Bear with me

Hi, there!

I am tossing around an idea for a short (12-15 pg) paper. The class is International Development with Cross-Cultural Perspectives. The professor is an Anthropologist and focuses on the Andes (como yo!). In hopes of clarifying what I want to do, I'm testing it out in writing. Right here. For the first time. For you. Lucky you.

What's the deal? I want to write about incorporating culture into legal frameworks, national policy/procedure, and official government documents. For example, last year, Bolivia had a referendum to amend its constitution. A referendum is a direct electoral vote (one person, one vote) to determine whatever issues are brought up. In that election, the people voted to amend the definition of "property." Rejecting the old notion of property as a right held by an individual, Bolivia's constitution now defines property as a right to land held communal or by a collective group. Felicitaciones!

What does that mean for indigenous peoples of Bolivia? It means that indigenous people feel like their constitution represents them. Their government - finally - recognizes their way of living, their connection to the land, and the way they use the land as legitimate. Not only is there acknowledgment and understanding of the way indigenous peoples have lived for hundreds of years, there is an enforceable, legal mechanisms for indigenous people to continue living as they want in relation to their land. That is pretty darn cool.

What does that mean for Bolivia, the nation as a whole? It means good things and also opens up an unknown that could be potentially good or bad. The good is that there is democratic representation. It's good that by a democratic, majority vote, the people are getting what they want. It's good that there is greater unity in Bolivia - at least nominally - in that indigenous people feel included, acknowledged and represented by their government's guiding official document, legal mechanisms and official decree of the nation. It is also good that indigenous people can live the way that they want to and have lived previously for hundreds of years. Equally, just as people may exercise their right to hold property right individually, now people are also free to hold property rights collectively. Perhaps there is true unity in that each is allowed to live her life as she would like.

The unknown/bad: Perhaps unity is only a farce because the new definition inevitably affects more than just indigenous people. National policy and law affects a nation, even if some are affected on indirectly. Perhaps, in practice, collective property becomes an impossible mess. Look at what happened to American Indians who share parts/plots/the whole of reservations. Present possession and future interests get ridiculously difficult to determine and parse out. Even worse, the economic and material interests connected to land are quite complex when they are communally owned. Consider the added complication that much indigenous land is on natural resources like oil. Consider the added complication that oil and gas industries were seized by the Bolivian government -- nationalized -- in 2006. Opa. Problems abound or am I being too pessimistic?

What does it mean for other indigenous groups or people who want their culture to be reflected in the national definition of property? This decision may not much or set a precedent for other indigenous groups looking to get legal right and recognition to collective property. Here are some reasons I think this: Bolivia has indigenous president. The indigenous group (unlike most places) actually makes up the majority of the country, not the minority. In conjunction with the way the referendum was set up, this meant majority actually had the chance to put forth its agenda. But, not all democracies have constitutional amendment by referendum. In the U.S., for example, we don't hold a popular vote. The Constitution can only be amended in one of three ways:

• The new amendment may be approved by two-thirds of both houses of Congress, then sent to the states for approval.
• Two-thirds of the state legislatures may apply to Congress for a constitutional convention to consider amendments, which are then sent to the states for approval.
• Congress may require ratification by special convention

The point is, lots of things had to fall into place at the same time in order to integrate the indigenous culture into the mainstream government policy, written documents, and law. It's not likely that these factors will all come together for other indigenous groups.

The larger point, though, is that in theory it sounds good to integrate the indigenous culture into the national constitution. But, I think we need to be wary. I only hope that in practice, the economic and social consequences are positive for both the indigenous groups and the non-indigenous Bolivians. I suppose only time will tell -- I'll be watching.

Como uno quiere a su bandera...

After the Iranian revolution, roughly 1980, the country put together a new flag to symbolize a new, reunited country. The new Iranian flag was Green, White and Red. Green symbolizes fertility and (ironically?) Islam. White symbolizes purity and peace. Red symbolizes the martyrs' blood. In the center, a red emblem symbolized various parts of Islamic life: Allah, the Book, the Sword, the five principles of Islam, balance, unity, neutrality, and the universal government of the downtrodden. So, we have a flag for 30 years that signifies an Iran moving toward strong democracy, unified social people, and modern integration of religion into civil society.

June 2009: Iran holds elections that are, arguably, a farce. President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad declared himself the winner and Candidate Mirhossein Mousavi appealed the election. The young, educated Iranian community and the international community (not the U.S.) stands behind Mousavi. Demonstrations and rallies emerge around the world. Green - from the stripe of the flag - was the chosen symbol of the opposition to Ahmadinejad. Mousavi drops the charge, accepts Ahmadinejad's reelection. The U.S. is happy that there is a continued pillar of "democracy" in the Middle East. The world moves on.

January 2010: President Ahmadinejad holds a run-of-the-mill official ceremony. The flag behind him is Blue, White and Red. Or, shall we say, Red, White and Blue (oh wait, isn't the U.S. of A. flag Red, White and Blue?).

Does erasing the green mean that Iran erased the opposition, or wants to, anyway? Ironically, didn't the green in the flag also symbolize Islam? Did Iran erase Islam, too? Flags symbolize so much to so many people: love for one's nation, fellow compatriots, and own happiness in life. Can a president just 'decide' to change the nation's flag on his own whim? How old are we anyway? It reminds me of how I used to change my shirt if my sister happened to be wearing a shirt with the same color -- or a color even remotely close on the spectrum -- for school that day.

At the very least, I think it's clear that Iran is less than stable these days. I believe: if we don't get to the root of the problem before moving on to fix it and rebuild on top of it, the problem will surface again. Is it possible that the time it takes The Problem to get to The Surface is about ... 30 years?

Imperialism & the Underdeveloped Colony/Post-Colonial State

In response to my readings this week for my class, Politics of Development...

As an outgrowth of Western thought and imperialism, development work historically has been structured to integrate states into the global economy (Wallerstein, Galtung). Overall development has been considered "successful" when colonial/post-colonial states interact and thrive within the global economy. However, integration into a world economy inevitably leads to some cases of underdevelopment because the system’s structure is based on being economically viable and competitive: some states will “win” (have more desirable products, cheaper prices, etc.) and other states necessarily will “lose” (have fewer and less-useful products, higher prices, etc.) (Wallerstein, Galtung). Development’s goal of integration into a fixed economic structure such that some must fail when others succeed undeniably leads to underdevelopment.

Notably, this structure of economic-focused development ignores, or even worse, impoverishes, other crucial areas of states. For example, Escobar discusses the inattention to culture in development. Escobar argues that there should be a return of local culture and context-specificity in critical analysis of development. Further, he argues that anthropologists should consider effects on culture when looking at how development occurred. Similarly, Thiong’o shows how the post-colonial infusion of English disintegrated African language and culture. In fact, as evident in theatrical, lyrical and written artistic works, the imperialism influence over the choice of language itself also extended to change the concepts expressed through language. In sum, development has focused on economic gains and integration in the global market, not on cultural contexts or social progression.

I think development must be concerned economics, and, further, that economic development must be a main concern. However, even while focusing on economics, the structure of development also should be and can be changed to include culture. Elaborating on ideas from the readings, I posit two ways to integrate culture into the structure of development. First, culture must be integrated in how developers work with people in developing nations. This may be done by having developers speak the language of the region being developed (Thiong’o, Galtung) and creating “horizontalization” by involving domestic associations that are organized around cultural communities (Galtung). A third way is to have a “go-between” country (Galtung). While this will not promote the culture of the developing nation, it will minimize the degree of imperialism of the dominant culture.

Second, culture must be integrated in the actual work that the developers produce. The idea is to begin with cultural values and to add creativity in order to develop products that will be competitive in the world-economy. Taking advantage of local culture and geographies (Wallerstein), can lead to innovation. Creating new culturally influenced products for sale on the global market is particularly important for nations whose marketable resources are finite, not part of global demand, or unavailable due to poor infrastructure or high distribution costs (Galtung).

While it is easy to theorize of culture combined with creativity resulting in new economically competitive products, how exactly can development workers induce this sort of innovation? Further, underdevelopment would subsist, despite economic development, if resources do not reach through the nation. Thus, what political development needs to occur in order to ensure that the economic profits are distributed for the benefit of the whole nation-state? Finally, how can we separate the use of professional international work languages from eroding the use of local, native languages?

Call it what it is

In my best interest, I am going to try to write more about my "professional" thoughts. Part of why I started this blog was to explain concepts I struggle to understand as a way both to make myself figure it out and to make myself be able to explain it in "real people" terms. So! Here is a thought I have been wrestling with this week from my first class of Introduction to Human Rights.

Human rights are a way to organize society. We know -- have come to agree -- that the fairest, most moral way to organize society is by guaranteeing all people equal opportunity and enjoyment to some 50-odd human rights. A system of implementing, enforcing, and upholding these human rights creates rules for ourselves that do not just give order and expectation. The rules also will produce the maximum happiness for each individual and for the totality of humanity.

That human rights exist is a fairly well-accepted notion around the world. Most international organizations, countries and individuals accept that there are certain entitlements due to all humans by virtue of the fact that they are human.

What human rights exist is also well-settled. People, states, international organizations all pretty much accept the human rights that are laid out in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. For example, everyone has the rights to life, liberty, security of person, education, health, and the right to work. Other rights that I particularly endorse are that everyone has the rights to freedom of thought, conscience and religion. While it is a declaration (non-binding), not a treaty (binding on its signatories), the document truly does serve as a foundation for accepted international norms.

So we know human rights exist and we know what they are. The problem comes in figuring out if an action is in accordance with, implements, or enforces what we know are human rights. Context without content.

The issue (finally!) I was trying to understand is why people try to add an extra label to each human right. People like to classify each human right as a particular type: "civil/political," "economic," "self-determination," or "social/cultural." First, I hate this added layer of linguistic fluff. Using different words can be a way to avoid enforcement. If a law upholds the "human right" to leisure time, but someone's case argues for their "economic right" to leisure time, then the law does not apply. Call it what it is.

Second, we run into this problem where now we're not sure if these new classifications become their own single-standing human rights, or if they are sub-categories under the overarching category of "human right." Should we forget about the "human" part and just start calling them "social," "economic," "political" rights? Take, for example, what is going on with indigenous rights. Are those human rights? Are they socio-cultural rights? They also involve civil/political and economic issues, so maybe they are "political" or "economic" rights. Or, maybe indigenous rights are a sui generis framework of rights wholly apart from human rights. Unclear, people, unclear! If we didn't have the stupid classifications, we wouldn't have these linguistic ambiguities that actually cause conceptual ambiguity (weird that sometimes words that come after a thought can "go back" and change what the thought was in the first place). Call it what it is.

Finally, I find these distinctions to be a wholly arbitrary farce. The example given in class was that the right to healthcare is an economic right. Never in a million years would I have first classified healthcare as a right that has to do with money. How is it that my right as a human to have a physically healthy body and sound mind can be classified -- and classified solely -- as a monetary issue? Certainly, in the United States, anyway, healthcare has come to be intertwined with financial concerns both on the part of the individual (access) and the state (burden). But, I do not think that is the essence of the right.

What about the right to refuse healthcare? Or communities that don't use money? Or communities whose Shaman or Medicine Man doesn't charge money? Or a group of peoples whose cultural values deem "healthcare" to be something wholly different from the Western conception of "cure" -- an Eskimo peoples believe the highest form of respect to an ailing elder is to kill them before their honorable life degenerates. My point is, why don't we call human rights by the names that they already have? Rather than presupposing what content must fill the context by using our Western, artificial classifications, we should call it what it is.

First Day of School!

Back in Grad classes! I just had two classes today. The first was better than the second.

First, Jack Donnelly's Intro to Human Rights. That guy is a riot. He does this weird pretzel thing with his legs under his desk, makes dry jokes as he runs out of breath, and breezes his hand (pinkie ring and all) through his white hair while talking. But, boy, is he brilliant. I had him for Int'l Political Theory last summer and basically hung on his every word. I'm looking forward to this class, too!

Here is the quick question I asked him after class. The basic concept of today that Donnelly lectured on is that while human rights norms are accepted pretty much across the board on the international level, the enforcement and implementation of human rights is done on a national level. In other words, all countries basically agree what are human rights, but not all countries believe they are improperly enforcing/implementing those human rights in their country to their citizens. So, I asked if this base premise (that nations enforce human rights) presupposes another "human right," the right to belong to a nation. Basically, this "human right" would be less of a universal right conferred from the fact that a being is human. Rather, it would be actually be a precursor to exercising one's human right that is due only because of our social-political constructs, namely, the way we have organized the world to be full of countries that have (1) territory and (2) sovereignty. Donnelly seemed pretty interested in this idea. He said that it was one of the weakest areas of human rights theory because it's unclear which takes precedent -- state territorial sovereignty or individual human rights -- and because not all people have membership to a state (refugees, asylum status immigrants, etc.) . True, true. Those reasons are what motivated me to ask the question in the first place. While I am interested in the strength (analytical logic) of the human rights theory, I actually was most curious about indigenous and minority groups that had/want their own territory, self-determination and self-governance within the dominant state.

Call me a groupie, but I am also going to audit Donnelly's other class - Ancient Political Theory.

Second class is Politics of Development. I was not as impressed. We watched some video clips, had some power points that made vast generalizations under poor logic. Worst of all, the professor posed some pretty scattered and unimpressive (hackneyed) questions in an attempt to generate discussion. Meh. We'll see how that goes.

Also - I applied to 13 internships today! Pick me, pick me! Must. Sleep. Now.

Razas

This post won't be what I want to be, but at least I am writing something.

A few weeks ago I was reading in a cafe here in Denver as the sun set in front of me and behind the mountains. My hair kept falling in my face. While still reading, I pulled my hair into a braid without thinking. I could tell a little baby girl behind me was watching me because I heard her father say Mira la raza, or, Look at her braid. I loved being a part of that moment for so many reasons and I keep playing it over in my mind.

Braids always remind me of the time I have spent living in the Andes. All of our girls, the mothers of our girls, and the professors at their schools wore braids. I often braided my own hair, but if I didn't the girls would do it for me, teaching me new patterns. In a place where I often stood apart, I loved that from behind I would blend in with everyone else: a thick, dark braid hanging down by back, wisps falling out in the wind. The moment here in Denver seemed even more connected to the Andes because I was watching the sun set over the Rockies, which are essentially the same mountains, just further along the fault.

It amazes me that this perfectly simple and practical, yet undeniably beautiful, thing can stand for femininity across cultures and time. How is it that all women and girls around the world just innately know how to braid their hair? Is it in the same category of universals as innate language, emotions, or grammatical syntax? Do men know how to do it? Of course there are so many ways to braid -- Americans braid with the weave coming in toward the center, Andeans braid with the weave coming out of the center, a heart-braid, a french braid, a four-strand braid. I can't help but feel an unspoken connection to another women I see wearing a braid because I know that we both stood that morning with our arms bent behind us, mindlessly twisting our hair into this raza.

I also love the symbolism of the word in Spanish. Raza. The word raza means both braid and race. To me that shows the concept that races should mix and feel comfortable intertwining, like a braid. The three strands of a braid are each interconnected and truly need the other strands in order to stay in place. Maybe I am too optimistic, but I like to think that interracial mixing could be as simple and natural as weaving a braid.