The Argentine lesson of the Matanza-Riachuelo River: the need to change perspective to protect the environment

In our previous two articles we discussed LGBTQ+ rights in Kenya and the human rights violations taking place insidethe Kakuma refugee camp. Carrying on the investigation that Large Movements APS is conducting together with International Support Human Rights, in this in-depth section we will try to analyze the specific situation of J., the fictitious name of one of Kakuma’s gay guests, with whom we had the opportunity to speak. Like so many others living in Kakuma, J. left his Home Country because of the discrimination he suffered from friendsand family because of his homosexuality. He sought for refuge in neighboring Kenya.                        Hope and a desire for freedom accompanied him along his journey, but the reality of things turned out to be much starker and harsher than he couldhave imagined. The testimony of J. During the interview, J. frequently used the words contained in the so-called “Word Cloud” depicted below. The mostvisible words are those that J. used most frequently during the interview. As we can easily see, these words give us a particularly bitter picture of the stark reality that J. and the other LGBTQ+guests of Kakuma are forced to endure: Arrival in Kakuma. J. is a Ugandan citizen who was forced to flee his Country because he suffered violence from friends, family members, and from the national government because of his homosexuality. He thus fled to Kenya andarrived in Kakuma on March 3, 2020. Once there, the camp administration confiscated his passport and national ID card, which, to date, have not been returned to him. Thereafter, he remained in the first reception area for 20 days and was later transferred into the inner areas of the camp. Starting from the reception area, J. recounts receiving his first death threats from other refugees. These had scared him so much that he still remembers the great fear he felt when he was transferred to the inner areas ofKakuma camp with the rest of the guests. The fire and the first violence. On April 13, the house he was staying in was set on fire, and after passing out from the smoke, J. was taken to the camp hospital by the Police the next day. There he had been harassed by the hospital staff, who claimed that no burning would have occurred if LGBTQ+ people did not live in Kakuma. The day after the incident, members of the UNHCR and Kenyan government staff went to the site to assess the situation, assuring J. thatthey would take action against those responsible as soon as possible. To date, J. is still awaiting updates about the statusof the investigation. A few weeks later, the interviewee continued, while he and some of his companions were collecting water, they wereattacked and beaten by some Ethiopian nationals who were guests at the camp as well. The attackers claimed that Kakuma’s homosexual guests could not drink their own water, otherwise they would contaminate it. Again, J. reportedthe attack to the camp Police, who assured him they would start investigations and call back all the victims of the attack later to collect their testimonies. Once they went to the camp Police again, however, the victims were asked to removetheir shoes and were forced to spend the night in their cells. The next morning, they were taken to the Kakuma Police Station, where the officers called them faggots in front of the other inmates. This exposed them to even further danger, since they were forced to stay – without being given any reason for this – for three days in a cell with  potentiallyhomophobic people, to whom their homosexuality had been revealed. After returning to the camp, J. and others continued to report new cases of assault, always receiving the same response: since there are not enough evidence to support what the victims report, no formal action can be taken by the Kenyanpolice or UNHCR staff in Kakuma. The attacks continue, but no one listens. On April 27, 2020, J. and other LGBTQ+ people residing in Kakuma went to the UNHCR facility demanding protection, but their demands were described as “mere” unauthorized protests and as such not even examined. A short time after these events, J. and other members of the LGBTQ+ community in Kakuma suffered further attacks by camp residents. During these attacks, J. was wounded in the lower abdomen sustaininginjuries so severe that he urinated blood for many months. He was also severely injured in the arm, attacked with a machete while retrieving his phone from the camp’s charging area. As a result of those repressive attacks, J. continued,40 other people were taken to the hospital. On March 15, 2021, J. was attacked again with a petrol bomb during the night. He spent ten months in the hospital recovering from this attack, while being harassed from staff and receiving poor medical care – i.e. lack of covering his wounds to the point that his “legs started to rot.“ He was then transferred to a private facility in Nairobi, where his safetywas still not guaranteed because  both he and the other residents, were constantly threatened with the possibility of new future attacks because of their sexual orientation.  Of course, this whole situation was reported by J. to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) and the Kenyan authorities but no action has been taken so far to provide him with the protection he is entitled to. The awaiting. After the attacks, J. asked to be transferred to a more secure facility. He was then interviewed for the concession of the refugee status in February 2022. He is now waiting for the confirmation of his status. This procedure,which according to the Kenyan law should have taken a maximum of six months, is still on going with J. not having received any feedback so far.  Living conditions in Kakuma have proven to be harsh, to say the least, for J. and the other LGBTQ+ people in the camp. And because it is impossible for him to return to Uganda, where his sexuality would make it impossible for him to liveas a free man, resettlement is the best chance he has to conduct a new normal life, where he can not only live freely and safely, but also be useful to others and to society. Kenya report card To understand the weight of the interviewee’s testimony, it is necessary to analyze the Kenyan  LGBTQ+ rights situationand shed light on what is happening inside the Kakuma refugee camp. According to the Equaldex database, Kenya records an equality index – an experimental assessment of the degree of recognition and protection, in a given region, from a legal and social perspective of theLGBTQ+ community – of 25/100. Thus, a low acceptance and total tolerance is inferred, which in turn perfectly reflects the absence of recognizedcivil rights for the Kenyan LGBTQ+ community. The above finds direct exemplification within Freedom House’s annual report, where one can read that Kenya holds a score of 48/100, a rating that indicates the Country as partially free. Among the assets andindices taken into consideration, those relevant to our investigation are certainly the scores on political rights and civil liberties of the LGBTQ+community, with peculiar reference to refugees and asylum seekers. From the analysis, we find that policies and practices do not ensure equal treatment of various segments of thepopulation, thus making Kenyan society unequal and fragmented. Specifically, LGBTQ+ people remain cut off from the economic and social development machine and reports of policeabuse of refugees and asylum seekers continue. For example, we report that Somalis currently residing in Kenya are often subject to harsh government crackdowns because they are stereotypically considered simultaneously refugees and terrorists – a misconception exacerbated by Shabaab attacks in Kenya since 2010. In addition, refugees and asylum seekers from neighboring Countries, particularly children, are victims of sex trafficking and subject to al-forced labor. But what happens when members of the LGBTQ+ community and straight refugees and asylum seekers are housed together? And again, what happens when a migrant is LGBTQ+? The harshness of Kakuma. The answer to these questions can be found by analyzing the conditions in the Kakumarefugee camp. As already recounted during our first article dedicated to this topic, the camp is located in the Rift Valley, one of the most arid and isolated areas of the Country. Moreover, the living conditions inside the camps are well below any minimum standard of human dignity. For example, it is reported that pest infestations are frequent, food is scarce and sanitation facilities are collapsing. However, as J. reported, the already hostile conditions of those living in Kakuma are exacerbated if we focus on theportion of LGBTQ+ asylum seekers, forced to live with people from their own Countries of origin – primarily Ugandaand Somalia. This cohabitation exposes them to the same homophobic practices, the same violence and harassment that are very often the basis for their flight from their own Countries. These acts of violence and brutality are the “normality” inside Kakuma and all the victims we spoke to complained that they have no real protection from UNHCR, which oftenfails to respond to their requests for help and/or protection. Therefore, many LGBTQ+ applicants and refugees in Kakuma have decided to live out of shacks, sleeping in the open to protect each other and even on the streets of Nairobi, which are considered safer than their assigned housing. Light at the end of the tunnel. Although the road to full acceptance is still long

The darkness of the forest freezes the hearts while the icy winter wind kills. Thousands of people are running through the forest, dogs bark in the distance and voices shout in a language they do not know. There is no light in the forest at night, there is no path to follow, one cannot see out of the palm of one’s nose. Hundreds of people hold their hands to navigate and above all to not get lost. Their final destination? Poland, the first European country on their route. This is not an adventurous film, this is not Rambo or the Hunger Games, but reality, this is what is happening on the border between Belarus, Poland and Lithuania. Thousands of people have been escorted to the border by Lukashenko’s government, where they have been left to their own devices, pushed towards Poland on the one hand, pushed back outside the European borders on the other. According to Poland, Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko is deliberately provoking a new refugee crisis in Europe by organising the movement of migrants from the Middle East to Minsk, promising them safe passage to Europe, as revenge for the sanctions imposed by Brussels on the authoritarian regime. The prime minister then decided to stage a reprisal made up of the bodies of men, women and children. Thousands of refugees and asylum seekers were pushed out of Minsk, transported to the Polish border where they were used as perfect pawns of a sick game. At the border, all these individuals were left to their own devices, to navigate their way through the dense northern European forest in search of a way to cross the border. The Polish government, however, decided to respond with extreme violence to this war of bodies rather than weapons. Some 20,000 Polish border guards, assisted by the army, have been deployed on the frontier in a show of force alien to the country since the end of the cold war. The forces patrol the border, which is covered by metres of barbed wire fences, to prevent anyone from crossing. In this way, they carry out rejections, like those implemented last year on the border between Bosnia and Croatia. Refugees huddled at the border are not only refused entry but also shelter from the freezing Polish winter. Hundreds of people, mothers, fathers, children can be seen sitting on the frozen ground, waiting for an OK from the police. Not even the humanitarian organisations that have been there, nor the Polish ones, such as Grupa Granica, a network of Polish NGOs active at the border since the beginning of the humanitarian crisis, have been granted access. A safe zone of three kilometres has been created where no one except police can enter. This means that the refugees have to walk through the forest for three kilometres before they can meet any organisation that can provide them with shelter, medical care, or even just basic necessities they might need. Added to this is the brutality of the border police who do not shy away from treating with violence any person who even tries to cross the border. Water cannons are violently directed at any person who even tries to approach the border, brutally throwing the harmless victims to the ground. Many people also suffer electrocution wounds to the neck, bruises from being kicked by guns, and cuts and bruises from being pushed over barbed wire fences, as Lorenzo Tondo’s article in The Guardian testifies. Thus, one wonders where are all those fundamental rights guaranteed to every individual that the European states signed up to in the Nice Charter. One wonders what has happened to that right in Article 18 of the same Charter, which guarantees the right to asylum, but also, and above all, all those rights, even above the European Union itself, which prohibit and protect against refoulement and rejections. One wonders what Europe, the homeland but also the mother of fundamental rights, is doing while it silently watches a humanitarian crisis unfold at its borders. We at Large Movement demand that the rights of women, men and children who find themselves stranded between the two borders are respected, that humanitarian organisations are allowed safe passage through the safe zone, that refugees are provided with humanitarian and legal assistance, but above all, that they are allowed to cross the border safely without being exposed to illegal violence, thus ensuring the respect of their fundamental rights. If you liked the article Share us!

The Southeastern Anatolian Project, better known as GAP (Güneydoğu Anadolu Projesi), is a network of infrastructures being built on the Tigris and Euphrates rivers with the dual function of generating electricity and providing irrigation systems for the surrounding area. Since the subject has already been analysed in Large Movements, the intention of this article is to integrate some elements by reading the project under three main lenses. The national dimension, linked to the energy dimension and to the role of the project in Turkish domestic politics. The international dimension, investigating the role of the European Union in promoting or limiting the development of the project. And finally, the local component by looking at the specific case of the Ilisu dam on the one hand, and the opposition movements against these projects on the other hand. This third component will be explored later. Project characteristics and its state of progress Although projects for the exploitation of the waters of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers have a history going back several decades, the GAP was launched only in 1989, not only as a plan for the exploitation of the resources of the two rivers, but as a real “project of integrated and multi-sectoral socio-economic development“. The project would therefore envisage the construction of 22 dams and 19 hydroelectric plants and irrigation systems (Figure 1), which should accompany the socio-economic development of the area in a context of strong economic and demographic growth. The commissioning of the Ataturk Dam in 1993 was followed by the construction of other infrastructures, the last of which was the Ilisu Dam inaugurated in 2020, the third largest of the entire project. Table 1 shows data from 2015 and it partially reconstructs the progress of the work. Cross-referencing this information with that provided by the official website the table reveals that at least ten plants are currently in operation. In this regard, it is necessary to highlight an important element with regard to the possibility of finding sources on the subject. After skimming through the main academic, official and popular sources, it is important to underline that data on production costs, funding, companies and more technical aspects of the projects themselves are only partially available for each individual infrastructure and are often extremely fragmented and not very up-to-date. If, on the one hand, the hypothesis of the language difference is certainly valid as a potential limitation for the retrieval of these data, on the other hand, it should be pointed out that government sources do not provide all the necessary information for an overall understanding of the project. Given this difficulty, the next article will examine the specific case of the Ilisu Dam to try to provide a more detailed picture. The role of hydropower in Turkey’s energy mix The Turkish government’s need to promote such an infrastructure network with such insistence is comes from energetic and economic interests, but also from geopolitical reasons, both domestically and internationally. The Euphrates River accounts for more than 19.4% of the national hydroelectric potential (433 GWh per year), while the Tigris corresponds to 11.2%. The GAP once completed should be able to exploit 27,419 GWh/y of this potential, or 10.9% of the annual electricity produced in Turkey in 2014. Comparing this information with the International Energy Agency’s 2019 data, Turkey relies on hydropower to generate about 30% of its electricity (Figure 2). The remainder is covered to a very large extent by natural gas and coal, two resources that are mainly imported from abroad and therefore strategically provide less security and stability. The full commissioning of the GAP would cover one third of this 30%, demonstrating its centrality in the economic development and political strategy of contemporary Turkey. Strengthening hydropower indirectly would mean partially decreasing the weight of natural gas and coal imports, thus reducing dependence on international players such as Russia, Azerbaijan and Iran. This would represent a significative step for a country which is seeking to establish itself as a hegemonic regional player. At the same time, the social and environmental effects would have repercussions on the local population in the area, made up mainly of Kurds, perceived as a threat by the central government. This would have the further aim of weakening, without the direct use of weapons, a resistance front that, especially since the outbreak of the war in Syria, has repeatedly been able to turn the spotlight on cases of military aggression and human rights violations. EU non-intervention To understand the role of the European powers in the realisation of the GAP, it is necessary to analyse the subject from two perspectives. On the one hand, there is the economic element, dictated above all by the desire to stimulate growth and development in the easternmost regions. On the other are the environmental and social factors. Although such projects are promoted as “clean energy” and sustainable infrastructure, the environmental and social effects are enormously destabilising. The construction of a large number of dams is producing large number of flooding and desertification, which not only have negative effects on the biodiversity of the area, but also on the people living there, who are often forced into mass migration. For the whole project, this would mean about 200,000 displaced people. Looking at the role played by the EU, everything should be read within a framework that has seen, at least until 2016, as a strong pressure from Turkey to be accepted as a member of the Union. The latter asked for a whole series of parameters both economic, social and environmental for the new member state. If we go back to the origin of the project, it was precisely in this direction, that negotiations were opened between the EU and the GAP Administration in 1996. During these negotiations, the EU decided to finance part of the “GAP Regional Development Programme” with 47 million euros, with a project aimed at “reducing inequalities, stimulating economic growth, and protecting the environmental and cultural heritage”. Later, the EU would allocate a further

In Peru, as in most Latin American societies, gender equality is obstructed by the so-called machismo. Although women can enjoy basic rights, such as the right to vote and to own property, there is a cultural and sociological factor in the structure of communities that hinders the emancipation of women in all areas of society. The phenomenon of machismo, which is widespread throughout the continent (but also in the rest of the world), is identifiable in the literacy rate, in the difficulty of access to the profession and to health care, and in the scarce political participation of Peruvian women; it is more present in the rural areas of the country.      In the countryside areas, where the social differences between the two genders are at their peak, machismo stereotypes penetrate the community consciousness much more than in the big cities. Indeed, most of the population associates women with the domestic sphere, assigning them, perhaps unconsciously, the role of mother and wife, thus depriving them of the right to choose their own destiny. From an early age, Peruvian girls lose their aspiration for a lifestyle different from the traditional one, and their school performance suffers. In smaller towns, it is extremely difficult to find a woman in a position of power, whether in a profession or in politics. The lack of examples to emulate reinforces the belief that women should be confined to the home, leaving only men to pursue a professional career.    Statista estimates, in 2021, Peru ranked 17th in the Gender Gap Index, out of 26 Latin American countries. We will now analyse Peruvian women’s access to the spheres of society, highlighting those in which machismo is predominant in violating gender equality. Education, profession and politics: analysing the gender gap In 2020, a World Bank survey in Peru recorded a 5 percentage point difference between male literacy (97%), and female literacy (92%) among the population over 15 years old. Both percentages, although still on the rise, have slowed in the last year of COVID-19 pandemic, when the population has been forced to forego education to cope with the resulting crisis. The gender gap is widest in rural areas and within indigenous communities speaking native languages. However, we assist to an improvement thanks to the reforms of customary laws in recent decades, which are opening up the professional world to new generations of women, thus encouraging them to continue their studies. Since the enactment of these reforms, the percentage of women’s participation in the labour force has also improved, reaching 70.6% last year, according to estimates by the International Labour Organization.Peru illustrates how legal reforms – especially when accompanied by declining fertility – can effectively drive increased female labour force participation and financial inclusion, also benefiting the country’s GDP. However, economic and cultural constraints continue to limit women’s professional opportunities. Although the country has one of the smallest gender gaps in Latin America in terms of access to employment, Peruvian women tend to be relegated to lower paid jobs such as nursing and teaching. What’s more, domestic responsibilities and family care needs further limit their work options. In 2015, women earned about 19% less than men in hourly earnings; a gap that widens further when we consider indigenous women. Indeed, in poor, rural and indigenous communities, typical jobs of the informal economy, made up of small and medium-sized family businesses, prevail (only 30% of these businesses are formal). This means that most women are in a position of extreme vulnerability to market risks. These women remain excluded from government policies to promote and protect women’s employment, and from the financial literacy needed to actually develop their businesses and/or bring them into the formal economy. Government figures show that 60 per cent of all women workers in the country continue to work in the informal economy, and only 15 per cent have health coverage, while only 4 per cent enjoy pension benefits. The country has a ninety-eight day maternity leave policy and other programmes to support working mothers, yet women working in the informal sector do not benefit.         Regarding the political situation, women gained the right to vote in Peru in 1955, one of the last countries in the Latin American region. Nevertheless, the country is making concrete progress for equal political representation through the promulgation of reforms that have made equality and alternation criteria mandatory since the general elections of 2021. It is since the approval of Law No. 31030 that presidential lists must have at least one woman or one man in their composition, placed alternately, with the aim of achieving a system of equal representation in composition and political agenda by 2031.            Currently there are several strategies used to monitor the implementation of the law and women’s participation. In this context, one of the tools is the Línea de Investigación de la Dirección Nacional de Educación y Formación Cívica Ciudadana (DNEF), which analyses information on electoral processes in order to improve its dissemination among citizens and the media, with the aim of influencing the strengthening of the political system and democracy.            According to a survey carried out last March by the DNEF, the last parliamentary elections saw the presence of 3 women out of 16 in the Andean Congress. The proportion has improved in recent years thanks to electoral quotas. However, it should be noted that the positions held by women on the electoral lists remain low. Women’s safety and health: the downside of the Gender Gap in Peru Violence against women is a worrying phenomenon in all Latin American countries. An increasing number of violent murders of women committed by men in the last two decades has forced Latin American countries to adopt specific measures to limit this phenomenon, especially after the Convention of Belém do Pará: among these, the inclusion of ‘feminicide’ as a specific aggravated crime in the various national legislations. Despite the difficulties in measuring and comparing the incidence of this type of crime in different countries, linked to the lack of capacity and the lack

Membership in Islam distinguishes approximately 25% of the current global population and is recognized as the state religion in numerous countries across the Middle East and North Africa. Similarly to Christianity, the Islamic faith often entails the subordination of women to men. The patriarchal religious framework takes on varying forms depending on the specific circumstances, leading to behaviors that may discriminate against or oppress women in the different regions where Islam is practiced. Given the recent Iran uprisings against the Islamic regime aimed at curbing violence against women, we believe it is crucial to provide an overview of the role of women within the Islamic religious context. This includes an examination of how such a role translates into norms and behaviors that suppress the freedoms that should rightfully be afforded to all women on their journey toward emancipation. The religion and the sources of Law A distinguishing factor between Islam and Christianity is that the sacred text – the Quran – is presently acknowledged as a legal source in countries where Shari’a (Islamic law) is upheld. The Islamic Republic of Iran, Afghanistan during the Taliban rule, and various other nations embrace Shari’a as a collection of affirmative legal principles, specifically combining Islamic law, state legislation, and local customary practices. The sacred writings that constitute Islamic law are composed of commandments concerning the actions of the believers, which are categorized as prohibited, disapproved, recommended, or compulsory. However, the norms discussed here make up a behavioral or customary code that pertains to worship and ritual obligations; considering them legally binding often entails the violation of citizens’ civil rights. As previously noted, religious regimes that have embraced Shari’a law have also turned into oppressors of the rights and liberties of women within their own nations, implementing the most stringent interpretation of sacred scriptures as the state law. Moving forward, we will examine the position occupied by women within the Islamic community according to the Quran and the writings comprising Shari’a, aiming to grasp the regulations that enforce control over women in countries like Iran. The value of women according to Islamic tradition Shari’a recognizes a fundamental equality between men and women before God. Nevertheless, in the worldly order, the two sexes are deemed complementary and assume diametrically distinct roles. This often translates into the control of women by men, as the latter takes responsibility for the family’s economy and the role of the household head, while women are confined to the domestic sphere, upholding purity in their roles as wives and mothers. According to the scriptures, the status and rights afforded to men are also extended to women, who can receive education, own property, and achieve economic advancement. Indeed, the Quran defends the individuality of women and grants them the freedom to safeguard their honor, receive a share of inheritance, seek redemption, and make decisions about their lives, even in matters of marriage. While both men and women hold equal significance, they have been designed to play distinct roles in reproduction and the perpetuation of the human species, which consequently leads to differing responsibilities. Within the family unit, paternal authority is vested solely in the father, who possesses the right to exercise ta’dib’, a genuine power of correction over his wife, even allowing for the use of force. The faculties granted to Muslim men regarding their wives are undoubtedly superior, but it is important to remember that, according to Revelation, human beings are created by God in two opposing genders with the capacity and moral duty to share love and respect for one another. The rights of women within the Islamic Community Male authority over women is legitimized by a hadith of the Prophet, stating that a woman is deficient in faith and intelligence. The position of women in Islam can be succinctly described by these Quranic phrases: women should treat their husbands as husbands treat them: with kindness. However, men hold a higher status because God has chosen some over others, and they provide resources for their support. There are numerous areas in which women are subordinate to men according to Islamic tradition. These include: the obligation of monogamy, the prohibition of marrying men of different faiths, the prohibition of divorce, the asymmetry of access to divorce, the granting of children, and inheritance. Specifically, the punishment for the murder of a woman is half that for a man, the testimony of two women, if accepted, is considered equivalent to that of one man, and the same principle extends to matters of inheritance. Women are ineligible for the roles of caliph or imam, and they are excluded from serving as judges or guardians. According to Shari’a law, a woman’s ability to take action is constrained until her marriage, which is a pivotal moment as it establishes the foundation of the family. Marriage in Islam is not a sacrament but a ceremony that falls within the natural order and is perceived as a genuine contract between two parties: the husband and the wife or her legal representative. A man can marry up to a maximum of four wives, provided he treats each of them with dignity and equality. Hence, the early Muslim family structure holds a distinct patriarchal character and is founded on male descent. In present times, this manifests as the objectification of women in countries governed by Shari’a law, reducing them to mere commodities within the framework of marital transactions. Many women are compelled into early marriages without their consent, thus fueling the phenomena of child brides and coerced unions. As a general rule, it can be asserted that in the Islamic world, from a legal perspective, the value of two women is deemed equivalent to that of one man. Symbolically, women are perceived as upholders of the purity within the community’s structure, while also embodying the representation of sexuality that requires regulation to prevent adverse effects on the community’s harmony. As a result, women carry the twofold responsibility of safeguarding traditional family values and purity, while also serving as a