Human Rights and the "Other"

Credit: International Network of Liberal Women

In recent weeks, Human Rights Watch and Bill Gates released two reports on global poverty and the most pressing rights struggles of 2013. In Davos, some of the highest-earning and most powerful leaders of the world convened for the World Economic Forum.

Yet, as I live my life here in Paris, having completed a Master's degree focusing on human rights at the end of last year while at the same time undergoing a heart surgery, I contemplate what human rights means to me personally versus others. How much overlap is there between developing versus developed nations? How can I fully live within and access my own rights in a country that is not even my own? What I have come up with as I train in the park near my pink cottage, sending resume after resume, networking, flying to Rome to be with my French boyfriend who works for the United Nations and is also seeking long-term employment in his own country, trying to build the rest of a dream after significant resiliency most of my life, is how blurred the line is between those in need of accessing and fully realizing human rights standards. These are the people I love, live near, and work alongside.

The past few days the American news has been shaped by an announcement that AOL had reversed a decision regarding 401ks to its employees after a media frenzy regarding CEO Tim Armstrong's comment that,

Two things that happened in 2012. We had two AOL-ers that had distressed babies that were born that we paid a million dollars each to make sure those babies were OK in general. And those are the things that add up into our benefits cost. So when we had the final decision about what benefits to cut because of the increased healthcare costs, we made the decision, and I made the decision, to basically change the 401(k) plan.

The mother of the "distressed baby," Novelist Deanna Fei, published an eloquent and very brave response to her husband's employer in Slate magazine. Her husband, Peter S. Goodman, is the Executive Business and and Global News Editor of AOL's Huffington Post. The Goodmans are known to me because Arnold and Elise Goodman, the grandparents of the "distressed baby" girl, were the couple who gave me very my first job in publishing when I was nineteen years old. I worked from their home as their Literary Agency Assistant, and the position was a lifelong dream for this rural girl from a chaotic childhood with little resources earning and financing my undergraduate degree in Manhattan. I filed their contracts, letters to their children, answered their phone calls from the authors of the What to Expect When You're Expecting series, sent out rejection letters, and learned about publishing from two people who had made a wonderful life from it. They had a beautiful apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, two wonderful children, and to my young eyes they were living the good life.

Enter the life of their own grandchild. As an advocate for children's health, I was aghast reading the AOL CEO's comment but was not surprised. The state of healthcare in my own country is one of the most brutal abuses of rights in a wealthy and developed nation that exists. So is the cost of education. Enter where I live currently so as to actually complete a Master's degree before I turned 35. When I had my heart surgery last year, I was also a student who paid nothing to have that surgery. I had suffered from supraventricular tachycardia since I was seventeen years old but still went on to race ultramarathons and build running teams in support of women and children's health. But around the end of 2012, as my hormones shifted and I worked freelance while earning my degree and trained teams of ex-pat runners, I began to have heart episodes much more frequently. When my sisters' were visiting me last March and I looked up at my baby sister's worried face sprawled on a Parisian sidewalk in full-on tachycardia, I began to think the time had come to fix my heart. Then I read online that when I am pregnant someday my baby would also go without oxygen and experience the same horrendous effects I did when the tachycardia occurred plus it could affect the child's development; I knew it was time to have heart surgery.

For a Syrian Refugee in Palestine: A Lifelong Plight of Unanswered Rights

[Editor's Note: This blog post by IMOW contributor  Simba Russeau was originally published on Debating Human Rights for Blog Action Day 2013.]

On December 10, 1948 at the Palais de Chaillot, Paris, the first Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR) -- which consists of thirty articles -- was adopted by the United Nations (UN) in response to a global need for the observance and respect of human rights regardless of religion, gender, or race.

 “The first Universal Declaration of Human Rights isn’t the first but it’s the greatest and most important. It was drafted in 1948 by the fifty-six member states of the United Nations. Our goal was to draft text that would be universally accepted as rights and freedom that applied to everyone,” Stéphane Hessel, former Ambassador to the UN and a co-drafter of the UDHR in 1948 said.

“However, people continue to contest the first human rights declaration by stating that westerners drafted it. This isn’t true. People from all areas of the world drafted it. People have said that it was drafted by the colonial powers and not by the de-colonialised people of the world. This is also false because we did take into account that some people were already independent and others not yet and that this declaration needed to apply to them also.”

At the time of it’s drafting, a mass exodus was taking place. According to the United Nations Conciliation Commission for Palestine, the 1948 Nakba forced an estimated 711,000 to 725,000 from their homelands.

Calling into question the lack of energy put into securing the homeland of Palestinians at the time of the drafting of the UDHR. “There terrible crisis in the Middle East is still not solved but the declaration on human rights lays out all the things that should be applied by Israel,” adds Hessel.

“Please don’t mix the question of implementation and the question of declaring values. The declaration declares values but it’s the responsibility of the countries, non-governmental organisations and the people to implement those values and that has not happened when it comes to the ongoing conflict between Israel and the Palestinians.”

Forty-six year old Omar, who requested anonymity due to security concerns, was born in Syria. In 1948, his parents fled the city of Haifa, which is the largest city in northern Israel. More than 470,000 Palestinians were residing in Syria’s before the war. Many, like Omar, hail the hospitality offered to their ancestors during their desperate search for safe haven.

“Before the war, life in Syria was good. The Syrian government and the people treated us very well. Our families, who fled in 1948, were accepted without conditions and given full rights in the country,” Omar said. “I worked for a good company as a civil engineer. Basically, we lived as if we were Syrians. I earned a good salary, we had a home and I was able to provide for my family. Our children were getting a good education.”

Omar’s life changed when fierce clashes between fighters loyal to Syrian president Bashar al-Assad and the opposition engulfed the Palestinian camps of al-Yarmouk, which is nestled on the southwest outskirts of Damascus.

A Room of One's Own: Women and Power in the New America

A Room of One's Own: Women and Power in the New America (2006) by Cuban-American artist Coco Fusco (born 1960 New York City) is a powerful performance inspired by Virginia Woolf's famous essay, which deals with women and war.

The show begins with the artist wearing the typical U.S. army uniform, and she is on a stage performing the role of an interrogator. The American flag opens behind her and two screens: one projecting the traditional image of the eagle, the emblem of United States, and the sentence: United we stand. The other shows a CCTV live video of a prisoner in an interrogation room of Guantanamo. In this setting, Fusco makes the traditional military salute.

As a whole, the flags, the salute, and the other symbols transmit the same feeling and pride that reigns among the American soldiers, and their belief in a mission of developing civilization and democracy in the name of freedom.

As part of the performance, there is a manual in a PowerPoint presentation entitled, A Field guide for Female Interrogators’ describing the ‘tactics’ of interrogation. The use of this manual is and employs the hegemony of the power. In her speech, she satirically emphasizes the great achievement on the part of women and the use of their femininity in joining the war.

The entire performance addresses the Guantanamo Bay Camp and Abu Ghraib and is focused on the "Arab subject." The manual refers to Arab inhibitions in relation to sexuality, exposure, homosexuality, nudity, shame, and taboo; and arrogant women half-naked making explicit sexual gestures against the prisoners and violating their "religious doctrine." The woman is playing the role of a heroine, who triumphs against evil Muslims.

Through her work, Fusco reminds us that the conquest of sexuality has nothing to do with reversal roles of power and submission, and that it is not a competition of physical attributes.

A Room of One’s Own addresses the theme of military interrogations and demonstrates that the mission of civilization hides a policy of oppression, which leaves very little room for the value of democracy, freedom, and respect of cultural and gender diversities.

Coco Fusco is an interdisciplinary artist and writer. Her work combines electronic media and performance in several formats and explores the relationship between women and society, war, politics and race. She is a recipient of a 2003 Herb Alpert Award in the Arts. Fusco's performances and videos have been presented in two Whitney Biennials (2008 and 1993), the Sydney Biennale, The Johannesburg Biennial, The Kwangju Biennale, The Shanghai Biennale, InSite O5, Mercosul, Transmediale, The London International Theatre Festival, VideoBrasil, and Performa05. Her works have also been shown at the Tate Liverpool, The Museum of Modern Art, and the Museum of Contemporary Art in Barcelona.

Fusco is the author of English is Broken Here: Notes on Cultural Fusion in the Americas (1995), The Bodies that Were Not Ours and Other Writings (2001), and A Field Guide for Female Interrogators (2008). She is also the editor of Corpus Delecti: Performance Art of the Americas (1999) and Only Skin Deep: Changing Visions of the American Self (2003). Coco Fusco received her B.A. in Semiotics from Brown University (1982), her M.A. in Modern Thought and Literature from Stanford University (1985), and her Ph.D. in Art and Visual Culture from Middlesex University (2007).

Reclaiming the Veil in Tunisia

Editor's Note: Natalia Rankine-Galloway's post is a special feature to Her Blueprint in response to the recent outbreak of violence in Tunisia. Natalia is a mother of one, military spouse, and managing partner of Culture Baby. A global nomad, she is always traveling and frequently blogging about culture, motherhood, entrepreneurship, and her favorite destinations. You can read more at culturebabyblog.com.

As we stood side by side at the window watching crowds gather outside the US Embassy in Tunis, I asked Leila how things got so bad. She just shook her head. “This isn’t my country anymore” she said, “it used to be beautiful.” 

Tunisia is the northernmost country in Africa and lies along the Mediterranean Sea.

The violence that has gripped Tunisia in recent days was as shocking and sudden for me, a recent transplant, as it was for many Tunisians. Sporadic incidents of unrest had been reported around the country since the Jasmine Revolution of early 2011, but they had mostly involved the breaking of bottles of alcohol at tourist hotels or riots surrounding a controversial art exhibit.

Neither Leila or I knew as we parted ways that afternoon that by the next morning the Embassy would be smoldering and that the order to evacuate all but non-emergency personnel would part us. 

I began this post before the attack; my subject was to have been what the revolution meant for women in the new Tunisia. As I sit back at my computer now and revisit what I wrote, I can’t help but think of my last talk with Leila.

Leila, a working mother of two, had never worn a hijab or head scarf until after Jasmine revolution that launched the Arab Spring and deposed long-time dictator Zine el- Abidine Ben-Ali. Under the old regime, wearing even a simple hijab could invite harassment by police. Full-body coverings like the niqab were almost never seen.

It is counter intuitive to a Western observer to associate an authoritarian dictatorship in the Arab world with vehemently secular policies and an emphasis on women’s rights. But such is the legacy of Tunisia’s first president, Habib Bourguiba.

The famous Tunisian founding father, who requested the epitaph “liberator of women” be carved on his mausoleum, made the equality of the sexes among his top priorities upon Tunisia’s independence in 1956. Not solely on the issue of women’s rights, Bourguiba considered Islam writ-large an anchor around his efforts to modernize Tunisia and vigorously repressed Islamic opposition throughout his 30-year rule. When his grip on power weakened as he aged, an undercurrent of protest finally led to Ben-Ali’s takeover in 1987. 

Ben Ali was even more authoritarian than his predecessor, cracking down on any political opposition to include Muslim conservatism. At the same time, however, he instituted practical reforms like access to education and family planning; reforms that have resulted in Tunisia having some of the lowest infant mortality rates, highest percentage of female university students and highest female life expectancy of any country in the Muslim world. 

It is confusing to see a record of advancement on women’s rights set against a curtailing of basic human rights. Perhaps it was this incongruity that helped Ben Ali, who tightly controlled the country’s outward facing image, maintain his police state for so long; using the issue of women’s rights as a show pony that could be trotted out as evidence of his country’s modernity and freedoms. 

But the Jasmine revolution shattered that facade. It was a remarkable and peaceful revolution with global repercussions followed by a more remarkable and peaceful election almost one year ago. The Ennahda party, a moderate Islamist party that had been banned under Ben Ali since 1992 was elected to power and has been laboring to present the nation with its new constitution, due next month.

Tunisia: Longing For A Place To Call Home

Since the outbreak of war in 1991, Somalia has been left with no central government. Located in the Horn of Africa, this east African country has managed to maintain an informal economy based on livestock, remittances from its expatriate community, and the telecommunications sector. However, two decades of civil war has disrupted many lives and forced many Somalis to flee their country in search of asylum.

Sixty-three year old Hawiyeh Awal is one of them. Eighteen years ago Hawiyeh embarked on a treacherous journey through the desert with her daughter after violence, which claimed the lives of her entire family, and caused severe damages to both of her hands.

"Both of my hands were hit during a gun battle and they were unable to save my small finger on my left hand. My right hand suffered many fractures. After losing my family it was hard to ignore the situation anymore," Awal told Her Blueprint. "The government in Mogadishu wasn't doing anything to protect us and I needed to find safety for me and my daughter."

Relying on middlemen, Hawiyeh was able to survive a four month journey through the desert to finally reach her destination in Libya. For eighteen years, she managed to rebuild her life working as a domestic worker for Libyan families but then the civil war broke out.

When we met, Hawiyeh was sitting outside her makeshift tent with her daughter and grandson as they tried to find a bit of shade from the Tunisian desert's scorching sun. She was sitting on a white bucket that she had turned upside down to function as a temporary chair, while her daughter -- who is in her late twenties -- nibbles at the couscous mixed with onions and tomatoes they were given for lunch.

"I'm scared that I'm going to die in this hot desert," she explains. "I have diabetes and I've lost more than eight kilos since coming here because of the hot weather."

Like many other migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers from Southeast Asia and sub-Saharan Africa, Hawiyeh was once again uprooted from her fairly stable situation and forced to flee to Libya's North African neighbor of Tunisia by bus several months ago.

"The situation was getting really bad. Many families were being held up at gunpoint in their homes and robbed," Hawiyeh adds. "I started to worry for my daughter because she is without a husband and emotionally I just couldn't bear going through another war."

Tens of thousands of individuals have crossed Ras Ajdir border crossing to the under-equipped and under-staffed Shousha refugee camp in Tunisia with what little belongings they manage to salvage. For many, Libya was a relatively stable economy where one could find modest work or flee political violence due to Muammar Gaddafi's Pan African stance in the 1990's, which opened the country's borders.

Now many just wait for another border to open.

"My daughter and I can't bear the situation in this camp anymore because all we do is sit and wait. We're just hoping to be resettled in a safe place where I can find medical treatment because here we must first get approval from the Tunisian military in order to access any kind of healthcare," Hawiyeh adds. "The problem is that the West decided to bomb Libya in order to protect people but also decided to close their borders so no one is interested in protecting us. We're trapped here."

Tunisia: Faced With a Life in Limbo Part II

During my two week visit to the Shousha refugee camp on the Libyan-Tunisian border I had the fortunate opportunity of meeting several individuals who were trying to make the most out their new living situation after the Libyan civil war erupted. In part two of my series on how two young women have managed to overcome their obstacles while faced with a life in limbo I introduce twenty-year old Mowahab Abdullah Noor.

As a means of preserving her identity due to the nature of the story she reveals I opted not share her portrait but instead an artistic view of the sprawling tent city that was erected to house the thousands of economic migrants, political refugees and asylum seekers that sought refuge in Tunisia. This is her story.

My name is Mowahab Abdullah Noor and I'm twenty-years-old. I was born in 1990 and have never lived outside of Libya or ever seen my country of Sudan. My parents are from Al Fasher City in Darfur. The problems in Darfur started in 1958 when the Sudanese government started preventing Darfurian people from living a normal life like the other Sudanese by denying them access to government jobs, education in the University and there was a lot of racism.

Fearing for their life, my parents fled to the capital Khartoum and then to Tripoli in 1988 because during this time the government was attacking villages, taking women as hostages or using them as human shields and killing new born boys because they believed that once they reached adulthood they would take up arms against the central government.

There are some people that choose to close their eyes to the truth but I'll never stop sharing these stories.

While in Libya my father worked as a cook and my mother was a domestic worker for Libyan families. My two brothers and younger sister and I attended the best schools that our parents could afford and before fleeing Libya I was in my third year of University pursuing a degree in the medical field.

When the Libyan civil war broke out my family was shocked because we never thought revolutions on this scale could ever happen in the Arab world. Actually, in Tunisia and Egypt it was great to see the people take back their freedom after all those years of being oppressed but in Libya it took a bloody turn because people no longer respected the law and started raping women, taking hostages and killing people.

Eventually all the companies shut down and my father and I lost our jobs, our education was halted due to the closure of the schools and for two months we remained trapped in our house because no one was allowed to go out, especially men because they were killing any males caught on the street.

The situation became very difficult for us because we were drinking tap water, which was so salty and undrinkable but it was what we had. Whenever there was relative calm on the streets our mother would go out to the market for food but there were many days that we starved from running out of food.

As refugees we had only two options, which was to stay in Libya and risk being killed by the NATO airstrikes or be killed by the Libyans but luckily we learned that the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) was helping those stranded flee Libya and on the 9 May we arrived at the Shousha refugee camp in Tunisia. However, the reality of ending up in a refugee camp has been a big tragedy for our parents because they left Sudan to protect us from living this kind of life, only to find it again.

Through this experience I've learned to be strong and accept this current situation by volunteering and working with Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) where I've been able to work as a nurses aid and assist their psychologists who provide mental health services to inhabitants of the camp. This opportunity has actually allowed me to gain some hands on experience with working in the medical field, which is going to be helpful for when I'm eventually resettled in a new country and can resume my studies.

Tunisia: Faced With a Life in Limbo

Photo credit: NY Times

NATO's five month bombing campaign in Libya under the guise of protecting civilians has not only caused major disruptions to the lives of thousands of Libyan civilians but it has also taken its toll on countless numbers of refugees from sub-Saharan Africa who took up refuge in Libya after fleeing violence and persecution in their own countries.

In this two part series I'll introduce two young women whose lives were turned upside down when the "Arab Spring" reached Libya, and explore how they've managed to overcome their obstacles while faced with a life in limbo.

Twenty-year-old Eiman and her family was living a fairly good life in Libya before the war hit. Her parents, originally from Darfur, fled to Libya where Eiman and her brothers and sister were born.

At the time of the conflict, Eiman was in her third year of university where she was pursuing a degree in agronomy and nutrition but those dreams had to be put on hold as the situation worsened.

"We were so scared when fighting erupted between pro and anti-Gaddafi forces on my street because we could hear the guns, people were shouting and everyone was running from one area to the next trying to find safety," explains Eiman in an interview with Her Blueprint. "The security situation became unbearable when NATO started bombing and eventually we fled to Tunisia. My father who was in Benghazi working at the time of the fighting had to flee to Egypt and we're waiting for him to join us here in Tunisia."

Located in the middle of the desert along the main Libyan coastal highway leading to Tripoli just east of the southern Tunisian border crossing of Ras Ajdir, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) run Shousha camp has become home to thousands of refugees like Eiman since the outbreak of the Libyan war.

For most inhabitants of the camp, daily life has become difficult.

Art and Citizenship

Image via WikipediaLast week, President Obama made a trip to Ireland, and it was described in terms of finding his "roots." I watched a video in which he was described as a "rockstar," and felt the immense anticipation and pride that the audience (and the Obamas) felt that day.

To stand in a space and consider your roots and your legacy can be a joyous occasion. Art can also facilitate the connection between one's personal identity and their cultural heritage, and may reveal paths to a greater understanding beyond monolithic depictions of race and ethnicity. (Even Obama had to confront such misunderstandings recently when he presented his birth certificate to the public, finally putting the questioning of his citizenship to rest.)

I wonder, "How do art and citizenship intersect?" The first image that springs to mind is that of Peter Paul Rubens' depictions of war--but why? First, he was quite fascinated by the topic of war, as explained in this succinct Guardian UK article. This seems a timely thought since it was just Memorial Day weekend, too. I think that the reason that Rubens' works stand out to me has to do with the fleshy women that stood for national vulnerabilities, such as family (losing a member of family to war is a common tragedy), life in general (the ability to produce life), and on a more symbolic level, one's "land." Here's the image of the Allegory of the Outbreak of War:




An artist that honored history and our contemporary understanding of war and national identity is Maya Lin. She designed the internationally recognized Vietnam Memorial monument (shown above). Considering the subject matter, it was considered a controversial work because of its design. The symbols she used were not in keeping with the more traditional symbols of American citizenship, such flags or images of the soldiers who were in the Vietnam War.

There are other works, such as Picasso's Guernica, in which women played a major role in either the symbolic content or the creation of the works. Which spring to mind? How do they address citizenship and a nation's identity?

Afghanistan: In Present, Past, and Future

As mounting protests sweep through Egypt and tensions rise across the Middle East, last weekend Bloomberg published U.S., Afghan Study Finds Mineral Deposits Worth $3 Trillion highlighting that the initial deposit of minerals in Afghanistan thought in June 2010 to be worth $1 trillion dollars now totals $3 trillion. The New York Times also reported United Nations and Afhanistan officials were signing a formal agreement to end the, “recruitment of children into its police forces and ban the common practice of boys being used as sex slaves by military commanders.”

A vast swath of minerals and resources. War. Child soldiers. Is this Congo or Afghanistan? Women for Women International’s Factsheet for the upcoming 100th anniversary of International Women’s Day cites that 75% of civilians killed in war are actually women and children. Yet, Women for Women International (WfWI) exists to help women and children survivors of war rebuild their lives and has been on the ground in Afghanistan and Congo implementing programs since 1993. This year the organization is hosting their second call to action in a campaign called Join Me on the Bridge. Held on March 8, 2011 to mark the 100th anniversary of International Women’s Day, women will gather all over the world on bridges in that shared call for peace.

This year also marks the ten year anniversary of September 11, 2001, the day which provoked the War on Terror and initial invasion of Afghanistan. Late last year, after Afghanistan elections took place and the US announced plans for a 2011 slowdown and 2014 pullout, myriad articles focusing on Afghanistan were published by mainstream news sources reflecting life for the Afghanistan women and children who remain alive.

In Nicholas Kristof's What About Afghan Women?, the New York Times reporter and human rights advocate shares that although less women wear the full burqa, they keep them on hand “just in case.” Kristof also shares that most women he interviewed, “favored making a deal with the Taliban — simply because it would bring peace. For them, the Taliban regime was awful, but a perpetual war may be worse.”

“Oppression,” Kristof says, “is rooted not only in the Taliban but also in the culture.”

Nancy Hatch Dupree, cofounder of The Louis and Nancy Hatch Dupree Foundation, which is dedicated exclusively to “nation building through information sharing and to raise awareness and broaden knowledge about the history and culture of the people of Afghanistan throughout the United States,” has spent most of her life studying Afghan culture.

Recently honored as archivist of the year, Dupree was quoted in 2009 by the Global Post commenting on the U.S. Military and diplomatic approach in Afghanistan. “They make strategies for people who they don’t talk to... They sit behind the fortress with razor wire walls... They don’t seem to realize the strategy has to be about the people,” Dupree said from her home in Kabul.

Last November, Canadian Journalist Sally Armstong’s To the Women of Afghanistan made an outright call for Afghanistan women to push for rights.

Women of Afghanistan, it is time to go to the barricades.

Now is the hour to claim your rights. Negotiations are under way in earnest; the Taliban are at the table, so are the warlords and bandits, tribal elders and the president. There’s not a woman in sight. Yet everyone knows you are the ones who can yank Afghanistan into the 21st century.

You’ve been denied everything from human rights and jobs to health care and education. You refer to your illiteracy as being blind because as one woman said, “I couldn’t read so I couldn’t see what was going on.”

Education of children in Afghanistan has been vehemently disrupted by the war as well as Taliban violence. According to It Takes a Village to Raise a School, published last September, New York University Professor Dana Burde cited a CARE report that shows community-based schools are less terrorized than the 1,000 schools bombed since 2006 that have left less than one percent of Afghan girls in some southern provinces in school and active education. Suicide bombers target girl's schools more often.

In December, National Geographic’s Afghan Women posed the questions: “Why do husbands, fathers, brothers-in-law, even mothers-in-law brutalize the women in their families? Are these violent acts the consequence of a traditional society suddenly, after years of isolation and so much war, being hurled into the 21st century?”

BIG IDEAS: War. What is it Good For?

Kavita Ramdas and Isabel Allende /
Credit S. Smith Patrick

While perusing Jezebel recently, I was completely annoyed to read about a conservative pundit who was bemoaning the “feminization” of the Medal of Honor in the U.S. military. Bryan Fischer laments,

“When we think of heroism in battle, we used to think of our boys storming the beaches of Normandy under withering fire, climbing the cliffs of Pointe du Hoc while enemy soldiers fired straight down on them, and tossing grenades into pill boxes to take out gun emplacements. That kind of heroism has apparently become passé when it comes to awarding the Medal of Honor. We now award it only for preventing casualties, not for inflicting them. So the question is this: when are we going to start awarding the Medal of Honor once again for soldiers who kill people and break things so our families can sleep safely at night?”

(Emphasis mine.) Normally I would dismiss this kind of commentary for what it is: inflammatory and irrelevant...

Resiliency, Congo, and Rape As a Weapon of War

Last week in London’s Tate Modern, I was just as enthralled with their collection as always, but it was Magda Cordell’s Figure (Woman) pictured here, that I kept returning to because the plaque beside the painting shared that although her work was originally seen as a “break with traditional representations of women,” more recently, it has been regarded by critics as “images of heroic femininity with the distortions signifying the resilience of the human body against injury and change.”

Those last words have run through my head many times this week as I heard radio reports and read CNN and BBC articles reporting “allegations of rape as a weapon of war” in the Congo and the UN’s and major politicians, hopefully, mounting response. These women and children are resiliency. Their bodies and beings have been pushed far past that word’s very definition.

According to Feminist News, on August 13, Margot Wallstrom the UN’s Special Representative of the Secretary-General on Sexual Violence in Conflict, stressed in an interview with reporters that sexual violence during war is, “one of the greatest security risks of our time,” and she cited it “no more acceptable nor inevitable than committing mass murder.”

That same day Wartime Rape No More Inevitable, Acceptable than Mass Murder, appeared on CNN.com, and the article quotes Letitia Anderson, women’s rights specialist with the UN’s Action Against Sexual Violence in Conflict initiative as sharing, “Rape is being used by armed groups to reignite flames of conflict and to terrorize and humiliate communities in Africa.”