Showing posts with label Prisoners. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Prisoners. Show all posts

October 13, 2020

Refugees, Indigenous People, Transgenders and Prisoners : Latin American Governments’ Miscommunication with the Most Vulnerable Communities During COVID- 19

 By Marcelo Rodriguez and Victoria De La Torre

        In times of a pandemic, vital information becomes a matter of life and death. However, at a time when civilians need it the most, the overnight transformation of government information into a solely virtual presence has created a plethora of issues as well as even more obstacles to reach the most vulnerable communities. These insecurities have transformed any vital pandemic-related information emanating from the government into a minefield of contradictory, constantly-changing, and at times erroneous messaging. When it comes to vulnerable communities, feelings of mistrust and fear have exacerbated and exposed a pattern of insufficient resources and isolation. We have chosen to concentrate our research on four vulnerable communities in the region: Refugees, Indigenous, Transgender and Prisoners. From the perspective of these four vulnerable groups, we would like to highlight how the new virtual reality of exclusively online government information has left these groups stranded and isolated when they needed these government services the most.
         The pandemic has essentially halted all global, international migration as borders close, and workers return to their home countries. Over 120 countries have closed their borders all over the world citing Coronavirus as the primary reason, and only 30 of those countries currently accept asylum claims. Peru was home to some 865,000 Venezuelan migrants prior to COVID-19. A significant number of them has been returning home due to lack of work during Peru’s pandemic shutdown, which led to a 16.25% drop in GDP during the month of March alone. Venezuelan makeshift border quarantine facilities built along the border in small villages and communities to contain migrants and refugees are hotbeds for contamination and spreading illness. Hundreds of people and children are forced to stay for two weeks in these facilities without beds, clean water, or food beyond rice and lentils while endangering the civilians whose homes and schools have been commandeered.

Latin America’s waves of immigration are not solely composed of migrant workers attempting to return home, but it is also inclusive of those traveling as refugees because risking exposure to COVID-19 is less of a threat to their lives and families than staying home. Few cities, like Mexico City, consider registering asylum to be essential work and permit refugees within its borders despite the rate of applicants plummeting to below 90%. The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, Filippo Grandi urges that “... securing public health and protecting refugees are not mutually exclusive.”

            Historically disenfranchised and in the margins of most Latin American societies, COVID-19 seriously threatens the very existence of indigenous groups throughout the region. The circumstances and problems facing these communities are known by the authorities, and they have been extensively studied. Lack of adequate health services, precarious sanitary conditions, lack of access to digital technology and discrimation in accessing government services are among the main problems aggravating any government’s response to the current COVID-19 pandemic in indigenous communities. Weaker immune systems and isolation have come to exacerbate an already fragile situation. Despite the fact that some indigenous communities have opted for even more isolation in order to avoid contagion, groups such as Indigenous Organisations of the Amazon Basin, Peru’s Amazon indigenous federation, Colombia’s national indigenous organization have called upon their respective national governments as well as international organizations to reach out to all groups with the vital information needed regarding the pandemic. A complete lack of coordination among national lockdowns, border closures and state of emergencies have made the situation untenable and counterproductive to any efforts to contain the virus anywhere. 

        On April 2, Peru, together with Panama, began restricting movement by gender. Women and men were allowed to leave their houses exclusively on the three days assigned to their gender. No one was allowed to leave their houses on Sundays. This gender-based restrictive policy proved to be controversial with the transgender community in Peru as well as creating a significant amount of confusion and chaos. On April 10, Peru canceled the controversial policy. However, as far as we know, Panama has continued its implementation, and since the end of April, Colombia’s capital city, Bogota has decided to implement a similar policy. These failed and discriminatory policies are unfortunately part of a pattern of transphobia which COVID-19 has exacerbated or has brought to everyone’s attention: lack of access to health care, harassment by the public as well as police forces, and fear to report any abuses

         When the remains of Victor Calderón’s son were returned to him after the Venezuelan prison riot that reportedly killed 47 inmates, the remains were numbered “128” suggesting a much higher, unknown death toll. The anarchy is said to have been provoked by abusive guards stealing food from inmates in addition to the deplorable, barbaric conditions the inmates are forced to endure. Prison riots are not out of the norm in Latin American countries, where power is often held by crime groups with the consent of the guards and wardens, and a high percentage of inmates are still awaiting trial without having received a conviction. While governments scramble to protect themselves from the Novel Coronavirus, prisoners are among the minority groups being forgotten. In response, riots have broken out in prisons across Peru where convicted politicians are being released to avoid the virus, Brazil, Mexico, Argentina, and Colombia, where the prisons have become the epicenter of the Covid outbreak. Over 580,000 detainees from 80 countries have been authorized for release, which is only 5% of the prisoners in those countries. Few of them have actually been released.

            In a matter of two weeks, numerous countries in Latin America and the Caribbean declared national lockdowns due to the unprecedented and challenging COVID-19 pandemic. Despite its differences, the many national lockdowns dramatically transformed all government communication and functions to exclusively virtual messaging within a matter of days. Given the abrupt change of communication format as well as the lack of preparedness and resources, governments in the region had to learn a new set of rules and dynamics which consequently have exacerbated issues of disinformation, lack of transparency, and accountability especially towards the most vulnerable communities. 

September 29, 2017

Political Report # 1279 Obama's Guantánamo Legacy Lingers in Trump Era




By By Aisha Maniar, Truthout 


While President Trump has quickly developed a more violent record than Obama on drone warfare, immigration and other policy areas, Trump has thus far not embraced Guantánamo and made it his own the way that Obama did in 2009.
The 41 prisoners who remained at the Guantánamo Bay prison camp when Obama left office continue to be the only prisoners in the camp, and the arbitrary regime continues almost entirely as it did under Obama. Trump's odd tweets about Guantánamo, such as his tweet about the alleged recidivism rate of former prisoners, are about as meaningful and effective as his tweets about covfefe and the country needing to "heel."
Many of the 197 men released from Guantánamo by the Obama administration continue to suffer the repercussions of their imprisonment every day. More than two-thirds of releases under Obama were of men resettled in third countries. Most were effectively rendered refugees who could not return to their country of origin, either due to the safety risk that resulted from their association with Guantánamo or due to the United States' foreign policy of war and hostility in states such as Yemen and Syria.
The problems for prisoners transferred to third countries where they had no friends, family, job or connections, and often could not speak the local language, started almost immediately. Coupled with intrusive surveillance and restrictions, freedom remained elusive.


September 13, 2017

Political Report # 1276 How the US Imposes the Worst of Its Prison Paradigm Abroad




 
By Nasim Chatha, Truthout 


The new federal penitentiary in Santa Barbara, Honduras, occupies a strip of land between a highway and cloudy, forested hills. "El Pozo," or The Pit, as it's known, is surrounded by barbed wire and has two additional checkpoints beyond the first gate. It's a maximum-security facility, one of three that have popped up since 2009. Before these were built, Honduras had no maximum-security prisons. El Pozo is one of the products of a United States international prison management program that infuses Latin American penitentiary cultures with some of the most inhumane aspects of US prison systems, and provides no benefit in terms of real security.
At least $22 million have been devoted to a US international prison program focused mainly on Central American prisons. This program operates out of a web of government offices and programs, most prominently the Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs (INL) of the US State Department. Because of the extent to which information is classified, it is difficult to track exactly what prison management entails, but it's clear that the US has in some way been involved in the prison systems of at least 34 countries. US activities include training, imparting management strategies and building new prisons. 
The sprawling El Pozo is a departure from Honduras's prisons before 2009, when the US prison program began in Honduras. It looks exactly like a US prison -- it even has a disabled parking spot (unlike, unfortunately, almost any other building in Honduras). Just 15 kilometers away from El Pozo in the city of Santa Barbara, the local, pre-2009 prison is more typical. Located one block from the city's main square, it is a nondescript yellow building built on a steep hill, marked only by a hand-painted sign. The sidewalk outside is occupied by pedestrians and vendors selling goods under awnings. Prison policy permits regular family visits, and family may bring food and some other items. Compared to many US prisons, the prison at Santa Barbara is relatively open to the outside community. This is the type of prison that, with the advent of the US program, has now been deemed inadequate for many of Honduras's incarcerated people.
Indeed, Honduran prisons have long been home to corruption and violence. It is a common occurrence for dozens of incarcerated gang members to escape all at once while guards look the other way, or for an unchecked fire to massacre hundreds. Many of the elites of organized crime remain involved in criminal enterprise while on the inside. The right-wing Honduran government chooses not to view these problems as symptoms of broader societal corruption and impunity, but instead as an issue of weak prison facilities.

August 2, 2017

Political Report # 1264 My Visit With One of the Forgotten Prisoners of Guantánamo

 15 years later, the detention camp has become a place where time has no meaning.

Last month, I took my first trip to the US military detention camp at Guantánamo Bay to visit Sufyian Barhoumi. As a military handler drove me and my colleagues from the Center for Constitutional Rights (CCR) down the winding road from the ferry landing to the camp, I marveled at the lush green hills and sparkling blue water around us. The serenely beautiful setting stands in stark contrast to the detention camp, which is jarringly ugly: Endless rolls of rusty barbed wire, layers of fencing enmeshed with opaque green cloth, cages with peeling paint, gravel pits where grass should be. A warehouse to store men we don’t know what to do with.
Guantánamo is a sprawling network of several smaller detention camps. Many of the camps, such as Camp Iguana, where children were held, are no longer in use. Currently, detainees are housed in two different camps. Fourteen “high value detainees,” who were interrogated at the CIA’s notorious “black sites” prior to being shipped to Guantánamo, are held in Camp 7. The rest, like Sufyian, are held in Camp 6. At Camp Echo, the site designated for client meetings, my colleagues and I are ushered into a tiny office. We submit our papers to a member of the Privilege Review Team (PRT), who must approve and stamp them before we can bring them into our meeting. The detainees and anyone who interacts with them are subject to a gag order. Very little information is allowed in, and very little is allowed out.
Attorneys must obtain security clearances to meet with their clients because everything the detainees say is presumptively classified, even now, a decade and a half after they were brought here. The PRT must ensure that their utterances don’t pose a threat to national security before they can be declassified and shared with the public. I applied for my clearance to see Sufyian a few months before I graduated from law school; it took nearly 10 months to process.

September 14, 2015

Political Report #1076, "Guantánamo Diary'' Reveals How US Empire Can Capture, Torture and Imprison With Impunity By Mark Karlin, Truthout


 

A detainee walks up the stairs in a cell block common area of Camp 5 at Guantanamo Bay US Naval Base in Cuba, August 20, 2014. (Photo: Damon Winter/The New York Times)

By Mark Karlin, Truthout

Mohamedou Ould Slahi has never been charged him with a crime by the United States government, yet he as been imprisoned at Guantánamo Bay since 2002. Three years into his captivity, Slahi began writing a diary, recounting life before and after this terrible miscarriage of justice befell him. Guantánamo Diary is a tremendously important book, and it can be yours to own by making a donation to Truthout today.
Given that the author of Guantánamo Diary - Mohamedou Ould Slahi - is still imprisoned there and prohibited from talking with the media, Truthout interviewed human rights activist and writer Larry Siems, who is the editor of Mohamedou Ould Slahi's handwritten diary. Siems is the former Director of Freedom to Write and International Programs at PEN American Center. He is also the author of The Torture Report: What the Documents Say About America's Post-9/11 Torture Program.