Wednesday, February 10, 2021

Sri Lanka at 73: Reflecting on Scape Goats and Caste Issues

 Isabel Wilkerson in her seminal book ‘Caste: The Origins of Our Discontent’ writes about how “the lower caste performed the unwitting role of diverting society’s attention from its structural ills and taking the blame for collective misfortune”. The lower caste, being identified as those who were historically stigmatised (in the case of Wilkerson largely referring to the African American in the USA), as scapegoats would help unify the favoured castes to be free of blemish as long as there is a visible disfavoured group to absorb their sins.

  

The concept of the word scapegoat is quite interesting. First coined in the 16th century, it was used to describe the ritual animals that the Jewish community placed their sins onto in preparation for Yom Kippur. A key part of Yom Kippur, as described in the Torah, is the ritual slaughter of two goats; one for the Lord, and the other is designated “for Azazel”. Jewish tradition takes “Azazel” as the name of a rocky headland off which one goat, having the sins and faults of the community symbolically placed upon it, would be banished to the wilderness, to suffer the sins of others, thus freeing the community to flourish in peace. The other goat, the one for the Lord, would be slaughtered as part of the general Yom Kippur rituals. This slaughter would bring atonement to the community. Over the years, the concept of the scapegoat has mutated from being the bearer of misfortune to being blamed for bringing misfortune, thereby relieving the scapegoaters of their own responsibilities. In this sense, scapegoating means finding the ones who can be identified with evil or wrongdoing, blamed for it and cast out of the community as a sense of atonement of the remaining members, those from the dominant class or majority community.

So why is this important for the topic at hand which is a reflection on the state of affairs for Sri Lanka at 73 years? In a normal trajectory of human life, once you reach the seventies timeframe as I have been continuously reminded by those who have reached that age, you know that you have some limitations of time as you are ‘retired’ and just wiling away time. You are unable to actively contribute towards society as you may have done previously. All you can do is provide the benefit of your knowledge, wisdom and experience. You try to look forward and reflect on what you have achieved. You try to see if you can atone for your mistakes but at the same time, try to enjoy the remainder of life.

73 years of a nation’s history should also accord us the same reflection. As Wilkerson (2020) alludes “looking beneath the history of one’s country is like learning that alcoholism or depression runs in one’s family. You don't ball up in a corner with guilt or shame. You don’t if you are wise forbid any mention of them. You do the opposite. You educate yourself. You learn the consequences and obstacles and then you take precautions to protect yourself and work to ensure that these things don't happen again”. So in that spirit, we reflect on the past 73 years on whether we became ‘independent’ from a colonial power just to become ‘dependent’ on our closed patriarchal and monolithic thinking. In that reflection we also ponder more widely on how the country has evolved. As we celebrate the nation’s independence which in effect meant freedom from the rule of an outside force allowing all people the ability to take part in the decision making of their country, we must reflect whether this has been achieved and what should be achieved?

Whilst the formal system of caste is not something that Sri Lanka practices as strongly as its neighbour India, the concept of caste as an artificial construct of a ranking of human value that sets the presumed supremacy of one group against the presumed inferiority of other groups, very much exists. In this construct, the presumed inferiority is based on ancestry and other immutable traits that are ascribed life and death meaning in a hierarchy favouring the dominant caste (majority community) whose forebears designed it (Wilkerson 2020). In a similar guise, the concept of scapegoating has been present since independence. From the disenfranchisement and the stripping away of the citizenship of Indian Tamils; to the disillusionment of youth from the south in the seventies; to the marginalisation and harassment of Tamils initially based on language but later on historical mythology, ultimately leading to a bloody conflict and a violent conclusion; to the increasing harassment, hate speech and incitement to violence against the Muslim community over the last 12 years including a disregard of the basic funeral rites for COVID-19 victims, all of these in one way or another have become a scapegoat for the State’s failure, since Independence, to correct structural ills and the inequities associated with these ills. In particular the forced cremation issue over the last one year has displayed a disregard for the community and are a sign, in the words of the UN Special Rapporteurs, of “discrimination, aggressive nationalism and ethno centrism amounting to persecution of Muslim and other minorities in the country.”

So in this failure, there is a constituency full of an anticipation of their entitlement simply because of which community they come from, and with a sense of precarity for the loss based on the incompetence of the State to provide for them, becoming complicit in advancing this narrative that scape goats and punishes the minorities as being disproportionately privileged or undeservedly benefitting. A tragic irony given that the very machinery upon which the majority have been afforded the chance to build their lives and assets is often forbidden or made difficult to access for the minorities. 

After 73 years, Sri Lanka is facing its biggest international challenge in this regard with the recent UNHRC report that has berated the Government for an accelerated deterioration in civic, political, minority, religious and other democratic rights in recent times, “a deteriorating human rights situation and a significantly heightened risk of future violations”. And whilst there will be a push from the State as in recent times to go an offensive, deny and confront these ‘external’ influences, the fact of the matter is that unless it confronts the failure to fix the structural failures and to deal with the minorities (or lower castes using the terminology of Isabel Wilkerson) in a way that acknowledges, respects, understands, accepts and includes them, this is a problem that will not go away.

Sri Lanka is not a homogeneous monolithic structure but one where cosmopolitans come together to provide agency and expression to the multiples identities that every person has and performs on a daily basis. Your single identity of faith or ethnicity or gender or age or social standing cannot and should not be a limiting factor to your agency of full expression of being Sri Lankan. 

So in the reflections for independence, the responsibility for all of us, but starting with the majority community, the dominant caste, who have the agency, the power and the privilege, has to reflect on accepting the diversity amongst your fellow countrymen: that the ‘privilege’ that you can have is based on your abilities and achievements not because you were born into wealth or a certain ethnic group or family or in a certain city.

Being ‘Sri Lankan’ is not just coalescing around the national team or flying the flag at Independence or as an option for the majority community to selectively choose and appropriate different cultural foods to articulate their preference or for the minority community to show that they are ‘true patriots’. It is not in the rhetoric or the clothes one wears. When people are oppressed due to their ethnicity or their faith; when they make ‘Russian roulette’ decisions based on their economic circumstances; when they know their gender might limit their agency; when those in power steal, cheat and lie; then this is a pain that all of us should feel. When one Sri Lankan is hurting, all of us should be hurting.

Reflecting on Sri Lanka and being Sri Lankan is to challenge those who say and do wrong even if they are from our own faith and ethnic grouping simply because this is the right and just thing to do.

So 73 years on, there has to be a recognition that to be Sri Lankan is to accept that the country belongs to all. Some of us may not have been in control of what happened in the past, but a majority of us have control of what can happen in the future. There is no political vision for nation building and nothing that respective governments have given us that give us confidence that this will be addressed. perhaps the failure is not with them, but is a collective responsibility as we ourselves in our own daily lives perhaps do not respect the very foundations of a nation. After all, how many of us are guilty of the selfishness of looking first to our own communities, to abusing the environment and also not necessarily understanding the hardships of the most vulnerable and marginalised?


Finally to be Sri Lankan is to accept that the above though seeming idealistic can be achievable if we can work together. Though we may not all get there in the end and that there will be many mountains to climb, we will persevere on this journey because we are Sri Lankans - who love this island, its different tastes, smells and colours - and this is the right and just thing to do.

--

This originally appeared here on Global Order

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Keeping the Dream Alive

 Last year, I wrote about needing to dare to dream in remembrance of Martin Luther King (MLK) in the midst of isolationism and racism. Reading back on that piece, I am struck that this was written pre pandemic lockdown, pre George Floyd, pre Washington DC attacks. So one year on, standing as we do on an annual basis to remember and rededicate our struggle for justice, equality and equity, what would MLK make of today’s environment.

We have seen the best and worst of humanity over the last year. We have seen the inequities brought about by the COVID-19 pandemic, whether it is those who are on the front line who have been disproportionately affected and died as a result; or being impacted on a secondary basis (socio-economic / inter personal violence). The inequities and injustices that have been faced by the most marginalized, most vulnerable are there to be seen. Secondly we have seen how communities have started to help each other out and really be there as a support in the local context. With the rise of right wing nationalism, the issues of racism and xenophobia have become more widespread. The attacks in Washington DC on the 6th of January, illustrate that racism has not only become mainstreamed but that this is a clear and present danger.

So in this light, a question to ask is how would MLK be viewing this particular fragile time in global history. In the light of his ‘I have a Dream’ speech, what would he be saying now faced with the past year?

My thoughts are that he perhaps would not be saying anything different. The tragedy is that despite being made all those years ago, the ‘I have a Dream’ speech is as relevant now as it was then. The incidents of the 6th of January as a culmination of the last 4 years, highlights that the USA still has much to follow to live up to that dream. Beyond that though, there is much to reflect whether we on the whole have truly learnt from that time of history. In the wake of the numerous social injustices and inequities of the past year, there is much to reflect on and be accountable for doing or not doing. What would MLK have said and more importantly what would he have done?

My feeling is that MLK, despite the challenges to his popularity or his Instagram image, would have stood up and spoken against the injustices of racism, the disproportionate amount of minorities suffering and dying from the pandemic and the rise of right wing nationalism. He would have challenged the system to correct the faults even though he faced the risk of being condemned to an obscurity that he didn’t deserve, such as what happened during the Vietnam war or even the Poor People’s Campaign.

the globalisation of fragility

The current globalization of fragility as a result of the pandemic requires a need for a new paradigm. MLK’s invocation offers hope for a manifesto to combat injustice that calls out for a spiritual response using non violence. In the wake of economic, psychosocial stressors, there is a need to come back to non violent resistance an act of moral resistance that brings to the front the fight against poverty, humiliation and underdevelopment.

Successful non violence efforts requires great strength of character, perseverance and discipline. It is a means of awakening a sense of injustice and moral shame in the supporters of a power structure, showing them that they have more to gain by ending injustice and oppression than by maintaining them. It is about exposing the unjust means of a power structure, the isolation of actions, changing the narrative that can be used for justification.

Ultimately non violence is about communicating a moral priority. None communicated this more than MLK who despite losing his supporter base would shift attention from the civil rights movement to economic injustice and the Vietnam war in 1965, which unfortunately have been erased from the cultural narrative of his life and legacy.

MLK used this as a invoking of a sense of moral shame that would damage or diminish its prestige. In his 1963 letter from Birmingham jail in particular, MLK drew inspiration from the gospel and biblical teachings in order to justify his fight against injustice. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. He mentions just and unjust law and offers insight into how not only the church but other faith leaders and communities should act in the face of injustice. — to be a thermostat that transformed the mores of society and when he mentions ‘ if the church of today doesn’t recapture the sacrificial spirit of the past, it will lose its authenticity. It will forfeit the loyalty of millions and will be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning’.

This is the dream that needs to be kept alive especially during these bleak times of the lockdown. Injustice in the home (through interpersonal violence), or in the community (through socio economic burdens) is on the increase. There has to be a way to fight against this to ensure that the marginalized and vulnerable are not forgotten.

As we face the pandemic and lockdown it is easy to get disillusioned. It is easy to lose confidence and focus. We have to keep our spirits up and the need to keep on dreaming. Confidence needs to be maintained

This is the challenge that MLK sets for us today, people of faith and no faith to see where we stand during times of challenge and controversy, rising above the narrow confines of our individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity. This is why we need to keep the dream alive to ensure the MLK’s vision is not confined to the annals of a whitewashed history.


This originally appeared on medium

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Reflections of 2020

 So there it is, we come to the end of 2020. To say that it has been a memorable year is perhaps an understatement. It is certainly one for the history books and once in a life time, where the globalisation of fragility was completely experienced and understood. For the first time in a long time, we globally collectively felt that connection, with some one else in the other part of the world. That connection of not being able to move out freely and having to physically distance. We truly felt that connection, when we heard stories of people dealing with loved ones who were sick or having zoom calls interrupted. We connected in ways that perhaps was not thought of before and we got personal insights into people’s homes; the pictures they hung on the walls, their sofas or kitchens, the books they read or even an insight into their personalities through the virtual backgrounds they used.

Yet in as much as the COVID-19 pandemic connected us, it also divided us and exposed those divisions in society for all to see. It showed us the horrible divisions between those who have, who could afford a separate space in their homes, and those who had to share with others. It showed us those who were digitally accessible and excluded those who did not have access to sustainable connection. It showed the real plight of the vulnerable and excluded in our societies, those hidden away and out of sight, who have carried the burden of this pandemic. Whether it is being on the front lines of service providers as bus drivers or cleaners or medical staff or living in under privileged housing, not being able to physically distance, not understanding the communication being shared about the pandemic, many of those who have been disproportionately been affected by the pandemic have been the faith and ethnic minorities. In some cases, the intersectionality with age, gender and disability means that those who are elderly, female, disabled and from a minority are worst affected. In many cases, ethnic and religious minorities, have been unfairly blamed for the cause and spread of the disease.

In all of that we were left with the need to change and adopt. Adopt to a new way of working; adopt to a new way of engaging with our families; adopt to a new way of worship; change how we looked at the concept of time and space. As faith leaders, we have had to embrace new ways of reaching out to our congregations as the hierarchy for religious dialogue has become flattened with a zoom call. We have had to think how we create virtually the same spirit that existed in person. We have also learnt to the things we could not change.

For many of us as managers and leaders, we have had to take on additional responsibilities on top of being coaches, guides, managers, leaders and mentors. We have had to take on the added responsibility of being the carers, the inspirers, the listeners and the motivators. We have had to be patient, we have had to be more compassionate, we have had to be more flexible, we have had to be more human. As we faced challenges for screen time, and face to face time with family, as we dealt with the tragedy of being away from loved ones, we have learnt to empathise with our team members who do this on a daily basis often without help. We learned that it is ok not to be ok, and it is ok to say that and express that. We have become patient with the phrase ‘sorry I have to deal with the kids now’ or ‘I can not put on the camera as I am working out of the kitchen’

Despite all these changes and challenges, the uncertainties, the sadness of the loss of life and the restrictions on movement, 2020 remains a year of learning and growth. For me this has meant:

Patience

Learning patience. Understanding the Serenity prayer when you pray for serenity and courage to be aware of what can be changed. If anything 2020 has taught me that resilience comes from patience. In the Qur’an we are reminded consistently around the need to build patience. In fact in Chapter 103, we are reminded that Man is at loss except those who amongst other things enjoin on each other the mutual teachings of patience. We are so used to things working at the click of the button that we have lost that ability to be in the moment and enjoy that space. We have forgotten to enjoy the journey and be content in acknowledging that we do not know what we do not know. We have to learn to be patient, with each other, with the process, with ourselves. We do not need to continuously achieve and do everything. Sometimes, we just need to stop. We need to listen to the wind, to the birds and to the people. We need to talk and hear their voices. We need to be inclusive and accessible and meet people where they are and not where we want them to be.

Spiritual Reset

Getting a Spiritual Reset. This year we have had to worship differently and discover new ways of keeping in touch with our spirituality. For many faith leaders, they are now on duty and on line consistently more than ever. There is hardly time for them to switch off or reset. Who motivates the motivators is a key concern of mine. So there is a need to find a safe space for dialogue, reflection, learning and sharing from an inter and intra faith perspective. Likewise for many of us in our own individual spiritual journeys, we need those spaces and those inspirations to help us. This year more than ever, I feel blessed not to have learnt and engaged in my spiritual traditions but also in talking to people from other faiths, learnt and appreciated some of their spiritual traditions that inspire them. In talking to them of their faith and their understanding of God, I have come to appreciate my own individual spiritual journey. How can I sustain my spiritual upliftment? you have to learn to get it from all sources whilst keeping true to your principles. seeking knowledge means you are open to different tools to help you with your journey

Company

Relishing the Company. Because of the physical distancing, we have come to appreciate those relationships that we had and couldn’t meet this year. In our busy lives, it is those that we share our lives with on a daily basis that we take for granted and we segment time for them. The pandemic has given a new appreciation of your partner, in terms of their likes and dislikes and your kids. There is a realisation that out beyond the technologies there is a field where your kids and partner just want to play, to imagine, to draw, to read, to have a movie night, to cook together, to shop together, to laugh, to have spontaneous fun. This is worth more than the scheduled holidays or the organised events. It is those 10 mins in a day that add some energy to you and lets those who you love know you are there for them. You will discover characteristics and traits that you didn’t see and you will appreciate the flaws and strengths of your loved ones. This pandemic has also meant more frequent calls with loved ones in other countries, which has been great to understand that a monthly conversation is worth it despite the fact that you don’t particularly like that cousin. For me, it has meant having those daily or once in two days conversations with my parents even if it is for 10 mins. I haven’t seen them in close to 2 years and since they live in a different country to me, I know it will be a while since we meet. So even if we talk about the weather, it is this need for them to know that I am there and for me to hear their voices.

The journey

Enjoying the journey. We have gotten so used to thinking about what next, the next job, the next country to holiday in, the next gig. We haven’t really got time to enjoy the journey. We don’t see the wood from the trees. Picture a train ride in the picturesque swiss country side. Instead of looking at the window at the lovely lac leman, we are focussed on what is happening in the other part of the world. We watch tv but read the latest face book updates. We are never really present. COVID taught us to be present, to slow down, to relax and take in the moment. We were not able to go any where, we were not able to do much, we were not able to plan for the future, so we took in the moment.

Gratitude

Being Grateful. I learnt that though we were suffering from the lockdown, I was in a better position than others. I had a steady job, in comparative safety, able to work and contribute, bring in the monthly pay check, put food on the table and ensure life continues as much as normal. This is something to be so grateful for given others have not been so lucky. So be grateful for what we have right now. In that gratitude is the opportunity to help others in whatever small way, by giving in charity, helping and mentoring others, listening to people, talking to them and being there for them emotionally. To cherish the gratitude has meant also giving back, and learning new skills. Using this opportunity not to feel down but to see how you can learn and improve.

Now I appreciate that one can be cynical about this and say that I speak from a position of privilege which I totally accept. However this is the current reality in which I am in and these are the lessons and reflections that I want to share with you. I hope they are useful.

For 2021, I hope we learn and keep these reflections in the back of our mind as we move forward to be better humans, to be better with our families, with each other and with the environment. The pandemic has taught us the human life is vulnerable and no one is indispensable, so no one should think of themselves as superior because of their age, gender, faith, ethnicity, colour, social status. So as we get back to a new post covid normalcy, let us shed our arrogance of ego, our quest for competition and destruction and come back to a new compassionate perspective.

===

This originally appeared on Medium

Thursday, December 17, 2020

To bury or not to bury… that is the question

 I had a conversation with a friend from Sri Lanka recently. Both of us being from the Muslim minority community we were reflecting on the current state of things with regards the cremation of COVID-19 burials enforced by the Sri Lankan government despite no substantiated technical or scientific evidence, going against all of international guidance from the World Health Organisation and the International Committee of the Red Cross. He told me of the heartbreaking discussion he had with his family just in case of his untimely death. In the event if there was any suspicion that he had died from COVID-19, he had requested his family not to pursue with the burial, dispute the cause of death or even claim his body from the hospital, putting the burden on them to cremate. Instead he requested his family to allow the authorities to cremate his body as they have been doing with other unclaimed bodies of covid victims. Instead he had asked his family to say a prayer for him and plant a tree in his memory. This was a difficult conversation for me to have for two reasons.

The first being the mental anguish that people are going through in Sri Lanka around being accused of having covid, but that in many cases, people who have died of other causes are being labelled as having died of covid-19. Either through sheer incompetence or malicious intent (given that many of those who have died have been from minority communities), there is a culture of fear pervading people in Sri Lanka around COVID-19.

The second difficulty for me was the state of my friend’s mind in asking his family not to claim his body and to allow the authorities to cremate the body. Such is the state of anguish and mental pressure affecting Muslims and Christians in Sri Lanka, that this is a real concern for their final rites. I could only imagine the courage that it takes for one person to have that conversation with your family members.

Like other cultures, the Muslim community have their own set of rituals, worship and traditions to help ease the pain. Within Islam, the management of dead bodies is the object of specific rules that are aimed at ensuring the dignity and respect of the dead as well as for their surviving relatives. In this sense, for Muslims, cremation is not only prohibited but it is viewed as a desecration of the deceased. This is based on the metaphysical belief of a connection between the body and soul even in death, and thus it is unthinkable for that type of treatment to be inflicted on the body in death.

In enforcing cremations, without any recourse to appeal, the Government stands accused of disregarding and being insensitive to the needs of the minority Muslim and Christian and marginalizing them. When I tried to discuss this with another friend of mine, who comes from the majority Sri Lanka ethnicity, it was explained away as saying “the trust with the Muslim community was lost after the Easter Sunday attacks and so this is the reason”. This is flabbergasting and really is a sign of the state of thinking especially amongst the majority.

It is this thinking that is plaguing people like my friend, causing unnecessary mental stress and anguish on top of the disruptions caused by the covid-19 lockdown. It is this exclusivist thinking that will push people to the extremes, thinking that they are not welcome and have no place.

To paraphrase a famous bard: To bury, or not to bury, that is the question:

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles And by opposing end them.

How do we oppose them?


this originally appeared on medium

Tuesday, November 10, 2020

After the elections — What next for reconciliation and trust building?

 

Now that the elections are over, the real and hard work starts

Building trust is the essential foundation for building healthy communities.

Trust is not a hotline

We need to bridge social capital

Keep the doors open

Works Cited



This originally appeared on Medium

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Beyond Rhetoric: The Need to Tackle Racism and Discrimination

 The repercussions from the death of George Floyd in the United States, which triggered the subsequent anti-racism protests globally, has caused all of us to collectively reflect on the difficult truth that there is still not a level playing field in the world according to the colour of one’s skin. 

Whilst there is an academic argument about whether ‘race’ or ‘ethnicity’ or other words are ‘correct’, the fact of the matter is that these arguments stem from people and positions of privilege.  Regardless of whether it is scientifically proven that there is only one human race, the lived experience of people that ARE discriminated against based on perceived race, or ethnic origin, or physical ability, appearances, gender identities – is very real. People are discriminated against based on the layman’s understanding of race, ethnicity, colour, gender identities, and physical and mental abilities.

The humanitarian sector is not immune to these discussions, with calls for reflections about long-standing problems of overt, hidden or unconscious systemic racism, in addition to a wider discussion around ‘de-colonizing’ the humanitarian aid system. Anecdotes from the humanitarian sector point out the overt experiences of racial discrimination, everyday micro-aggressions and unsafe workplace cultures. Much has already been written around how racism and decolonization within the humanitarian sector is related to a legacy from the colonial-era systems and structures of ‘civilizing missions’ which humanitarian agencies, often from the same countries as the colonial powers, still perpetuate.

In addressing racism as humanitarians, both our narrative and our actions matter.  If we are speaking on issues such as diversity and inclusion, we need to ask ourselves these questions: “Can all people see themselves represented here? Does our organizational culture speak to the very real experiences of people?”. Furthermore, our narrative must support our actions, starting with developing an equity-based understanding of humanitarian action which advocates for ‘adapting humanitarian work to each individual’s needs and background [to ensure] those affected are being treated equitably’.  This means understanding the intersectionality of oppression.  Racism is rooted in power hierarchies that often do not operate alone but intersect with gender, religion, socio-economic status, geography, sexual orientation, and numerous other social markers, creating layers of oppression that are inextricably intertwined.

Crucial to this conversation within the humanitarian sector has to be one on decolonising Eurocentric knowledge systems and tools, and their role in challenging the enduring effects of colonialism (and racism).  Hence, we need to break the ‘white gaze’ in our work as we question whose expertise we value, who we listen to, who holds the levers of power, who sits at the table and who gets a vote. 

A decolonisation of the narrative illustrates the need to reflect that we can no longer use the humanitarian principles “as a shield” to prevent more difficult reflections on our institutional biases and inequality.  For example, whilst the principle of impartiality remains the driving force towards genuine inclusion and diversity in the humanitarian sector, it is important to remember that the demand that humanitarians make no discrimination as to nationality, race, religious beliefs, class or political opinions extends to who we are as much as whom we serve.   

We must also recognise that “neutrality does not mean staying silent”, in the face of racism and violence.  It means speaking out and transitioning from a passive stance of not directly engaging in racist behaviours (i.e. not acknowledging differences and not actively addressing systems of oppression) to fighting and dismantling the systemic racism and other forms of inequity leading to systemic oppression and subordination.  We have to become anti-racist to challenge the passive approach towards the institutionalization of racism that creates systems and structures in organizations that ‘maintain privilege for some groups or individuals while restricting the rights and privileges of others’.

As the Red Cross Red Crescent Movement, we also need to ask ourselves serious and difficult questions about the issues of racism and related discrimination and power imbalances that are and could be present in our institutions at every level.  We have to move beyond just statements.  Whilst our Fundamental Principles dictate our actions, and our values motivate our compassion with local communities, we cannot hide behind the fact that we are products of our own contexts and environments and, as a consequence, we can be influenced by the related thinking and attitudes.  We need to be conscious that our history, our principles and our work does not make us immune to perceptions, misperceptions, power imbalances, privilege, racism, and discrimination.

At the 33rd International Conference of the Red Cross and Red Crescent in 2019, we recognised that trust was the most critical currency for the future of principled humanitarian action as we seek to systematically engage with and be accountable to the communities we serve.  Moreover, the Movement Statement on Integrity adopted at the 2019 Council of Delegates reaffirmed our commitment as a Movement to these communities by ensuring that our workplaces are safe for all and that the dignity and integrity of our staff and volunteers is preserved, safeguarded and promoted.  Building a supportive, safe and inclusive environment is a commitment we need to make to continue fostering honest conversations around racism and discrimination. At the same time, we must also encourage difficult questions that help to improve trust between each other, respect and acceptance of each other’s diversity, and enable an understanding and support for better practices within the Movement. In turn, this will also allow everyone to have their voices heard and respected.

There are no boundaries in terms of where we can go based on our Fundamental Principles and what we should do as individuals and organisations.  The fundamental argument for the fight for diversity, equity and inclusion is a moral one.  We need to DO better and we need to BE better -not because it is the good thing to do, but because it is the right thing to do –  and to treat people with dignity, respect, and humanity.  This is our moral responsibility.


This originally appeared here


Wednesday, October 14, 2020

Beyond Rhetoric: The Need to Tackle Racism and Discrimination

Abstract

The global anti-racism protests have caused all of us to collectively reflect on some difficult truths regarding racism and discrimination.  The humanitarian sector is not immune to these discussions, with calls for reflections about long-standing problems of systemic racism and ‘de-colonizing’ the aid system.  As the Red Cross Red Crescent Movement, we must be involved in these difficult conversations and should not shy away from serious reflections.  There are no boundaries in terms of where we can go based on our Fundamental Principles, and what we should do as individuals and organisations. This is our moral responsibility.


The Story

The repercussions from the death of George Floyd in the United States, which triggered the subsequent anti-racism protests globally, has caused all of us to collectively reflect on the difficult truth that there is still not a level playing field in the world according to the colour of one’s skin. 

Whilst there is an academic argument about whether ‘race’ or ‘ethnicity’ or other words are ‘correct’, the fact of the matter is that these arguments stem from people and positions of privilege.  Regardless of whether it is scientifically proven that there is only one human race, the lived experience of people that ARE discriminated against based on perceived race, or ethnic origin, or physical ability, appearances, gender identities – is very real. People are discriminated against based on the layman’s understanding of race, ethnicity, colour, gender identities, and physical and mental abilities.

The humanitarian sector is not immune to these discussions, with calls for reflections about long-standing problems of overt, hidden or unconscious systemic racism, in addition to a wider discussion around ‘de-colonizing’ the humanitarian aid system. Anecdotes from the humanitarian sector point out the overt experiences of racial discrimination, everyday micro-aggressions and unsafe workplace cultures. Much has already been written around how racism and decolonization within the humanitarian sector is related to a legacy from the colonial-era systems and structures of ‘civilizing missions’ which humanitarian agencies, often from the same countries as the colonial powers, still perpetuate.

In addressing racism as humanitarians, both our narrative and our actions matter.  If we are speaking on issues such as diversity and inclusion, we need to ask ourselves these questions: “Can all people see themselves represented here? Does our organizational culture speak to the very real experiences of people?”. Furthermore, our narrative must support our actions, starting with developing an equity-based understanding of humanitarian action which advocates for ‘adapting humanitarian work to each individual’s needs and background [to ensure] those affected are being treated equitably’.  This means understanding the intersectionality of oppression.  Racism is rooted in power hierarchies that often do not operate alone but intersect with gender, religion, socio-economic status, geography, sexual orientation, and numerous other social markers, creating layers of oppression that are inextricably intertwined.

Crucial to this conversation within the humanitarian sector has to be one on decolonising Eurocentric knowledge systems and tools, and their role in challenging the enduring effects of colonialism (and racism).  Hence, we need to break the ‘white gaze’ in our work as we question whose expertise we value, who we listen to, who holds the levers of power, who sits at the table and who gets a vote. 

A decolonisation of the narrative illustrates the need to reflect that we can no longer use the humanitarian principles “as a shield” to prevent more difficult reflections on our institutional biases and inequality.  For example, whilst the principle of impartiality remains the driving force towards genuine inclusion and diversity in the humanitarian sector, it is important to remember that the demand that humanitarians make no discrimination as to nationality, race, religious beliefs, class or political opinions extends to who we are as much as whom we serve.   

We must also recognise that “neutrality does not mean staying silent”, in the face of racism and violence.  It means speaking out and transitioning from a passive stance of not directly engaging in racist behaviours (i.e. not acknowledging differences and not actively addressing systems of oppression) to fighting and dismantling the systemic racism and other forms of inequity leading to systemic oppression and subordination.  We have to become anti-racist to challenge the passive approach towards the institutionalization of racism that creates systems and structures in organizations that ‘maintain privilege for some groups or individuals while restricting the rights and privileges of others’.

As the Red Cross Red Crescent Movement, we also need to ask ourselves serious and difficult questions about the issues of racism and related discrimination and power imbalances that are and could be present in our institutions at every level.  We have to move beyond just statements.  Whilst our Fundamental Principles dictate our actions, and our values motivate our compassion with local communities, we cannot hide behind the fact that we are products of our own contexts and environments and, as a consequence, we can be influenced by the related thinking and attitudes.  We need to be conscious that our history, our principles and our work does not make us immune to perceptions, misperceptions, power imbalances, privilege, racism, and discrimination.

At the 33rd International Conference of the Red Cross and Red Crescent in 2019, we recognised that trust was the most critical currency for the future of principled humanitarian action as we seek to systematically engage with and be accountable to the communities we serve.  Moreover, the Movement Statement on Integrity adopted at the 2019 Council of Delegates reaffirmed our commitment as a Movement to these communities by ensuring that our workplaces are safe for all and that the dignity and integrity of our staff and volunteers is preserved, safeguarded and promoted.  Building a supportive, safe and inclusive environment is a commitment we need to make to continue fostering honest conversations around racism and discrimination. At the same time, we must also encourage difficult questions that help to improve trust between each other, respect and acceptance of each other’s diversity, and enable an understanding and support for better practices within the Movement. In turn, this will also allow everyone to have their voices heard and respected.

There are no boundaries in terms of where we can go based on our Fundamental Principles and what we should do as individuals and organisations.  The fundamental argument for the fight for diversity, equity and inclusion is a moral one.  We need to DO better and we need to BE better -not because it is the good thing to do, but because it is the right thing to do –  and to treat people with dignity, respect, and humanity.  This is our moral responsibility. 



This was originally published here