'No Advantage': Australia takes a humanitarian step backwards

This article was originally written for the International Political Forum, read the article here.

The Federal Government of Australia has announced changes to its policies that will see Australia take a huge leap backwards in the humanity of its processing of refugees and asylum seekers.

Allow me a moment here for honest disbelief and disappointment in the handling of this unnecessarily controversial issue.

The Immigration Minister Chris Bowen announced that asylum seekers that arrive by boat will no longer be detained in Nauru or Manus (PNG) as the the offshore processing facilities have reached their capacity.  Instead, they will be allocated "temporary bridging visas", meaning they will be allowed to live outside detention centers without the right to work or bring their families to Australia.  The bridging visas will allow for welfare and assistance of up to 89% of unemployment benefits ($270) a week, a sum below the Australian poverty line.  [More after the jump]

The policy is eerily similar to the Howard era's draconian Temporary Protection Visas (TPVs) but manages to make matters worse.

Individuals under TPVs were allowed to work and contribute to the community, thus culturally preparing them for the eventual transition to full Australian citizens once their processing was complete.

The policy, quite frankly, is a recipe for disaster.  Introducing potentially thousands of asylum seekers into a community, living in poverty and with no legal way to earn money or improve their standard of living is not only inhumane, it is short sighted and irresponsible.  Charities will be overwhelmed by the demand on their resources, communities can turn into ghettos and by disenfranchising and isolating truly vulnerable individuals, the policy has the potential to become the birthplace of a new underclass.

Asylum seekers and refugees are often eager to work, diligent and dedicated to beginning a new life.  Stripped of their opportunity to do so, where will they turn? How will they properly adapt to their new culture?  Looking internally, why would the community accept them if they don't see them contributing to the community?

There is no doubt that this is a difficult and complex issue with no easy solution.  However, the solution cannot lay in essentially reinvigorating a decade old policy, in flaunting international law and creating inevitable problems for the future of Australia's social fabric.

Michelle Grattan made the following comment, challenging people to come up with better options.

It is easy to find holes in what the government has done this week. But it's another matter to say what policy adjustment would best meet the three criteria of humanity, effectiveness and community acceptability.

I tend to disagree.  Australians (perhaps reluctantly) elected this government to lead the nation, not pander to every whim, ensuring every solution is "acceptable to the community" before it is implemented.  It is their job as leaders and governors of the nation to provide solutions that are in the best interests of the country and its citizens, not simply in the interests of providing short term solutions that may work up until the election date.

Unfortunately however, this isn't how the system seems to work.

The public discussion on this issue has been clouded with political agendas, biased language, emotional manipulation and pure exploitation of fear of the unknown from both sides of the house.  Unfortunately, it seems our very humanity as a responsible nation has been caught in the crossfire.  There is very little public understanding of what will 'stop the boats' - advertisements such as the below are incredibly ineffective.  Where is a potential asylum seeker going to access a computer and the Internet in order to even view the video?  In two months it has had a total of 8.927 views...I think that speaks for itself.

Caption provided: "We're working regionally to stop people smugglers. There's no advantage taking a boat when it's safer, cheaper and just as quick to use orderly migration options." They have got to be kidding. (via)

It is no wonder that Australia is developing a reputation as 'extremely harsh'.

In a time where the nation is attempting to build its reputation in the region and globally through initiatives such as the Australia in the Asian Century White Paper and the seat on the Security Council, this is an embarrassment.  Neighbours such as Indonesia and Malaysia, who deal with much larger numbers, are hardly likely to be impressed - or understanding.

The unfortunate result is that this issue has become unnecessarily politicised and used as a manipulator of the public sentiment by both parties.  Simplistic statements such as "stop the boats" dehumanise individuals and create a political football that completely distorts the true nature of the discussion. 'The conversation has been poisoned' suggests Professor Burnside, and that poison is what feeds the inexorable decent in this debate.

Almost everything that has happened in refugee policy over the past 11 years has been informed and supported by dishonest rhetoric. Specifically, calling boat people “illegals” and “queue-jumpers” is not only false, it is calculated to prejudice the public against a tiny group of weak, vulnerable people who deserve our help, not our hatred. (via)

In the grand scheme of things, these traumatised men, women and children are less than 10% of our annual migration intake and are just looking for a new, peaceful place to call home.

I doubt that they expected that when they eventually arrived in Australia they would be treated worse than our criminals.

Budget implications should be enough to convince your average Australian that there is a better solution.  Detention onshore costs around $150, 000 per person, per year and offshore costs about $500, 000 per person, per year.  Surely, there are better options.

For a fantastic article that looks at a possible alternative, check out Professor Julian Burnside's thoughts.  There are many other humane solutions out there

Lastly, for those who claim that these initiatives stop the boat, Professor James Hathaway (an expert on international refugee law) states:

The whole people-smuggling problem is a false issue. We created the market for human smuggling. If asylum seekers could lawfully come to Australia and make a refugee claim without the need of sneaking in by boat, they would do it.  But we make it illegal and create the market that smugglers thrive on.

We are extremely lucky to live in Australia and call this land home.  Is it too much to show some humanity and share?

Great Speeches…but then what?

Anyone who has been paying even the slightest attention to Australian politics for the last day or so would know about Julia Gillard’s impassioned performance in parliament yesterday, labelling the opposition leader Tony Abbott as sexist and misogynist.

The reaction in the media and social spheres have been interesting indeed, and worth analysing to determine underlying agendas.  The speech has gotten international acclaim and praise from around the Western world.

Firstly, let it be said that there is no doubt that is was a fantastic and riveting monologue.  I love a well delivered speech, and the great leaders of in the past have often been lauded for their ability to rouse audiences and crowds into frenzies with addresses that stir the soul.  This was definitely one such example for Australia – especially given the performance of our parliament generally over the couple of years.

Another part of the reason that the speech was so well received was that the Prime Minister finally spoke about the issue of sexism when she hadn’t really (to my knowledge) publically broached it before, and seemed genuine in doing so. She cuttingly pointed out a number of instances where Tony Abbott made statements that were clearly sexist, highlighting  the entrenched (and quite possibly subconscious) culture of sexism that exists in the highest levels of government.  I believe we live in a relatively patriarchal society and though that is changing, sexism will continue to exist in implicit and explicit forms.  For this to truly shift, the culture must be acknowledged and brought to account; this is what the Prime Minister was doing, and this is to be applauded.

Mama Mia rightfully said:

It was an erudite, honest speech on the sexism that has repeatedly been levelled against her by her opponents, led by Tony Abbott, with language including “ditch the bitch” and “make an honest woman of her”. To miss that is to completely miss the point.

The Prime Minister’s speech had about as much to do with Peter Slipper as a superb double-twist-summersault dive does a diving board. The Slipper case was nothing but a catalyst for a more important debate. It was, frankly, long overdue.

However.

I believe the timing of the speech, the way in which the Prime Minister has conducted herself since the Question Time session and the overt way in which she framed the debate was a cunning political move indeed.

Why? Well who, in all the hullabaloo, is paying attention to the now resigned Peter Slipper? Where did that conversation go?  I don’t necessarily think it was fair of most of the mainstream media to blast the PM as they did, however I do think they were right in pointing out that this was a brilliant political pivot on behalf of the PM and Labour.

As with all things in politics, perhaps it is best to look at the facts.

Yes, a brilliant and inspiring speech was made.  This has been done often in history, often to very powerful results.

The difference in history however, is such speeches are often followed up by some form of action, or a call for action.  Without action or follow up, great speeches turn into riveting…rhetoric.

I am yet to see any “calls for action”. Perhaps I missed the memo.

“Well done” is always better than “Well said”.

***

Sidenote: Call me cynical, but I continue to be frustrated by the reactionary nature of our government.  They say bad times breed good policy…but I don’t know if we are there yet.  Interestingly enough, did you know that Indonesians (by and large) tend to think of our politics as unstable? Weird right…

…but then I guess with “banning live exports after a TV show” and “putting in a rotational US base at Darwin without consultation”…all happening within a few months of each other, one begins to understand why…

***

Sidenote 2: Does the nature of the response to her speech (“a ferocious personal attack”, “aggressive”) suggest that even the response to an impassioned speech is sexist?  If it were a man talking in a similar fashion, would those views still be held so negatively? Hmm…

The Perception of Heroism

Sometimes I wonder what the fine line is between celebrating heroism and punishing or shaming similar behaviour in certain situations.

For example, if a lady running late at night for exercise was abducted, commentary may run along the lines of personal safety and the opinion of “well, she shouldn’t have been running out that late anyway”.

However if say, the same lady aspired to be an athlete and ran at night “so she could train as often as she could, or when others weren’t” people may instead see that as inspirational.

What is the difference?

Another example may be the heroics of civilians in dangerous situations – a non fire fighter running into a burning house to save a child: if he comes out safely with the child, he is often lauded as a hero, whereas if he is injured or puts others in danger, again the commentary will be quite different.

Perhaps our current society’s emphasis on personal and individual heroism is at fault – it makes people believe they need to be the ones who make the difference, the individual who inspires or is the hero, regardless of how that may affect the people around them or the risks that they take in the interim.

Isn’t it almost selfish? To want to be the “hero"?

…or is it simply human nature?  Simply a way of finding meaning for our lives?

On another scale, when does fighting for a cause, such as overthrowing a government (think Arab Spring) go from “crazy” and “putting yourself in undue danger” (because of the likelihood of capture and torture) to becoming “heroic” and acceptable…and “worth it”?

Is it different because it is a cause?

Or is heroism just in the eyes of the society of the day, or the society that matters to you?

So Why?

A comment after I had written this piece did raise a point that I had forgotten to address, and a question that many non-Muslims are probably wondering: Why is there such a response in the first place?

For many living in authoritarian countries, the publication of a piece such as “The Innocence of Muslims” is seen more as a reflection of what the entire government and community believes in that country rather than the words, actions and beliefs of a single individual. Furthermore, it is easier for extreme and radical leaders to twist the actions of an individual and say that it represents “The West”, and usually that also means “America”.

For example, Sheik Hassan Nasrallah (the leader of Hezb Allah) publically stated:

“The ones who should be held accountable and boycotted are those who support and protect the producers, namely the U.S. administration,” Source

Whatever you think of the man and his policies, this is a clear illustration of the leadership using the actions of an individual as representative of the “enemy”.  This is how you will get people like Haji Samar Gul:

…an 80-year-old protester at the Kabul demonstration who said: "We shouted death to America, death to supporters of America, death to slaves of America."

If you’re source of guidance comes from your local leader and he says to you “check out this insulting video, it was made in America, this is what they think of us and how they treat our religion”…well, you can imagine you’d be feeling pretty put out and pretty keen to start shouting.

It still doesn’t excuse violence though, especially not in Australia. This is just symptomatic of a whole other kettle of fish to do with extremism, the leadership within the communities internationally, and the education levels of those on the street. A little more thought required on this issue…

(Thanks for bringing up this point Emile!)

The Innocence of Who?

Update: This post explains a little more of the “Why”… where as the below are more personal thoughts on the matter.

---

Where to begin…

I am sure by now, you have heard about a 13 min film trailer named The Innocence of Muslims that has caused riots, death and violence throughout the world, peaceful Down Under included.

I had been trying to avoid the clip for peace of mind, but finally relented and looked up the video this morning.

Golly.  I couldn’t watch more than 5 minutes.  Yes, it is offensive, but thousands of Muslims are rioting around the world over such a poorly made production?  Have we sunk so low?

Ah, this is clearly not an issue to be belittled.  The film does insult the Prophet Mohammed (Peace and Blessing be Upon Him*) and his followers (and by extension Arabs and Muslims), depicting them as barbarian, savages and really quite Neanderthal…and because we Muslims see the Prophet (PBuH) as the greatest and purest example of a man who ever lived, I can understand why Muslims are insulted by it.

However…

Just because one is insulted does not give one the right to needlessly riot, act violent and kill innocent people.

(and guys, seriously? Getting insulted by a budget film that’s on youtube?  /sigh.  We should have slightly thicker skins).

There are two elements to my frustration here:

1. All the rioting does is further prove and support claims that Muslims are barbaric and backwards.  Yes, we can be insulted, however that does not give us permission to run riot. It makes us seem truly uneducated and ignorant, and makes me embarrassed (Allah Yastur) to call myself a member of the Muslim Ummah**.  How shameful is that?!There are Christian and Jewish based satires on the internet galore, but I don’t remember the last time I saw hordes of angry Jewish or Christian people on the streets.  Why must the Muslim community be the uncivilised one?
2. The second thing is that this shows that Muslims around the world are willing to rise up in anger over a video made by an ignorant and hateful individual, but are not willing to show the same passion and anger towards issues that actually matter and that affect the lives of their fellow Muslims and humans.  Things like:

• The death of hundreds of innocents in Syria and the truly abhorrent acts of the Shabiha (see this and this);
• The millions of asylum seekers around the world that are displaced with no where to go and no place to call home;
• The exploitation of women and children around the world and the disgraceful way in which many are treated in our own Muslim countries;
• The barbaric corruption and torture that occurs again, throughout Muslim nations around the world…

My mother told me as a child to ignore rude people, to brush off insults and to “be the bigger person”.  Those are essentially Islam’s teachings as well – there are many examples of the Prophet (PbuH) being insulted and denigrated, only to have him treat the perpetrators with kindness and mercy.  That is the example that we Muslims are to emulate.  That is what Islam (which comes from the word Salam, meaning PEACE!) is all about.    We are told in the Qura’an:

“Obey not the disbelievers and the hypocrites, and disregard their hurtful talk.” (33:48)

Disregard their hurtful talk!

Did someone miss that line?

If we truly wanted to make our Prophet (PBuH) proud, we would not shame ourselves and our religion in this way.

***

I have to make one thing very clear, so as there is no confusion among Muslims as to what I mean.

Speaking out against the violence is not the same as agreeing with the insult.  Just because I disagree with the violent protests does not mean I have decided to “serve the interests of the West”. 

No.

The world isn’t black and white, and issues are rarely a case of if you are not with us, then you are against us. 

Yes, the video was insulting to the Prophet (PBuH).

But no, this does not give us an excuse to act like uneducated cult-like individuals and wreck havoc.  Why are we, like a weak tempered town buffoon, so quick to anger?

It should instead be a time for us, as Muslims, to live the example of the Prophet (PBuH), to show kindness and understanding in the face of anger and to truly practice the teachings of our peaceful way of life.

"The sad thing is . . . it's a deceptive film, designed to provoke Muslims, which it has unfortunately done. For us to fall into the trap unfortunately shows that we have a long way to go in terms of practising what the prophet taught."  Silma Ihram, The Sydney Morning Herald

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* Whenever Muslims say the name of the Prophet (PBuH), as a sign of respect we say “Peace and Blessings be upon Him” afterwards, which is why you will see (PBuH) after every mention.  Sometimes (SAW) is used, and that is simply the Arabic version

** Ummah is just the Arabic word for “community” or “group of people”, and when we refer to the Muslim people we refer to the “Muslim Ummah”.

Women in the East, Women in the West: Finding the middle ground.

Have you ever had your fundamental beliefs about your role in society challenged?

I never thought it would be so…confusing.

Having recently returned from a four month stint in Sudan, I have been trying to reconcile what I saw and experienced there with my experience growing up in Australia as an Aussie chick.  I think I am still figuring it all out…

I never really considered myself a true victim of the “identity crisis” issues that were said to plague first and second generation migrants that make Australia their home.  I considered myself ‘Straylian through and through, from the way I talked and thought, to my mates and sports of choice (except for cricket…soccer girl all the way).  I loved the fact that I could walk into a pump shop at a mine site in central Queensland as a hijabi-wearing-Sudanese-born gal and instantly relate to the old mates working maintenance because, well, I grew up here. This was my country, these were my people.

I felt comfortable with the choices I had made: my degree and career (mechanical engineer, pretty butch), my sport (boxing: yup, as feminine as they come) and the belief that my gender played no part in the role I was to play in society.  My mantra was pretty much “well if the boys can do it, I can do it too”.  My father was naturally horrified, but hid it well and mostly accepted that was who I had become.

Boy, was I in for a treat when I got to Sudan.

My first month was…interesting.  Not because of the heat, or the conditions or the lack of system…but because of the cultural expectations that were placed on me that I just wasn’t accustomed to.  I understood and accepted the bare bones of it all (after all, my parents brought me up as a Sudanese woman), but what frustrated me was the clear discrepancy between the roles of men and women and the unwritten rules that I was expected to adhere to.

Sport was a big one – my grandmother couldn’t understand why I wanted to train on the local track, competed with my uncle in pushups or was so interested in exercise.   It wasn’t even the obviously masculine things that were different: Apparently the way I walked, sat, talked, laughed…the issues I wanted to debate (politics isn’t for women!) and the interests that I had were all unfeminine and undesirable in a respectable Sudanese woman. 

I used to joke to my aunt: “Someone should write a rule book on “How to live life as a Sudanese woman” so I don’t keep putting my foot in it and doing the wrong thing”

She would just laugh.  “This is how it is here…”

At first, I found it funny.   I loved being the odd one out, flying in the face of what was acceptable, just being me.  Then it began to frustrate me.  Why was I being judged on things that had nothing to do with my true character? Why weren’t my cousins fighting for their rights as women!

It isn’t as if my cousins were “oppressed”.  Hardly.  My cousins are all studying or working and my aunts all have higher degrees.  Their English is great and they are all well educated and well read.  In fact, one aunt is running one of the biggest businesses in Sudan!  So the opportunity for women to do things is there. Yet… I still couldn’t understand how the women were living with such cultural restrictions.

My cousin shed some light on her perspective one night and said something that I had never considered before.

“It is so cool that you are travelling and doing all this stuff and seeing the world Yassmina, but that is your world.  You have to accept what we have accepted that this is our world and we have to operate in it.  It’s not as bad as you think! We know what we have to do and the role we have to play to be a good woman, a good wife, a good Sudanese and a good Muslim, so we do that.  We don’t want to make our lives harder by looking for things that we don’t really need…”

My aunt echoed a similar sentiment.  “You might look at me and say woah, she has a degree but she is sitting at home taking care of the house, how oppressed is she!  But I love doing this! I love taking care of the house, cooking and being there for my family, and many others do as well.  I work [she has a teaching job], but I work hours that will suit the family because at the end of the day, the family is most important.  You might disagree Yassmina, but the woman is better suited to bringing up a family; you can’t have a home without a mother…and I am happy to fill that role”.

Hold up! I thought.  Yes, there were some societal inequalities that women had issues with and were wanting to have resolved…but by and large they were happy with the role they were playing in life? They **wanted** to be caregivers and homemakers? Wait…does this mean our entire definition of success differs? Huh? Didn’t they want to be liberated?

Yikes.  Now I was confused and I began to wonder…

Maybe there is some validity in the way my family see the role of a woman. Maybe it is too crazy for me to expect a man to have an equal share in the housework. Maybe, as a woman, I have to think about my role as a procreator and a homemaker as just as, if not more important, than my career…

If you know me at all, you would know those thoughts are truly at odds with how I tend to see the world.

There is another aspect to it too, one that I haven’t talked about here, and that is how the women see it as their Islamic duty to be the caregivers and the homemakers.  This was harder for me to deal with, because I don’t have the scholarly Islamic knowledge to confidently refute what they were saying.

So I reached a point where I was at a loss.

Do I forget about everything I saw and learnt in Sudan and continue living life the way I had been in Australia, with gender not being a factor in my decisions because “that’s how I grew up”? 

Or, do I follow the path described by my cultural background, where all my decisions are largely based on gender and gender roles… because that is “where I am from?”

I had – and sometimes still have – difficulty reconciling what I grew up with and what my background encourages. The thing is, I think the expected role of a Sudanese woman in society is at odds with the expected role as an Australian woman in society.

How does one deal with that?

***

I guess for me, I think I am beginning to realise that the idea that “women can have it all” is fair enough, but perhaps for me should be amended to “women can have whatever they want”.  If they want the house and kids that’s great, and if they want the career that is within their rights as well.  Having it all at the same time though… that might be a little more difficult.

I don’t have a concrete answer to my mental dilemma just yet. All I do know is that I feel there needs to be a middle ground, and that is the one that I choose to take, inshallah. A path that takes into account that I am a woman, but that doesn’t limit my choices, it informs them.

If there is one thing I took away from the trip, it is this: It is important, as a woman, to recognise that if (and inshallah when) you choose to have a family, the role as a mother is invaluable and cannot be substituted… and that gender does play a factor in the family dynamic, whether we like it or not.

***

How it will all play out and how much will I take from that lesson? I guess only time will tell…

What about you? How do you see the role of women in society? Have you ever had your views so challenged?

***

Spots of Substance: 22nd July 2012

  How was your week? I learnt a whole bunch of new things about motorsport journalism, fell flat on my rear at the first time ice skating for nearly a decade…and began Ramadaan.  I also spent a lot of time online and here are some particularly interesting things I came across!

(after you check out the links, of course :P)

Striking truths. A new picture with an inspirational saying (like the above) every day…

So what is Ramadaan exactly? Glad you asked: Ramadaan guide for non-Muslims

Why smart people are dumb via The New Yorker

Perhaps our most dangerous bias is that we naturally assume that everyone else is more susceptible to thinking errors, a tendency known as the “bias blind spot.” This “meta-bias” is rooted in our ability to spot systematic mistakes in the decisions of others—we excel at noticing the flaws of friends—and inability to spot those same mistakes in ourselves.

How much money do you need to be happy? What is your number? An interesting post on money, happiness, indulgence and sharing…

But what about individuals who are notorious for their struggles with sharing? Surely the emotional benefits of giving couldn’t possibly apply to very young children, who cling to their possessions as though their lives depended on it. To find out, we teamed up with the developmental psychologist Kiley Hamlin and gave toddlers the baby-equivalent of gold: goldfish crackers. Judging from their beaming faces, they were pretty happy about this windfall. But something made them even happier. They were happiest of allwhen giving some of their treats away to their new friend, a puppet named Monkey. Monkey puppets aside, the lesson is clear: maximizing our happiness is not about maximizing our goldfish. To be clear, having more goldfish (or more gold) doesn’t decrease our happiness — those first few crackers may provide a genuine burst of delight. But rather than focusing on how much we’ve got in our bowl, we should think more carefully about what we do with what we’ve got — which might mean indulging less, and may even mean giving others the opportunity to indulge instead.

Omar Offendum – A Syrian American rapper, using his gift to try bring voice to the uprisings in Syria, muses at The Rolling Stone.

Owen Jones: On Islamophobia in Europe

In France – where recently 42 per cent polled for Le Monde believed that the presence of Muslims was a "threat" to their national identity – a record number voted for the anti-Muslim National Front in April's presidential elections. Denmark's third largest party is the People's Party, which rails against "Islamisation" and demands the end of all non-Western immigration. The anti-Muslim Vlaams Belang flourishes in Flemish Belgium. But those who take a stand against Islamophobia are often demanded to qualify it with a condemnation of extremism. When is this ever asked of other stands against prejudice?

How do you deal with feelings of intellectual inadequacy? “I am not as smart as I thought I was…”

Epilogue: The Future of Print, a beautiful video

 4 Lessons in Creativity from John Cleese! Brilliant, truly brilliant.  It is similar to what he says in the speech below in 1991…

What can we do differently?

الجمل بيمشي و الكلب بيمبح.... The camel walks on and the dogs keep barking...

It is one of my father's favourite Sudanese sayings.  He says it to us all the time, whenever we are up against people telling us what we are doing is wrong, or "barking" at us to stop.

Stay on your path and just keep walking, he says to us, because if the camel stops and tries to reason with the dogs, it's over.

#SudanRevolts

***

So, we have entered the second week of protests in Sudan.

Things are spreading slowly, but I think I have only just begun to realise what an enormous mission we have embarked on.  It doesn't make it any less worthwhile, on the contrary,  it makes me realise how much more seriously it needs to be taken.

We -- the generation pushing for this change -- haven't seen a revolution in our lifetimes.  The last time anything changed was a good score and three years ago, so we are new to this whole situation. We've seen change in our neighbours, and we want that for ourselves as well -- I mean, why shouldn't Sudan be free and fair?

I do think something is desperately wrong in this country, and I do think things have to change. However, I think it is folly not to learn from what is happening around us and what has happened in the past.

Things have been bad before: How did they change and why didn't the change stick?

I often wonder how and why authorities in places such as Sudan get away with so much, when that doesn't happen to the same extent elsewhere around the world.  It isn't because the Sudanese people are inherently different?  I would ask myself.

No, it isn't.  One of the reasons is because there is zero accountability.

Technically, Sudan is a democracy: There were elections in 2010 where the current government was brought into power.  Why! people ask, did the public vote for the status quo?!

Well firstly one must ask, how many voted?  Something like only 9 million people registered for the voting, out of the what, 43 million inhabitants? 20% of the population. Which meant that the 73% winning margin amounted to about 14% of the actual population.  Not decisive win by a long shot, but hey, Jimmy Carter said it was recognisable.

So, the process was there for people to make change.  Why didn't they take up that opportunity?? Why didn't more people register? For a variety of reasons, one of which was a despair that their vote would amount for nothing. By not registering and voting, it became a self fulfilling prophecy.

The other main reason though, I personally think, is because there was no alternative...but that is a blog post for another time.

So, people believe their vote would amount to nothing. Why? Perhaps because they thought the votes would be doctored.  Why would they let their rulers get away with that?

Well, who would stop them?

When you grow used to an oppressive regime, their omniscience becomes larger than life and the fear itself is enough to keep you from doing anything. That, and of course the actual repercussions that do occur, because the fear isn't based on fantasy...

Ah, the crux of the issue. There is noone to hold the authority accountable.  The international community can't seem to, it legitimised them! The reason outside governments do things for the people is because they know the people can remove them if they are unhappy; the people hold them accountable! Here, that is not the case...yet.

This has to change if there is to be any lasting progress.  

The question is, how do you make that happen?

If I knew, I wouldn't be here in front of a screen asking you that question.

***

Yes, it is strange for me to harp on about this idea of the votes and democracy when there are ***things happening on the street!!!*** however I think it is important for some of us to take a step back and see the big picture.  People on the street is but one part of a puzzle in rebuilding a community.  The rest of the recipe includes a large scoop of organisation, a few dollops of realism, two cups of long term strategy and faith; let that simmer in a pot of experience and lessons from the past and we will see how it turns out.  

 I knew my grandmother's cooking lessons would be useful...

Picking my battles.

The past couple of days have been interesting indeed. Having watched the rise of the Arab spring through TV sets from the beginning of last year, I had always lamented "not being there" and getting involved.  The thought of history being made in "my" part of the world while I was in another country simply watching frustrated me -- I itched to do something.  

It is fortunate (or ironic) then that in my last few weeks in Sudan, people have taken to the streets responding to the recent hikes in costs.  What started as small scale protests in the University of Khartoum (by mostly women students actually) has now spread throughout the main city...

http://youtu.be/4k7jHObBQds

(Updates can be found on twitter under the #SudanRevolts hashtag or here)

Here is my chance! I thought immediately, when I started to hear the news and the rumblings on the streets...

Here is my opportunity to be a part of something that could actually make a tangible difference.

Yeh. I (to the dismay of family and friends) am the kind of person who walks toward a fight rather than away from it, so I can find out what is going on and see if I can help. Like a moth to the fire, I was drawn towards the drama, the intoxicating call for change that I had so desperately sought during my time here.

I posted on facebook, consulted with family, starting mentally critically analysing what was going on, glued to my phone and laptop with innumerable twitter/facebook/google reader/blog tabs open, trying to figure out what was happening and where things needed to be done...

I had a number of friends and family members give me various pieces of advice over the last few days; some said to "stay sharp, courageous and keep writing/getting involved", some cautioned me to stay safe, and a couple (some of whom had lived in developing countries) suggested that I get the hell out and pick my battles wisely.

...and at about Fajr this morning (around sunrise), after I had spent hours crafting Arabic posts to add to the Girifna (rough translation: "We are disgusted/We have had enough") facebook site, the main opposition to the ruling NCP, something occurred to me.  Perhaps this was one of those cases where I should listen to the sage advice of those around me.  

Reading the posts and comments and seeing the videos, it is clear that there is a lack of real direction, and that people needed organisation and support from a long term strategy point of view... but am I the best placed person to provide that?  I guess the fact that it takes me half an hour to read a long post in Arabic (my proficiency in proper Arabic still requires some practice) when these were protests and discussions being conducted in Arabic was one of the indicators that perhaps not.

Moreover, I am going home rather soon...and I want to be able to actually leave the country.  If I get involved in activities that are likely to get me arrested or detained and I don't have the support of a party or group, it is unlikely I would find my way out easily and if I did, coming back into the country safely would be nigh impossible.

The thing that did encourage me though was that there were people talking about the very ideas I was suggesting; organising protests, making sure things weren't destroyed etc.  What is still missing is the talk of an alternative and a long term strategy... but who is going to trust a random newcomer talking about long term strategy?

Even to me that sounds suspicious: with everyone looking over their shoulder for the NISS (the national security forces), I can understand why organisers didn't jump at the opportunity to bring me into the fold.

This doesn't mean that I am giving up (ugh, what a negatively loaded phrase), I think this is a case of picking my battles.  Perhaps what I can do is write rather than march recklessly, raising awareness for those outside the loop, perhaps an information relay rather than an organiser.  It doesn't seem like much, and it is galling for me to be here while all this is happening and not out on the street making my voice heard... but it is a case of recognising that there are more effective ways of making my voice heard and contributing to the conversation.

Like the engineer that I am, I think I will focus on efficiency rather than pure brute force: trying to add to the conversation intelligently rather than just add noise, provide a different perspective and different level of analysis and see if perhaps there are others there that are interesting looking at how sustainable, long term change can be established from the current happenings.

It is the responsibility of the educated to translate the cries of the people into something more than just destruction and the statement of frustration -- otherwise money, livelihood and eventually lives will be lost in vain.   

If I go out on the street, I am just one more dispensable Sudanese life to the NISS.

After all, as a few friends said: I'm probably more useful alive than missing, or dead.

Some links:

Sudan inches closer to an Arab Spring (apparently)

Sudan Revolts Twitter Feed

SudanRevolts Facebook Link

The Aljazeera Stream

The Official Girifna Blog

SudanRevolts in Pictures

Mimz -- A great Sudanese blogger with interesting analysis

#SudanRevolts...

So, the Sudanese people have decided to take to the streets. Today, the "Duststorm Friday" movement started (Kataha AlJum3a in Arabic) and large numbers of protesters took to the streets.  Today, unlike the past week, people became destructive, people are starting to get heated and things are getting a little more dangerous.

Protests have reached the main streets of Khartoum (the capital), Bahri and surrounding areas and suburbs.

What is missing from these protests though, is coherence and direction.

At the moment, the Sudanese people are taking to the streets, why?

Because things are expensive. 

The official figure for inflation is something like 30.4% monthly.  That is the official figure. (Source)

A few days ago, they raised the exchange rate from 2.8 SDG to a little over 4 SDG.

How on earth are people supposed to live their lives (and run businesses!) with that type of uncertainty? The cost of my trip to uni essentially doubled in a day.

So you can understand the frustration of the people.  Hell, I am frustrated and I am not working or supporting a family here.

However, I am not sure people are going about the protests in the more effective way.  Why?

1. There are no demands.  If you look at the pictures of protesters, they are just storming streets, yelling for "change of authority" and burning things.  There are no placards, no lists of criteria, no indication of what people actually want.

2. There is no respect for property.  For actual regime change (if that is what is desired), there has to be a critical mass of people who want things to change.  You are not going to win over the general population if you are burning their buses and clogging up their roads! Destructive behaviour is the worst kind of behaviour as it gives the authorities the excuse to arrest you and criminalise you on a legal basis -- because what is being done is criminal.  What people should be doing is peacefully protesting, demanding their rights and voicing their opinions; that way noone has the legal right to touch them.

3. There doesn't seem to be a strategic outlook towards the future.  When I spent time talking to people (before the protests) about why they didn't want change, their simple answer was because they couldn't see an alternative.  "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't" they said.  That still hasn't changed -- people are asking for a regime change but they haven't given an alternative.

Furthermore, the Sudanese have the example of Egypt to learn from - overthrowing your president is one thing, but that doesn't mean you have changed the system.  For systematic change, things need to be planned, organised, strategically thought through...and none of that is happening.

For these reasons (and more, but I want to keep this succinct), I am not sure what the benefit of the protests is going to be.  Yes, the Sudanese are a revolutionary people -- they have had at least two coups since independence -- however, that does not mean they are ready or that this will be a simple and easy matter.  To be honest, I already am hearing all sorts of stories; students from my cousins' universities gone missing (picked up by the army/security forces and taken to who-knows-where), killings (though unconfirmed) and beating of protesters; the general pandemonium in cases like these.  What is sad though is that all this may happen in vain, if not done properly.

However, how does one go about organising something as amorphous as this? Already the groups exist, and clearly this is the domain of the of political parties in universities and such... so providing them direction or suggestions may be the way to go.  Perusing (read: obsessing over) the Facebook and Twitter feeds gives me some hope, but all the talk of strategy and planning doesn't seem to reach the people making the announcements and decisions.

It all seems very reactionary at the moment, when it should be proactive and strategic.

...and I am not yet certain what I can do to help, but hell, that's not going to stop me at least trying to somehow be constructive.

Do we have a role to play?

It is not an unfamiliar story; born in a developing country and having the fortune of being brought up in a country with opportunities. It is not an unfamiliar story at all, but somehow I find myself in unfamiliar territory.

Perhaps this is an issue that is best suited for quite discussion around a coffee table with trusted confidantes, perhaps it isn't a lament suitable for the public arena.  If it is an issue that is affecting *me* so profoundly though, who is to say there aren't others with a similar dilemma that I can learn from?

I am an Australian, through and through and proud of that fact.  I travel with the Aussie passport, I have an Aussie accent, when I am asked where I am from (in my brown skinned & hijabed attire), I say that I am an Australian.

The fact that I was born in Sudan was always just a part of my background story, something that added flavour to my introduction.  Yes, it meant I ate different foods at home and I had a slightly "exotic" home culture and cultural expectations, but it was never really something that affected how I saw myself interacting with the world.  I was Australian with mixed Sudanese heritage, I would say.

Spending some time in Sudan though, has brought up questions that I never thought I would ask myself.  

The country is in an extremely difficult position, for a number of reasons (that requires its own analysis, perhaps when I am at a different address).  As someone who has always been passionate about social change, human rights and the like, it is no longer something I can ignore, no longer something that is just a part of where I come from.  I used to visit quite frequently with my parents as a child and the trips would be all *visits, nostalgia, happiness, excitement, family*. As you get older though, you begin to see the cracks...especially when the cracks are widening.

So it became a question of wanting to do something.

Something, anything.

From the socio-economic perspective, I could see where work could be done.  Working with the grassroots community, helping with education, food, orphans, teaching....achievable in discrete amounts, bit by bit...

Then cames the realisation that this may not be enough.  No amount of aid or number of mobile libraries is going to fill a gap that the government should be filling. So I cast the net wider...

...and realise that there is, maybe, a hope for change.  All the neighbouring countries rose up right? Why can't Sudan be the same?  That is the question I hear asked... by the young, the bloodthirsty, the hungry and desperate.

The more seasoned critics reason with experience:

We've been here before and worse, they say...

What is the alternative? they ask...

Better the devil you know then the devil you don't, they counter...

This one is satisfied. He's "shab3an" (ate until he was full). If anyone new comes, they will come hungry and do it all again....

So one sees all this and thinks well maybe, maybe there is a way I can play a part in this. The critics are right, there needs to be an alternative? Does an alternative exist? Do those who are rising up and protesting have a plan? Perhaps I can offer some semblance of support or control or aid...

I ask these questions because of desperation to help, somehow.

I think maybe I can play a part, somehow -- 

Then comes the questions -- the questions on the back burner, the questions that people ask:

Well who are you to get involved?

Do you even really consider yourself Sudanese?

Who do you think you are?

Why should we listen to you?

Do you know what we have been living through?

Are you just bringing in their ideas??

Can you even speak the language properly?

...and I begin to doubt.

But in such a situation, there is no room for doubt.

All that is left is the question:

Does the fact that I grew up in another country, and consider myself an Australian, exclude me from fighting the fight in the country of my birth? What right do I have, does it make me less legitimate a voice in this battle? If I choose to join this fight as part of the Sudanese sha3b (people), does that mean I forsake my "Australian identity"? 

...or is it a case of deciding for myself what my identity is and what "fights I choose to fight?"

I think that perhaps may be my answer, but that in itself, isn't an easy thing to do...

The older I get, the less sure I am of where things stand in the world and the more I realise it is all shades of grey.  

What do you think?

South Sudan: Thoughts on the Secession

On the 9th of July 2011, a new country joined the ranks of statehood: South Sudan. On the 9th of July 2011, Sudan, the largest nation in Africa, was split asunder...

On the 9th of July 2011, a people had to begin to redefine their identity, a difficult process indeed.

***

For more information on the history of South Sudan and the war that led to the secession, check out these wiki links (don't hate on authenticity, I find wiki quite informative =D)

History of South Sudan - Second Sudanese Civil War (Longest civil war in Africa, started in 1983 and was essentially resolved by the secession)

I will pre-empt this article by saying that these are mostly personal lamentings and feelings on the secession rather than a political analysis and reflection of the view of the general populace's.

To be honest, when it happened I was in Australia in the midst of exams, organising a camp and generally being busy, so the enormity of the event didn't quite register. However, being in (North) Sudan has given me ample time to realise the extent of the consequences, so I thought I would try to organise my thoughts about the situation.

***

First of all, one doesn't realise until after the fact: the feeling of losing an entire chunk of your country is unlike anything I can acutely describe. Perhaps something akin to waking up one day and realising half your extended family has changed their last name.  I can't even draw a rough map of Sudan anymore as I am not sure what the border looks like.

It is reported that over 98% of voters (as it was a referendum) voted yes for the secession. However, what is often omitted is that only Southerners voted.  This is interesting in itself; the first questions I asked upon my arrival were what Northerners thought of the situation, and how the secession had effected life in the Sudan.  

Interesting, overwhelmingly, people were upset.

Upset that they hadn't been asked,

upset that their country had split into pieces,

upset that the nation no longer had petrol , upset that because Sudan no longer had petrol, the dollar had more than doubled,

upset that the crazy increase in the dollar has caused inflation to balloon out of control,

upset now that life is just so difficult to lead...

Overwhelmingly, most people that I talked to from the North didn't think the secession was a good thing for the nation.

Some expressed frustration at the administration, asking what kind of leader lets part of his country mutiny?  What leader watches over his country being split apart?

Interesting, I thought.

I could understand why. Although I haven't really lived in my country of origin for long, it had been strange to know people, one minute as your fellow country man, the next as merely your neighbour...

I considered this information, but then decided to ask another host of questions (as one does in times of curiosity and investigation...)

I asked Northerners how many South Sudanese people did they consider friends?

How many South Sudanese people did they invite to their homes?

How many South Sudanese people do they know personally??

Would they let their child marry a South Sudanese person?

Are our cultures and traditions similar?

The answers to those questions are why I think the secession was possibly for the best.

I was told the following:

Oh, I don't know any Southerners personally...

Oh, we've never had any in our house (apart from maybe a maid)...

I would never let my son or daughter marry a Southerner!

Why?

Well, their culture is so different! They have different traditions! They have different languages! As a relative duly informed me, they are very violent people so who knows what kind of spouse they could be and the things they would do...

I was shocked.

Truly, I was.

Firstly, because I couldn't believe the level of deeply entrenched racism that existed in the community towards Southerners (but that is a whole other post).  Secondly, I could see very similar parallels between the situation in Australia with the Indigenous population and Anglo Australia, where two peoples inhabit the same land but with extremely different cultures and drastically different levels of achievement.

I don't think  it is fair on Northern Sudanese to expect Southerners to live under the same administration for the sake of history or nostalgia.

What are the origins of the borderlines anyway? They are relics of colonial times, when the British (among others) came and split the continent up into countries, drawing straight lines through tribal lines and united groups that had nothing in common.  Apart from the economic benefit (for the Northerners!), what benefit is there to staying a single country?

Yes it is awful.

Yes, it hurts your heart.

At the end of the day though, don't the Southerners deserve a chance at making their own history?

It is a unique opportunity indeed, and I can see why every political powerhouse (read USA, China and Israel among others) wants to make their mark on the nation felt early.

Putting aside issues of religious differences and politics and how it effects the self esteem or agenda of (North) Sudan, I think the secession of South Sudan is perhaps a first step for the continent in rediscovering or recreating its own, post colonial identity.  There are still many battles to be fought (the border isn't even fully determined) but it is an opportunity that I hope isn't squandered.

I know that as a Northerner, my opinion, presence or aid in the area won't be welcomed.  Nonetheless, I do hope and pray with all my heart that we Horn-of-Africans can put aside the rampant personal-greed-disguised-as-nationalistic-fervour and give South Sudan the opportunity to develop as a nation.

This is history in the making. Let's not make this nation building experiment a case study in the chapter named "Never-to-be-repeated..."

***

What do you think? Do you have any thoughts on the secession or experience in the situation?

South Sudanese Blogs for some light reading:

Paanluelwell

SouthSudanInfo

Ruya: This seems quite interesting, haven't read much but will definitely follow the work of this organisation...

JohnAkec: A South Sudanese academic

SouthSudanNation: A bulletin board of sorts