race, religion, social group, or political opinion. But we’ve also come to accept that there may be others out there who can’t squeeze themselves into that relatively narrow definition, but who should be protected because they’re fleeing conflict, or serious discrimination, or perhaps even now – as we’re beginning to appreciate – they’re fleeing the consequences of natural or man-made disasters.

That’s not to say they should all be treated equally or have the same rights accorded to them as if they’d been granted asylum, but they are nonetheless people in need of protection. So our sense of protection has strengthened, particularly in view of our better understanding today of what it means to have human rights, and to protect human rights. And human rights protection has helped to complement the 1951 convention, which is something that governments have tried to resist at some times, but have now come round to accept – namely, that irrespective of the well-foundedness of fear of persecution, someone who faces inhuman treatment of torture, regardless of intent or motive, or who is stateless, or a child in flight, or the victim of trafficking, should also be protected.

MY: In the next couple of decades, what do you think will be the main challenges facing refugee law?

GGG: Some of the main challenges are those that states have created for themselves. We’ve had the 1951 convention for sixty years now, and one would have expected states to have got much better at managing refugee movements, to have come to recognise that this is not a temporary phenomenon, that refugees and forced migrants are not simply going to fade away with time. They will be there. But governments have not learnt that lesson, as likewise for many years they haven’t been prepared to deal with migration, except from a sovereigntist confrontational perspective. ‘We decide who comes in, and if that person is not a citizen, then you – the other state – must take them back.’ Well, that sort of approach doesn’t really work. Many developing countries, for example, benefit greatly from remittances sent back from their citizens abroad, citizens who may be in other countries regularly or irregularly.

So there’s no necessary interest in such states coming to the table and playing the migration game according to the sovereigntist perspective. They need help – and remittances, we know worldwide, contribute far more to national economies than foreign aid and development. States, though, have not been prepared generally to approach migration in a cooperative way, to recognise that sending states do have interests, as well as receiving states, and to try to forge some common understanding and arrangements for dealing with migration in partnership with states of origin. And one of the hardest things will be for states to do a 180 on this, to come to recognise that actually there is another dimension to the movement of people, which is only going to be better managed through better, more effective, and more equitable partnerships with sending countries.

The EU is certainly trying to do deals, and individual member states have tried to do deals, with sending and transit states in North Africa – but these have scarcely been equitable. And it’s only when we see some equity introduced into the balance that we’re going to get to a system of better management. We’ll never have perfect management, because human migration is not a problem that can be solved, it’s not a tap that can be turned off and on at will. It’s a phenomenon with which we have to learn to live.

One of the most interesting statistics – they only really started counting seriously in the sixties –shows that there’s a fairly steady percentage of world population who live in countries other than those in which they were born. It’s between 2.3 and 2.9 percent – quite a big gap, admittedly – but it’s a steady percentage of a total population that is nonetheless growing. So we’re always going to have a certain number of individuals amongst us who are effectively migrants. They may be regular, they may be irregular, but that’s the reality.

MY: What do you think the effect of increasing regionalisation will be on refugee law?

GGG: I think there are pluses there. For example, if you have regional agreement on freedom of movement of workers, for example, you can, without thinking about it, also provide solutions to those who might be facing political or racial problems in their country of origin. For example, in West Africa, there is some evidence that suggests that without actually going down the formal refugee protection path, the provisions on movement of labour are actually providing a safety valve for those with local difficulties in their country of origin. Europe is a bit of special case, but we have a situation of a regional group, 43 of which are bound by the European Convention of Human Rights, 27 of which are members of the European Union. And that too can contribute to meeting migration and potential refugee-type pressures.

For the second part of this interview – on terrorism, Palestinian statehood, and targeted assassinations – click here.

MY: We recently saw a major women’s march in Cairo protesting against the brutal treatment of female protesters. What is your assessment of the Arab Spring in terms of its impact on women’s rights, specifically in the context of Egypt, Tunisia, Bahrain and Iraq?

YM: : I would first like to point out that women have proven themselves to be an agent of change in the times of the Arab Spring. Their participation in the arena of political struggle also revealed the heinous and misogynist characteristic of the police institutions of the Arab states, where despotism and misogyny walk hand in hand to maintain the status quo. While we speak of women’s participation in struggle, we should not expect the results to be immediate and unquestionable. I think it is premature to claim to have the final say regarding the impact of the Arab Spring on women’s rights in the region. Women’s freedoms can be achieved with the progress of the society towards human and civil rights, and this process has just begun in the Middle East.

I am no supporter of the viewpoint which says that women are the biggest losers of the Arab Spring. Dictatorship and despotism can never nurture a freedom-loving society. We should think along the lines of breaking the tip of the iceberg, which is to oust the head of the system first, then strengthen our tools of organising and struggle, and keep on stressing on an egalitarian and freedom-loving social agenda. Only then will we be a credible opponent to the despotic ruling systems of the Middle East, and may have a chance at giving way to an established women’s equality agenda.

Although our organization (OWFI) demands immediate full rights and equality for women, and we do not agree to a lower platform in the political and organizational arena, we know that revolutions can and have to be messy, including many stages of progress before the final results can be reaped.

It is true that the Islamist right had their political parties well established and were ready for a day like this, but they are just filling temporarily into the transitional vacuum which the revolution had created. Now that the rebel groups had their lessons about the importance of political parties, it is the time to mobilize, organize and constitute the political heirs of the new era of revolution, where the mandate will revolve around freedom and equality – in resonance with the French revolution.

MY: In a recent interview, you said that Iraq has “turned into a society of 99 percent poor and 1 percent rich.” Is the Occupy movement relevant to Iraq?

YM: The essence of the first demonstrations of the Iraqi Tahrir square in February 2011 was a revolt against the huge gap which was created between the ruling class in the Green Zone and the people who suffer to put a meal on the table. The main slogans were: Jobs, Services, Corruption, and Freedoms. The slogan which outlasted the rest was “corruption”, as the people could no longer accept that each PM takes a salary and benefits which equal 30 times that of a standard government employee, many of whom are threatened by privatization or lay-offs. And while widows can hardly get a monthly payment of $120, forty billion dollars got lost from the 2010 governmental budget without any trace of those who could be held accountable.

There are other similarities. The 1% of Iraqis who (mostly) live in the Green Zone were coached by American instructors on the responses they should give to the 99% of Iraqis who are working-class and jobless. And a huge governmental body was created to absorb all the ethnic/sectarian militia groups which currently seize 30% of the annual GDP, while its members mostly spend their time in their resorts in Europe.

And finally, the lessons learned by the 1% have been similar: creating anti-riot police, a huge police force, dozens of secret security and intelligence institutes, and a huge army which has recruited almost one million Iraqi men under the supervision of the prime minister. This gigantic security system stood helpless in confronting 16 terrorist attacks of ‘Bloody Thursday’, on 22 December.

In reference to the name ‘Occupy Wall Street’, I recall one of the biggest days of the Iraqi demonstrations. On the February 25, 2011, “day of rage” in the Iraqi Tahrir square, we attempted to push the concrete slabs which separated the Tahrir square from the green zone (via Al Jumhuriya bridge) so as to cross into the Green Zone and eventually to occupy what is rightfully ours. But CNN was not interested in showing this to the rest of the world. I also remember a point when we were watching the events of the Egyptian Tahrir square. I wrote a statement then that they needed to occupy the presidential palace, and not keep the demonstrations passive.

The OWS movement has made a leap in identifying the movement as a class movement against the owners of the capital in the US, which echoed instantly in the biggest capitals around the globe, thus turning the movement into a global working-class movement.

MY: The ‘Arab Spring’ was repressed in Iraq, as it has been elsewhere, via modern methods of crowd control. There has recently been some controversy over the shipping of tear gas from the US to Egypt. Much of the police training and equipment in the recent repression is sourced from Western countries. Given this, what do you think activists in Europe and the US can do to help those in Iraq who wish to exercise their right to protest?

YM: The biggest factor in the repression of the Iraqi demonstrations was the detainment of thousands of organizers, subjecting them to physical torture, and keeping them for many months under surveillance. Many of our colleagues were detained many times and still went back to Tahrir square, but there comes a time when their families cannot endure the difficulty anymore.

Many of the organizing groups’ headquarters were raided, and the activists detained from there. Our office in central Baghdad was raided twice. Once it was kept under siege by the army, which closed the street in front of us. This was ironic, as we are a women’s organization and work mainly to empower abused women in our shelters. Two of our OWFI team were and still are residents in our shelters, and apparently disempowered by the tribal and religious scene. Yet both of them were leaders in Iraq’s Tahrir square, and organizers of Facebook groups of young women and men. For some young women the demonstrations provided a major opportunity, allowing them to go from being simply a trafficking victim to being a leader of thousands of protesters. This brought about one of our Tahrir square slogans: “Women have nothing to lose but their slavery.”

A new technique which the government used against the women of our organization was to assign a group of thugs, dressed in civilian clothing, to surround us and intimidate the woman activists, beating them, groping them, and trying to undress them. The governmental security system attempted to sexually shame OWFI’s women activists to prevent them from returning to Tahrir square. We wrote our statements and published them in Iraq and the US, but the American media was only interested in addressing questions to those who hold political power in Iraq. They were not interested in the Iraqi Spring. In their understanding, Iraq had already become democratic and those who demonstrate are not “thankful” of their so-called liberation.

MY: The nine-year occupation has fragmented Iraq. In your opinion, is Iraqi society now coming back together, or does it remain divided?

YM: Society at large, I think, now has more awareness about the purposes of sectarian division and its beneficiaries. We witnessed in Tahrir square that nobody identified themselves by religion or sect. The only ones to step into that practice were the few clerics who came numerous times and tried to hold the Friday prayers, but they were embarrassed when they were not followed by many, and did not repeat their visits.

The other big change was that when Ayatollah Sistani issued a statement against the demonstrations – calling them “suspicious” – that decree was not obeyed by the 75,000 people who participated in the demonstrations of all the Iraqi cities on February 25. Neither was Muqtada Al-Sadr’s suggestion to hold a referendum in six months’ time on whether to join the Arab Spring. These two facts had announced the beginning of a new era in Iraq, an Iraqi Spring if you may, where the religious figures seem to be losing their grip on their control of the political scene. Neither were the demonstrators sympathetic to any symbols of the previous Ba’ath regime, or the symbols of Arab Nationalist-fascists.

At Iraq’s Tahrir protests, we said many times that we were the shadow government members, the true representatives of the people. Immense repressive measures sent us back home and many young organizers were brutally tortured in the Muthanna airport detainment facility. We waited many days and weeks for those friends to be released, while being watched by the security thugs of our so-called democratic government.

This government of ethnic and sectarian divisions has proven that it does not represent the people in any way, especially now it has recently escalated the violence, killing almost a hundred civilians a few days after the US withdrawal for the mere reason that they needed military back up for their political struggle among each other. Nevertheless, we have a challenge ahead of us. We will undergo difficult times trying to organize and mobilize against the dividing lines that were planned and entrenched by the occupation forces.

MY: Thank you for talking to Ceasefire.

A banner which reads “What would Jesus do?” flies outside St. Paul’s Cathedral in London October 31, 2011. The Dean of London’s St Paul’s Cathedral resigned after the church said it would take legal action to evict a 200-tent anti-capitalist protest camp occupying the square outside. Reverend Graeme Knowles resigned just days after the cathedral Chancellor, Reverend Giles Fraser, quit in opposition to the legal action he said could result in violence done in the name of the church. (REUTERS/Suzanne Plunkett)

The current social conflicts have proved a challenge to Christianity. Millions of people are resisting consumerism, individualism, apathy, coldness towards others – aspects of capitalist society Christians devote much time to decrying. But ecclesiastical hierarchies haven’t rushed to embrace the Occupy and anti-austerity movements even as many, especially young Christians are sympathetic to the protesters. The Church of England’s dithering and high-profile resignations over the situation at St Paul’s are typical of the confusion.

Sadly, indecisiveness may be the more encouraging end of the spectrum. In the United States in particular, some Christian leaders have taken to attacking the Occupy movement. Chuck Colson, a Baptist leader and one-time advisor to Richard Nixon, denounced demands for greater income equality, claiming they were motivated by the sin of envy rather than a desire for justice. (He throws in a dash of neoliberalism, too: taxing the rich ‘will do nothing to help those in need or create a more just society, it just creates a bigger government’.)

Even if Colson is being sincere (which may not be the case), the spectacle of a wealthy church leader with connections to the highest levels of power lambasting the ‘envy’ of the have-nots invites charges of rank hypocrisy. Yet Colson claims to follow a first-century Jewish carpenter, born in a shed, living under foreign occupation, who was executed as a common criminal. How did we get there?

Since some right-wing Christian views – premillennial dispensationalism, say, whose adherents believe that the UN is a precursor to Antichrist’s one-world government – are more common in the US than they are in Britain, it’s tempting to focus on the lunatic fringe. But besides being unpleasantly smug, this also misses the point. The problem aren’t the apocalyptic outliers (influential though they may be), but an investment in western power that has captured mainstream Christian discourse, crowding out the Bible’s clear commitment to freedom from oppression.

The notion that western civilisation is built on a ‘Christian foundation’ that constantly finds itself threatened by secularism, poor people, feminism, and Islam has become a key element in conservative discourse, proclaimed daily in the pages of the Daily Mail and the Telegraph. Here’s David Cameron, declaring that ‘we are a Christian country’:

[T]he Bible has helped to give Britain a set of values and morals which make Britain what it is today. Whether you look at the riots last summer, the financial crash and the expenses scandal, or the ongoing terrorist threat from Islamist extremists around the world, one thing is clear: moral neutrality or passive tolerance just isn’t going to cut it anymore… And when it comes to fighting violent extremism, the almost fearful passive tolerance of religious extremism that has allowed segregated communities to behave in ways that run completely counter to our values has not contained that extremism but allowed it to grow and prosper.

This collection of social ills (bankers’ irresponsibility, rioting, terrorism) reveals that the message of the Bible has been reduced to a narrow obsession with propriety. While speaking of ‘values and morals’, David Cameron bombed Libya, is occupying Afghanistan, and supported the invasion and plunder of Iraq even before coming to power. His government is cutting benefits and services, attacking the disabled and the working class, and condemning millions to unemployment and poverty.

By branding the yearning for justice ‘envy’ Chuck Colson and David Cameron are not just slandering the Left: they’re insulting a collection of books I, as a Christian, take rather seriously. The Bible is in fact full of passages praising justice, and warning oppressors that judgment is coming. For example, God lambasts an Israel that had become obsessed with the minutiae of religious ritual but neglected the oppressed in its midst. Rejecting their ostentatious fasting, the Lord says (Isaiah 58:6-10):

Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.

As a result of historic defeats the language of the Left is often focused on outcomes, ‘equality’ and ‘social justice’. The Bible, on the other hand, is more forthright: it talks of freedom, loosing the yoke, setting the prisoners free. Its vision of another world is not one that is more equal, but one in which the ‘Downpresser Man’ has been vanquished, and revolutionary discourses heavily influenced by the Bible – reggae, for example – reflect this.

But that’s not the Christianity David Cameron offers us. To him, the Bible supports those in authority, especially if they’re punishing ‘immorality’. Following Laurence Vance I’ll call this imperial Christianity: a theology that identifies God’s work in the world with specific states it expects Christians to support, sometimes to the point of apocalyptic ruthlessness. This is especially prevalent in places where the church hierarchy has a stake in the state – as in the US – or is even intertwined with it, as in Britain.

Imperial Christianity is old: it dates to the fourth century, when Christianity became the state religion of the Roman Empire, and theologians began to identify the church with the Empire. Was Rome not God’s instrument through which all nations would be converted and civilised? Were not the Christian empire’s wars against its pagan enemies wars between God and the Gentiles? It could be no coincidence, surely, that Jesus had been born during the reign of Augustus, the first emperor.

In The City of God, St Augustine (354-430) lobbed a grenade into the heart of imperial Christianity. ‘Remove justice’, he wrote, ‘and what are kingdoms but gangs of criminals on a large scale? … If [a criminal gang] wins so many recruits from the ranks of the demoralised that it acquires territory, establishes a base, captures cities and subdues peoples, it then openly arrogates to itself the title of kingdom…’

This was not what God’s kingdom was like, Augustine explained: ‘[t]he safety of the city of God is such that it can be possessed, or rather acquired, only with faith and through faith’. The earthly and the heavenly city were ‘interwoven… and mingled with one another’ but ultimately distinct. Whatever the fate of earthly Christian empires, they were not where a Christian’s loyalty ultimately lay.

Jesus himself did not tell us to work hard defending an imaginary Christian polity, as if that polity could be Christian in any meaningful way while oppressing its poor and occupying foreign countries. Instead, he told us to spend our time helping our fellow human beings. Famously, he said that God would divide human beings into two groups in the end (Matthew 25:34-45):

Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

Let’s spell out the implications of this passage, adapting Naomi Klein. If he is ‘the least of these’, then Jesus is a Palestinian woman giving birth at a checkpoint in the West Bank, a fourteen-year-old jailed for rioting in Tottenham, a peasant starving in Somalia, a factory worker losing her home to foreclosure in Michigan, an Iraqi street orphan, a black man on death row in Texas, a raped woman who’s told she ‘wanted it’, a Foxconn employee who kills himself out of despair in China.

He is all the people we have been told to fear and despise, the whole suffering mass of humanity, the wretched of the earth. It’s not Christian to defend mansions and missiles just so long as the government will keep gay marriage illegal. Christian life is to unmask the discourses of power and to end oppression. The promise of Christmas is that injustice will not last forever.

Three weeks ago, on December 6th 2011, the Irish government announced new and harsh austerity plans as part of a tight budget. The annual budget was once something the public waited for in great anticipation as it usually brought a rise in social welfare payments and a slash in taxes. This year, however, as happened in the preceding one, it became a dreaded aspect of living in 21st century Ireland, a country plagued by a seemingly incurable economic depression.

Cuts were made to transport, agriculture, education and health. The cost of college registration fees rose along with the gradual phasing out of maintenance grants for less well-off students. Taxes were introduced for almost everything and anything, including a water tax and a house tax. (The only tax not to be introduced was a ‘scratch your ass’ tax). VAT and car tax were also raised significantly.

Savage cuts were made to allowances for the disabled and lone parents; fuel allowance for pensioners weren’t spared either. The 2012 budget ensured one thing and one thing only: In Ireland the poor get poorer. For its part, the government declared the budget aimed to rebuild the Irish economy and strengthen a suffering society, but the truth is that this vicious programme of deep cuts and high taxes will only serve to weaken society even more.

The Irish government stated that it could get the country back on track over a four year period during which severe austerity measures will be carried out. As Ireland is officially a ‘programme country’ we must answer to others, our own domestic dealings are not entirely ours to decide upon any more. In order to meet the financial targets imposed by the IMF-EU-ECB troika, the government set out plans to raise 1.6 billion Euros through taxes while making savings of 2.2 billion through spending cuts.

The sectors most affected by these cuts included health and education. While suicide rates in Ireland are soaring, mental health projects have been cut; no longer can we claim to be the island of saints and scholars, as our education system is ultimately crumbling under harsh austerity measures.

Before being delivered to the Irish public, the 2012 budget was firstly given a look over by the Bundestag. Our economic sovereignty is gone and so too it seems is our general dignity. This did cause an uproar across the country, but only a slight one, because the Irish people were not surprised that the likes of Germany had to look at our domestic financial issues and decide what is best for us: we are essentially part of their economic empire.

While Ireland can try and battle with domestic issues such as the collapse in social morale, we can only bow and answer to Europe as serfs, the real winner in this economic crises is Germany, which is emerging out of the crisis with the most dynamic economy in Europe, slowly consolidating its position as an international power. Germany cannot be blamed for the collapse of the Irish economy, we did that ourselves through capitalist-driven greed and corruption, but Germany is certainly gaining from misfortunes such as ours. 

While bailouts are being pushed upon countries such as Spain, and while Ireland and Greece have already had to swallow their bitter pills, Germans aren’t too unhappy about reaping the benefits of securing cheap outlets for their goods. As Germany grows, countries such as Ireland shrink back into pre-modern economic conditions. As Germany’s economic empire expands across Europe, hollow talks continue of European re-unification attempts; we are living in ironic times indeed.

As it happens, the unveiling of the 2012 budget coincided with the ninetieth anniversary of the signing of the Anglo-Irish treaty, a document that brought about the end of the war of independence and the setting-up of a semi-independent Irish free state. Ninety years on, and although we are no longer under the rule of the British, we now find ourselves under the no-less-iron-fisted rule of the IMF. It makes one think blasphemous thoughts: that we Irish are not happy unless we are under the rule of others, that it is in the Irish psyche that we be miserable, beaten down and ruled by anyone except ourselves.

The Irish government under Taoiseach Enda Kenny is following the orders of the EU and IMF by splitting Irish society in two, a society of the haves and the have nots, the latter being the much more common element in Ireland these days. There is a sense permeating Irish society today that we have been dragged up and drawn out and are no longer any good. That sense of worthlessness hangs heavy over Irish society, a society with no anticipation of hope.

The cry from the Occupy movement is that if you won’t stand for something, you will fall for everything, the truth of the matter is that we Irish fell when the banks crashed in 2008 and were already on our knees by the time the IMF arrived on our door step in 2010.

When the Celtic tiger days evaporated, Irish society came crashing back down to earth with an unmerciful bang. However, it’s worth pointing out that although great wealth was created during the fat years, it was not distributed equally. A two-tier society was already emerging out of the capitalistic excesses of the boom times, those who had it and those who had too much of it. Now we bear witness to the rotten aftermath of such excess as the upper class now finds itself merely a middle class, while the pre-crash middle class have joined the ranks of the working class. Needless to say, the working class, who had been struggling all along, now must struggle even harder.

As we end the year 2011, we see the poor get poorer and the rich run away. The bankers who helped us get into this mess, along with the corrupt politicians, are all gone now but, unfortunately, not to jail. They have left a society which created greed, thrived on greed and now has been utterly and completely consumed by greed. If only we had taken control of ourselves and managed our wealth properly all those years ago, if we had shared it equally, then maybe we might not be in this mess right now.

Instead, those who had control of our purse-strings during the boom years got completely drunk on money and wasted it on meaningless, lavish follies: for example roads that went nowhere, a useless tram system in Dublin city and an even more useless spire in the middle of O’Connell street. All this while school children in some counties waited for classrooms to be upgraded from cabins to buildings; prospective rural transport projects were left ignored and hospitals succumbed to overcrowding leading to almost third-world conditions.

The 2012 budget dished out high taxes and mean cuts and even more excuses for this generation to emigrate. And who can blame them? Whatever you do in this country, don’t get sick, don’t get old and don’t be young because these austerity measures have made it impossible to lead a decent life on the emerald isle.

“The Gangjeong base resistance is a grassroots movement that goes well beyond militarisation and the severe threats it entails. Human rights, the environment and free speech are also at stake. Though small and remote, Gangjeong village should be viewed as an important battleground for all who believe in social justice worldwide.”

~ Noam Chomsky

They have huddled together in their makeshift camp through rain, snow and even typhoons – occupying government-claimed land and defying authorities with their art, protest songs, candlelit vigils and handmade signs. This particular occupy movement had been in the making for four years before the worldwide wave of 2011. Indeed, it was only a few months ago that no more than a handful of people outside of South Korea had caught wind of what was taking place in Gangjeong village.

On September 2^nd 2011 the occupation of the Gangjeong military base construction site ended – the result of a brutal crackdown by nearly two thousand riot police. More than 35 people were arrested that day. Some were just released this past week after being held without bail for weeks.

Since 2007, residents of Jeju Island, South Korea, have been risking their lives and their freedom to prevent the construction of a naval base on what many revere as the picturesque island’s most beautiful coastline. This military base is to be home to both U.S. and South Korean naval vessels and a sea-based Aegis ballistic missile defense system. The proposed location of this base is Gangjeong, a small farming and fishing village that has reluctantly become the site of an epic battle for peace.

The Jeju Island naval base resistance is, in my opinion, the absolute front line of the struggle for international peace, and is increasingly gaining recognition as such in the minds of my colleagues and some leading scholars. The Gangjeong villagers have been waging a tireless and highly effective fight that stands in stark contrast to what has been a largely unsuccessful international peace movement that all too often lacks focus, unity and realistic goals.

Looking back over our collective history of non-proliferation and disarmament efforts, the initiation of the Intermediate Nuclear Forces Treaty (INF) was the last measurable success in the face of U.S. militarism. Since then, U.S.-led coalition wars have nearly been the constant. In addition, global military spending has increased dramatically—not missing a beat despite widespread budgetary cuts and even going up as warfare costs shrink due to the increasing replacement of larger more expensive weapons platforms with unmanned systems.

For international peace activists, the Save Jeju Island campaign is what many have been waiting for: An entirely winnable cause for peace with significant international implications. The Jeju Island naval base project is not only highly symbolic, but also quite dire in its potential impact on global security.

The planned Jeju naval base facility would have a capacity for two submarines, 20 large destroyers and up to two aircraft carriers. Its purpose, as stated by both South Korean and U.S. military officials, is to project force towards China. Many experts believe that the location of the base will provide a forward operating installation in the event of a military conflict between the U.S. and China.

The Aegis ballistic missile defense system will also be based at the Jeju Island base, among the largest naval installations in the region if completed. This Aegis BMD platform is a small component of a much larger US strategy to contain China – at the expense of South Korea. If the base is completed Jeju Island is destined for destruction, as tensions escalate between the world’s two economic superpowers. War hawks in the US are not shy about stating that an eventual war between China and the US is possible.

I am completely confident that this base project can be defeated. A victory in Gangjeong village could be the first shot across the bow of the military industrial complex. A Gangjeong victory could serve as a model that could be scaled up and applied to the next fight for peace.

So, what needs to be done and what are the challenges to achieve this?

First, I would like to provide you with a short overview of where we stand in Gangjeong village at this very moment from what I have observed firsthand over the past few months in my capacity as the global outreach coordinator for this campaign. I have also spent five weeks working hand in hand with activists on the ground on Jeju Island. To simply say this non-violent resistance is an inspiration would be a grand understatement.

The villagers are now into their fifth year of fighting to halt construction of the naval base, and at this point there can be no doubt that they are at the most critical juncture of that fight. The peace activists and residents are waging a 24-hour struggle for peace. Each day in Gangjeong they organize events that are worthy of international media attention.

However, because of the remoteness of the village and language/cultural barriers with international activists and media, for the first four and a half years their efforts remained in what I refer to as the “Jeju bubble.” For example, colleagues of mine in the United States who are known as Korea security and nuclear experts were completely unaware of what was taking place. In fact some did not even know where Jeju Island was located. Today that has changed and we have, through the hard work of many people, placed the Save Jeju Island campaign in media outlets around the world, such as Al Jazeera, MSNBC, PressTV, The Washington Times and the New York Times.

We in the peace community are very fortunate that the villagers have a highly sound and logical argument against the base that stands on documented evidence and scientific fact across multiple disciplines. This alone has removed many challenges that plague some peace campaigns. We are winning over new supporters from all areas of the political spectrum daily around the world, though this process relies heavily on consistent international press coverage and outreach efforts.

When the entire argument is laid out I have found that even the most hawkish of my colleagues, including current and former military personnel, are disturbed by the location of the base. As an example, even if an individual is in favour of increasing the U.S. military presence in the Asia-Pacific region, the environmental argument against the base is compelling enough to outweigh the benefits.

The case against the naval base is divided into four core aspects: (1) International Security (2) Human Rights (3) Environmental/Cultural (4) Legal. These categories provide abundant opportunities for outreach.

International security

Located approximately 300 miles from China, the simple presence of the Jeju Island naval base alone will undermine China’s national security and strategic nuclear deterrent. This ability to undermine grows exponentially when we take into consideration the presence of Aegis destroyers outfitted with a missile defense platform. Currently up to three Aegis Destroyers will be present on the base site. That number could rise to six or even higher with occasional visits of U.S. Aegis ships that should be expected.

Many world-renowned experts and missile defence analysts have stated that this base is completely ineffective at addressing the true threat to South Korean security—the missile threat from North Korea, since the Aegis system cannot target DPRK ballistic missiles as a result of their flight trajectory and altitude.

The location of the base does, on the other hand, serve as a prime location for the intercept of DF-3 and DF-4 ballistic missiles located in South East China that could in theory be used to target Japan. The base is also expected to serve as a temporary port for U.S. submarines and carriers such as the USS George Washington, which has been involved in war-gaming exercises with the ROKN.

It is especially concerning when the depth of the planned Gangjeong port is studied, which suggests that it is more than adequate to host nuclear armed U.S. Trident submarines (SSBN). It is not far-fetched to imagine a Cuban Missile-style crisis.

The temporary basing of an SSBN carrying nuclear weapons during a time of extreme tension between the U.S. and China would provide an unparalleled first-strike ability. For this and many reasons China is and will continue to be increasingly concerned about the Jeju Island naval base. Simply put, this military venture stands to benefit U.S. national and economic security policy and not that of South Korea.

The base will create far more problems than it will solve. Contrary to some misconceptions in the press South Korea and China enjoy positive relations. In fact, China is South Korea’s number one trading partner. I think we all know who stands to benefit economically from a breakdown in ROK-PRC relations. That same country that just signed a Free Trade Agreement with South Korea: the United States.

Human Rights

The second dimension to the Jeju base argument is human rights. Gangjeong villagers are being targeted by police for their political beliefs. The police have fined, imprisoned and held innocent villagers for legally standing up for peace in Gangjeong village. The tool for their oppression is referred to as ‘Article 314′, a law commonly used for pressuring trade unions and cracking down on public assembly.

The police even monitor Twitter to find people who post the most and then forcefully investigate them. At the same time IP addresses that trace back to the security services have been seen perusing the campaign’s primary English language website, looking though videos and pictures from peace rallies. This is to be expected but is unacceptable in light of a recent wave of the police calling innocent citizens in for questioning by detectives.

Recently 200 villagers were called in for questioning. These people have committed no crime and are not affiliated with any criminal enterprises. If these targeted villagers and activists do not arrive for questioning they are hit with crushing fines and can even be arrested. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

At the moment we are presenting this evidence to leading international human rights organisations. Additional examples include the names of 70 peace activists and four peace organisations being posted on a large sign in the village, stating the penalties they face if they cross the line at the naval base site. These people have committed no crime and this is seen as a form of intimidation.

Recently three men were released from prison after being held without bail for 92 days. One of them was the democratically-elected mayor of the village. They are just three in a long line of villagers and activists who have been held without bail for more than one month. A female journalist was also recently arrested, harrassed and accused by police of being a communist. These are just samples and the list goes on and on.

Environmental/Cultural

The third argument includes a combination of cultural and environmental sensitivities – with three key focal points. Focal point one is the indisputable archaeological significance of the Gangjeong naval base construction site. Historic relics from the Bronze Age to the Joseon Dynasty are scattered widely across the base site and have been recently discovered along with human remains.

Despite these significant findings the lead contractors on the project, Daelim and Samsung, are recklessly ploughing forward. At this moment the Navy is racing as fast as possible to build the base before more relics are discovered—demolishing what may be land parcels that are culturally and historically significant.

The second focal point in this category lies in the past and its cultural significance. The last time a military base was located on Jeju Island, more than 30,000 people were killed in a genocide known as Sasam, killed by the South Korean government under US military rule. It is absolutely certain that this naval base will deliver more trauma, pain and death to the people in Jeju at some point in the future. Maybe not in one year, many not in ten years, but that day will come if Jeju is militarised.

With the trauma that the senior members of Jeju endured, the idea of militarising the island should be temporarily suspended and a vote held. The people of Jeju have the right to choose their destiny and not be subjected to a massive military presence once again. For far too long Korea has suffered as a result of other nations’ pursuits and wars. US ships docking at the Jeju naval base will encourage a return to those dark days.

The third prong is the many environmental and cultural designations that Jeju enjoys. Those who have traveled to the Island know that it is one of the more idyllic locations on the planet. Jeju is also internationally recognized as the Island of World Peace—a distinction that seems impossible to maintain with a U.S. carrier and 20 destroyers sitting in port for any duration of time.

Even the nearest large city to the base, Seogwipo, is known officially as the City of Peace and Hope. The island also boasts three UNESCO World Natural Heritage Sites, a designation that must be reviewed at timed intervals by an official committee. The nearest UNESCO site to the base is approximately two kilometres away. There are also nine UNESCO Geoparks on the island. Compromising the status of any of these could be an economic hit to an island deeply reliant on tourism.

The island is also known as a Global Biosphere Reserve because of the diversity of its plants and animals. Most recently Jeju was declared one of seven new Wonders of Nature in an international competition. One of the lead contractors on the project, Samsung, and the South Korean navy are at this moment dredging soft coral beds to make way for the base. Both parties ignorantly claim that after this “environmentally-friendly” military base is completed that the coral can be “reconstituted” and endangered species of which there are many on this particular coastline can be relocated safely.

Moreover, the coastline where the base is being constructed is one of the only locations on all of Jeju Island that has a natural spring with crystal clear water. The preservation of this environment would be impossible with such a massive military facility. What few people know is that this entire area was designated an “Absolute Preservation Zone” meaning that it was protected. The military simply ignored that designation.

Legality

The fourth component is the legal dimension—specifically referring to the process that led to the approval of the base construction in the first place. At face value the base construction approval process seems to have been approved by a democratic vote. This is the claim made by the South Korean military on a regular basis.

The truth is that only 87 people, some of whom were bribed, out of 1800 residents had an opportunity to cast a vote on this matter. The remaining 1,700 in the village had no voice and no say in the discussion, contrary to what is claimed by the military. There was no paper trail to provide transparency into this sham vote, because the votes were not documented on paper, but were cast by applause—yes, by clapping.

What is most disturbing is that a local media outlet announced that the base construction project was approved before the voting process was even completed. When the village held their own re-vote, which fairly included the entire community, 94 percent of all villagers opposed the military base — yet the government and military refused to recognise the results.

Above all, the people of Gangjeong demand a new fair referendum that ensures all people in the village have a voice. This is not an extreme or radical demand. A new referendum will end the protests and this five-year battle that has disrupted a community, left residents in prison and compromised the local economy. Just last week the democratically-elected Mayor of Gangjeong who oversaw the new 94 percent vote was recently released from prison for standing against these affronts to democracy.

He was held without bail for more than three months. Above all the lack of transparency and abundance illegalities are mounting, yet the project continues. Recently the provincial government called on the military to halt the demolition of the coast, yet the military regularly operates above the provincial government so there is simply nothing stopping this project. The military is running the show in Korea, above the people, above the provincial government.

These four dimensions, the arguments contained within them and even more key points that I have not listed present an unprecedented opportunity for the international NGO community to assist the Gangjeong villagers in this noble fight. This is a very well targeted and refined campaign, rooted in facts. This fight is entirely winnable. So why is construction still continuing? Why has victory yet to be seen?

There are critical hurdles that offer an answer as to why we have not won this fight already. Firstly, the opinion of the Gangjeong people on this matter means very little, if anything, to the key government and military officials who can stop this base project. Especially with so few people on the Korean mainland involved.

This fight is taking place behind a curtain. If not for the those few in the Korean civil society groups that are devotedly assisting Gangjeong villagers, a handful of non-profits in the international community, religious leaders in Korea and brave media outlets, few people outside of Jeju Island would even know that this fight is taking place.

In the “Jeju bubble” the military is running the show, and illegalities can go unnoticed and therefore unquestioned. Brutal crackdowns, illegal interrogations, arrests and incarcerations are just a few examples of what is taking place under the cover of darkness. One does not have to look far to see the frustration that people have with the political process in South Korea. The important victory of Park Won Soon, who belongs to no major political party, in the race for Mayor of Seoul reflects this.

As long as NGOs, human rights, religious and civil society groups do not redouble their efforts to call attention to what is happening in Gangjeong then there can be no accountability.

On the bright side Korea is changing politically and it is happening very fast. Trends surrounding the victory of Park Won-soon stand to continue and significantly change the balance of power in Korean politics, by way of the Korean Parliamentary elections that will be held in April 2012.

Those trends I speak of can be best described as follows: What we witnessed during the election of President of Barack Obama campaign in the US is about to take place in Korea, in the country’s very first social networking sites (SNS)/internet driven-race for the presidency in December of 2012. The Seoul mayor’s race was a beta-test of that web-based campaign model.

It is my opinion and even that of two Korean National Assembly members that I spoke with in Seoul that the hope of defeating the naval base project rests on the upcoming parliamentary election. The Lee Myung-Bak GNP/Hannara-led government is not listening to the people of Korea: No riot, protest or news article will change their stubborn ways. Change will only come with a new government.

With an opposition majority in the parliament, a victory against militarisation becomes far more possible than in this current state. Additional political trends in Korea reflects a state of unrest that is being seen internationally from the Euro-zone to Zuccoti Park in the New York City.

In Korea, running in parallel to the conventional political climate, a spate of popular uprisings has taken place. Most notably are the protests against the South Korea-United States Free Trade Agreement (KORUS-FTA). A process of convergence is currently underway between the FTA rallies and the Gangjeong resistance.

The Jeju Island naval base issue has the potential to become a leading political hot button topic – much more than it is now – if in the coming weeks it is adopted by political candidates fighting for national assembly seats. This will greatly accelerate the public education effect in Korea and in the region.

As I have said, the people of Gangjeong are waging an incredible campaign and it is being executed quite flawlessly. They are delivering the tools of victory to the international NGO community on a silver platter—an NGO community that has gone too long without a victory.

Imagine the Gangjeong struggle as a relay race where the first group of runners is the Gangjeong people. They are a powerful force in the race against the naval project and US militarisation, but when they complete their leg of the race and go to hand off the baton, there are not enough people to receive it. The energy of the Gangjeong people is being squandered. We must plead with our colleagues around the world to rise up and join the Jeju naval base resistance, arm and arm in this struggle.

But where do we go once we have received the baton? Where to we run to? The answer is the Internet. The same place that delivered victory to Park Won Soon, the same outlet that will deliver the parliamentary elections to opposition democrats and the same place that will deliver an opposition president to the people of Korea.

SNS and the web is changing the world, it is just now beginning to change Korea. Moreover, in the fight against the naval base, the government will not respond to the people on Jeju, but they will respond to the web, they will respond to international media coverage and they will respond to international pressure. It is my hope that the web will shine light on the injustices being placed upon the Island of World Peace.

If you look to the recent examples of popular uprisings around the world in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya and Syria, the people alone cannot be victorious against a government that is deaf to their will and thumbs its nose at the democratic process. It was not until people around the world triggered a global movement on the web that milestones were reached and victory achieved.

Now of course, Jeju is not as big as the Tunisian uprising or what we witnessed in Egypt — and that is why we can win. This is our chance to set into motion a global movement against militarisation. Jeju will be the first in a series of victories. We cannot squander this opportunity.

To find out more about how you can get involved please visit www.savejejuisland.org

This week, Professor Samir Amin was in Nottingham, UK for a series of lectures and seminars organised by the Centre for the Study of Social and Global Justice (CSSGJ) University of Nottingham. Having delivered an initial talk at Nottingham Occupy about the Arab Spring we at Ceasefire were privileged to have the opportunity to carry out an in-depth interview with professor Amin. The interview covered topics as diverse as world systems theory, the Arab spring, political Islam, the contemporary crisis of capitalism and the nature of 21st century socialism.

Samir Amin is a Franco-Egyptian political economist, one of the leading world systems theorists, author of over 30 books, member of the International Council of the World Social Forum and Chairperson of the World Forum for Alternatives.

For nearly six decades Samir Amin has demonstrated tireless commitment to combining theory with practice by making it relevant and meaningful for developing political strategy and analysis. Entering his ninth decade he continues to be prolific in his analysis of contemporary political events and to be at the heart of anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist struggles.

The breadth and depth of knowledge and political experience that he demonstrated throughout the interview was striking. Particularly important was his analysis of the ‘autumn of capitalism’ (its decline and crisis) and his discussion of the conditions that will enable the development and consolidation of multiple springs of revolutionary renovation across the globe.

His spoke of his theoretical journey as one that begins from Marx but moves beyond the Eurocentrism of much classical Marxism by developing a voice from the South. This voice from the South places the inequalities between the core and periphery as the axis around which the most explosive contradictions of the capitalist system arise.

Those on the periphery of the Global South, including the informal poor and the peasantry are placed therefore at the centre of the practice and theory of revolutionary struggles, not on the margins. Their political experiences can offer lessons for those of us in the global north struggling against capitalism’s destructive tendencies.

Another striking aspect of our discussion was his focus on the logics of de-monopolisation at the heart of the Egyptian struggle. He talked of the lessons he continues to receive from new forces of revolutionary politics.

He found it striking how, instead of a depoliticized youth as presented in the mainstream media, the Egyptian youth he has worked with are clear in their rejection of the logics of competition and instead embrace logics of solidarity in their political organising.

He also explained how experiences such as these have led him to argue for the need for the left to be reflexive about its historic practices and to leave behind those that are no longer relevant for contemporary struggle and embrace questions of gender, ecology and participatory democracy.

Samir Amin brings to our contemporary struggles a wealth of experience, understanding and wisdom. Yet he also acknowledges that there can be no models professed by great thinkers which “we must follow”. Rather the struggle for emancipation and democracy is one of invention and creativity, of learning from the past and combining this with the realities and needs of present.

Historical patience is part of this, he argued, a historical patience that recognises that these will be long struggles which will have both victories and defeats. Yet, he believes these are struggles through which we may be able to transform the autumn of capitalism into the spring of 21^st century socialism.

Andrew Robinson’s two-part introduction to the work of Samir Amin can be read here and here.

My new friend’s brother had travelled through Ecuador some years ago and had but one suggestion: visit the male prison. We spent the rest of the day researching British prisoners in Quito and came up with a list of names. The next morning we were standing on the road by the hostel trying to find a taxi driver willing enough to take us there. Very soon we were queuing up outside the prison along with wives, girlfriends, parents, children, and what I now know were prostitutes.

At 1pm the women were waved through, followed shortly by us men. A guard stood at the head of the queue with two A4 sheets of names; at first I thought we might have had to pre-register our intent, but in fact he was checking our names against a blacklist. Our names were not on there (I would have been rather concerned if they were) and we were duly ushered along to a desk where the guards seemed to be doing nothing other than decide whether they liked our faces before stamping our arms.

Still outside the high walls of the compound, we handed our passports over to two chatting ladies who gave us no receipt but another arm stamp. Next, a guard asked who we were there to see. We stated the name of a British prisoner whom we thought was there.

“Which wing is he then?” asked the guard.

“Erm, C?” we guessed.

“Through there,” he pointed in the direction of a doorway in which mingled a large group of other guards. We walked through and they pulled us to one side to be searched. The ‘search’ comprised a quick look inside our bag of food we’d brought along as a present and a light pat on our pockets. They didn’t bother to see what I had in my shoes nor whether the packet of chewing gum really was just that. Another stamp, and now a number written in marker pen on our arms. We were beckoned over to a final guard who put an ultraviolet mark on our arms. This, he explained, would tell the guards we’re not prisoners. Very useful.

And then we’re in. We find ourselves standing in a small, circular room, around which are doors leading to the various wings, arranged in a five-pointed star shape emanating from this central area. Leaning against the bars are lots of men shouting out, “Hey amigos!”

Left alone in that room we suddenly feel very intimidated, as if we’re on display for the amusement of the prisoners. One young Ecuadorian calls us over. He asks us, in Spanish, who we’re there to see. We repeat the name, our supposed pass into the prison. “Oh yes, I know him, come in here with me,” he says. Something about his mannerisms prevents us from trusting him. We wander slowly away and closer to one of the other gates. A young, white Bulgarian smiles back at us from the other side. “You want to come in?” he asks in perfect English, Why not?

A guard obligingly unlocks the metal door and stands aside to allow us through. The Bulgarian, Aleks*, shakes our hands enthusiastically and asks us again who we’re there for. “Oh, he was released ages ago,” he tells us. “There’s only one British guy here now and no-one talks to him because he’s addicted to crack and in too much trouble with the gangs.” We decide it’s a good idea not to meet this man, and Aleks willingly agrees to be our guide around the complex.

He leads us into a sunny courtyard enclosed by large concrete walls, topped by barbed wire. Around the edge sit prisoners with their wives, talking quietly and holding hands, some with their children. Aleks picks us a spot to sit and chat. “I haven’t had anyone visit me for seven months,” he tells us. “And my family has never visited.”

After he was convicted of attempting to smuggle a kilogram of cocaine back to Bulgaria, at the age of nineteen, his family has had little to do with him. Four years later, he is about to be released and couldn’t be happier about the prospect. “It’s not that life is hard here,” he confesses. “It’s just that it’s so boring.”

The prisoners’ regime is relaxed to say the least. They are locked into their cells overnight, woken up at 6am and then have until 9pm to do what they want within the confines of the walls. Inmates do what they can to pass the time and many take advantage of the educational classes such us carpentry (the resulting products are sold on the outside by the prisoners’ families).

There are also official job opportunities, like helping with the printing of documents. Others have started up their own businesses ranging from running restaurants to money lending. In the courtyard stands, amongst others, a stall behind which two Germans cook pizza and steak. They wave at us and beckon us over, handing us each a cookie. We offer Aleks lunch and together we sit down as a Russian comes over to take our orders and deliver cutlery.

I take the opportunity to ask Aleks about the events leading up to his arrest. He and a friend were approached in Bulgaria with regards to doing a drug run from Ecuador. They were offered €15000 each for the job. He spent two enjoyable weeks in Ecuador before taking possession of the shipment. From the moment he walked into the airport he was shaking and sweating, pulling his hoodie over his head to conceal his fear.

He was phoned by his temporary bosses every few minutes, making him appear even more suspicious. He believes the airport security must have spotted him the second he walked in, for he was pulled aside as he went through passport control and taken away to be searched. He knew it was over and all he could think to himself was, “Wow, eight years.”

The Germans have a similar story. They were on holiday in Ecuador and saw an opportunity to make a lot of money very quickly. They tried to smuggle 300g between them through customs, got caught and were sentenced to six years each. Aleks’s judge was lenient and gave him just four years.

Lunch was rounded off by an incredibly delicious homemade German cake. A passing inmate laughed, “Food was terrible here before they came along!”
Aleks takes us upstairs to see his cell. I was shocked by what I saw. It’s small alright – just a few square feet and shared between three – but it contains all the mod cons. A huge flat screen TV, a PlayStation, cable, a private shower and even a kitchenette. (Prison food is notoriously bad, so many prisoners prefer to cook for themselves – or eat at one of the stalls.)

Aleks has to knock before entering because one of his cell mates is in there with his visiting girlfriend. He explains that he ‘bought’ the cell for $2000, which as well as all the belongings gives him various rights such as not having to vacate the cell during the day, a safe spot on the top floor and cell mates of his choice. It also means you can have congenial overnight visits: if one doesn’t have a cell, one has to squeeze in with thirty others into a small room while cell owners take care of business.

Everything revolves around money. Aleks estimates that $6 or $7 a day is enough to have a comfortable and safe life. With that you can eat at a stall once a day, buy your own food for cooking, and pay other people to do certain jobs. Addicts hang around everywhere waiting for someone to pay them to clean dishes or do laundry. Paying people is also a convenient way of ensuring you won’t be a target – people won’t jeopardise the chance to continue making money from you.

We pass a room emanating smoke. Crack and heroin addicts come and go. I ask Aleks how this is possible inside prison and he smiles. “Everything is banned in prison, but everything is possible.” He finds the addicts as confusing as I do. “I don’t know why you would spend so much money on it, get yourself into debt and be at the mercy of the lenders.”

Dodgy businesses abound. One ‘office’, as these enterprising cells are known, brews alcohol, another dishes out drugs. This is where corruption is most evident: guards are paid off weekly and no-one gets in trouble. It seems the best idea is to find a safe business opportunity – such as the man who has the ‘licence’ to sell cigarettes – and keep clean. That way you’ll come out with more money than you went in with.

I ask Aleks what prison has taught him. “I can speak five languages now and I can get on with anyone.” He seems to recall his first days in prison fondly. “I was terrified,” he admits. “Every day they were pulling a dead body out of here. Then the authorities moved the gang leaders to other prisons and things calmed down. Now things are safe, but there’s no edge to it.”

I wonder if it’s this desire for danger that drove him to take the risk of being a drug mule in the first place. However, he appears to have learnt his lesson. “I will never, ever, go near drugs again,” he says, looking me seriously in the eyes. “It hasn’t been a bad four years, but all I see are these walls. I want my freedom.”

Aleks is due to be released next month, but he doesn’t plan on returning to Bulgaria immediately. Instead, he has sorted out a couple of months’ employment in Ecuador. “That way I can return to Bulgaria without being deported and I can restart my life cleanly.”

While I was surprised to see the relative freedom and good conditions the inmates have, I can see how the sheer isolation and monotony is punishment enough. The (many) foreigners may have the access to enough money to make their lives snug, but they’re shunned by their former friends and family. The ones I spoke to seemed happy on the face of it, but that front is a thin veil over their desperation to leave the surreal community. “It must be nice to have so many friends here,” I tell one of the Germans, struggling to think of anything better to say.
He clasps my hand and stares me in the eye. “No-one here is really your friend.”

*Names and nationalities have been changed.