Guantánamo Still

Protestors against Guantánamo in front of the White House (from El País).

Yesterday it was informed that a clash between inmates and security forces in the Guantánamo Bay prison occurred. This was a response to the prisoners’ attempts to block security cameras, windows, and other means by which they could be surveilled. “Non-lethal” rounds of ammunition were shot, provoking no “serious injuries” to anyone. Detainees were moved to individual cells, expecting to impede any effort to coordinate further collective actions.

This confrontation happens within the context of a hunger strike that began in February this year in which participate some number between 43 (the official figure) and “the vast majority” (according to the lawyers of some of the detainees) of the 166 prisoners. This began as a protest of the inmates against what they saw as a breach in their privacy when, allegedly, guards entered their cells and seized personal objects, mistreating copies of the Quran in the process. Some detainees have been fed with liquids by force. By individually confining prisoners after yesterday’s clash, it is expected that the hunger strike also loses coordination and can finally be stopped.

Additionally, the fight occurred the day after the Washington Post informed that e-mails used by the defense of detainees had been illegally accessed and used by prosecutors of the prison’s court. For that reason, the trials will be delayed for two months, until security in communications is restored. This builds on other accusations of the government monitoring over prisoners and their lawyers, questioning the legitimacy of the ongoing trials for the detainees.

Needless to say, Guantánamo is one of the heaviest loads of the current U.S. administration. Not only because President Obama has failed to close the prison, as he promised he would do, but also because the continuation of its operations keeps bringing about very serious problems which touch on the commitment of the U.S. to the defense of human rights, the due process, and the rule of law. This further raises the already high concerns on the legitimacy the U.S. has to promote those values abroad. The clash between guards and prisoners of Guantánamo says nothing new. It is just a reminder that the problem is still there, and that not attending it not only maintains it existence, but worsens it.

Memory and Justice

The Memorial for Victims of Violence, in Mexico City (from CNN Mexico).

On Friday, the Mexican Secretary of Governance, Miguel Ángel Osorio, opened to the public the Violence Victims Memorial in Mexico City. It is a set of steel plates distributed in a public park, where anyone can write the name of a victim of the violence the country has suffered in the last years (particularly, murders and disappearances related to organized crime). One plate produces a reflection, attempting to illustrate that anyone could have been victim of the violence.

As most aspects of the drug-related violence, the memorial is surrounded by controversy ever since its inception. During a series of dialogues in 2011 between civil society organizations (CSOs) advocating justice for violence victims (many of those associations were formed by close relatives of the victims) and President Felipe Calderón, the former asked the government for justice. Among other things, this implied the prompt investigation of unsolved crimes with the corresponding punishment for perpetrators, adequate protection or assistance to the relatives of the victims, and a public acknowledgement that the state had part of the responsibility for the violence.

Originally, President Calderón refused to attend the last point. He said that it was the organized crime, not the state, that was killing people. In any case, the state would excuse for the people it had been unable to protect, but not for generating the violent environment of the country. Under major pressure from CSOs, the government finally accepted to build a memorial for the victims of violence.

There has been little agreement on the interpretation of the memorial. Some organizations say that indeed it serves to remind of the high human cost the security policy has had. Others argue that its construction was aimed just at appeasing advocacy CSOs. A third set of groups states that it would be far more useful for victims and their families, as previously demanded, to make justice by investigating their crimes. Finally, some people mentioned that the location of the memorial, just outside a military field, was a jibe, given that within the context of operations against organized crime the Army has received a number of accusations of gross human rights violations against citizens, sometimes even killing them.

Those controversies halted President Calderón to open the memorial to the public days before leaving office in December last year. During the last weeks of his administration, public officials tried to reach an agreement with CSOs on the interpretation of the memorial, but nothing came up. In spite of this, President Enrique Peña ordered the opening of the site, with differences among CSOs still visible.

The new Mexican government has tried to demonstrate that the approach to the security problem will be different than that of its predecessor. The memorial and a law to provide protection, assistance, and access to justice to victims and their families were two initiatives that began during Calderón’s administration but were stopped by polemic. Without necessarily solving the questions around them, President Peña has brought to an end those decisions. On the one hand, these accomplishments can be defended by saying that it is better to have something than nothing, and that discussions among CSOs were leading to no clear destination. On the other hand, given antecedents in other policy areas, CSOs have the understandable fear that the inauguration of the memorial and the promulgation of the law for victims remain as protocol acts, without producing concrete results for people who have been affected by violence. What they want to know is what happened to their relatives, who did it, and that the perpetrators receive punishment. They did not receive that during Calderón’s administration, and they hope Peña’s will grant it. A memorial, whatever its significance, will never accomplish that goal.

Behold the Prisoner

Bosco Ntaganda (from Al Jazeera).

On Monday last week, Bosco Ntaganda, a Congolese warlord facing charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity (notably the conscription of children for his Patriotic Forces for the Liberation of Congo, FPLC, at least six years ago) from the International Criminal Court (ICC) presented himself in the U.S. Embassy in Rwanda asking to be taken to the ICC. An official from the court said it was the first time in history that a person with an arrest warrant voluntarily showed up for being processed. Ntaganda is already in The Hague, and he will be presented on Tuesday before a pre-trial court, in order to verify his identity, inform him personally of the charges of which he is accused, and set the date to begin the hearings for the process.

There are two questions around this surrender. First, why did he do it? Analysts suggest some possibilities. One option is that in fact Rwanda arranged Ntaganda to be delivered to the U.S. Embassy in order to try to clean the national name from accusations of supporting the activities of DRC rebels. It has also been suggested that Ntaganda’s own rebel group, M23 (a secession from the Congolese Army), was divided over the future of the rebellion, especially after in December 2012 it lost control over the city of Goma, which it had taken as a stronghold one month earlier. The group’s fissure would have been so deep that some of its members, defeated by another faction, fled to Rwanda, diminishing Ntaganda’s support base in DRC and increasing the threats to his physical security.

This leads to the second question: what is the future of the M23 and other rebellions in Congo? Ntaganda’s surrender does not leave the M23 acephalic. The winner of the group’s internal divide is Sultani Makenga, also sought for war crimes. It has been argued that Makenga is now so powerful that Ntaganda was better-off being trialed by the ICC than facing a confrontation with his former guerilla mate over the leadership of the M23 and the control over some areas of the country. In any case, Makenga blames and expectedly would be seeking revenge from Ntaganda for the assassination attempt against him last February.

The physical removal of Ntaganda from the scene of conflict then might not have solved much. He will be trialed and more likely than not will be found guilty. But he has left a vacuum of power in the M23 leadership, and Makenga is ready to seize it. However, Ntaganda might still fight for the remnants of his position from the bench of the defendants, thoroughly collaborating to build a case against Makenga. A Congolese warlord is to be put in jail, but his legacy of conflict is far from being over.

The Island

From left to right: Yoani Sánchez, Orlando Pardo, Ted Henken, and Eusebio Mujal León at Georgetown University last Wednesday (Photo: Heladio Ramírez).

Last Wednesday Cuban activists Yoani Sánchez and Orlando Pardo visited Georgetown University, accompanied by Ted Henken, President of the Association for the Study of the Cuban Economy. The title of the conversation they had with students was “Cuba and the Digital Revolution”.

Yoani Sánchez and Orlando Pardo looked tired because of the very tight agenda they have had in their visits in the U.S.: they spoke at Columbia and NYU, met with people from Google, went to the Congress, and participated at a conference in the Cato Institute. They said they had no political platform neither goals in relation to the use of power. They were just citizens who wanted to express freely using a new technology, the internet, but happened to live under a government that censors anything said that is not authorized by a direct instruction.

Mrs. Sánchez explained that in Cuba the internet is something distant and disconnected from reality for most of the country’s inhabitants. The reason is that very few Cubans have access to it; in addition to the websites blocked by the government, it is very slow and expensive to use at home or in public spaces. Whatever happened there usually stayed there. However, this is changing thanks to people fighting to make their voices heard and take control of their own times, instead of obeying the instructions of the leaders of the Communist Party. Cubans living on the island and in exile find each other and talk in the internet. Although modestly, it offers a space for the free exchange of ideas and, thus, a space for the organization of civil society. La Polémica Digital (http://espaciodeelaine.wordpress.com/), Havana Times (in English. http://espaciodeelaine.wordpress.com/), Café Fuerte (http://cafefuerte.com/), Voces Cubanas (http://vocescubanas.com/), Boring Home Utopics (http://vocescubanas.com/boringhomeutopics/), Lunes de Post-Revolución (http://orlandoluispardolazo.blogspot.com/), and Generación Y (in English: http://www.desdecuba.com/generationy/?paged=2) are some of the blogs created under such a spirit.

Without question, it is very impressing that people have found a way to go over censorship, arbitrary detentions, and public humiliations just to be able to talk freely, something taken for granted in most of the Western Hemisphere. It is also a very compelling idea that in spite of those obstacles civil society exists in Cuba, just that only in internet. It is clear that civil society is a fundamental element of democratic regimes. However, there is not such consensus on what role civil society plays in undermining an authoritarian regime or in the construction of a democracy.

Athough Yoani Sánchez and Orlando Pardo, along with other cybernetic activists, claim not to have a political agenda, the presence of civil society in the internet is a political consequence of their blogging activities: even if it is only in the web, the government is losing the monopoly of the public speech. With its old leadership and heavy bureaucracy, Cuban authorities have shown to be particularly slow in reacting to changing circumstances in the cpuntry. As Sánchez said, it is not possible to think as a repressive government and guess how Cuban authorities will react to the growing presence of civil society in the internet. But the mere fact that this has become a real question points out that the work of Sánchez, Pardo, and other activists is beginning to pay off for freedom in Cuba.

History and Justice

Ieng Sary during a trial in 2012 (from Reuters).

Yesterday the United Nations-backed Extraordinary Chambers in the Court of Cambodia (ECCC) informed that the Foreign Minister during the Khmer Rouge government, Ieng Sary, died. Arrested in 2007, he was facing charges of genocide and crimes against humanity committed during his tenure. Allegedly, he convinced Cambodian diplomats abroad to go back to their country to help the Khmer Rouge revolution, only to be sent to “re-education” camps and be assassinated, and actively participated in other executions. Due to his death, the Court suspended the process against him.

With the death of Sary, the chances that former members of the Khmer Rouge face justice are reducing. Under the leadership of Pol Pot, this movement ruled Cambodia between 1975 and 1979, provoking around 1.7 million deaths. The Khmer Rouge followed a radical version of communism. For instance, they forced city inhabitants to move to the fields to work in agriculture, and the use of glasses was punished as they were seen a symbol of the bourgeoisie and capitalism. In 1979, a Vietnamese invasion ended the Khmer Rouge government. Some of its leaders (including Pol Pot) fled, while others remained in Cambodia out of public light or resumed their political careers, mostly in the People’s Party, which has been in power for 27 years, with Hun Sen as Prime Minister.

Sary was one of the four top Khmer Rouge figures to face trial. Kaing Guek Eav, a prison commander, was sentenced to life prison in 2012. Nuon Chea, Khmer Rouge’s ideologue, and Khieu Samphan, the formal head of state, are still in trial. Pol Pot died in 1997 in a community of Cambodia controlled by remnants of the Khmer Rouge.

Organizations such as Human Rights Watch have serious doubts that any of the remaining former leaders of the movement will face justice. There is a similar concern with former top officials in other authoritarian regimes, such as militaries in Latin America and Southern Europe. The first problem is age; these leaders are around their 80s. Furthermore, given that the crimes of which they are accused occurred decades ago, it is difficult to retrieve and present the necessary evidence to convict them. However, a key difference between Latin American and Southern American, and Cambodian processes is that in the former regions governments are ready to conduct or to allow a process of revision and reconciliation, which is viewed within the larger context of democratization. Conversely, with the People’s Party still in power, there is little space for a similar opportunity in Cambodia. Even more, there have been complaints that judges in charge of Khmer Rouge trials have, under purpose, not investigated as thoroughly as possible evidence against Pol Pot’s aides, and have suspended without reason the processes.

Is it then that Khmer Rouge figures will not meet justice? Yes and no. On the one hand, Human Rights Watch’s worries that, due to whatever obstacles set or to their advanced ages, defendants will not listen to their sentences are very real. On the other hand, paraphrasing Fidel Castro, “history will judge them”. The legacy of authoritarian regimes is source of controversy in many countries. For instance, Chile’s Augusto Pinochet was a repressive leader, but achieved the stabilization of the economy after the severe crisis during the last months of Allende’s government. Or Castro himself established a regime that curtailed liberties while promoting socioeconomic equality. However, there is not much debate around the fact that Pol Pot’s Khmer Rouge experiment left anything else than death and chaos in Cambodia. The movement is clearly labeled by history as one of the worst crimes in history. Surely this is not enough for victims, but it leaves little, if any, space for a good assessment of Pol Pot and his clique any time in the future.