I am heartened that there has
been an
outpouring of global concern for the girls who were taken. I am
astounded at how quickly attention and concern can grow through social media
and the
pressure it can create. I am worried that this pressure, instead
of targeting the Nigerian government, has veered to pressuring the US,
and will
be used to support even greater US military involvement in the
conflict, and in Africa generally (as the Kony campaign was - and apparently
John McCain has called for the US special forces to go in even without Nigerian
approval). I am fearful that instead of negotiations for their release
this campaign will lead
to a military rescue by a deeply corrupt and dangerous Nigerian
military that is likely to put not only these particular girls but all Nigerian
civilians at greater risk of harm. I am amazed at how few people in the
US seem to realize that Nigeria is a major oil producer and thus a key
part of the US's geopolitical chess game.
Without a clear ask for action, it is
easy for the campaign to be misused for militarized ends. I was reminded by my compa William Payne of this
quote:
"Compassion
is an unstable emotion. It needs to be translated into action, or it
withers… And it is not necessarily better to be moved.
Sentimentality, notoriously, is entirely compatible with a taste for
brutality or worse."
-Susan Sontag (Regarding the Pain of Others)
I am not surprised at how hard it has been to hear
the actual voices of the girls and their families, and their specific asks for
specific actions. Most stories don't even give a number of the missing (53
escaped, 223 were taken). The website chibokgirls was set up to encourage
families to share the photos and individual stories of each girl. But it seems
unlikely these families have the means to do that, or would want to since it is
likely this would increase the stigmatization the girl will already face in her
community once she is returned (since it will be assumed that she has been
raped). So the website is left with no stories, and instead just this creepy
picture representing each girl instead. Much better is this
interview with school girls about what it's like to be a school girl
in Nigeria - but note that they are in school in Lagos, which is quite
different than the rural North in the heart of this armed conflict. I
have only found this
one interview with one of the escaped girls, and it is literally very
hard to hear her, it seems because of her fear though probably also because of
the lack of an English interpreter - a key thing to have if you want to listen
well to people who are afraid and don't speak English as a first language.
There has also been little analysis of
the context in most stories. Have you read any stories about this that talk
about how dangerous it is to protest in Nigeria? How frequently protesters are
killed by the army? Maybe you saw one of the few stories about
one of the mother's of the girls being arrested at a meeting with the First
Lady - but she wasn't actually even one of the mothers, as often portrayed, but
an ally who lived in the city and had been asked by the mothers to go to the
meeting because the leader who was meant to go wasn't able to get through on
the bad roads from Chiboke. She was released a few hours later when it was
confirmed that she was not an imposter, but really?
And what about the context of the
conditions all girls in Northern Nigeria face, where only 4% of girls finish
school and it is one the areas with the most unschooled girls in the world? Or what about the massive environmental degradation across the country, thanks in large part to Shell oil? Meaningful solidarity requires
some sense of context, and dialogue with and leadership from the folks most
directly affected. Both of these seem in scarce supply on this campaign,
and the huge outpouring of solidarity has frequently veered into saviorism.
As Teju Cole put it in his White
Savior Industrial Complex article in reference to the Kony campaign,
"If we are going to interfere in the
lives of others, a little due diligence is a minimum requirement." He went on to say, "there is much more to doing
good work than "making a difference." There is the principle of first
do no harm. There is the idea that those who are being helped ought to be
consulted over the matters that concern them. .... One song we hear too
often is the one in which Africa serves as a backdrop for white fantasies of
conquest and heroism."
But there are plenty
of heroes in Nigeria, who are incredibly brave and struggle for justice even
though it is crazy dangerous. This has been an African led campaign, as you can clearly see in this tweetpic. And there
are plenty of elder African statesmen that could negotiate a prisoner swap. Rather than saving, in the US and Canada we could be doing more powerful
solidarity to support this work.
If the US government
wants to 'help', I suggest it pressure president Jonathan to meet with the
brave Nigerian women leading the campaign, and pressure the Nigerian government
not only to effectively pursue the kidnappers, but also to end human rights
abuses against its own people (like killing and arresting protestors, and not
protecting school children). Perhaps the US could also offer funding and
training to the legal system. But then, ending impunity is not nearly as sexy
as sending in the special forces.
Amnesty has a petition for folks in the
US to sign to pressure the
Nigerian ambassador. I do appreciate that this is one of the few that goes
beyond asking for their safe return to ask that they "ensure that all
children are able to access their right to education in safety, and to respect,
protect and fulfill the human rights of all Nigerians without
discrimination." This petition by human rights first is to the US Defense Secretary, and says the Department of Defense should partner with State and USAID to support anti-corruption, rule of law, and police reforms. It should also ensure that the United States is not allying with people complicit in the victimization of the kidnapped girls or other civilians.
But still, I wish that the asks were more clearly coming from the women leading the campaign on the ground in Nigeria, that we could listen better and hear them and the escaped girls more clearly, and that the hashtag was connected to more context and less militarism.
But there is one critique of this campaign that has been circulating that I disagree with. Megan MacKenzie, amongst others, argues that ‘our girls’ implies ownership rather
than solidarity. I disagree, and am
surprisingly ok with this 'our'. It does not feel appropriative or silencing to
me, in the way that the various ‘I
am’ campaigns have (I
am Malala, I
am Trayvon). For the same reasons
that I liked
We are all Juan, I like #bringbackourgirls. I don’t think it implies that I
AM their mother (or sister, or aunt), but that I am part of their larger
community, and that I stand with them.
