Thursday, 5 December 2013

Citizens: Democracy in the 21st Century

2013 has hosted protests in Ukraine, Brazil, Bulgaria, Turkey, Egypt. The list will grow in 2014. Why are protests so widespread, and so global? Following my blog on the New Citizens Movement, it is our duty as citizens to react – to show approval and to show dissent. With only the vote as our weapon, we are weak. The government chooses when to hold elections, and it ultimately chooses who is eligible to run for office. This may seem somewhat limiting for the electorate, yet citizens are expected to trust (and love) the state. 

However, in the 21st century, citizens are exploring their democratic role. Across the world, a new movement of citizenship grows as the language of rights proliferates the constitutions and embeds itself in laws. 21st century media and technology have almost guaranteed communication between citizens within and beyond their own state. The 'Arab Spring' demonstrates the significance of democracy and civil and political rights to the 21st century citizen.

As liberal democracies argue today in closed-circuit courtrooms for avant-garde interpretations of human rights legislation, the majority of the world's population does not enjoy even the most basic protections. Human rights law engages in a process of deconstructing traditional and out-dated notions of social and political status, and advocates for the protection of the individual. There are some limitations on rights, whereby an personal freedoms can be restricted based on “public interest”, “national security”, etc. If a person’s behaviour does not threaten anyone else, there can be no legitimate restriction.

Of course, democracy is not the only form of governance, just as the idea of human rights is not inevitable or divine. They are products of a human philosophy. ‘Human rights’ is merely a conception of the citizens’ relationship to government. In the UK and Ireland, rights have attained legal status. Despite legally-binding international human rights treaties, the politics of diplomacy prevent any practicable action to enforce fundamental liberties in many states in the 21st century.

Citizens in democratic states have a duty to make demands of their governments, but ironically they must do so within the terms set by the government; they can protest only as much as the government permits them to do so. Thus, we see the significance of the doctrine of national security to quell “subversive” behaviour, labelling as terrorism that which is not in the ‘interests’ of the state. In the context of civil liberties, the legal definitions of these terms is all-important.

Without challenge, state power is absolute. Democratic citizens are reacting to this, using the 21st century technology to their advantage.

Citizens: The New Citizens Movement of China


Xu Zhiyong is on trial in China for public disorder after assembling a protest relating to the Chinese constitution and transparency in government. He is a founder member of the New Citizens Movement, which is a network of activists campaigning on various social and legal issues, notably challenging Communist party politicians to declare their assets. Chinese authorities have targeted the New Citizens Movement dissidents with public order legislation.

Why are these individuals putting themselves at risk to challenge the Chinese government? What have they to gain; and, importantly, is it worth it?

The power of citizenship is an electoral power. The franchisement of the masses is the most important demonstration of citizen power in the history of democracy. Once elections take place, elected representatives in the Executive and Parliament have the power to govern. Given this inherited sovereignty, it is then the citizens’ role to monitor governance.

The only tangible power maintained by the citizens is retrospective. The default position is that the government’s power is absolute until challenged; the state has an automatic mandate to govern as it sees fit. Given that most democratic governments act within the protection of the law – which the government both interprets and implements – it is only in retrospect that its decisions can be challenged and deemed unlawful. Without the capacity to challenge, citizens are mere subjects of power. Democracy depends on the reaction of citizens. It is not merely enough to vote, obey the law, and pay taxes. More is required to balance the democratic structure of power.

The New Citizens Movement of China seeks to challenge the government and is criminalised as a result. Is democracy worth it?

Friday, 1 November 2013

The Human Rights movement: What beyond Hope?

Last month, I met Rebecca Masika from the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) while she was visiting Dublin Front Line Defenders' Seventh Platform. The ordeal to which she has been subjected by paramilitary groups and the resultant stigma affecting her extended family is nothing short of horrifying. As a result of her personal experiences, Mama Masika has dedicated her life to supporting survivors of rape in eastern Congo.

I see her scarred face on a billboard in Blackrock D.A.R.T. station during my daily commute, and hearing her testimonial in person was remarkably touching. It has prompted questions on the role of human rights law in the daily lives of those who suffer the most.

The first sobering point she made was that the DRC is not a country anymore. She believes that what the international community perceives to be the Democratic Republic of Congo is merely an idea. This idea is projected outside of the DRC, but she suggests that no governable entity exists within the ravaged, anarchic territory where she lives.

Second, she described a terrifying moment when paramilitaries asked her whether the white people with whom she was associating (referring to organisations like Front Line Defenders) would come to DRC to help her. Would the white people come when they rape her? When they rape the women in her care? When they kill her? This hostility appears to be rooted in the view of the human rights movement as a direct challenge to the authority of both governments and paramilitary forces alike.

These attitudes provoke consideration of the tangible impact of human rights law on Mama Masika's life.

By definition, human rights law examines the relationship between the citizen and government, and necessarily challenges the authority of the state to address any imbalance. In a democracy, any challenge to the government's authority can be construed as a “threat to national security”. As the source of human rights law's authority is principally international, its effectiveness relies on diplomatic, inter-state pressure. The human rights movement exists at grassroot level, but its legitimacy is far from global. Its credibility is challenged across the world because of the perceived threats to authority.

However, the pro-establishment narrative of “threats” cannot be a definitive one; security is relative to the political priorities of any state. Thus, depending on economic and cultural interests, some states prioritise human rights and others do not.

(Another debate is whether the human rights model – so connected to European liberal democratic values – is actually suitable for global difussion when it blatantly conflicts with widely-held socio-cultural beliefs outside of Europe.)

Peaceful promotion of certain behaviours is enough to give rise to forceful governmental resistance. Frankly, in a system of majoritarian democracy, the state is obliged to oppose such challenges to its authority where they might compromise the will of “the people”. Therefore, it is often difficult for individuals to challenge official decisions in cases where the majority – as represented in mainstream politics – appears to oppose it.

To relate this back to Mama Masika's scenario, it seems practically impossible for rights-based ideals to filter into a lawless, human chaos like the DRC in 2013. Without a functioning government, human rights are impracticable because the protection of human rights depends on a model of citizenship. In the vacuum of statelessness, existing without meaningful citizenship, the law ceases to be significant and human rights are non-existent.

The human rights movement does have legal significance in a European liberal democracy, though – due to conceptions of national sovereignty – the interpretation of those rights will inevitably vary. Human rights have been embedded into these legal systems, but there are many states across the world where this is not the case.

Unfortunately, the current rights-based mechanisms existing in Europe (replete with their many, many flaws) cannot manifest without a foundational infrastructure. As Rebecca Masika suggests, an idea of democratic citizenship is not strong enough; what is needed to protect people from oppressive authority is representative structural stability. Even then, democratic structures will represent only those valued by the mainstream cultural norms, necessitating the discrimination of some in favour of the protection of “valuable”, obedient citizens.

I desperately hope Mama Masika can continue with her humbling, life-saving work. I hope the human rights movement continues to trickle into every possible crevasse long enough to congeal into a sustainable and substantive system of protection. Hopefully then, humans will have the capacity to invoke the protection they have been granted under international law in the 21st century. I hope so.


Sunday, 27 October 2013

Is exclusion necessary for inclusion? 2) Human rights law can modernise legal linguistics

Simply put, citizenship is desirable because it offers protection. To acquire citizenship, one must adhere to mainstream norms, as defined in the law. Those who have extra-normal lifestyles are treated as outside the system and are therefore unprotected. These extra-normal lifestyles are not necessarily chosen, but might be indigenous, traditional, radical, or perhaps simply undesirable.

“Bare life” manifests as a legal existence without citizenship (what Hannah Arendt called “statelessness”). Without legal protection, a category of society can be discriminated against. For this reason, the law is the most important dogmatic authority in the 21st century.

In this way, the process of marginalisation/exclusion serves to contextualise the significance – and the import – of citizenship. Those without the protection of citizenship end up as the homo sacer (a Roman term describing a person who can be legitimately sacrificed; he or she is outside the protection of the law).

Perhaps counter-intuitively, human rights law maintains this system of governance because it necessarily exists within it. Democratic judiciaries adhere to 21st century boundaries of sovereignty – as upheld in international law, which is sponsored by the United Nations. According to this model, the suspension of judicial authority (and therefore the defiance of legal jusridiction) is possible in favour of sovereign, Executive decision-making. This creates Agamben’s so-called “State of Exception”.
  
As human rights law does not directly challenge this system, it is complying with the reproduction of “Bare Life”. However, the law challenges it from within by chipping away at the linguistic limitations of (inherently conservative) dogmatic concepts of identity. The law explores the boundaries of language as it defines and redefines words like “gender”, “marriage”, and “privacy” so as to ensure their meaning is as contemporary as possible.

By using human rights law to modernise legal linguistics, the dogma that upholds Bare Life can be critiqued.

A state's official decision-making must be continuously challenged because language and social norms often change more quickly than the legislative process. Citizens may ask: “Why is this behaviour forbidden?” If the prohibition does not withstand international law's doctrines – “necessary in a democratic society”, “in the public interest”, “in the interests of national security”, etc. – there is no legitimate reason to prohibit that behaviour. The likelihood is that many behaviours prohibited today will not be prohibited forever. For instance, the criminalisation of homosexual acts is now outdated. The legal status of marital rape has altered with evolving views on the equality of the parties to the legal contract of marriage. These 'norms' have changed as our understandings of the behaviour changes.

It is never a question of a behaviour being right or wrong. It is a question of whether we believe a behaviour to be right or wrong now. The law can influence this. Examining our current norms and challenging them according to the Rule of Law is perhaps the best way to combat a Modern paradigm whereby exclusion is necessary for inclusion.

Is exclusion necessary for inclusion? - 1) The person who can control language can control society

The concept of identity is fluid, changing with contemporary politics. As language evolves to unite people – through understandings of ideas like “nationality”, “race”, or “ethnicity” – the idea of ‘Self’ reflects these changes. Identity is not definitive, but is interdependent and inter-relational.

The recent news story about Romany child abduction feeds into this sense of identity: the media constantly questions who belongs in our society and who does not. We typify social categories so as to relate to each other more easily, and we self-identify in opposition to the Other. This Other is, in turn, defined by the Law.

The Law outlines who is worthy of protection. Nominally, modern laws in Europe operate on the basis of a rights-based framework. The European media, however, often portrays a supremacist outlook whereby the victims are largely white, Christian, and ‘Us’. The adoption of the name “Blonde Angel” for an abducted child is a clear manifestation of this perspective.

In Northern Ireland (NI), there is a battle within the law to define where the lines of protection should be drawn. The Appeal Court has stretched the relevant language to include unmarried couples in the list of legitimate adoptive parents in Northern Ireland (in line with English Law and Scots Law). NI Minister of Health, Edwin Poots, has challenged the Appeal Court’s decision and will follow the issue to the UK Supreme Court in defiance of a decision that accepts gay and unmarried parents as legitimate adoptive parents in NI.

The idea of mainstream norms is a product of dogma. The ideal that all humans should behave in a particular way could be construed as moral authoritarianism. Yet, this is how the law’s authority functions. Within this model of government, the Law dictates what we can and cannot do, what we can and cannot say, who we can and cannot be.

Dogma changes through language. Where words evolve, the subtext and context of norms alter. Theoretically, therefore, the person who can control language can control society. The usual mode of control thus far in the 21st century is via the Rule of Law. The law may criminalise attitudes so long as the restrictions are within the accepted bounds of the time. (For example, restrictions on liberty must be “necessary in a democratic society” or “in the public interest”, etc. Of course, these phrases are subject to change according to which judges/systems are interpreting.)

The law serves to maintain a concept of identity – so as to uphold Order - and therefore necessarily propounds a concept of the Other. Giorgio Agamben elaborated on this in the 1990s (Homo Sacer). His theory of “bare life” suggested that the marginalisation of certain groups was inherent to democracy in its present paradigm.

Without a comparator, the projected benefits of maintaining particular norms are not apparent. This comparator is manifested as the Other, who is excluded in law. John Pilger has recently released his latest film, called “Utopia”, which addresses the treatment of aboriginal peoples by the Australian state. The aboriginals were excluded so as to prioritise Australian colonial values and alienate the culture of the native population. This is one of the many historical examples of groups' legitimate exclusion in the law. Jewish citizens in Germany were discriminated legitimately within the laws of 1930s Germany, and Palestinian citizens of Israel have been treated differently under the law more recently, with horrifying consequences.

In this manner, it is arguable that the lifestyle of the Romany people is marginalised legitimately today.

Friday, 6 September 2013

Lessons on Human Authenticity

The UK Parliament’s decision not to support its Prime Minister over Syria represents a moral stand. The ripples of protest have travelled ten years to arrive in the House of Commons, it seems. This is surprising because that pebble in the pond was so large; the Iraq War was hardly met with a silent condonation in the UK’s streets.

Appropriately, the last fortnight has also celebrated the 60th anniversary of the enforcement of the European Convention on Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms (ECHR). We’ve also found ourselves celebrating the life of Nobel Laureate poet, Seamus Heaney. This has prompted an overwhelming analysis of the poet’s imprint on literature and his relationship to his homeland, Northern Ireland. Not only was Heaney a mouthpiece for his own soul’s troubles, but he signalled a sympathetic beacon for human dignity everywhere.

In the early 1950s, the ECHR launched a post-traumatic embrace of individual liberties in the aftermath of fresh human horrors. In 2013, there are new horrors with which to wrestle. It seems that the UK government is slowly coming to terms with its responsibilities to the people of Northern Ireland under the ECHR, though its reticent compliance instils severe doubts as to its commitment to human rights.[1]

The concept of ‘human rights’ was something that Heaney addressed both in speeches and in his poetry. In the context of Northern Ireland, he spoke about discrimination of the “minority citizen” and the “poetic truth [that] change had to take place”.[2] W.B. Yeats had written of the savage ferocity of civil war, of how romantic ideas about what we may deserve as humans can lead to jealous, violent disillusionment:[3]
… We had fed the heart on fantasies, / The heart's grown brutal from the fare; / More substance in our enmities / Than in our love…

Heaney considered humans to be “hunters and gatherers of values”, sharing our earnestness of emotion.[4] He spoke of the “boldness and buoyancy” of these values in the context of human rights treaties.[5] Documents like the ECHR represent for Heaney an international consensus of our collective moral imagination;[6] any breaches thereof are “far outweighed by the historic importance of the global covenant which it represents”.[7]

Former Czech playwright, prisoner and President, Václav Hável, spoke of human rights as a “valid global instrument that holds up a mirror to the misery of this world”.[8] In a similar vein, Heaney used his poetry “to persuade that vulnerable part of our consciousness of its rightness in spite of the evidence of wrongness all around it”. At the root of this activism is wordcraft. The law, too, relies on such semantic “manipulation”. Another writer, Philip K Dick,[9] opined:
If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words.
This encapsulates not only the impact of literature, but also the very function of the law. Of course, the law’s monopoly over words can be used to undemocratic ends. However, the manipulation of words can be used to limit conflict in human relations. Human rights law, as manifested in the ECHR, “contributes… to the maintenance of an equilibrium” between right and wrong, and it could be “seen as a counterweight to the given actuality of the world” (especially given the circumstances of mid-20th century Europe).[10]

In “The Power of the Powerless”, Hável alludes to a decision we share as citizens: whether to ride with the ripples of protest or to wade against the tide of change in favour of the comparable security of conformity. The decision presents itself often as a moral judgment call. To reflect the world’s problems back on itself may reveal a risk that ultimately outweighs an individual’s perceived gains.

However, the perceived gains are as much imagined as they are actual. Imagined gains in 2013 can herald in the actual gains of future generations. The imaginings of Heaney and Hável, and the wordcraft of the ECHR’s drafters, have survived to inspire still today.

Those who deem themselves to be powerless have not yet awoken (or been awakened) to the poetic truth of their role in the state-citizen dynamic – the relationship wherein human rights nestle most comfortably. To paraphrase John Waters, these conforming citizens collude in their own enslavement.[11] They signify “a kind of blind automatism which drives the system… They are both victims of the system and its instruments.”[12]

The only reasonable means to confront that which offends our base human sympathies – our humanity – may be to reject that system. We see it happening today across the world; from Turkey to Egypt to Colombia, and in Romania’s quest for its own model of European democracy.[13] To act otherwise is to “cast… the stones of silence”.[14] In the words of Philip K. Dick:[15]
The authentic human being is one of us who instinctively knows what he should not do, and, in addition, he will balk at doing it. He will refuse to do it, even if this brings down dread consequences to him and to those whom he loves. This, to me, is the ultimately heroic trait of ordinary people; they say no to the tyrant and they calmly take the consequences of this resistance. Their deeds may be small, and almost always unnoticed, unmarked by history. Their names are not remembered, nor did these authentic humans expect their names to be remembered. I see their authenticity in an odd way: not in their willingness to perform great heroic deeds but in their quiet refusals. In essence, they cannot be compelled to be what they are not.
We must strive to honour our humanity, our authenticity.





[3] From “The Stare’s Nest by My Window” (1928) by W.B. Yeats
[14] From “Punishment” by Seamus Heaney in “North”, 1992 (Faber & Faber)

Thursday, 8 November 2012

Riding Roughshod over Due Process

The idea of human rights is as complex today as ever, with new entitlements evolving regularly from live legislation and expanding treaties. Human rights, as portrayed on the international stage, have adopted a proselytising stance whereby western European, liberal nations appear to foster a monopoly on legal rights and wrongs. This popular, yet naïve, conception of the status quo misses the hypocrisy inherent in international law in the 21st century.

Former UK MP, Bernadette Devlin McAliskey from County Tyrone, recently enunciated a useful perspective for those who advocate for civil rights in 2012:
“Our attitude to government, any citizen's attitude to government, is that we have a right and a citizen duty to hold government to account. They are the duty bearers… Why does a government decide to operate by violation of human rights and risk the wrath of human rights agencies? And risk the wrath of being in breach of human rights legislation? Of being brought before this court and that? It's because they know they can.”

The Irish Republic was last month reminded of just one area in which it is failing its citizens. The shameful condition of St. Patrick’s Institution for Young Offenders in Dublin is a reflection on the values of this State. The relatively calm reaction to this despicable and “shocking” report is ludicrous in an era when the Irish Republic claims to adhere so closely to the European Convention of Human Rights.

Another State whose disregard for international human rights norms is well documented is the United Kingdom, which has come under severe scrutiny as a result of its response to the threat of terrorism in Northern Ireland since the 1970s. A plethora of cases in the European Court of Human Rights were taken against the UK and it might have been believed that this epoch of abuse had come to an end with the dawn of comparative domestic peace.

One example of poor civil liberties standards within the UK, that continues to be a thorn in the side of the Westminster authorities, is that of militant Irish Republicanism. A number of individuals currently find themselves detained in prisons in both the Irish Republic and in Northern Ireland. One high profile case is that of Marian Price McGlinchey, which has attracted wide public and political support since her detention in 2011.

Her case is complicated, but hangs on a misplaced document. Having been convicted of the Old Bailey bombing and subsequently released ‘unconditionally’, she is now being detained on the Secretary of State’s authority, which, seemingly, doesn’t exist. To aggravate the complexity of her case, she suffers from rapidly declining health, both mental and physical. To summarise, Marian Price McGlinchey “was released [32 years ago] not on a licence but on a Royal pardon which no Minister has the authority to overturn. Conveniently, the Northern Ireland Office claims to have lost the pardon document, so its terms cannot be checked.

Bernadette Devlin McAliskey is an outspoken member of the ‘Free Marian Price’ campaign. The lack of political movement on this issue is a frightening manifestation of the UK State’s willingness to override basic civic freedoms. Regardless of Marian Price McGlinchey’s past deeds, to imprison her without legal basis is a travesty. If the State is permitted to act as such in her case, it will be permitted to do so again. Her innocence is not at issue here. Rather, what is at issue is the promotion of the rule of law and the protection of fundamental rights for all.

In consideration of human rights abuses across the world, it is empowering to listen to the inspiring words of Bernadette Devlin McAliskey from only a few months ago:
“We must demand and exercise solidarity with all those whose rights are trampled underfoot simply because governments feel strong enough to ride roughshod over due process and international obligation to respect and protect the integrity, dignity and freedom of the human beings they despise, not for anything they may or may not have done, but simply because of who and what they are--or what political overlords believe them to be… Each violation, wherever it occurs, threatens the rights, humanity and integrity of all of us and must be challenged by all of us, or in time, none of us will have any democratically enforceable rights at all.”

Wednesday, 7 November 2012

We have some way to travel yet

The following is an extract taken from a speech by Uachtarán Michael D Higgins at Queen's University, Belfast on 30th October 2012. It discusses the potential of Anglo-Irish unity.


We all know in our hearts that we have some way to travel yet, some work to do, before we redeem the full promise inherent in the Peace Process.
That sense of entanglement and horrific memory is most vividly present in the lives of those who lost loved ones during the troubles, who live with terrible injuries and the legacy of violence. More than any other group, they have been asked so much more than others – and are asked daily – to make a most difficult accommodation for peace. No group has done more to bring about the benefits we have all gained from the peace process than they and I salute them.
Theirs is a huge moral gift. Already in 1984, amid rumours of a ceasefire, the poet Michael Longley reached back over three thousand years to an episode in the Iliad to imagine what would be required – to the story of Priam, King of Troy and Achilles, the Greek warrior who had killed his son Hector.
Longley’s poem, Ceasefire described the generosity, empathy and remorse that are a necessary part of true reconciliation concluding with Priam’s words:
‘I get down on my knees and do what must be done
And kiss Achilles’ hand, the killer of my son.’
What is given in that moment is given with the greatest difficulty. It is not given once only. They are asked to “do what must be done” every day that they are forced to live with loss. Those who have not lost can talk more easily – even at times it must seem to the wounded, glibly – of ‘moving on’ but that is not so easily done. The challenge of reconciling with those who caused that loss is a momentous one.
But those of us who were more fortunate face a challenge also – to make sure that we do not allow new divisions to arise – between those who suffered and those who did not, between those who live every day with what happened to them and those who are intent on “moving on”.
Part of that challenge is to root out hatred from our midst. Hatred is a word that has dropped from our discourse. We have become accustomed to talking of sectarianism but is it not hatred by another name? It is bred by intolerance and indeed by a lack of the capacity or opportunity to change. It is not unique to any one group or place. It operates in two directions – one act of disregard feeding off another. Jack McConnell has described it as a secret shame. It is too rarely discussed. Yet if we fail to name it and discuss it we blind ourselves to the harm it can do, that is part of examining our stereotypes and letting go of what impedes us from the future we share.
The great benefits that flow from such open horizons are well illustrated here in Belfast’s thriving arts scene. The Belfast Festival kept open lines of communication and of inspiration across the world during some of the most difficult days of the troubles bringing here, during the 1970’s, Joseph Beuys and the Royal Swedish Ballet among many other international artists.
We know how important these horizons are at times of great stress. Dubliners still remember, for example, the day in 1973 that the England rugby team defied IRA death threats to travel to Ireland and play to a standing ovation at Lansdowne Road, all stereotypes suspended for the enjoyment of that which knew no borders, was simply human.
Those multiple points of connection that I described earlier are addressing some of the post-conflict challenges I have outlined, because ultimately these are not issues solely of politics or legislation or policing but of finding real points of human connection.
The solution lies not just with government – though Government bears a heavy responsibility – but with countless individuals who take a journey into the unknown animated by the courage of departure and a generosity of spirit, and who are willing to review the narratives they have found, are willing to listen to the narrative of the other, pause, review, forgive, allow or pardon.
In that sense, the next stage of the peace process requires us all to be pilgrims on a journey of such ethical reflection as will lead us to the light of peaceful enjoyment of the complex way our lives are intertwined.
It was the Irish writer George Bernard Shaw who first used the words made famous by John F Kennedy: “Some men see things as they are and ask ‘why?’. Others dream things that never were and ask ‘why not?”
For the past 20 years, as if making up for lost time, we have been asking “why not?” and the answers have brought us to unexpected places.
To quote a recent statement, the British-Irish relationship has “never been stronger or more settled, as complex or as important, as it is today”. There are more things we are doing together every month. Areas where we are not disabled by any stereotype, old or new, and which might be overlooked.
...
As to what is formally recalled; what should be remembered, what should not be forgotten: In a decade of centenaries we are thoughtfully able to include in memories, and honour, all those Irish who died for the ideal they chose as important, those who helped create the Irish State, those who shaped the United Kingdom, and all the lives lost including those from among the 200,000 Irish who fought in The Great War with its awful human carnage.
When the children and grandchildren of migrants take pride and inspiration in their past, that can unlock new potential in society – as the United States learned to its great benefit. The growing pride felt by those of Irish ancestry in Britain and those of British ancestry in Ireland, will be a source of energy, inspiration and vigour for society.
We can certainly take pride in what Irish emigrants and their descendents have contributed to British culture – to popular music for example where the Irish influence extends from the Beatles to the Pogues, Oasis and Morrissey, and to more recent bands such as Mumford and Sons and Elbow; there are examples of not just lives entwined but a very creative entwinement, grown, once again from multiple human connections.
There are, of course, challenges we face together, in Europe, in Northern Ireland, Britain and Ireland. Foremost among these is the necessity of providing jobs for a talented new generation emerging from our schools and colleges.
The notion of prosperity in public discourse is too often measured solely by Gross Domestic Product but society will not prosper on a rising GDP alone. Prosperity has but an instrument purpose aimed at a deeper societal dimension.
Our common future needs the creativity of our young people, and connected to economic questions are such societal questions – as how to avoid new division between those with good prospects of finding a job and those with poor prospects – or no prospect at all.
...
To conclude then; No matter how effective the political and economic solutions we find to these challenges, circular migration, will continue to be a fact of life – within and between our societies and further afield.
______

Thursday, 11 October 2012

"Seas an Fód" - Stand Your Ground

PJ McGrory Human Rights Lecture
given by President Mary McAleese, Uachtarán na hÉireann
31 August 2011

The former President of the Irish Republic spoke at Féile an Phobail over a year ago, while entering the final days of her Presidency. Her lecture explained her admiration of the eponymous Paddy McGrory, a so-called 'human rights defender' who worked as a solicitor in Belfast. Mr McGrory has been quoted, however, as positing that the term "human rights lawyer" should not be attached to legal professionals as all lawyers, in fact, work to ensure that their own clients' human rights are not breached.

Paddy McGrory's son, Barra, is now the head of Northern Ireland's Public Prosecution Service (PPS) and has spoken out about the legacy of the Troubles through the prism of law and mechanisms for investigating and prosecuting. In her lecture, Mary McAleese spoke more generally about how each individual - and particularly advocates of rights-based systems at home and abroad - may guarantee that breaches do not occur.

It’s in not giving up, it’s in refusing to be cowed, it’s in holding onto that vision of a just and peaceful society, [and] committing to that vision – through thick, through thin – that the small steps of progress will accrete to what history will one day judge to be giant leaps forward... 
We need a lot of people who don’t swerve, a lot of people who stay faithful to those things that their instincts tell them are right action. We need people to stand their ground; 'seas an fód', mar a deireann sé as Gaeilge... That’s what we need to do to ensure that our future is the future that we do not just wish - but will - to leave to our children.

You can listen to this inspirational speech at the links below.

Part 1 of 2: http://soundcloud.com/cultureni/president-mary-mcaleese-part1
Part 2 of 2: http://soundcloud.com/cultureni/president-mary-mcaleese-part

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

"The homeland of social inclusion"?


In his first official visit to Northern Ireland, President Michael D Higgins spoke of the role of women in the Irish Trade Union movement. His remarks on 2 March 2012 in Belfast were visionary and fresh and suggest that the agenda of 2012/13 is as challenging as ever. His inspirational words (in the excerpt below) bear remembering as we debate constitutional issues and the role of individuals in a new Ireland.

"It is very understandable that people are hurt and dismayed by the economic crisis that shattered their lives. It demands a response. A huge price has been paid for the speculative period of unsustainable growth and false property led development in the first decade of this century. For those who promoted this bubble, personal wealth and material possessions became a dangerous obsession; at the level of society, ostentation replaced simplicity; and selfishness replaced selflessness. The sense of community, for which our island was so richly famous, was eroded as those who pursued aggressively individualistic goals had little time for collective endeavour, little interest in social solidarity and little capacity for ethical reflection. It is important too that the assumptions and the values  behind this false economy be exposed, be faced and be rejected as any version of the future we wish to create on this island.

We are emerging from a dark period in our economic history and we are certainly entitled  to curse that darkness. But we also need to light the candles of hope that will help us to navigate a path towards a better and fairer future. The tone of cynical fatalism that has dominated some of the public discourse in recent years will not serve us well for that journey ahead - it is markedly insufficient for the task of transformation we need. But surely the lesson of the peace process in Northern Ireland is that no problem, however its apparent intractability, is impervious to solution if we summon up the collective will, determination and ingenuity to address and resolve it.

We are at a crucial point of transition from one economic model that failed us all to another that has yet to be fully realised. We need to debate the nature and shape of that economy so that sustainability and social cohesion are given as much priority as efficiency and competitiveness. The perspective of women as citizens, in every sense of that term, must be allowed to inform that alternative version of economy and its connection with society. The media has an important role to play in ensuring that this debate takes place and that it occurs in a civil manner respecting the right of all points of view to offer their perspectives on the kind of economy and society they wish to bequeath to their children.

We are now also at a point, I suggest, when we need to refocus and reaffirm the values of active citizenship and a caring community. The view of the individual as being no more than a passive consumer of goods and services, and living in disaggregated isolation, is simply an unacceptable and very impoverishing thought. The idea of the citizen actively participating in a society in which he or she enjoys personal rights and discharges responsibilities in a shared community is a far more liberating and life-enhancing vision.
...

We must work together to reclaim a better version of Irishness than the recent one which has thankfully expired - where we put community solidarity and social cohesion above the demands of acquisitive individualism. Only then can we fully rebuild our personal lives and our communities. Only then will our island re-emerge as the homeland of social inclusion rather than social exclusion, as a place whose international reputation repudiates the appalling notion that "greed is good"."

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Monarchy in a New Ireland

This week of the Diamond Jubilee, I've written about the distinction between Monarchy and Republic on the island of Ireland.

MONARCHY IN A NEW IRELAND
http://www.newirelander.com/2012/06/monarchy-in-new-ireland.html

Tuesday, 29 May 2012

Addressing Racism

Last night, the shock factor was impressively employed by the BBC Panorama crew as it documented examples of violence and fascism in both Poland and Ukraine. These nations will jointly host the Euro 2012 Finals, which begin next week. The programme, called “Stadiums of Hate”, featured interviews with so-called ‘Ultras’ (a universal term for hardcore soccer fans). They support their respective teams by chanting throughout matches and brandishing club paraphernalia at every opportunity in order to intimidate opponents. According to the programme, other forms of support appear to include taunting Jews, giving a Nazi salute, and attacking individuals of minority ethnicity inside stadiums. The final sequence of the documentary showed vivid and shocking footage of an unprovoked attack on supporters of the same team.

This sensationalist portrayal of the host nations' attitude to sport has attracted much debate. Sol Campbell remarked during the programme that he would advise English fans against travelling to the competition, for fear of similar treatment at the hands of local fascist hoodlums. This reactionary statement has major consequences for the tournament’s organisers, and they have responded as we would expect. Markian Lubkivsky, the Ukraine’s Director of Euro 2012 labelled Campbell’s remarks “simply insolent”. Andriy Shevchenko also downplayed the evidence of widespread fascism in Ukraine’s soccer leagues.

The fact that the family of England’s Theo Walcott will not travel to the Euros is a premature blow to its legacy. Its message of inclusivity and camaraderie is spoiled by this family’s decision not to cheer on their relative in person. If racism and xenophobia are to be overcome, perhaps it might be better to address the problem with joined-up forces and a sense of determination. To allow racists the satisfaction of staying out of their way can be unhelpful.

John Terry is awaiting trial for a charge of racially aggravated words or behaviour under s.31 (1)(c) Crime and Disorder Act 1998. (In full, ‘using threatening, abusive or insulting words or behaviour, or disorderly behaviour within the hearing or sight of a person likely to cause harassment, alarm or distress’ in a manner which is racially aggravated). This former England captain will travel to Poland and Ukraine to represent his nation on the continent. He is an ambassador for the F.A., yet he faces resounding allegations of racism. Of course, John Terry is innocent in law until proven guilty at trial. The appropriateness of his continuing to be allowed to play for his country under these circumstances is questionable nonetheless. The gravity of the charge and his profile within English and European sport arguably suffice as reasons to warrant at least a suspension until the trial has been concluded. This would send out a message of mature responsibility and zero tolerance. It seems, however, that the English Football Association has prioritised its team’s prospects at Euro 2012 over its moral standing on an international level. To act thus when an English player’s family will not travel for fear of racial abuse could be viewed as a somewhat inappropriate and inadequate measure.

Monday, 14 May 2012

No More Traffik

An article I wrote recently was published today on the rightsni.org blog. It deals with the invisible shame of human trafficking in Northern Ireland.

http://rightsni.org/2012/05/no-more-traffik-on-our-streets/


Thursday, 5 April 2012

Maturity

New Irelander blog's newest piece was written by me earlier today. Please follow the link.

"The archaic insolence of dissident republicanism may be disturbing, but it harks to a time before social networking and online sharing. A dominating characteristic of life for young people in Ireland in the 21st century is boundless interconnection; it is difficult to avoid a growing attachment to each other with the prevalence of Twitter, Facebook, Google+, etc. (whether we like it or not). In light of this modern webscape, a mature New Ireland must hatch from the adolescent ‘Peace Process’."

Saturday, 31 March 2012

Identity in a Post-Racial society

Just click on the title to read "Identity in a Post-Racial Society" from the lawthink.co.uk blog. It deals with 21st century dynamic of identity politics in the United Kingdom.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Reflections on St. Patrick's Day

I've written my latest piece for the New Irelander blog. It is about the 21st century significance of a religious festivity such as St. Patrick's Day. How does it reflect the Ireland of today?

It was published on 27th March, and may be read here.

Monday, 26 March 2012

Post on rightsni blog

This month, I had a guest post on the www.rightsni.org blog, which is hosted by the CAJ and Amnesty NI.

My post, entitled "Abu Qatada, Marian McGlinchey and Due Process", can be read here.