Saturday, 3 October 2015

Statelessness: A New Canadian Policy

Statelessness: A New Canadian Policy

The Conservative government in Canada has reached a new low: it is trying to deprive a Canadian-born citizen of his Canadian nationality, on the grounds that he has a claim to Pakistani citizenship (“Tories bid to strip citizenship from Canadian-born terrorist,” The Globe and Mail, Toronto, October 2, 2015, p. A1).  The government doesn’t have to prove he has this claim: he has to prove he doesn’t. And he can’t go to court to object to the government’s decision to de-nationalize him: it’s an administrative matter in the hands of the minister of citizenship and immigration.

The person in question is Saad Gaya, who was born in Montreal, a Canadian city. He was convicted ten years ago of a terrorist plot to bomb Toronto. I don’t dispute his guilt, nor do I dispute that if he had succeeded in his plans, it would have been an enormous catastrophe.   

Asad Ansari, another person convicted of the Toronto plot, is a naturalized citizen born in Pakistan. The government is also trying to deprive him of Canadian citizenship. However, his case is now before a Federal Court on constitutional grounds.  

According to the 1961 United Nations Convention on the Reduction of  Statelessness, which Canada signed in 1978, no government may render anyone stateless. So our government can only go after people who are dual citizens or who—in the case of  Gaya--the government claims could be citizens of another country. Note that the individual doesn’t have to be a citizen of another state when Canada decides to de-nationalize him; he must merely—in the government’s view—have a claim to citizenship elsewhere. This is slightly better than the British who are, apparently, now willing to render individuals completely stateless. 
Audrey Macklin(University of Toronto website)

This new Canadian approach is an example of what Audrey Macklin, the author of a chapter in a book I co-edited with Margaret Walton-Roberts (The Human Right to Citizenship: A Slippery Concept, University of Pennsylvania Press, 2015) calls “sticky citizenship.”  This is citizenship you can’t get rid of.For example, Maher Arar, the Canadian deported by the US to Syria in 2002 on suspicion of terrorism, couldn’t get rid of his Syrian citizenship. He was tortured so badly that Canada eventually apologized and awarded him a settlement of $10.5  million because it co-operated with the US and the Syrians, instead of demanding his release.

Maher Arar(Tom Hanson/Canadian Press)
According to a report by University of Ottawa law professor Craig Forcese (The Globe and Mail “Several EU countries do permit stripping terrorists of citizenship”, October 3, p. A3) until very recently naturalized Canadians could only be deprived of citizenship if they obtained it fraudulently. This meant that they might have lied when they applied for citizenship, as many former Nazis did when immigrating to Canada after World War II. People born in Canada could not be deprived of citizenship for any reason.

Regular readers of this blog will know that on October 20, 2014 I posted a memoir by my father, then known as Helmut Hassmann, (;postID=3363676294007701043 ).My father was stateless from the time of his birth in Germany in 1913 until he became a British citizen in 1947. Because his paternal grandfather was born in Russia, neither he nor his father was considered German, even though they were both born in Germany. Here is what he wrote after reaching Switzerland in early 1939, part of the memoir I posted a year ago. Before reaching Switzerland he had been wandering around Europe, sometimes imprisoned, for several months.

“Being stateless, I was unable to obtain any residence or work permit abroad...You’re so utterly powerless, so impotent …Whatever happened to human rights? …Is it not a mockery of all humanity when, today, millions are forced to wander about aimlessly...When every country spits them out again like outcasts?”

This is what the current Canadian government wants to do. It wants to spit people out, render them outcasts. Statelessness means that no one will take you in, you belong nowhere, no one takes any responsibility whatsoever for you.   

There’s an electoral campaign going on in Canada right now, and the Conservatives are playing up the worst prejudices of Canadians against Muslims (whom many Canadians equate with terrorists). Aside from the statelessness issue, they’re making a big deal of a judicial ruling that there is no law preventing a prospective citizen from wearing a niqab—a cloth covering her face from the nose down- during the public citizenship ceremony. It isn’t as if there is any question about her identity: she will reveal her face to a female official before the ceremony. But the Conservatives are now higher in the polls than they were earlier in the campaign, because the Liberals and New Democratic Party won’t criticize the court’s ruling.

The niqab issue is symbolic. Women who wear niqab in Canada right now may suffer from prejudice, but they still have their human rights. Stateless people have no rights whatsoever. Stateless people are non-people; they do not exist.

It is a crime of the most enormous magnitude, and a sin of the highest order, to render anyone--even the most hardened criminal--stateless.

Monday, 24 August 2015

Testimonies of (Aboriginal) Hunger

Testimonies of (Aboriginal) Hunger
A while ago I asked my research assistant, Jinelle Piereder, to search the recent report of Canada’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, “The Survivors Speak: A Report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada.” (Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication 2015)
 I asked Jinelle to find testimonies about hunger in Canada’s now notorious residential schools, about which I have posted earlier blogs. See my blogs “Cultural Genocide of Canada’s Aboriginal People, June 16, 2015 and “Canada: Malnourishment of Aboriginal Children”, July 19, 2013. These were the schools in which Aboriginal children were imprisoned, abused, and starved from the 1870s to 1996 (when the last school closed) in order to “take the Indian out of the child” and convert them into (lower-class) white people. 

Below are the quotes Jinelle found: they speak for themselves. It’s shocking for me to read testimony from Canadian Aboriginals that resembles testimony I’ve been reading for the last few years about North Korea. I’ve left in the references that Jinelle included, in case you want to find the quotes yourself. The page numbers listed at the end of each quote are from the main report. However, each quote has its own statement number, location and date listed in the TRC report’s references (example below).

“Woodie Elias recalled being hungry all the time at the Anglican school in Aklavik in the Northwest Territories.
‘You didn’t get enough; hungry. So once in a while we go raid the cellar and you can’t call that stealing; that was our food. I got somebody, go in the kitchen and get the bread.'" (TRC, AVS, Woodie Elias, Statement to the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada, Fort McPherson, Northwest Territories, 12 September 2012 Statement Number: 2011-0343, p71)

“Of the food at the Fort Alexander school, Faron Fontaine said that all he could recall was
‘kids starving. Kids going in the kitchen to steal food. Lucky thing I knew some people that worked in there with my grandfather, they used to steal me, sneak me some food all the time, send me an apple or sandwich or something. It’s pretty good to have connections in there I guess. As for those other kids, I don’t know how they survived. Maybe their stomach shrunk enough that whatever they ate was filling them up, I don’t know.’” (p71)

“Andrew Paul said that every night at the Roman Catholic school in Aklavik,
‘we cried to have something good to eat before we sleep. A lot of the times the food we had was rancid, full of maggots, stink. Sometimes we would sneak away from school to go visit our aunts or uncles just to have a piece of bannock. They stayed in tents not far from the school. And when it’s raining outside we could smell them frying doughnuts, homemade doughnuts, and those were the days when we ate good.’” (p71)

“Doris Young said that hunger was a constant presence at the Anglican schools she attended in Saskatchewan and Manitoba.
‘I was always hungry. And we stole food. I remember stealing bread. And they, the pies that, that I remember stealing were lined up on a counter, and, and they weren’t for us to eat, they were for the, for the staff.’” (p72)

“Ray Silver recalled that a small grocery store used to dump spoiled fruits and vegetables by a creek near the Alberni, British Columbia, school.
‘And us kids, we used to sneak from the school, we must have had to walk about a mile, sneak away from the school, sneak over the bridge, and go to that dump, and pick up apples, they were half rotten or something, and they threw out, they were no more good to sell, but us kids that were starving, we’d go there and pick that stuff up, fill up our shirts, and run back across the bridge, and go back to the school.’” (p72)

“The conflict over food turned to abuse when students could not keep their food down. Bernard Catcheway recalled that in the 1960s at the Pine Creek, Manitoba, school,

Source: TRC website

‘we had to eat all our food even though we didn’t like it. There was a lot of times there I seen other students that threw up and they were forced to eat their own, their own vomit.’” (p74)

“Ethel Johnson had vivid memories of watching her younger sister struggling to eat food that she was not used to eating at the Shubenacadie school.
‘She didn’t like it. And the nun was behind her saying, “Eat it.” They used to call her pussy when she was in school; blue eyes I guess. And she couldn’t eat it, and she started crying. And then she tried to make her eat it; and she couldn’t. And then she threw up, and then she put her face in there. And she couldn’t; when you’re crying you can’t eat anyway.’” (p74)

“Gladys Prince recalled how at the Sandy Bay, Manitoba, school, the
‘priests ate the apples, we ate the peelings. That is what they fed us. We never ate bread. They were stingy them, their own, their own baking.’” (p 77)

Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Book Note: Herta Muller's The Appointment

Book Note: Herta Müller’s The Appointment

Herta Müller (Wiki Commons)
Herta Müller is a Romanian writer, born in 1953, who since 1987 has lived in Germany. In 2009 she was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature. At the time, I read news articles hinting that she did not deserve the prize and that her writing was inaccessible. So when I picked up one of her novels at a sale, I put off reading it for a long time. The novel is The Appointment (Henry Holt, 2001).

I was wrong to put off reading this book for so long: it is beautifully written and translated.  Müller is very sensitive to the physical environment and as I read the novel, I could feel the heaviness of the air before the rain and see the colours of evening skies. I could also imagine the poverty-stricken living conditions of Romania, the cramped apartments and the booze-soaked men. Romanians under the dictator Ceauşescu lived quiet lives of desperation (a phrase I’ve just discovered was coined by Henry David Thoreau).

This book is in the tradition of Kafka’s The Trial and Koestler’s Darkness at Noon. The protagonist is riding the bus to an appointment with her interrogator. Along the ways she muses about her life and about the fellow passengers on the bus, the old man in a straw hat, the man with the briefcase, the elderly woman going to market, the father with a crying baby. The driver doesn’t care about the schedule and gets off the bus whenever he feels like it, so she worries about being late as she watches him munch his rolls.

Unlike Kafka’s protagonist, Müller’s protagonist knows why she is being interrogated. I am not giving the plot away to reveal that she works in a clothing factory exporting goods to Italy. In desperation she put a note in a few pairs of trousers asking anyone who read it to marry her, and including her name and address. She is now being interrogated for betraying the socialist fatherland and for being a slut who would go with any Italian man who wanted her. She seems resigned to her fate but she is very afraid of the consequences of being late for the appointment with her interrogator, whose tactics include sleazy charm as well as threats.
Nicolae Ceauşescu in 1981 (Wiki Commons)

As she muses about her life while riding the bus, we learn obliquely about her relationship with her previous and present husbands, with her beautiful friend who has affairs with much older men, and about others in her life. We also learn about her grandfather who was deported to “the camp,” where her grandmother died. At first I thought Müller meant the Nazi concentration camps set up for Jews, but then I realized she meant the camps to which so-called enemies of socialism were deported. And we learn about her former father-in-law, a jumped up nobody who joined the Communist Party, started wearing perfume and riding a white horse, and picked out people he didn’t like for deportation to the camps.
Sighet Prison Memorial Museum,
interior with cell doors and
portraits of former inmates (Wiki Commons) 
In this novel—and probably in the actual Romania of the time-- nobody cares about anyone. The protagonist’s husband’s colleagues at work steal his clothes and laugh at him when he has to go home half-naked. The entire country is “decivilized” (a word I learned from a Russian academic when on an academic exchange trip to the Soviet Union in 1990).

Müller ends her novel with the sentence, “The trick is not to go mad.”  And indeed, The Appointment draws us into a world of madness, just as did Kafka (presciently, before European communism) and Koestler. I recommend this novel, and I’m going to read a lot more of Müller myself.

Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Robert Owen: Pioneer Social Reformer

Robert Owen: Pioneer Social Reformer

On July 25, 2015 I attended a family wedding in New Lanark, a village near Glasgow in Scotland. 

New Lanark, Scotland, 1984
(Wiki Commons, edited by original artist)
New Lanark is one of the most important sites of the British Industrial Revolution. It is where Robert Owen (1771-1858), manager and then owner of a cotton mill, introduced his radical social experiments in the treatment and education of workers. As opposed to the then-prevalent and entirely self-serving belief among the ruling classes that the poor deserved what they got, Owen believed that people were the products of their circumstances and that if they were properly treated, the poor would not be prone to vice, drink, and disease.

By today’s standards, Robert Owen was a terrible employer. According to the tourist information I received, he employed children as young as ten, and they worked ten and a half hours a day, six days a week. But by the standards of the day, he was a truly revolutionary reformer. At the time it was not uncommon for children as young as four to work in factories in extremely dangerous jobs, fourteen to sixteen hours a day seven days a week. 
Robert Own, aged about 50 (Wiki Commons)
In 1816 Owen also established the first nursery school in Britain. That’s probably one reason why the bride at the wedding—the daughter of one of my cousins--chose this site. She is a former nursery school teacher who now assesses student teachers.
The children of Owen’s workers entered the schools he provided when they were as young as 18 months, and they continued their education until they were ten or (if their parents could afford to keep them out of the factory) until they were twelve.  For some reason Owen believed especially in music and dance for children. He also opposed corporal punishment of children. He also established an adult education institute for his workers.    

Compared to the British policy toward the poor at the time, Owen was a radical reformer. Nor did he confine his efforts to the cotton mill he owned.  He lectured on social reform well into the nineteenth century, and he also helped establish some of the first trade unions in Britain. My guess is he probably had far more influence on British social thought than Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, two German-speakers who would not have been integrated into British society as Owen was.

As it happens, when I visited New Lanark I was also reading Alison Light’s book, Common People (Penguin 2014).  Light is a British social historian who decided to trace four lines of her ancestry, through all four of her grandparents. There weren’t many records of them, as they were indeed common folk, not the aristocrats fictionalized in Downton Abbey or self-indulgent artists like the Bloomsbury crowd that we often take as representative of British history.

 Light was born in 1955. One of her great-grandmothers spent the first eight years of her life in a workhouse and died in an asylum for the “insane.” Workhouses were appalling institutions where the poor were warehoused, given minimal if any food, and denied education, fresh air, or any form of recreation. Families were also separated. The idea was to make life so wretched for the poor that they would leave the workhouse, thus not being a charge upon the parish.

Some of Light’s ancestors worked in the eighteenth-century needle trade, manufacturing needles in their homes, risking blindness from poor lighting or shards of metal flying into their eyes. Many others led peripatetic lives, travelling all over Britain in search of work, enduring periods of unemployment and sickness without any assistance from their rulers. Light’s own father, born in the 1920s, had to leave school at 13 to go to work, even though he wanted to stay.

Alison Light (
Light makes clear that life for common British people was extremely difficult. Only after WWII did it become possible for people like her, from common families, to enter university. Indeed, only after WWII was any serious effort made at social reform, despite the earlier existence of trade unions and the Labour party.  

Many of the more ideological students of international human rights still contend that “economic” human rights were introduced by the Soviet Bloc and by less-developed countries, while “the West,” so-called, focused only on civil and political rights. Reformers like Robert Owen in Britain (and briefly in America, at a failed social colony called New Harmony that he set up in Indiana in 1925) put the lie to this still common perception. It is true that the United States persecuted and deported many of its social reformers in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, so that it does not have a viable left-wing, social democratic political alternative today. But social democracy and utopian socialism have a long history in most Western countries.

Those whose ideological predispositions make them despise “the West” as full of colonizers and exploiters would do well to read Light’s history of her own family to find out what life was like for most British people. They should also be more aware of reformers like Owen.

Monday, 20 July 2015

Worrying about South Africa


A few days ago (July 18, 2015) I was asked to give a brief talk at an event in Brantford, Ontario—the location of a branch of Wilfrid Laurier University, where I work—on the occasion of Nelson Mandela Day. This is a worldwide movement to encourage people everywhere to devote 67 minutes to volunteer work, in recognition of Mandela’s own 67 years of public service.

I was asked to give an inspiring speech, but as an academic I’m more likely to be a worrier than an inspirer. Indeed, in 1994 I reviewed a book entitled Advancing Human Rights in South Africa by Albie Sachs, one of the leaders of the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa (you can find my review in the Journal of Contemporary African Studies, vol. 12, no.2, 1994, pp. 222-25). I doubted Sachs’ contention that South Africa could become a social democratic country, in which economic human rights were protected as well as constitutionalism, the rule of law, and non-racialism (this time protecting non-black minorities rather than the black majority).

Albie Sachs
Source: Bates News
In preparation for my talk at Brantford, I asked my research assistant, Ms. Jinelle Piereder, to find some statistics for me, on “good news” and “bad news” in South Africa.  Here are some samples of what she found: if you’d like her sources, email me at and I’ll send them to you.

Here’s some good news:

Housing: since 1994, the government has built 1.4 million housing units for more than 5 million people.

Electricity: 54-58% of the population had access to electricity in 1993-1996; by 2012 that figure had risen to 85.4%.  

Clean Water: only 59% of the population had access to clean water in 1994; by 2013 that figure had risen to 94.7% of the population.  

Education: 98% of children that should be in grade 6 are actually in school, and the percentage of black South Africans age 20 and up that has received no education fell from 24% in 1996 to 10.5% in 2011.

Land Redistribution: from 1994 to 2013, 4.2 million hectares of land was transferred through the government’s redistribution program, and 3.08 million hectares was subject to restitution, for a total of approximately 7.3 million hectares.  Between 3,712 and 4,813 farms has been redistributed since 1994, benefitting over 220,000 people.

Now here’s some bad news:

Unemployment rate: the unemployment rate was estimated at 20%- 31.5% in 1994, and rose to 24.3% -35.6% 2013, depends on how you define unemployment.

Crime: The rate for sexual offenses is 118.2 per 100,000 people; for murder it is 32.2 per 100,000 people; and for kidnapping it is 7.8 per 100,000 people; these are very high rates.

HIV/AIDS: 12% of the population has HIV/AIDS, and for adults aged 15-49 the rate is 19%. South Africa does have one of the world’s largest ARV treatment programs, but it was delayed for several years under Thabo Mbeki, Mandela’s successor as President, because of his and his health minister’s disbelief in the efficacy of AIDS medications. Researchers at Harvard University calculated that Mbeki’s AIDS denialism was responsible for 330,000 unnecessary deaths.

Informal settlements: In 1996, 1.5 million households lived in informal settlements across South Africa: in 2011 the number was 2 million. This means the government hasn’t been able to keep up with population growth in providing housing.

A lot of what’s going on in South Africa today has me more worried than when I wrote my review in 1994. 

There’s the (almost) constitutional crisis in June 2015. That’s when President Al-Bashir of Sudan, who is under indictment by the International Criminal Court (ICC) for genocide in Darfur, visited South Africa for a meeting of the African Union. Countries that are party to the Rome Statute of the ICC, including South Africa, are supposed to arrest anyone under indictment if they are on that country’s territory. The South African government did not arrest Al-Bashir. In fact, when a South Africa court ordered that he be temporarily detained until it could consider a request to have him arrested, the government helped to spirit him out of the country.

There’s also increasing pressure on the free press, according to a recent article in The Economist (June 17, 2015, p. 40). The government pressures the South African Broadcasting Corporation to be biased in its favour, and uses government funds to purchase independent privately-owned media and convert them into government mouthpieces.

President Jacob Zuma
Source: IOL News, Henk Kruger
Corruption is also a growing problem. President Jacob Zuma is reputed to have spent $21 million of public money on his home compound, including a swimming pool.  But this may be small change compared to other aspects of corruption, favoritism towards African National Congress (ANC) government supporters, etc.

And there’s severe prejudice against the GLBT community. This is no surprise. In recent years GLBT rights have become flashpoints for rhetoric against the West and defense of so-called “traditional” ways of life in countries such as Zimbabwe, Namibia, Ghana, Nigeria and Uganda as well as South Africa. I’m afraid that many black and/or “traditional” South Africans view the South African constitution, with its “rights-for-everyone” approach, as another example of white imperialism.

Julius Malema
Source: The Voice of the Cape FM
And most worrisome is the prospect of a populist, anti-white government that will impose radical and destructive economic policies, such as land confiscations without compensation and nationalization of privately-owned mines and industries. Julius Malema has led the opposition political party, the Economic Freedom Fighters, since 2013.  This party has a large following, despite Malema’s own well-known personal corruption. In 2011, Malema was convicted of hate speech for singing the song, “Shoot the Boers.”  Boer is a term for white South Africans.

An estimated 3.1 million South African blacks lost their property under apartheid. Many of them were then confined to supposedly “independent “ Bantustans, essentially dumping grounds for “surplus” blacks. Lots of these people are still landless and their children and grandchildren are jobless, without a role and recognition in society. They are fertile grounds for populist demagoguery.

Joblessness and lack of social roles also helps explain the high crime rates in contemporary South Africa. I think one of the reasons for these high crime rates is that many of the men who commit crimes grew up under apartheid; a 35-year-old criminal would have been born in 1980. The apartheid government deliberately destroyed the black South African family. Many fathers lived in migrant work camps and rarely saw their children; many mothers had to leave their children alone for 12 to 16 hours a day as they travelled from peri-urban black townships into white areas to work as domestic servants. Schooling for blacks also was inferior.  

So there’s a portion of the South African population that may be very susceptible to populist rhetoric. Julius Malema knows this. Populists reject constitutionalism, the rule of law, and standard civil and political rights. If Malema takes power, I am afraid that the inspiring South African experiment will end in disaster.

1.    Free yourself.

2.    Free others.

3.    Serve every day.

Tuesday, 14 July 2015

Dominican Republic Deports People of Haitian Descent

Dominican Republic Deports People of Haitian Descent

(This is a guest blog by Margaret Walton-Roberts, the co-editor of The Human Right to Citizenship: A Slippery Concept, published by the University of Pennsylvania Press, which I announced in my blog of July 7, 2015 ( In this blog, Margaret expounds on the Dominican Republic’s current deportations of people of Haitian descent, a case I mentioned briefly in my introduction to the book).

In recent months I have been struck by the relevance of The Human Right to Citizenship. In September 2013 the Dominican Republic (DR) issued the Tribunal Constitution Resolution 168/13, which retroactively removed citizenship from a Dominican-born woman of Haitian descent, after which the court demanded that all similar cases be noted and that those individuals be defined as foreigners.

A member of the Dominican Special Unit Border looks at Haitians
stranded on the border between Dominican Republic and Haiti are seen,
in Djabon, Dominican Republic, 07 January 2013.
Sofia News Agency
In response to this ruling the DR government passed The Naturalization Law (169-14). This Law states that anyone born in the DR to Haitian parents since 1929 is no longer automatically a DR citizen, but creates some pathways to legal residence. This process rendered approximately 250,000 Dominicans of Haitian descent stateless.

The retroactive stripping of citizenship created chaos. International condemnation of these rulings argued that the retroactive application of 168/13 is arbitrary deprivation of the right to nationality, in violation of Article 20 of the American Convention on Human Rights, Article 15 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and Article 24(3), together with Articles 2 and 26 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR).

After international outrage the DR created the Plan Nacional de Regularización de Extranjeros (National Regulation Plan for Foreigners) in November 2013, so that those born in the country to undocumented Haitian parents could apply for foreign resident status and after two years apply for naturalization. While over 250,000 have taken up this opportunity, many have not, fearing that identifying themselves as foreign residents will merely speed up their deportation to Haiti. Some are also excluded from this process because they do not have official documentation to prove their status.

Stripping the rights of those born in the DR but of Haitian descent has also reverberated through the large population of Haitian migrants in the country.  To address this population’s status the DR stated that Haitians living in the country who could  both prove their identity and prove that they arrived in the DR before October 2011 were eligible to apply for residency. There are an estimated 460,000  Haitian migrants in the DR. This option for migrants who have lived in the DR to claim residency has also been difficult for many to pursue, since securing the necessary documentation to prove their status and time of arrival is complicated, in part because many of the Dominicans who employed Haitians are unwilling to officially admit to this fact.

While some DR officials have tried to calm people’s fears about imminent deportations, The Guardian reported ( that  that the country’s director of migration had told the local press that 2,000 police and military officers and 150 inspectors had received special training for deportations. In the first quarter of 2015 the DR reportedly deported 40,000 people to Haiti under operation Shield. The very name shield indicates that the DR has invoked national security as the justification for these expulsions.

Haitians at the border between Haiti and the Dominican Republic,
Source: Creative Commons

In our book we examine how this discourse of securitization has stripped people of their rights and how it operates not only on the borders of states, but also from deep within the social fabric of the nation: Resolution 168/13 also illustrates another assertion our book offers, that we are increasingly witnessing the creation of differentially protected subjects under conditions of increased mobility and displacement.

It is absolutely no surprise that people will seek out refuge and livelihood opportunities outside of Haiti: their immediate neighbour on the island of Hispaniola offers an obvious option. Haiti’s relationship with DR is certainly tumultuous, but communities of Dominican and Haitian ancestry have successfully lived together for decades. Despite this co-existence, xenophobic hatred is already occurring against those who look Haitian: in February 2015 a young black man was lynched and left hanging in a tree in Santiago.

The DR and Haiti share the Island of Hispaniola, the site of the first European settlement in the Americas. After Columbus landed there the indigenous Taino populations were massacred or died of disease, and by 1503 the colony was importing African slaves. Slaves achieved independence from their then French rulers in 1804, but international boycotts by the US and Europe forced Haiti to pay reparations to its former French enslavers.

The Dominican war of Independence in 1844 secured the independence of Dominicans (a Spanish term referencing those from Santo Domingo) from Haitian rule, and subsequent years saw numerous conflicts between Haiti and the DR. Part of the justification some DR residents offer to support the current deportations of those of Haitian ancestry emerges from a discourse of anxiety linked to the nineteenth century history of Haitian dominance across the island.

This case thus illustrates many of the arguments we make in The Human Right to Citizenship about how citizenship is a slippery concept that reflects national narratives and how the right to citizenship can be subjected to reconstruction through legislative whim. The history of the Island of Hispaniola offers some guidance as to why hundreds of thousands of Dominicans of Haitian descent can be so easily stripped of their citizenship rights. But the responsibility of the state to protect the human rights of those who reside within their boundaries must now be the focus.  

Haiti is already declaring it will face a humanitarian crisis if the deportations continue.  This tinderbox has been created by the DR, and the international community and civil society groups within the DR will have to find ways to manage the devastation it is creating.  

Tuesday, 7 July 2015

Book Announcement: The Human Right to Citizenship

Book Announcement: The Human Right to Citizenship
Below is the text of the announcement for my latest book, The Human Right to Citizenship: A Slippery Concept, (University of Pennsylvania Press), co-edited with my wonderful colleague at the Balsillie School of International Affairs, Margaret Walton-Roberts. I would like to thank Margaret and all the authors for all the work they did to produce this book. I’ve long been interested in the problem of statelessness in particular, so it was nice to be able to produce an academic work on the subject. Helmut Hassmann, the stateless individual quoted in the beginning of my introduction to the book, is of course my father, whose memoir I posted on this blog on October 20, 2014, see
Go to next page for the book: I couldn’t figure out how to position it.

Now Available from Penn Press

The Human Right to CitizenshipThe Human Right to Citizenship: A Slippery Concept
Rhoda E. Howard-Hassmann and Margaret Walton-Roberts, Editors

"An empirically rich, diverse, and informative contribution to sociological citizenship studies."—Karolina S. Follis, Lancaster University

The Human Right to Citizenship provides an accessible overview of citizenship around the globe, focusing on empirical cases of denied or weakened legal rights. This wide-ranging volume provides a theoretical framework to understand the particular ambiguities, paradoxes, and evolutions of citizenship regimes in the twenty-first century.

Full Description, Table of Contents, and More

328 pages | 6 x 9 | 5 illus.
Hardcover | ISBN 978-0-8122-4717-6 | $65.00s | £42.50
Ebook | ISBN 978-0-8122-9142-1 | $65.00s | £42.50
A volume in the Pennsylvania Studies in Human Rights series

The Human Right to Citizenship provides an accessible overview of citizenship regimes around the globe, focusing on empirical cases of denied or weakened legal rights. Exploring the legal and social implications of specific national contexts, contributors examine the status of labor migrants in the United States and Canada, the changing definition of citizen­ship in Nigeria, Germany, India, and Brazil, and the rights of ethnic groups including Palestinians, Rohingya refugees in Bangladesh, Bangladeshi migrants to India, and Roma in Europe. Other chapters consider children’s rights to citizenship, multiple citizenships, and unwanted citizenships. With a broad geographical scope, this volume provides a wide-ranging theoretical and legal framework to understand the particular ambiguities, paradoxes, and evolutions of citizenship regimes in the twenty-first century.

Contributors: Michal Baer, Kristy A. Belton, Jacqueline Bhabha, Thomas Faist, Jenna Hennebry, Nancy Hiemstra, Rhoda E. Howard-Hassmann, Audrey Macklin, Margareta Matache, Janet McLaughlin, Carolina Moulin, Alison Mountz, Helen O’Nions, Chidi Anselm Odinkalu, Sujata Ramachandran, Kim Rygiel, Nasir Uddin, Margaret Walton-Roberts, David S. Weissbrodt.

Rhoda E. Howard-Hassmann is Canada Research Chair in International Human Rights at Wilfrid Laurier University and the Balsillie School of International Affairs. She is author of Reparations to Africa and coeditor of Economic Rights in Canada and the United States and The Age of Apology: Facing Up to the Past, all available from the University of Pennsylvania Press.

Margaret Walton-Roberts is Associate Professor in Geography and Environmental Studies at Wilfrid Laurier University and the Balsillie School of International Affairs. She is coauthor of Cultural Geography: Environments, Landscapes, Identities, Inequalities and coeditor of Territoriality and Migration in the E.U. Neighbourhood: Spilling over the Wall.

B Jun 2015 | 288 | 6 x 9

Monday, 15 June 2015

Cultural Genocide of Canada's Aboriginal People

Cultural Genocide of Canada’s Aboriginal People

Recently two events occurred that once again spurred discussion in Canada about its relations to its Aboriginal population.

On May 28, 2015, Chief Justice Beverley McLachlin of Canada’s Supreme Court delivered a speech in which she made explicit reference to Canada’s cultural genocide of its Aboriginal peoples. I am sure many people were surprised by this speech, and some may have speculated that in her position Chief Justice McLachlin should not have used such a phrase. On June 2, 2015, Justice Murray Sinclair released the report of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that has been exploring the terrible abuses of Aboriginal children in residential schools from  the late 19th to the late 20th century. He, too, used the phrase, “cultural genocide.”

Twenty-five years ago I wrote a draft of an article arguing that Canada’s treatment of aboriginal people did indeed constitute cultural genocide. Alas, I’ve lost that draft. But I think I was right to use the term then, and it’s right to use it now.

Chief Justice Beverly McLachlin, wiki commons
Cultural genocide is not a legal term, even though Raphael Lemkin, the Polish legal scholar who invented the term “genocide,” did include destruction of cultures in his list of genocidal activities. Destruction of culture disappeared from the 1948 United Nations Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, possible because European colonial powers were afraid they might be accused of it.

But this is what we’ve done to Canada’s Aboriginal peoples. The current discussion focuses on cultural genocide in the residential schools that some 150,000 Aboriginal children were forced to attend. Children there had their hair shorn, were forced to wear European dress, and were forbidden to speak their own languages. They were also taught “useful” skills (domestic service for girls, farming for boys) that might permit them to obtain employment with Euro-Canadians, but did not learn the skills necessary to maintain their traditional way of life. On top of this, these aboriginal children endured severe physical and sexual abuse, often imposed by the very church officials who were supposed to care for them.

One might argue that a lot of what happened to Aboriginal children was typical of what happened to anyone living in total institutions; that is, institutions where officials have total control over the inmates’ lives. Certainly, for the last forty years there has been story after story in Canada about abuse in orphanages, mental hospitals, home for the developmentally disabled, and so on. As in the residential schools, much of this abuse was by church officials. 

Justice Murry Sinclair, wiki commons 
The difference is that only a small percentage of the general population lived in these total institutions. Even though many inmates were abused in ways that make the skin crawl nowadays, the entire culture of the general population—let’s say “Euro-Canadians”—was not at risk. Plenty of other Euro-Canadians lived outside these institutions and passed on their cultures to their children. By contrast, large percentages of Aboriginal Canadians were forced into residential schools. By the time they came out, many were psychologically damaged as well as disconnected from their roots, and were unable to enjoy or pass on their cultures.  

More than that, cultural genocide is not merely a consequences of the residential schools on which the Truth and Reconciliation Commission focused.  Aboriginal cultures are closely connected to their land base. Without committing physical genocide of Aboriginal peoples, the British and Canadian governments over the decades removed more and more cultural groups from their lands. As Chief Justice McLachlin pointed out, Canada also prohibited some Aboriginal customs, and Christian missionaries did their best to persuade Aboriginals that their traditional spiritual beliefs were wrong and backwards. 

So far Canada hasn’t done much to “reconcile” with its Aboriginal population. Prime Minister Stephen Harper was forced to issue an apology in 2008, but it hasn’t helped much (for more information on this, go to my website, The federal government still provides only about half the amount of dollars per child for schools on Aboriginal reserves compared to provincial funding. A disproportionately high percentage of Aboriginals ends up in jail. Aboriginal people don’t even get enough food, in this land of plenty, as I’ve pointed out in a previous post on April 4, 2014.  
Qu'Appelle Indian Industrial School in Lebret, Saskatchewan ca. 1885, wiki commons

And no one has even figured out how to stop the abduction of women and girls who  have disappeared when hitchhiking along the “highway of tears” between Prince George and Prince Rupert in British Columbia. I asked a friend who used to work in the Department of Indian Affairs why they didn’t just start a bus service that these women and girls could use, and she said it wasn’t their jurisdiction, the province would have to do it. So why doesn’t it?

If I were an Aboriginal person, I wouldn’t be interested in “reconciling” with the rest of Canada unless significant reforms were implemented first. There’s a 2005 United Nations document called, Basic principles and Guidelines on the Right to a Remedy and Reparations for Victims of Gross Violations of International Human Rights Law and Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law. These principles provide for reparations to groups, defined as “persons who are targeted collectively”. Although they aren’t meant to be retroactive to centuries of colonial policies, they present a sense of what true reconciliation entails, including “restitution, compensation, rehabilitation, satisfaction, and guarantees of non-repetition.” 

Canada has compensated some individuals for their stays in residential schools and the abuse they suffered. Also, after several decades of court challenges, some Aboriginal groups have control over their lands. In general, the law is more generous to Aboriginals than the federal and provincial governments have been.  But there’s still far more to be done.   

 Apologies aren’t enough; either is the truth. Any Aboriginal individual willing to reconcile with the rest of Canada at this stage in history is a very generous person.

Friday, 15 May 2015

Selma: An Illustration of the Interdependence of Human Rights

Selma: An Illustration of the Interdependence of Human Rights

Last week I watched the film, Selma, about the famous Selma to Montgomery (Alabama) march in 1964 to support the voting rights of African-Americans in the US South. I am not sure how historically accurate the film is, but it illustrates the interdependence of civil and political human rights with economic human rights. One economic human right is the right to food, which is a human right under the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights (article 25) and the 1976 International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (article 11).

The film opens with a middle-aged black woman (played by Oprah Winfrey) trying to register to vote. At the time, it was legal for the officials who registered voters to ask citizens any questions they wanted to make sure they were literate. These officials were all white, and they asked black people very hard questions.  In the film, the official first asks the Oprah character to recite the Preamble to the US Constitution.  When she does that, he asks how many judges there are in the state. She answers correctly, so then he asks for their names. She can’t answer that, so he denies her the right to vote.

The Reverend Martin Luther King was the leader of the non-violent civil rights movement.  He led a campaign against racial segregation and for the right to vote.  In the movie, King (played by the British actor David Oyelowo) meets President Lyndon B. Johnson (played by Tom Wilkinson). In reality, Johnson had taken over as President after John F. Kennedy was assassinated. He wanted to end discriminatory voting practices but he had to figure out a way to get Southern white support. He also declared what he called a War on Poverty. 

During the meeting, King asks for federal support so that the peaceful Selma to Montgomery march can take place. Johnson replies that he is too busy fighting poverty and the vote can wait. King leaves without the support he wanted.

This reminded me of the debate in the 1960s and 70s about whether political freedom was just a luxury, when so many people were starving. One of the people who argued that freedom was a luxury was Julius Nyerere, the first President of newly-independent Tanzania in Africa.  Here’s what he said in 1969:

“What freedom has our subsistence farmer? He scratches a bare living from the soils provided the rains do not fail; his children work at his side without schooling, medical care, or even good feeding.…Only as his poverty is reduced will his existing political freedom become properly meaningful.. .”

Julius Nyerere. wiki commons
While Nyerere might honestly have believed that political freedom could be ignored until poverty was overcome, his own policies proved him wrong. Between 1973 and 1976 he instituted a policy called “villagization,” moving about five million peasants who had been scattered across the countryside into centralized villages where they could have access to schools, clinics, and other services. The peasants were not consulted and villagization was often arbitrary and brutal. Peasants were moved to areas where the soil was unsuitable for the crops they were supposed to cultivate and there was not enough water. Nor could they protest against their arbitrary removals from their original homesteads, as Tanzania’s one-party state did not permit freedom of speech, assembly, or the press. So they ended up without either freedom or food.

I wrote about this back in 1983 in an article entitled “The Full-Belly Thesis: Should Economic Rights Take Priority over Civil and Political Rights? Evidence from Sub-Saharan Africa”, published in Human Rights Quarterly, vol.5, no.4, pp. 467-490.  You can find that article here: The full-belly thesis was Nyerere’s argument, that you don’t need freedom when you can’t eat. My evidence showed me that if people could not protest their government’s actions, like the actions that Nyerere took in Tanzania, they would not have the right to food. They would be dependent on a leader who might or might not protect their access to food, but if he did not, they would not be able to protest his policies.

This is what Martin Luther King knew. If African-Americans could not vote, then at best they were dependent on the benign policies of their rulers and employers. They had no political clout (like the on-reserve Canadian Aboriginals who, similarly, were not allowed to vote until 1960).  Somewhere in the movie there’s a brief scene where one of King’s allies asks if maybe Johnson was right, and they should fight poverty first.  But the key to all “economic” rights (food, housing, education, health) is political clout. That’s what makes it a right, not just something nice that your rulers might or might not grant you.