Disasters of Imperial Power

Power, in the wrong hands, leads to disaster. 

The United States-led 'war on terror' has made the world anything but more safe and secure. Australian journalist and activist John Pilger asserts that rather than a war on terrorism, this particular war IS terrorism. Indeed, in the deeply divided Middle East, the resentment of western influence and repeated resource-related intervention solidifies. The bombings, invasions, war crimes, attempted regime change and 'state-building' have not made the powerful western backers of the destruction a whole lot of friends in the region. Suicide attacks in Iraq were unheard of before the US invasion, and are now commonplace. ISIS has arisen from a web of western-backed militia, in the grand design supposed to overthrow non-compliant leaders but now beyond control. Although terrorist attacks are still uncommon on western soil, we have seen well-publicised revenge attacks, of course most recently with France as the target. While desperate people flee the region, the West secures her borders. How willing we are to support regime change, but not take responsibility for the unthinkable losses inflicted on local populations.

Destabilisation of nations and entire regions leaves millions displaced, unemployed, hungry and thirsty, without education opportunities or any kind of security. In terms of disaster risk, imperial power continues to compound the problem. 

This power, wielded by western nations and corporations and intended to devour the resources of country after country, is something that Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi defied. Of course, the brutality of these dictators is well documented, but their countries were ultimately targeted for regime change for refusing to bow to proposed imperial masters rather than any human rights agenda. To retain any credibility for a 'humanitarian regime-change' premise, the US/UK and allies would need to not only come clean on their own human rights record, but respond appropriately to the abuses of their friends and not only their enemies. This is simply not going to happen, as weapons and goodwill continue to flow to the blatantly abusive Israel and Saudi Arabia, for example. Consolidated imperial power is 'as old as Columbus', as Pilger puts it The New Rulers of the World (p. 4), but it has taken on new robes for the 21st century. How much more destructive is this powerful club than any threat posed by ISIS, Al-Qaeda or Boko Haram?

Allied political and corporate power cares little for the vulnerable of the world, so long as they are grateful for the handouts that they receive. Decisions are purely economic, and human rights are not considered (bar as an inconvenience). The vulnerable are generally left worse of than before they were 'liberated'. 

The threat and illusion of 'necessary' endless war (remember Dick Cheney predicting 50 or more years of the 'war on terror') has been used to justify state repression and increased social control. The profiteers of disaster capitalism are gleefully rubbing their hands. Western 'patriots' say that we must blindly follow the instruction of the political elite for 'national security' and wreak eternal carnage on those countries that do not agree to serve our interests. Indeed, carnage in itself is the end game. Peace would not be profitable to the arms industry. The military industrial complex is now part of western psyche. Why are we so compliant? It does not have to be this way. Do we really subscribe to an ideology that says our lives are more valuable than those of Iraqis or Syrians? The horrors of the illegal Bush/Blair/Howard invasion of Iraq (now sold to us as a mistake rather than the obvious war crime and business decision that it was) have somehow fogged the memory of the brutal UN Security Council sanctions regime that killed half a million Iraqi children under Bush Sr. and Clinton, while barely affecting Saddam's rule. These children are the un-people of the world, and today the children of Syria and Yemen face a similar fate as collateral damage. Their deaths are 'worth it' in the scheme of things, as Madeleine Albright infamously reminded us. The delusion of imperial power is supreme.

Those annihilated by imperial power no longer face disaster risk, given their untimely demise. However, those left behind are tortured by the psychological, physical and economic impacts for generations. This risk creation runs deep. 

Richard Nixon called Indonesia 'the greatest prize in South-East Asia' and the World Bank lauded its pro-western 'reorientation' from 1967, going so far as to call it a 'model pupil' of globalization shortly before Suharto's resignation in 1998. The grisly details of another 'worthwhile' regime change are less well known, but were wholly acceptable to imperial power brokers that included the US, British and Australian governments, the IMF and World Bank and countless western corporations. Starting with a US-supplied kill list of 5000, up to a million Indonesians were murdered by the pro-western Suharto regime, while accolades flowed in from the press and western foreign offices. Australian Prime Minister Harold Holt clearly approved. "With 500,000 to a million communist sympathisers knocked off," he said, "I think it's safe to assume that a reorientation has taken place." In the wake of this genocide, the World Bank and IMF were happy to create unrepeatable debt, turn a blind eye to corruption and divide the resources of Indonesia between western corporations. A second western-backed horror in East Timor finally turned the tide on the Suharto regime in 1998.

The fate of both Indonesia and Iraq, mirrored around the world throughout the 'American Century' and today, demonstrate the destructive potential of imperial power and conquest. The human cost is unfathomable and is demonstrably far more devastating than what the west calls terrorism. 

Modern imperial power games not only kill immediately, but they significantly increase disaster risk for the most vulnerable in the societies affected. Minorities are marginalised. Inequality is actually designed to increase. Poverty is entrenched and indeed demanded under this system. Have we, as argued by the advocates of western imperialism, really witnessed such remarkable 'progress' to justify the great cost of crushing all cultures that stand in the way? When our ideas of progress include skyrocketing consumption, a throw-away consumer mindset and culture of entertainment, perhaps we have ceased to represent progress. When we measure the success of a country by GDP growth, perhaps we have ceased to represent progress.

When we see the world's most vulnerable people as collateral damage, cheap labour, a security threat or simply as 'unfortunate' (given our actions that have made them so), perhaps we have ceased to represent progress. 

Maybe we should consider the possibility, uncomfortable as it may be, that our idea of progress is as hollow as our justifications for atrocities that have enabled it.  

Punishment Over Reform: A Twisted Morality

When the stories of abuse of Indigenous children at Don Dale juvenile detention centre broke last week, outrage and shock flooded our screens. Anyone following the story on social media may have observed that structural racism and white privilege is still defiantly espoused and resolutely defended in Australia.

Against a backdrop of colonial brutality and a history of racial discrimination and violence, author Tony Birch writes, “that it was a shock to many people is itself a stain on the nation.” Indeed, many Australians adopt the mentality advocated by broadcaster Kyle Sandilands, who says that we should simply, "get over it, it's 200 years ago." This argument denies the ongoing colonialism imposed through policy by every Australian government in history.

In Australia, successful rehabilitation programs are shut down in favour of locking more and more people away for as long as possible (with Indigenous members of society particularly targeted). Perhaps it will encourage 'jobs and growth?' Pray tell, Mike Baird. Undoubtedly the private sector is making a killing out of the commodification and outsourcing of cruelty.

Kathleen Maltzahn tells us that the current culture in Australia allows and indeed implicitly approves of physical, sexual and psychological abuse of prisoners. She asks us to consider whether prisoners really deserve it. I think it is hard to argue that our culture is not simply one that approves of a punishment ethos, and that this is what makes people ignore abuse. 'These are our values', wrote Antony Loewenstein of Australian society's malaise.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the Nauru files scandal erupted. The scale of trauma being inflicted on asylum seekers in offshore concentration camps has been laid bare. Financed by Australian taxpayers. If you were to listen to the government, you would hear that it was the asylum seekers' fault, or the government of Nauru's fault, or the contractors' fault. In turn, those being paid to carry out Australia's punitive policy maintain that they are simply doing a job and diligently reporting abuse to those stakeholders ultimately responsible. Ferrovial, Broadspectrum and Govt of Nauru maintain their claim to innocence and professionalism.

Source: https://www.flickr.com/photos/photomequickbooth/

Will we see the closure of Nauru and Manus? It really makes no sense financially to keep the camps open, considering the military-style turnback operation that is underway to prevent arrivals. Every argument that is put forward to demonise refugees has been repeatedly debunked. We arrive at the fact that they are simply there to be punished; men, women and children. Is this justice? Is this western morality?

We can hope that we are reaching a breaking point, but realistically there is bipartisan political support to continue abusing the most vulnerable in society. Until we decide collectively to fight back and be heard, soulless politicians will not deviate, and corporations will continue to profit from abuse. This SHOULD be an election issue; not as to which party will punish asylum seekers the most, but as to which party will be most welcoming and will work to solve core issues causing displacement in the first place.

BOOK REVIEW - Disaster Capitalism: Making a Killing out of Catastrophe by Anthony Lowenstein

The US Presidential Election is in full swing. Over the next few months, Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton will go toe-to-toe in what is already a less than clean scrap. In amongst the media and social media hysteria (on both sides), one could be forgiven for missing an intriguing narrative espoused by alternative voices that opts, rather than criticizing one candidate over the other, to reject both the neoliberal status quo and reactionary neofascist agendas that are the product of unfettered predatory capitalism.

In Disaster Capitalism: Making a Killing out of Catastrophe, acclaimed Australian journalist Anthony Loewenstein turns his passion for justice to deliver a stunning critique of the thriving disaster capitalism industry, in its many forms; the profiteers of privatized detention, militarized security, the aid industry and multinational mining are relentlessly skewered with style and poise, and their predatory tactics exposed. According to his narrative, Hillary Clinton is exactly the kind of neoliberal hawk that enables neofascist demagogues like Trump to rise, and allows predatory 'businessmen' like Trump to prosper. Both Presidential candidates are indeed invested in disaster capitalism, but Loewenstein's tale is arguably one that focuses on the Hillary's of the world; the trusted and experienced hand; the status quo; the Establishment.

Disaster Capitalism is the story of Loewenstein's journey into the belly of this particular beast. The book gives us an up-close-and-personal look at how corporations like Serco, G4S, Halliburton and their ilk profit from organized misery, perpetual conflict and the impacts of disaster, and how national governments and international organizations like the IMF and the World Bank are willing collaborators. In Part I, he takes us to Afghanistan, Pakistan, Papua New Guinea and Greece, exposing the various exploitative strategies employed to enrich the local elite and foreign interests, and the devastating effects on the majority of people in each country. In Part II, we visit wealthy Western democracies (Australia, the United States and the United Kingdom) that punish the most vulnerable in their societies while dictating economic conditions to the world, imposing taxpayer funded cruelty for private profit at home and abroad.

This is an absolutely enthralling read; a must for the revolutionary; the dreamer; the activist; the teacher; the learner. Loewenstein has compiled a treasure-trove of evidence on his travels. His dismantling of the social and economic myths that enable predatory disaster capitalism is robust and compels us to action. He offers a "challenge to cherished beliefs concerning aid and development, war and democracy, and in particular the modern, borderless nature of capitalism." (p. 14) For this reader, 3 key themes emerge; a dialogue around crime and punishment; a critique of the idea of benevolent corporations; and the grim reality that this is all part of a plan, a rigged system that empowers and enables predator capitalists to flourish.

Crime and Punishment

As the prison-industrial complex has rapidly taken hold in Western societies, the public clearly favours an ideology of punishment over reform. In addition to highlighting issues around race and class, Loewenstein speaks to issues around the treatment of those in the care of the state, and how "lobbying, ideology and a punishment ethos have colluded to produce one of the most destructive experiments in recent times: mass incarceration."

Judicial processes in the UK, US and Australia target the marginalized for what amounts to, essentially, punishment for being unable to escape their systemic disadvantage. Loewenstein unpacks the ideology behind this phenomenon and asks whether the poor man, the petty criminal, the asylum seeker or the drug user really deserve the punishments that are prescribed and who indeed benefits? What of the bankers that caused a global financial collapse? The CEOs of corporations that destroy the only planet we have? The heads of state that lied in order to enable the invasion and destruction of Iraq, leading to the destabilisation of the region and a current displacement crisis of epic proportions? Should not our justice system be designed to protect society from such individuals and the devastating consequences of their actions?

Over the past 2 months, we have witnessed a brutal crackdown on drug sellers and users in the Philippines, since the rise to power of President Duerte. Summary executions on the streets have shocked the world, yet few official condemnations are forthcoming. While it is not difficult to imagine that many politicians and indeed members of the public might secretly support these abuses of power and share the President's disdain for Article 10 of the Declaration of Human Rights, as Loewenstein finds in Australia, America and the UK, there is an infinitely more 'subtle' way to enforce the harshest punishments: through private contractors.

The criminal justice system in Australia ensures sky-high rates of Aboriginal incarceration, and, as the recently revealed abuses of the NT government demonstrate, the hateful punishment of those discarded by society is absolutely state sanctioned. In America, the black population is also disproportionately incarcerated. Loewenstein explores the roots of a system that enables this in the US and the corporations that profit handsomely at the expense of taxpayers, destroying families and leaving little opportunity for rehabilitation and reintegration into society. "Private prison corporations saw a unique opportunity" (p. 196) in America, Loewenstein writes, to do everything possible to ensure that more and more people were incarcerated. The prison population is thirty times what it was in the 1990s. The absolutely failed 'War on Drugs' has wreaked havoc on society. For all the posturing about market efficiency, private prison corporations are a spectacular leech off the government purse, with a rigged legal system providing financial and political benefits right down the food chain. All of this is possible, he tells us, due to a lack of "serious questioning of the harsh, punitive ideology underpinning US 'justice'." (p. 207)

In Australia, the UK, the US and Greece, Loewenstein exposes the fact that asylum seekers and migrants are also punished, most often without breaking any law.  In Greece, he provides a rich cultural background of "not just economic harshness, but a culture that tolerated and celebrated exclusion." (p. 69) In the grips of imposed austerity measures, the social fabric began to unravel and "Popular frustration was taken out on the most marginalized group in society: refugees." (p. 72) The mandate for demonization of the vulnerable that was secured in Greece, as in Australia, was just one tactic used to ensure profit for human rights abuses across the countries that Loewenstein investigates.

Time and again, Loewenstein finds governments all too eager to enable those corporations in a position to cash in. He details how the EU has become central in "funding, encouraging and pressuring EU nations to isolate and imprison asylum seekers." He discusses the industries that have sprung up and thrived, often with the EU leading "the charge in working with corporations that have been very willing to develop and hone methods for repelling the desperate hordes." As 'Fortress Europe' closes her borders, deals like that done between the EU with Turkey are sealed without a second thought for the human cost. Corporations and corrupt governments profit; the vulnerable are turned away and suffer.

Benevolent Corporations

Loewenstein picks up where Naomi Klein left off in her 2007 bestseller Shock Doctrine. She pointed out that privatization of government has accelerated in the U.S., as private sector opportunities have been generated through the 'war on terror'. She argues that, "now wars and disasters are so fully privatized, that they are themselves the new market: there is no need to wait until after the war for the boom - the medium is the message." Loewenstein builds on this and adds that "it is hard to escape the conclusion that wars are often fought for the key reason of liberating new and willing markets - and with the war on terror likely to continue for decades, there will be no shortage of new business to secure." (p. 16)

We often encounter the myth of the benevolent corporation. As much as it might be comforting to believe that the private sector simply goes about its business in a free market generating jobs and growth, from cover to cover Disaster Capitalism lays bare the impacts of a global privatisation bonanza. For Loewenstein, the US has played a pivotal role. He says that a "central plank" of U.S. foreign policy is "the US model of reducing the role of government while increasing the influence of largely private power has never been so rapacious, though the problem is global." (p. 4)

Loewenstein is no admirer of market fundamentalism, saying that "wealth is concentrated in so few hands in today's world: there is little incentive to advocate for a more equitable planet. The market system guarantees unfairness and rewards greed." (p.2) He shows us examples of open rebellion against this system from communities in Greece, Haiti and PNG, countries exploited long and hard by the status quo. As we have become more enslaved to the neoliberal project, Loewenstein argues "that the corporation is now more powerful than the nation-state, and that it is often the former that dictates terms to the latter." (p.7)

In Bougainville, PNG, Loewenstein meets members of the resistance against resource exploitation, and explores the shady relationships between corporate and political interests. The memories of violence fuelled by greed and repression do not fade easily. The health of the community and the environment have also been terribly compromised. "Environmental vandalism should not be the price tag for 'progress'," he pleads.

In Afghanistan, we are introduced to Jack, the British MD of a private military company (PMC) who provides an inside look at a truly burgeoning industry. He is not shy to admit that his corporation "survives off chaos." (p. 20) Jack anticipates perpetual war and opportunity. "If we can make money, we'll go there," he tells Loewenstein. He sees his industry in a purely positive light, providing "jobs for the boys leaving the army who can continue their trade." In spite of the well documented abuses of PMCs in Afghanistan and Iraq, military objectives continue to be dressed in humanitarian robes, government intelligence gathering has been privatized and mercenaries are ensured "a quick buck" (p. 21). Indeed, Loewenstein finds that the PMC industry hopes that the conflict and the profit will never end. When it does, they will be "looking for the new war." (p. 61) 

How often are we outraged at government spending on weaponry and conflicts that we deem unnecessary, but hesitate to question the relationship between corporate interests and government policy and spending. Loewenstein reminds us that the war on terror represents one of the largest wealth transfers in history, with 4 trillion dollars to date being spent, with much of it going to ever-grateful Western contractors. The privatization of prisons and security apparatus is incredibly expensive, while all evidence shows that incarceration does not tackle societal problems that lead to crime, but rather reinforces them. 

The overwhelming message is that simply outsourcing your cruelty is a convenient way to avoid responsibility, transparency and accountability, while profiting corporations and manipulating the economy. Neoliberal governments would like us to accept the notion that corporations are ultimately benevolent entities that exist only to employ people, satisfy market demand and grow GDP. Loewenstein argues that "multinational corporations spent the twentieth century gradually reducing their obligations in the various jurisdictions in which they operated." (p. 243) What we have now is unregulated, unaccountable and secretive private sector entities. Meanwhile, governments with dirty work to outsource are not left disappointed.

Unfortunately, a willful ignorance of the sometimes devastating social impact of 'business' has allowed a mentality of self-righteousness to fester, completely detached from the suffering of people that stand in the way of profit, those targeted by governments for suppression and oppression, and the unfortunate citizens of countries outside of the US circle of trust, whose lives appear to hold so much less value than those of allies. Companies like DynCorp and Blackwater, despite having their abuses repeatedly exposed, thrive in this context.

A Rigged System

Loewenstein exposes, time and again, the fact that the global economy is dominated by anti-democratic and predatory forces that profit the wealthy and the ruthless. The revolving door between corporations, lobby groups and government is clear for all to see. This collusion between powerful actors fans the flames of crisis while selling market fundamentalism as the antidote and positioning 'benevolent' corporations to reap the benefits. In the U.S. the banks were bailed out while personal debt, and indeed poverty rates, soar. Loewenstein offers a stinging critique of a system rigged for the 1%, and the scandalous truth that in the US both major parties represent similar corporate interests while the media feigns ignorance. Indeed, liberal presidents have done little for the vulnerable other than make empty promises.

Meanwhile, in Haiti, Loewenstein describes an environment of "canny capitalists sifting through the ashes of a disaster, looking for business opportunities." (p. 109) His narrative of this historically vulnerable nation describes the strong 20th Century American support for successive brutal dictatorships, enriching U.S. interests and a local elite. We see this model replicated again and again in Disaster Capitalism, and indeed around the world as a key element of U.S. foreign policy. The example, in chapter 3, of the "devoutly anti-Communist" 'Baby Doc' Duvalier is particularly damning, who, "unlike the many African despots targeted by the Hague, remained a friend of the West and was therefore largely untouchable." (p. 110) When the neoliberal agenda was challenged in Haiti by Aristade, the U.S. and local elite conspired to overthrow the government to restore 'order'.

We are often presented with the assertion that the international community, led by U.S. humanitarianism, rescued Haiti after the 2010 earthquake. Loewenstein paints a very different picture, and claims that "when Haiti had received lashings of 'help' this generosity had done little but enrich foreign companies." (p. 115) The local reception to UN  intervention was largely hostile. In the context of historical US interventions in Haiti this comes as no surprise, and the sentiment is well founded. As revealed by Wikileaks, the US ambassador to Haiti asserted that the UN military-style solution was "an indispensable tool in realizing core [US government] policy interests in Haiti" (p. 115)

In a similar vein, most development aid to PNG from Australia since its independence either found its way into the pockets of either the wealthy PNG elite or Australian corporations. Far from its claimed humanitarian ideals, Loewenstein says that the main goal of the Australian government in PNG was simply, "to ensure that Australian corporations had a ready market in which to turn a profit." (p. 172) The denial of complicity with oppressors in the violent struggles of the 1980s and the patronizing attitudes displayed by Australian diplomats leaves a bitter taste.

Loewenstein reserves some of his harshest criticism for the mainstream media, and the "false construct of "balance" that permeates the corporate press, which merely pits one powerful interest group against another" and one that "views business and political leaders as far more important than the individuals and societies affected by them." (p. 10) As an independent journalists that opposes the state of his profession, he laments the fact that "90% of Americans rely on information from media outlets owned by only six multinationals, including News Corporation, Comcast and Viacom."

Conclusion

Disaster Capitalism pulls no punches in calling out both profiteers and enablers. Loewenstein exposes a shady cabal operating in plain sight; corporations that will not blink at the thought of misery, death and destruction as part of business as usual. Governments that outsource their most distasteful projects to companies that have neither conscience nor boundaries. A complete lack of transparency and accountability allows whatever abuses that are uncovered to yield few consequences for the perpetrators. 

The book is impossible to put down and rich with memorable lines. It will have the reader coming back to review the stories of friend and foe, of oppressed and oppressor. Loewenstein has skillfully articulated opposing positions, admitting his ideological bent where possible in the text and to those he meets in the field. It is sure to be a book both loved and hated, depending on the beliefs of the reader, for its honest storytelling. The accounts of his journalistic interactions give the book a very personal feel. 

Loewenstein shows us how accepting something terrible (e.g. abuse of asylum seekers, mass incarceration etc.) out of a fear of personal harm, insecurity or loss gives a perceived legitimacy to profiteers (perhaps the American elections will be a case in point of this mechanism, on both sides). He wrote the book to "shock, provoke and reveal." (p. 16) The question is; once we know all about the profiteers of calamity, will we just carry on or will we fight for justice? 

Refugees in Europe: a journey from Gevgelija (FYROM) to Budapest (Hungary)

In August, I spent two weeks in my hometown in Southern Italy. I also took a short trip with a friend of mine to Eastern Europe, along the way participating at the EUGEO 2015 Conference in Budapest (Hungary), where I organized a session and presented a paper. During my visit to this region of Europe, the refugee crisis was building. Things were becoming heated, not only in terms of (very) high temperatures, but particularly in terms of tension and debate within the European Union about how to manage what is rightly considered a humanitarian crisis.

Since we were travelling near to the Balkan area, which refugees traditionally use to try to reach their aspired destinations in Northern Europe countries, my friend and I decided to observe with our own eyes what was occurring. Of course, we did not do it for voyeurism purposes. We think that human beings have to recognize the often tragic and sobering power of History, which constantly happens around our everyday life and deserves direct observation when it is possible. We are also against the protectionist strategies of this European Union, setting itself up as an impregnable fortress. In the past 30 years we have been surrounded by news of tragedies constantly happening both along terrestrial borders and Mediterranean sea, as well as about the violence and ignominious treatments perpetrated on migrants both at borders and the detention camps in Libya and Europe. For these reasons, we decided to be an infinitesimal part of that History and to witness the biggest displacement of people to Europe since World War 2.

I am neither a photographer (actually, I just "do pictures"), nor a journalist or a political analyst. However, as an Italian and European citizen calling for a shift towards inclusive mobility rights and hoping that national and supranational borders finally collapse as spaces of militarization, surveillance and control perpetrating existing and new injustice and inequalities, I have attempted to narrate and to document in pictures what I have seen on those European borders. I have also spoken with some of the refugees, trying to be respectful to people that were there sleeping, washing clothes, or playing football, often in very precarious conditions (as in Budapest). I had several small chats with groups of guys or with families; some were tired or didn't want to be disturbed, however others asked us to take pictures and were happy to speak with me.

We arrived in the small town of Gevgelija (FYROM), located just 300 meters from the South-Eastern border FYROM-Greece. The situation was very difficult. The temperature so high that plastic shelters and gazebos under the sun were literally burning. A few volunteers were providing insufficient food and water. People were continuing to arrive from the border, passing through an unpaved way carrying limited bags and dusty clothes. Exhausted parents took children by the arm. On the border, a police cordon was struggling to prevent refugees from crossing the barbed wire which was used to delimit the border. Protests by the desperate crowds were mounting, pushing to enter FYROM territory. I saw also Macedonian police and frustrated people facing off.

The unpaved way from the FYROM-Greece border to the camp in the Gevgelija countryside. 

Refugees arriving from the border. 

Tensions between the Macedonian police and refugees.

After Gevgelija, we travelled (on our own) towards Belgrade, the capital of Serbia, located in the North of the country. We visited the central station in which refugees were recovered -also for days- after travelling on buses from Gevgelija, waiting for an opportunity to reach the Serbia-Hungary border. While the Gevgelija camp was located in the countryside, with just a few nearby houses and about three kilometres far from the small, rusty station of the town, the refugees' area in Belgrade was located at the side of the central station along the river Sava. It was a small, but very crowded green area, with travellers passing with their bags and suitcases throughout igloo tents, people sleeping on the floor, and children showering in fountains. There were also a lot of Serbians accessing the shops and bars outside the station. Therefore it was possible to see both people having a social drink alongside refugees literally assaulting volunteers bringing food packs, which were of course insufficient to cater for the needy. Being the main railway station of Belgrade, it was absolutely a mess. This de facto worsened the already difficult condition of refugees; there was a lot of traffic along the roads with high levels of pollution and noise at the crossing lights; cars were going into and out from the private parking close to the station. Some people were waiting for private buses operating along the route Belgrade-Kanjiža (the small town close to the border Serbia-Hungary). In order to pay for bus tickets, food and water, refugees went to change their currency to the Serbian dinar.

Drying clothes on a football net in the central station in Belgrade. 

Rubbish/Drying. 

Showering kids.

We knew refugees were also in Novi Sad, an important city between Belgrade and the border with Hungary, however we skipped it because we had to enter into Hungary that evening, and long queues for border checks were expected (in fact, we spent four hours for a passport and baggage check!). Before approaching the border, we visited the refugees' camp in the Serbian town of Kanjiža. The camp was located in a green area just outside the town and close to a railway track. The condition was relatively better than Gevgelija and Belgrade; the camp was monitored by the volunteers of a humanitarian association, and tents were provided for shelter as well as fountains and toilets. A Syrian family asked me to take a picture of their daughters, and this turned into an occasion for a short chat. They told me that they took one month to arrive there from Homs (Northern Syria). They wanted to reach Germany, where some relatives were waiting for them. They did not know what would happen when they tried to cross the Hungarian border, however that evening they were preparing to leave the camp, Inshallah.

The kids of the Syrian family I chatted with in Kanjiža. The youngest daughter was very reticent to pose. 

Washing clothes. 

The camp had humanitarian tents, which are more comfortable of igloo tents or the ground. 

After a few days, I took part in the EUGEO conference in Budapest, where refugees were gathered into the Kalati station waiting to take trains to Germany and Austria. The station was full of refugees in shameful conditions; however, the Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán decided to prevent them from boarding the trains. The reason for this halt was the application of the EU directives on migrations. According to the Dublin III Regulation by EU, every application for international protection lodged by refugees has to be examined in the country of entry. Although the halt by Orbán was formally lawful and "necessary", it only served to worsen the already unsustainable conditions of the refugees in the station. Just a small water pump and few smelling toilets were provided for hundreds of people, as well as minimal food and no safe areas for sleeping. Refugees (probably around 500 people, but is a very roughly estimation also due to that other people came in the following days) were waiting for days in front of the station sleeping on the ground. They protested and claimed their right to travel. I spoke with some very young Syrian and Iraqi guys. They wanted to go in Germany and angrily waved their train tickets under my nose. A part of the ignominious conditions of the refugees, I was also ashamed for the silence on this issue during the EUGEO 2015 Conference. The Kalati station was just at three kilometres from the conference venue, the Eötvös Loránd University, in Buda side of the Danube. Nevertheless, it seems to me there has been no mention or condemnation, in formal speeches or key note lectures, about what was happening there. Nothing changes with a formal condemnation, of course, however a scientific meeting of geographers and social scientists must be aware of what is happening in their proximity and highlight injustices, particularly when global challenges knock on your door.

Underground passage occupied by refugees in the Kalati station, Budapest. 

Trying to rest. 

A man protesting against the police cordoning the station entrance. 

These guys show me their tickets for Germany. They were in the station since five days, and no food was provided. 

Refugees in the Kalati station. 

I do not know what has happened to the people I met, if they have been able to reach their destination and if they will be able to build a new life far from their home countries. In previous posts on our blog, Jason posed very interesting questions about the challenges migration and displacement pose to the concept of "place" and to the Western development models which provide benefits for the few and sufferance, bombs, and destruction for the others. In the Middle East and around the world, wars or terrorism threaten communities and institutions; this can be considered a disaster. Wars' consequences exceed the capacity of the population to survive, to regain a job or a wage, or to sustain their livelihoods. Local communities cannot cope with the disruption and destruction using exclusively their own resources. As disaster scholars, we are called to investigate the relationships among migrations, society, and environment for understanding pre-existing and new vulnerabilities and risks, for both people continuing to live in those countries and refugees. In this way, several researches are exploring impacts of wars, as well as climate change and hazards on migration trends and displacement. Also narrating and witnessing refugees' stories and conditions respond to this academic -and ethical- need, giving voice to excluded and marginalized people.

All my pictures can be found at my Facebook page (contents are in Italian, apologize for this), as well as pictures by my friend (he is an amateur photographer) on his Flickr.

The Displacement Crisis Revealing our Humanity

The world is finally waking up to a global displacement crisis. While we debate what to call the displaced, refugees...asylum seekers...migrants...the number of people seeking a new 'place' as a matter of urgency is swelling like never before in history. What is 'place' and who deserves one to call their own? Do citizens of failed states have a right to seek another place? As we consider the cauldron of violence and instability that is the Middle East, are we asking questions about the underlying causes of displacement?

Photo by Giuseppe Forino

This crisis is only likely to grow. As Australia and the UK prepare to join the US-led bombing campaign in Syria, will the politicians making the decision to kill ever more civilians be held accountable for the impact? How has this strategy worked out before in Iraq, Afghanistan and Libya? Violence is a lucrative pastime. The global arms trade generates massive revenues, and soaring military spending is justified based on the perceived risks posed globally, often as a result of intentional destabilization. Quite a business model.

However, it is not only conflict that creates displacement. Climate change is occurring whether you like science or not. Disaster impacts are evolving as societies urbanize and people adopt less sustainable living in the pursuit of 'development'. In many ways, people are become more exposed to disaster risk because of how they choose to live. The drive to 'modernize' and 'advance' inherently supports the incumbent economic system of our time. A devotion to market fundamentalism practically locks us in for whatever disasters will eventually befall our race.

Put it this way. Our economic and social order is built on the premise that limitless growth is healthy. Anything that might challenge this premise is dismissed as problematic, idealistic and unreasonable. Solutions that involve equality and justice for all are labeled socialist. This belief system taken to the extreme brings us humanitarian bombing and coal is good for humanity. Orwell was spot on; blind, selfish, self-absorbed consumers want to believe that 'war is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength'.

It is great to see the outpouring of empathy for the Syrian refugees reaching Europe. It gives me hope that most of us really do care about others. Perhaps it takes a picture and the tragic story of a dead toddler to really wake us up from our busy, stressed out existence. My hope is that this crisis will create thousands of activists around the world. There are huge ethical and moral dilemmas to consider, but not a lot of time to take action.

The world certainly needs to come up with rapid and collective solutions to this humanitarian crisis, but we need to be careful not to apply a band-aid to a deep laceration. Increasing refugee intake is commendable, but are we prepared to interrogate the problem at its source?

Disasters, poverty and the paradox of limitlessness

I think that we, the human race, are in a bit of a pickle. The consensus seems to be that now is a great time to be alive. Those spreading such optimism trumpet the achievements of industrialisation and globalisation. Sure, the human population is soaring, but more people are healthier and happier than ever, aren't they? Limitless growth seems to be working.

As a result of humanity's rapid development during the 20th century, consumption has been exceeding the earth's ability to regenerate since the early 70's. Last week earth 'overshoot day' came earlier than ever before. We no longer live on the 'interest', but are eating into natural capital. The human population could hit 11 billion by 2100, exacerbating existing dilemmas in health, poverty, civil unrest. Per capita share of environmental resources must decrease as population increases, but as a minority of the human race consume more and more, there is less for the remainder. Much of the growth in the 21st century is projected to occur in Asia and Africa, regions that are largely still to fully develop (and reach consumption levels on par with the West). A bleak outlook, I know.

But honestly, the contamination of ecological systems is out of control. So called 'ecological debt' is growing rapidly, and regardless of the political posturing, serious measures are not being taken to avoid the disasters that will surely come as a result. The environmental, political and social ramifications could be world-changing. Will technology or human ingenuity save the day? Neo-liberalism has redefined the 'limitless' worldview, aided by a taboo on the discussion of population. However, this is not a technical problem. It is not even a population problem. If we propose technical solutions we will solve the wrong problem.

The real issue facing us is the ideology of limitless consumption and progress measured by economic growth. However, questioning the wisdom of perpetual economic growth is tantamount to heresy in a neo-liberal society. As Garrett Hardin posits, 'It has long been recognised that some of our most deeply held views are not neat, precise propositions but broadly "global" attitudes that act as the gatekeepers of the mind, letting in only those propositions that do not challenge the dominant picture of reality.' The ecological problems we face today reduce to balancing supply and demand. Ecological 'services' are limited, while demand is essentially endless.

The paradox of a growing global population that protects the 'limitless' worldview is astounding. I do not agree with everything Hardin writes, but his assertion that 'four centuries of sedation by the delusion of limitlessness have left humanity floundering in a wilderness of rhetoric' is difficult to argue with. Poverty has not ended, inequality is growing and we are killing the planet; and we feel entitled to carry on! Forced displacement due to conflict, climate change and disasters will create lasting impacts for countries both producing and receiving refugees. What is the plan? No amount of cruelty perpetuated on those escaping will actually stem the tide, much less address the actual problem(s).

It would appear that the limitless paradigm offers few solutions when it comes to the core issues facing the human race. Perpetual growth and boundless consumption might satisfy our desires in the present, but what are the long term impacts?

The rising challenge to entitlement: disasters, migration and western values

2015 is a year of global agreements regarding climate change, disaster risk reduction and sustainable development. The new frameworks proposed will invariably require innovative strategies for change. But is society ready to accept change and adaptation for the good of future generations? Change invariably involves sacrifice. The belief that our very way of life is being eroded by the demands of environmentalists is prevalent, but we must consider who this narrative serves. The ‘risk’ of change to those who have accumulated power, wealth and resources under the status quo must not be ignored. An assessment of ruling-class risk may indeed help us to contextualise some of the important debate of 2015.

Entitled to Succeed

If schooling has taught us anything, it is that success manifests as wealth, power, achievements and accolades. ‘Work hard and succeed`, they say. ‘If you don't succeed, you didn't try hard enough’. Nobody likes to admit that disadvantage runs deep and 'failure' according to our system is more accurately predicted by socio-economic indicators than by work ethic. Those 'born to rule' hate to admit that privilege is a factor and will point to rags to riches success stories that supposedly prove that a meritocracy exists. However, the systemic inequality that is all around us challenges the very values of a free society that our democracies uphold.

What, in fact, are 'western values'? Freedom, justice, compassion? The freedom to accumulate. Retributive justice. Conditional compassion. Perhaps it's the expectation that someone be employed and pays taxes (so that our government can fund war and distribute private sector welfare).

In these times of austerity, most Western governments favour neoliberal economic ideologies and, as a consequence, policies that target the least at fault for economic crisis and the least able to afford cuts, taxes and levies. Underpinning this agenda is an insidious belief that the poor are lazy and the disabled are frauds. We are told that to help such poor souls, we must impose some sort of punishment. It’s the moral thing to do, after all.

Outsiders:

How does our perception of western values (and the incentives and punishments attached to these values) affect our attitude towards those outside our borders, and indeed towards the ‘others’ within our borders? It's hard to know what our values truly are, if you consider the rhetoric of our elected leaders. They preach social justice while passing legislation to persecute the vulnerable. Perhaps that is what social justice means to such ideologues. How do we view more than two billion in poverty worldwide, populations in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria and Ukraine exposed to ongoing conflict or the disproportionate number of people in developing countries vulnerable to climate change?

Despite all of our advances, every second child on the planet lives in poverty. Of the world’s 2.2 billion children there are 1 billion in poverty. 18,000 children (under 5) still die every day from poverty, hunger and preventable disease. As UNICEF articulated in 2000, these children,

“die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death.”

Do we consider that many of the problems felt beyond our borders persist as a result of inequality? Indeed, systemic inequality is capitalized upon by western corporate and governmental entities to maintain growth and accumulate wealth for the 1%. However unintentionally, we in the west are born with a perceived entitlement to benefit from this inequality, established hundreds of years ago, largely through slavery and the global domination and destruction of indigenous people groups.

Climate change, migration and disaster risk reduction:

The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change asserts that,

"people who are socially, economically, culturally, politically, institutionally or otherwise marginalised are especially vulnerable to climate change."

Those most vulnerable; children, women, the elderly and the disabled, located in developing countries, already suffer disproportionately due to conflict and disaster. Needless to say, programs that address the underlying causes of this vulnerability have a significant impact on long term disaster risk. However, the current near-consensus towards technocratic solutions to poverty does little to reduce growing inequality and lack of individual freedom. Indeed, the solutions imposed by development experts often serve to increase vulnerability among the most marginalised in a society.

Extreme events force many more people from their homes than conflict, yet few governments are facing up to the potential of future mass migration. As of end-2013, 51.2million people were forcibly displaced worldwide. We cannot be entirely sure what the consequences will be of planetary boundaries being exceeded, but it is hardly a stretch to imagine that more people than ever would be forced to seek safe refuge from violent conflicts, stronger and more frequent natural hazards and food and water shortages.

Photo credit: worldmaritimenews

Perhaps the Hunger Games narrative isn’t so far-fetched.

Risk reduction holds a different meaning for the wealthy and for the poor. As renewable energy alternatives become accessible to all, entire industries are at risk. The opponents of freely available sustainable energy will fight on for their ‘right’ to collect profit in the years to come. Global agreements like the Trans-Pacific Partnership will attempt to reinforce structures designed purely for profit and domination. Whether it is energy generation or food production - sustainability and resilience for you and I come at a cost to the global elite. Sustainability demands that we moderate/reduce consumption (largely procure from established corporate elite) while resilience empowers ‘people’ to cope for themselves (thus reducing reliance upon elite derived/powered systems and products).

Sameness or Variety:

No amount of positivity or optimism prevents people dying of thirst and starvation daily. Meanwhile, the west gets fatter. We place our faith in business, in foreign aid, in development, to provide the solution. Are we wrong to assume that this system, created by corporations, banks and government, will act in the interests of humanity? We so easily swallow the narrative that says that ‘the others’ are out to ruin life as we know it- single mothers, unemployed youth, the disabled and asylum seekers. But does our existence really depend on protecting ourselves from these vulnerable groups? The lie is pervasive. Our leaders tell us to just believe, over and over again.

While 3 million people turn out to advocate for free speech in Paris, there is little outrage against what Joseph Conrad called "the merry dance of death and trade." As sections of Western society become more and more polarised and marginalised, the ability to empathise with ‘others’ is rapidly eroded, within and beyond our borders.

Current global systems (economic/social/moral etc.) are ideologically flawed; they assign power, wealth and resources to the few at a detriment to the many. These systems are also highly contemptuous of change. A healthy system should naturally transition through periods of creative destruction, allowing innovation and creativity to flourish. Instead, we have been programmed to favour growth and conservation at all costs, while protecting the status quo.

Voltaire and Inequality

Can we envisage a world where no one starves to death or dies of treatable disease in any given day, and where everyone has access to life’s basic necessities? Do the poor choose to remain poor?

‘The comfort of the rich depends on an abundant supply of the poor.’ - Voltaire

If we truly do aspire to a more equitable and sustainable way of life, what needs to happen to make it a reality? Can current global systems deliver on such a vision or is such thinking ultimately utopian? The current status quo gives us a scenario where the poorest 10% of humanity account for just 0.5% ofconsumption while the wealthiest 10% account for 59%. The demand for global resources and strain on our environment does not arise due to the actions or inactions of the global poor. Economic distress is never caused by families on social welfare, it is caused by banks and corporations that effectively benefit from publicly sourced subsidies (source?). What is the tipping point for injustice, the last straw before moral outrage?

Is the very (western) way of life that we protect and treasure part of the global malaise? Are we so devoted to materialism, consumerism and individualism (the religions of the West, as defined by Russell Brand) that we would cast off all responsibility for the consequences of the flawed ideological underpinnings of empire and globalisation?

Voltaire’s oft-quoted and adapted words, ‘the best is the enemy of the good,’ in the poem La Begueule, are commonly used to justify failed systems or as pretext for trivial solutions. The correct meaning was in fact to warn against greed, envy and lack of gratitude. It was upon such a misconstrued meaning of Voltaire’s words that the Obama administration oversaw the robbery of US taxpayers to feed a reckless and greedy banking sector, as Nobel prize-winning economist Joseph Stiglitz points out. Consider this on a global scale...does the current economic system ‘require’ an abundant supply of the poor? Is growing inequality a positive thing, as argued by Kevin O’Leary? A 2014 report by Oxfam states that the richest 85 people in the world hold the same amount of wealth as the poorer half of humanity. Inequality is increasing all across the globe. The clear warning is that,

“when wealth captures government policymaking, the rules bend to favour the rich, often to the detriment of everyone else.”

Poverty. Inequality. War. The military industrial complex. Human trafficking. Crony capitalism. Humanity requires drastic reorganisation. However, those who benefit from sameness will not make way for variety without resistance.

‘Stop the boats’...but for how long? Mounting Humanitarian Crises and Australia’s Asylum Seekers

Around the world, when natural and man-made hazards meet human vulnerability there are devastating consequences. The impacts of climate change, rapid urbanisation and a growing economic divide will undoubtedly force more people into conditions of extreme disaster risk. It is inevitable that many of these people will attempt to find safe and secure living conditions for their families, away from exposure to disaster risk.

At the same time we are witnessing an explosion of conflict and instability on the global stage. Across multiple continents, people groups are divided across religious, cultural and ideological lines, and as a consequence violent conflict rages. Adding fuel to the fire, spending on global militarisation has grown exponentially in recent times. The impact of this 'arming-to-the-teeth' is felt around the world where such weapons are put into use, usually far away from countries that produce them.

The number of people displaced by conflict and persecution grows daily, as a constant flow of refugees are forced from countries like Iraq and Syria. Those displaced are mainly hosted in adjacent countries but are often hoping for permanent settlement in a safe country, fleeing conflict, persecution and an absence of human rights. In the coming years people will not only flee conditions of disaster risk. They will flee climate change impacts. They will flee conflict and persecution. They will flee poverty and inequality. It is clear that we are facing mounting humanitarian crises in the years to come.

What are the key drivers of these conditions humanity finds herself trapped in? Lack of education? Corruption? Geopolitics? Neoliberal economics? Crony capitalism?

As the international community faces up to an age of human displacement, Australia stands determined to prevent anyone reaching its shores, no matter what they may be fleeing from. A shift towards a military-style border defence operation since the Coalition government took office in 2013, as well as the offshore detention policy carried over from Labour, has drawn widespread criticism from national/global watchdogs. The use of Manus Island and Nauru as a ‘deterrent’ or ‘punishment’ for seeking asylum from the conditions outlined above has brought Australia under the spotlight in the international press. Will cruelty against the victims of global humanitarian crises that arrive in Australia do anything to prevent more and more asylum seekers being produced in future?

Has cruelty ‘stopped the boats’? Or is there a military operation massively invested in locating, stopping and returning the boats? How is the horror of offshore detention making any difference, apart from diminishing Australia’s reputation on the international stage? Is the current cruelty a ‘necessary evil’? What are the other options? Instead of considering a more compassionate way to participate in solving the global displacement crisis, Australia is focused on shipping off its existing refugees arrived by boat, while ensuring that there are no further arrivals by pushing boats back to Indonesia and refouling asylum seekers to Sri Lanka. 

Ask yourself this: If you feared for your own and your family’s safety, would you not use whatever means you had to protect them? If you had the financial means to secure passage to another country to seek asylum, would you instead choose to seek out a refugee camp and wait for 5-10 years for resettlement? We must not ignore the suffering of those asylum seekers with means, simply because there are others without means to do the same thing.

The question is, therefore; for how long can Australia maintain a 'push-back' policy in the face of increasing human displacement, due to mounting humanitarian crises caused by multiple hazards, both rapid and slow-onset, as well as increasingly chronic human vulnerability and global economic inequality?