Saw this news article from The Daily Californian about the successful occupation of UC Berkeley’s anthropology library, had to reproduce it in full. Proof that direct action and student occupations can win their demands.
By Amruta Trivedi
Saturday, January 21, 2012 at 9:15 pm
Updated Saturday, January 21, 2012 at 9:25 pm
The occupation of UC Berkeley’s anthropology library ended Saturday evening when campus administrators agreed to meet the demands of protesters and restore the library’s hours.
The demonstration began as a “study-in” Thursday evening in protest of cuts made to the library’s operating hours for the spring semester after a long-time library staffer resigned unexpectedly. About 30 protesters were in the library when news came that their demands had been met.
Tom Leonard, UC Berkeley’s university librarian, signed an agreement with protesters Saturday to restore the anthropology library’s hours to its fall 2011 schedule as soon as students can be recruited to work during those additional morning hours. According to the agreement, recruitment will start on Monday.
The original demands that protesters sent to administrators also requested that the campus find a full-time staff member to work in the library within the next 30 days, but the campus agreed to them only after negotiating to start the search for a full-time staff member in that time period instead, according to Yvette Felarca, a national organizer for BAMN.
Terrence Deacon, the chair of the campus anthropology department, who has spent much the last two days in the library and served as the liaison between library occupiers and campus administrators, said in an email that Leonard signed the agreement after small changes were made. During hours when there is no professionally trained library staff present, the circulation desk will be closed, but the library will remain open for computer use and as a study space, Deacon said in the email.
Deacon, who said he has been in conversation with administrators throughout the protest, said “there is good faith at the administrative level” about the students who occupied the anthropology library.
Although there were changes made to the protesters’ original list of demands, many at the library consider the agreement with administration to be a victory for their cause.
“This is an example for how to protect public education,” Felarca said. “It shows that students and community members are determining what a public university is.”
Amazing news, but 8 prisoners remain on hunger strike.
On 15 November, at approximately 5:00pm were released 2 of the 8 indigenous individuals who for 39 days had engaged in a hunger strike in the State Center for the Reinsertion of the Sentenced (CERSS) no. 5 in San Cristóbal de Las Casas.
José Díaz López, from San Andrés Larráinzar, and Andrés Núñez Hernández, from San Juan Chamula, were freed after their cases were revised, their sentences suspended. The two members of the prisoners group “Those in Solidairty with La Voz del Amate,” adherents to the Other Campaign, had been accused of homicide and were held in prison for more than 9 years. Díaz López, 36 years of age, and Núñez Hernández, 39 years of age, participated together with eight other prisoners in a hunger strike that began on 29 September and ended on 6 November.
With the liberty of these 2 prisoners now there have been freed 4 prisoners…
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This time last year, I joined a group of students occupying Appleton Tower in protest against the introduction of £9k fees. This year, students have once again gone into occupation, this time in support of striking public sector staff, and in opposition to the HE white paper which is set to radically alter higher education. Anthropology is particularly vulnerable, as cuts to arts and humanities departments threaten the immediate future of the discipline. The occupying students have released the following statement:
We are now occupying Appleton Tower, in support of the UCU strike on Wednesday November 30, against the moves of the government to privatise higher education and in defence of the principle that education is a public, social good which should be free for all.
We are currently in the middle of the most aggressive attack on the notion of public education in any of our lifetimes. The White Paper being introduced by the government in Westminster will lead to for-profit institutions, a stratification of our university system and the reinforcing of social barriers. The plans are economically illiterate and will have disastrous effects on the system of higher education in the UK.
We stand in solidarity with student occupations across the UK. In Birmingham students have been blockaded without food and water, threatened with legal action and, unbelievably, even physically assaulted by security. We realise that in Scotland we remain sheltered from some of these effects. But as with the introduction of £9000/year tuition fees in England, which have led directly to the rest of UK fees at our university increasing to £36000 for 4 years, changes in the funding and organisation of universities in England, Wales and Northern Ireland will affect what happens here. That tuition fees, directly or deferred in the form of a graduate tax, have not been reintroduced for Scottish students is testament to the anger and action shown by students in Scotland last year. If we wish to defend our system and move towards a genuinely egalitarian position – where students are supported through their degrees, courses and staff are properly funded and no one is priced out of education – we must make a stand now.
We aim to persuade staff and students that education does not have to be considered as a commodity to be traded for profit but is instead a public good which benefits all of society. That education is not simply a means to future employment but has intrinsic worth in itself. That universities do not have to be run as if they were a private business, but can be democratically controlled by their staff and students.
Next week lecturers, librarians, IT staff and others will be on strike as part of the largest coordinated action undertaken in generations. We will be standing with them on their picket lines, supporting them in their struggle for a decent pension and the ability to retire in dignity. Their struggle is ours. If unions lose their fight, we will suffer when we come to start pensions of our own on leaving university.
We call on all students to support their staff, to refuse to cross picket lines and work from home or join us on the pickets. Pickets are not just for show; they are not symbolic nor are they just another way to express your unhappiness. They are a weapon – the only weapon workers often have to balance the relation of power between themselves and their employers. To cross a picket line is to undermine a strike. If you support the aims of the staff you must refuse to cross.
Our occupation is to defend education and our university. We do not intend or expect to disrupt teaching and hope that the university will not choose to cancel or move lectures or events happening in Appleton.
We invite all students and staff at Edinburgh University to visit our occupation and to join us. We hope that you will.
A review of the methodology in Shannon Speed’s ethnography from Chiapas, Mexico, focussing on her championing of activist anthropology.
Shannon Speed’s monograph charts the growth of human rights discourse in Chiapas in the wake of the 1994 Zapatista uprising (Speed 2006). Throughout the book, Speed argues strongly in favour of ‘activist anthropology’, and argues that anthropologists can move beyond the “demobilising” (Ibid. 3) reflexive turn of the 1980s by instead choosing to make their own political positioning clear in their texts. Speed uses her own experience as a human rights worker in multiple NGOs in Chiapas to inform her study of human rights, and argues that her professional work contributed positively to the communities she was studying.
Speed points out that in the context of the Zapatista uprising it is impossible to remain neutral, and that showing an interest in human rights automatically aligned her with the Zapatistas (Ibid. 8). Without making her political positioning clear, she argues, she would not have been able to gain access to communities loyal to the EZLN, and would have been shunned by the human rights communities. Speed explains how her work with the NGOs led her to produce a multi-cited ethnography where she “followed the discourse” as far as she could, but of course being aligned to the Zapatistas meant she was unable to follow the discourse into the arena of the State as this door was closed to her.
In the preface to her book, Speed examines her own motivations for carrying out this research, explaining that her background as a feminist Native American with a commitment to “ongoing struggle for social justice… shaped [her] engagement with anthropology and the kinds of questions [she] was interested in researching” (Ibid. 5). Whilst Speed does not make claims that the Zapatista struggle is her struggle, unlike many other well-meaning internationals “who have lost their hearts to someone else’s revolution” (Barmeyer 2009: xiii), she instead sought to find “overlaps” between her political goals and those of her research subjects (who she refers to as her political allies), whilst remaining constantly aware of the power imbalance implicit in their relationship.
Speed discusses the importance of “decolonizing practice” in anthropology in the preface to her book, and argues that “formulating explicitly activist research alliances, making our own political commitments explicit upfront, and maintaining the social dynamics of the research process open to an ongoing dialogue with the research subjects” is the logical conclusion of being a “reflexive” anthropologist (Speed 2006: 7). Speed assures us that her research subjects collaborated with her in setting the research agenda (Ibid. 8). She makes reference to “participant observation” (Ibid. 13) and interviews with informants, and stresses that her day to day work has been the most crucial tool in her research.
Methodology within the text
Large amounts of the monograph consist of historical reviews of human rights and legal discourse in Chiapas. Speed does not detail the process of this thorough historical research, and the reader must assume that many hours were spent researching the subject. Speed cites at the beginning of Chapter 7 that for certain subjects, such as the inner workings of the EZLN’s governance body, she did not seek permission to publish information gathered from fieldwork nor would she have wanted to, as to do so may compromise the security of the communities she worked in:
Even if I had permission to publish such description, at this time it would not have been prudent… descriptions of the workings of the [Zapatista] authority structure, while they provide fascinating material for analysis, could put some people at greater risk. (Ibid. 157)
Instead she relied on readily available speeches and texts to illustrate her arguments, although her words seem to express a certain regret for not being able to analyse her own material here.
Speed opens up her chapters with short vignettes and quotes from her fieldwork that highlight the topics she wishes to address, and while these glimpses into the everyday lives of her informants are evocatively described, Speed does not attempt to paint a picture of daily life in Chiapas, and we do not “get to know” her informants, who make brief appearances to situate a discussion, before disappearing from the text to make way for more documentary evidence or explanations of the issues at hand which we can assume is based on the author’s own knowledge and experience of the subject matter. On the occasions that Speed does provide more typically ethnographic descriptions of her time in the field, these are used to great effect to illustrate her arguments. For example, her description of arriving in a Zapatista community for the first time beautifully captures the frustrations she experienced in trying to gain research permission in the first place and the tension she felt upon arrival to the community while the officials tried to determine exactly what kind of outsider she was, which is then juxtaposed by the immediate, unquestioning acceptance she was granted the moment it was clear she was “from human rights”:
His face broke into a relieved smile. I was from human rights. I was on their side. I was one of them. He began to shake my hand… and children poured out from behind the buildings and gathered around me. They whisked me off to a house… within an hour I had fresh tortillas, avocados and limes, and a dozen or more children to keep me company. (Ibid. 60)
This kind of description is rare in Speed’s monograph, which rarely strays from the examination of human rights work and the role of NGOs in Chiapas. Whilst other ethnographies may be criticised for similar tactics which could be seen to write the author out of the text, Speed gives the impression that she does not wish to remove herself from the text altogether but instead keep the focus on the indigenous communities she is concerned with. Warren warns against the tendency within activist anthropology to present the author as in some way “heroic”, or turn the work into an “individualised process of discovery” and thus fail to acknowledge other sources (Warren 2006: 221). Speed has avoided this trap by acknowledging her positioning and agenda upfront in the preface to her book, but then refused to make her own voice and journey the focus of her book.
Whilst Speed does not explain the everyday “methodology” involved in her NGO work, she instead explains the work of the NGO in general, and makes references throughout the text to “interviews” with informants, but rarely details what these involved or challenges she faced. An exception to this can be found in chapter 5, where she struggles to find a way to diplomatically represent a bitter feud between women in one of the communities she worked with, many of whom were close friends of hers. The women had fallen out in her absence over accusations of abuse of political power, and Speed discusses the difficulty she faced in trying to piece together what had happened in her absence and account for it in as unbiased a way as possible in her text:
As an activist and individual involved in the social dynamics, I was personally affected by some of the fallout associated with this conflict. Nevertheless, I deeply respect women in both camps… and owe a debt of gratitude to the time they spent answering my questions… There were many conflicting versions of events and it would be fruitless to attempt to establish whose account was right and whose was wrong. (Ibid. 129)
Speed makes further reference to the anxieties she faced in trying to broach this subject with the women she talked to, and it is clear from the text that this was a very difficult period of her fieldwork. She explains being wary of asking questions about it to her informants lest she inflame a situation that appeared to have died down, but yet she needs to gain some understanding before she will be able to work in the community again.
Speed is critical of the role played by the NGO she worked for during her fieldwork. She reveals elsewhere that the NGO in question was founded by her husband (Speed 2006a: 69), but this close personal link to the NGO is omitted from her monograph. In the monograph Speed explains how NGOs in Chiapas are at risk of reinforcing the rhetoric of personal responsibility and “active citizenship” central to the very neoliberal doctrine the Zapatistas are fighting against, and warns against promoting a human rights discourse that can be co-opted by the State in it’s attempts to discredit the movement, citing previous examples where “the government tried to utilise the discourse of individual human rights to justify it’s campaign of dismantling Zapatista autonomous municipalities” (Speed 2006: 77). Elsewhere in the text she describes the dilemmas she faces between her own notions of collective human rights and those promoted by NGOs and at time by the Zapatistas, and remains critical of NGO involvement in the region (Ibid. 115).
Speed concludes the book with a strong defence of her “activist anthropologist” stance, where she appears to anticipate her detractors and answer their criticisms, acknowledging that “there will be some who will feel I am romanticising the Zapatista movement” (Ibid. 175). She continues to argue that activist anthropology allows political positioning to be made explicit in the pursuit of wider social goals, an argument backed up by Sanford in her introduction to the book Engaged Observer, who states that “all research is inherently political, even, and perhaps especially, that scholarship presented under the guise of ‘objectivity’, which is really no more than a veiled defense of the status quo” (Sanford 2006: 14). In the same volume, Philipe Bourgois advocates for an anthropology with “political teeth as well as theoretical depth” (Bourgois 2006: xi) and argues that anthropologists have a duty to take a side and “write against inequality” (Ibid. x). Speed is open about her motives in researching the Chiapas conflict, and admits that she left out various data as “the likely political effects of publishing [it] were not ones I wished to participate in generating” (Speed 2006: 175).
Barmeyer, N. (2009): ‘Developing Zapatista Autonomy: Conflict and NGO Involvement in Rebel Chiapas’ University of New Mexico Press
Bourgois, P. (2006): ‘Anthropology in the Global State of Emergency’ in Engaged Observer: Anthropology, Advocacy and Activism, Sanford and Angel Ajani (eds), Rutgers University Press
Sanford, V. (2006): ‘Introduction’ in Engaged Observer: Anthropology, Advocacy and Activism, Sanford and Angel Ajani (eds), Rutgers University Press
Speed, S (2006a): ‘At the crossroads of Human Rights and Anthropology: Toward a Critically Engaged Activist Research’ in American Anthropologist 108(1)
Speed, S. (2006) ‘Rights in Rebellion: Indigenous Struggle and Human Rights in Chiapas’ Stanford University Press
Warren, K. (2006): ‘Perils and Promises of Engaged Anthropology’ in Engaged Observer: Anthropology, Advocacy and Activism, Sanford and Angel Ajani (eds), Rutgers University Press
A few really interesting articles in The Guardian recently.
This article about the US syphilis study in Guatemala, where orphans, prostitutes, conscripts and prisoners were deliberately infectd with diseases so they could then be studied.
More than half of the subjects were low-ranking soldiers delivered by their superiors to US physicians working from a military base in the capital. The Americans initially arranged for infected prostitutes to have sex with prisoners before discovering it was more “efficient” to inject soldiers, psychiatric patients and orphans with the bacterium.
Guatemala’s official inquiry, headed by its vice-president, is due to publish its report in June. “What impacted me the most was how little value was given to these human lives. They were seen as things to be experimented on,” said Carlos Mejia, a member of the inquiry and head of the Guatemalan College of Physicians.
Next up, an article about the Peace Caravan touring Mexico in protest of Calderon’s War on Drugs. 40,000 people have lost their lives in Mexico since Calderon began his campaign, including the son of Javier Sicilia, a Mexican poet, who was killed, presumably by drug gangs. The protest is calling for an end to the “force-based strategy” and instead asks the government to tackle the underlying poverty that fuels the drugs trade. It seems that a lot of the press focusses on the caravan protesting “drug violence”, which implies the cartels and reinforces the idea that the relatives of the deceased are asking for the government to fight harder, when in fact this is not the case. In an open letter, Javier Silicia addresses both the “political class” and the criminal gangs,
If you, “señores” politicians do not govern well and do not take seriously that we live in a state of national emergency that requires your unity, and you, “señores” criminals, do not limit your actions, you will end up winning and having power but you will govern and reign over a mountain of ossuaries and of beings that are beaten and destroyed in their souls, a dream that none of us envy.
The protest is not just about the gangs, it is very much about the “bad government” and their actions, too.
Further north, the Guardian brings us a report about prescription painkiller addiction in the US, where Florida is doing booming business in oxycodone, all fun and games until someone looses an eye (or overdoses and dies). Although a few people are getting super-rich off it, so at least that’s one good thing…