Chinese painter, poet and photographer Liu Xia is free after eight years of illegal house arrest in China. The widow of Nobel laureate Liu Xiaobo, who passed away last year, is now making a new life for herself in Germany.
What happened?
Liu Xia, 57, was forced to stay at home under heavy surveillance and subjected to intimidation by the Chinese authorities after her late husband was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2010. Liu Xia was closely monitored by state security agents and could only be reached by her closest friends by phone in limited circumstances.
Liu Xiaobo was sentenced to 11 years in prison in 2009 for ‘inciting subversion of state power’ after he helped devise a call for political reform in China, known as Charter 08. The Nobel Peace laureate died in custody of liver cancer in July 2017, the authorities refusing his last wish to travel abroad to receive treatment. He was recognised by Amnesty International as a Prisoner of Conscience.
In April, Liu Xia said she was “prepared to die” under house arrest, during a telephone conversation with her friend Liao Yiwu, an exiled writer. A harrowing recording of this conversation was released on 2 May 2018.
In August 2010 Amnesty International’s Regional Director for East Asia, Nicholas Bequelin, wrote to the President of China to draw attention to Amnesty International’s petition to end the illegal house arrest and surveillance of Liu Xia, stop the harassment, and allow her to travel freely. Almost 70,000 people from around the world signed the petition.
In Australia almost 3,000 people signed our petition calling on the Chinese authorities to free Liu Xia. We would like to thank everyone who took action – your efforts made a real difference.
While it is great news that Liu Xia is free, there is still work to be done. China Researcher at Amnesty International, Patrick Poon, said: “It is wonderful news that Liu Xia is finally free and that her persecution and illegal detention at the hands of the Chinese authorities has come to an end, nearly one year since Liu Xiaobo’s untimely and undignified death.
“Liu Xia never gave up on her wrongfully imprisoned late husband, and for this she was cruelly punished. The Chinese authorities tried to silence her, but she stood tall for human rights. However, after eight years under illegal house arrest her health is a cause for genuine concern.
“Now, the harassment of Liu Xia’s family who remain in China must end too. It would be most callous of the Chinese authorities to use Liu Xia’s relatives to put pressure on Liu Xia to prevent her from speaking out in the future.”
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This NAIDOC Week we’re celebrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island culture, talent and resilience. Find out more about NAIDOC Week and how you can get involved in your local area.
What does NAIDOC stand for?
Okay, it’s a long one: NAIDOC stands for ‘National Aboriginal and Islanders Day of Observance Committee’.
NAIDOC Week is celebrated every year during the first full week in July and this year it runs from 8 to 5 July.
This year’s theme celebrates the crucial role Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women play at community, state and national levels.
NAIDOC Week: a brief history
NAIDOC Week became a week-long event in 1975 but its roots can be traced back to the Indigenous protest movement of the 1920s and the civil rights gathering known as the Day of Mourning, held in 1938.
1924–32: Several organisations, including the Australian Aborigines Progressive Association (AAPA) and Australian Aborigines League (AAL), are founded to give structure to a burgeoning protest movement against poor treatment of Indigenous Australians. The efforts of these organisations were largely overlooked and the AAPA abandone their work in 1927 due to police harassment.
1938–55: On Australia Day, 1938, protestors march in Sydney. Known as the Day of Mourning, this is one of the first major civil rights gatherings in the world.
The Day of Mourning is held annually on the Sunday before Australia Day until 1955, and is known as Aborigines Day. In 1955 Aborigines Day moves to the first Sunday in July so that it can be a celebration of Aboriginal culture and not just a day of protest.
1956: The National Aborigines Day Observance Committee (NADOC) is formed and the second Sunday in July becomes a day of remembrance for Indigenous people.
1972: Department of Aboriginal Affairs is formed as a result of the 1967 referendum.
1974: The NADOC committee is composed entirely of Aboriginal members for the first time.
1975: NADOC becomes a week-long event, running from the first to second Sunday in July.
1991: NADOC is expanded to recognise Torres Strait Islander people and culture. NADOC becomes NAIDOC. This new name becomes the title for the whole week, not just the day. Each year, a theme is chosen to reflect the important issues and events for NAIDOC Week.
Mid-1990s: The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission (ATSIC) takes over management of NAIDOC until ATSIC is disbanded in 2004–05.
2018: The theme of NAIDOC 2018 is ‘Because of her, we can’ – celebrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women.
Every year, NAIDOC focuses on a theme and city. This year’s theme is ‘Because of her, we can’ and 2018’s National NAIDOC Awards Ceremony will be held in Sydney.
This year’s theme celebrates the crucial role Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women play at community, state and national levels. They fight for justice, equal rights, access to education and employment and the right to maintain and celebrate Indigenous culture.
Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women have been maintaining the world’s oldest continuing culture through language, music and art for thousands of years. From politicians to activists and doctors to sporting icons, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women continue to inspire and pave the way for generations to come.
Responding to today’s decision by a Yangon court to formally charge Reuters journalists, Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo, with breaching the country’s Official Secrets Act, Tirana Hassan, Amnesty International’s Director of Crisis Response, said:
“This is a black day for press freedom in Myanmar. The court’s decision to proceed with this farcical, politically motivated case has deeply troubling and far-reaching implications for independent journalism in the country.
“In their investigations of military operations in Rakhine State, Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo were simply doing what journalists are meant to do – expose the truth and hold the powerful to account. Charging them under this draconian law – even after widespread national and international condemnation – is a clear sign that the authorities are intent on silencing critical voices. It also serves notice to other journalists working in the country that speaking out comes with serious consequences.
“The decision is further evidence of the worrying regression of press freedom in Myanmar over recent years. Threats, intimidation and even jail time are daily hazards of the job for the country’s journalists. Independent journalism and the right to freedom of expression must be protected, starting with the immediate and unconditional release of Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo.”
Background
Wa Lone and Kyaw Soe Oo were arrested in Yangon, Myanmar’s main city, on 12 December 2017. At the time, the two men had been investigating military operations in northern Rakhine State. These operations were marked by crimes against humanity targeting the Rohingya population, including deportation, unlawful killings, rape, torture and burning of homes and villages.
The two journalists were held incommunicado for two weeks before being transferred to Yangon’s Insein prison. The Official Secrets Act – one of a number of repressive laws in Myanmar – carries a maximum sentence of 14 years in prison.
Following the sentencing of six former columnists and editors of the shuttered Zaman newspaper to jail terms of between eight-and-a-half and ten-and-a-half years, and the acquittal of five others, Fotis Filippou, Amnesty International’s Campaign Director for Europe said:
“Yet again, journalists have received criminal convictions under anti-terror laws with nothing more than their critical writings presented as evidence. These absurd convictions have sent a further shock through Turkey’s already devastated media landscape. They must be overturned immediately.
“Whilst all were acquitted of ‘attempting to overthrow the constitutional order’ and five were acquitted of all charges, the conviction of six journalists on terrorism charges without a shred of credible evidence against them shows that the systematic attempt to silence the media in Turkey continues.”
Background
İhsan Dağı, Lale Sarıibrahimoğlu, Nuriye Ural Akman, Mehmet Özdemir and Orhan Kemal Cengiz were acquitted.
Ahmet Turan Alkan, Şahin Alpay and Ali Bulaç were sentenced to eight years and nine months. Mustafa Ünal and Mümtazer Türköne were sentence to 10 years and six months. İbrahim Karayeğen was sentenced to nine years.
The “Zaman trial” opened on 18 September 2017, 14 months after many of its defendants were imprisoned pending their prosecution. The court ruling came at the end of the fifth hearing in the case. Four of the 11 defendants have spent almost two years in pre-trial detention.
On 6 June, Amnesty International marked the one year anniversary of the arrest of the Honorary Chair of Amnesty Turkey Taner Kılıç.
In just three short months Amnesty Australia’s new refugee campaign, ‘My New Neighbour’, has gone from strength to strength, revealing the true power behind local grassroots activism.
My New Neighbour campaign
The My New Neighbour campaign is a neighbourhood-led solution to help refugees – people who are seeking to rebuild their lives somewhere safe. It’s all about people power and giving communities the opportunity to lead the change from within.
We hit the streets just three months ago and already activists across the country have been building public support that cannot be ignored by our political leaders. Even though it’s still early in the campaign the wins are coming in thick and fast.
Hard work and dedication from staff, volunteers, activists and supporters means that to date, 10 councils have stood with refugees and passed unanimous motions in support of community sponsorship.
Maribyrnong City Council unanimously supported the community sponsorship motion proposed by Mayor Cuc Lam, a former refugee who fled to Australia from Vietnam. Mayor Lam called on the Federal Government to step up and ensure that the intake of refugees under community sponsorship is above and beyond any existing humanitarian or visa quotas and to lower the program’s prohibitive visa fees.
Fremantle City Council also unanimously supported the call for expanding and improving the Australian Government’s current refugee community sponsorship program. The Council acknowledged the work of activists and the importance they play in our communities. Councilor Sam Wainwright said: “You don’t shut your door to people who are running for their lives.”
Left to right: Fremantle Mayor Brad Pettitt, Fremantle Amnesty group convener Libby Williams and group members Rachel Cowcher, Helen O’Brien, Jasmine Ruscoe with Councilor Sam Wainwright.
In a fantastic show of support for welcoming refugees three councils – Albury,Wodonga and Wagga Wagga – simultaneously passed motions, marking a significant moment in Australia’s response to the global refugee situation. Australians want better solutions and councils like these are leading the way.
We even got a shout-out on Twitter from Chinese contemporary artist and activist Ai Wei Wei after our amazing Maroochydore Group in Queensland screened his new documentary, ‘Human Flow’ and tweeted about it.
How you’re helping
Early in the campaign almost 12,000 Australians signed our petition calling on the Australian Government to expand and improve community sponsorship for refugees so that more families can rebuild their lives in safety.
As a result, in March this year the ACT Government passed a motion calling on the Federal Government to expand the refugee community sponsorship program.
We couldn’t have done that without your support.
And thank you to our amazing activists across the country for their persistence, hard work and passion for refugee rights. These wins will continue to grow. But the work does not stop with the councils already supporting us – it’s important that we continue to bring our communities with us on the journey.
What’s next?
As the campaign heats up, we’ll be casting our net beyond councils to other leaders in our community: our teachers, local businesses and sporting heroes. We look forward to hearing more voices raised loudly and proudly to welcome refugees.
The Western Bulldogs have added their support and voice to the campaign by calling for more community-led programs like community sponsorship. This is in addition to their great work in helping to resettle refugees in the western suburbs of Melbourne. Check out this video about their resettlement work and community sponsorship. Who will be next to join the call?
Claire Harris, winner of the Amnesty International Australia Blogging Competition 2018, gives us her account of her visit Shatila refugee camp in Palestine.
“I am terrorist”, the teenage boy says and he laughs. His friend leans on his shoulder and flashes a beaming set of straight white teeth.
I am on my way to meet the director of the Children and Youth Centre of Shatila Refugee Camp in the suburbs of Beirut. It is just a fifteen minute drive from the ultra-modern downtown where families stroll along the waterfront and more fortunate eighteen-year-olds than the two before me cruise around in Peugeots pumping Arabic pop music and smoke hookah before an explosive red-and-yellow sunset.
It is a maze of seven-storey high matchbox compartments, filthy grey and draped with layers of washing, the concrete balconies towering over narrow alleys strewn with rubbish and soaked in sewage.
Even though Shatila is called a refugee camp, it is actually a neighbourhood and its inhabitants are not refugees; the younger generation were born here, the older have called it home for thirty years. It is a maze of seven-storey high matchbox compartments, filthy grey and draped with layers of washing, the concrete balconies towering over narrow alleys strewn with rubbish and soaked in sewage. The gap between the buildings, sometimes no more than a metre or two wide, is hung with an ugly net of thick black cables, so low you could put your hand up and touch them.
Under this mess of electrical wires, the children play. “Take photo, take photo!” they shout, posing with their two fingers raised in the international sign of peace. Snap! They scurry to grab some toys that lie scattered about the paved concrete. “Take photo, take photo!” they cry again and this time they hold plastic guns in the air, brandishing these fake weapons above their heads. Snap.
Behind them, the walls are painted thick with a jumble of Palestinian flags, images of jail bars and chains, burning American flags, a swastika staring from anti-Israeli scribblings and the bricks are plastered with peeling posters of ‘heroes’ who have defied America and Israel – an unlikely combination of Yasser Arafat, Saddam Hussein and Che Guevara.
When two young men walk past strapped with bullet-proof vests and carrying huge semi-automatic guns, not one of these children bats an eyelid.
There is no space for the kids to run around in the cramped alleys so they are crammed into the two cybercafes where they use virtual guns to shoot animated soldiers. When two young men walk past strapped with bullet-proof vests and carrying huge semi-automatic guns, not one of these children bats an eyelid.
An old lady sitting in a doorway beckons me toward the single room she lives in and makes me tea over the flame of a gas stove on the floor beside her mattress. On the walls hang photos of her three sons, all killed before they reached middle-age. When I ask her about the armed men, she mutters “Security” and says no more.
The boy who called himself a terrorist is still watching me: “Welcome to Shatila,” he grins. “Welcome to Paradise.” They are two beautiful boys with smooth Arabian complexions and gelled hair, dressed in jeans, fitted t-shirts and high-top sneakers. You could find them in a nightclub in London. But they are here.
Mahmoud has come from a camp in North Lebanon which has been under siege by the Lebanese army for ten days. He smiles when he says that his brother was killed last week. He smiles when he describes how he ran from the camp alone when there was a break in the fighting. He tells me that his mother is still back there along with several thousand residents because she is tired of running but now he is looking at the ground and shuffling the gravel beneath his feet.
The Palestinians of northern Lebanon have recently fled to Shatila, refugees from a refugee camp. Hundreds of families in Shatila opened their tiny homes to welcome the strangers.
“Who helped you escape?” I ask. The question seems to take him by surprise. He flashes a look of defiance. “Nobody.”
The Palestinians of northern Lebanon have recently fled to Shatila, refugees from a refugee camp. Hundreds of families in Shatila opened their tiny homes to welcome the strangers. A few days later, when fighting erupted at another camp in the south causing thousands more to flee, more people were packed into the massively overcrowded 40,000 square metres that already houses at least 17,000 people.
Palestinians in Lebanon are banned from owning their own homes outside of designated areas, Mahmoud explains. Confined to squalid areas like Shatila and barred from well-paid jobs, those that can find employment at all work only the most menial jobs for a pittance. They will never possess Lebanese citizenship, neither will their children or grandchildren.
He tells me that only twenty per cent can afford to go to university, usually funded by militant groups. He was at college in the north but there is no chance he will finish it now. “And the other 80 per cent?” I ask. Mahmoud shrugs.
“Rubbish,” his friend says quickly, grinning again. “We are not people, just rubbish.”
As I continue through the narrow streets of the camp, I am ushered in for cups of tea and puffs of water pipe. Crowded around a dinner table with four generations of two Palestinian families, we dig into hummus and falafel with our fingers from a communal dish among scores of children, distant relatives and neighbours. The door is always open, literally, as friends pop their heads through the window and stroll in and out.
They all fall silent when their camp appears on the screen, projectile missiles ripping through and dissolving buildings into smoke and rubble.
After dinner, we sit in front of a television, flicking perpetual news from channel to channel. One family has come from the camp in the north, they have no homes to return to and what will happen tomorrow and the day after is unknown. A 19-year-old girl giggles and clutches my arm, speaking the only English she knows: “I love you!” and giggles again. Her fiance sits beside her, they should have been married last week but the shelling intervened.
They all fall silent when their camp appears on the screen, projectile missiles ripping through and dissolving buildings into smoke and rubble. There are friends and family trapped inside the concrete blocks that have just vanished before our eyes. The two older women look exhausted and a younger man turns to me and with one hand he indicates around him to the children squatting on the carpet before the TV. “We are all afraid,” he says.
When I finally arrive at the Children and Youth Centre, responsible for keeping the children distracted from their own lives, director Abu Moujahed pulls open a drawer for me and unloads one knife after another that he has confiscated from the kids. Kitchen knives, Swiss Army knives, pocket knives.
“The parents, they do nothing”, he sighs. “How can we stop these children from becoming delinquents if the parents have given up?” Outside in the tiny concrete square that serves as the only playground, some kids kick a tennis ball around because they don’t have a football. “So what can we do?”
“You know,” he goes on. “We have a joke in Shatila. The devil comes to take a man to hell. The man tells him, ‘I will be happy to go with you because anything must be better than here.'”
But Shatila doesn’t make a believer of everyone. “If you visit this place,” Abu Moujahed says before I leave, “you will know that God doesn’t exist.”
Claire J Harris has spent the last decade travelling, working and writing around the world. Her short fiction, travel stories and creative non-fiction have been published in Australia, the US and the UK. Claire’s first feature film as writer and producer, Zelos, was released in 2017. She is currently working on a book about her travels.
Indigenous advocate, Keenan Mundine, a former youth prisoner and principal consultant of Inside Out Aboriginal Justice Consultancy, has travelled to Geneva to address the UN Human Rights Council about the Turnbull Government’s failure to stop ten year old children being sent to prison.
“I have spent more than half of my life behind bars, and I want to make sure this will not be the same future for my children. Right now, children as young as ten are still being locked away in prisons across Australia. This year alone, around 600 children under the age of 14 were taken from their families and imprisoned. This injustice must end,” said Mr Mundine.
Two years after the ABC’s Four Corners program exposed horrific abuse of children in the Don Dale prison, pressure is mounting on Australian state and territory governments to raise the age of criminal responsibility from 10 to 14 years.
Australia must end its rights abuses
Mr Mundine told the Council – the world’s peak human rights body of which Australia is now a member – that the Turnbull Government must stop ignoring human rights abuses at home.
“I have travelled from across the world to address this Council because I want my sons to grow up in a country that treats them fairly. This one simple change to our laws, will make a very big difference. Indigenous children in Australia deserve what I was denied – equality and freedom,” said Mr Mundine.
“In joining this Council, the Australian Government promised to uphold human rights and champion Indigenous peoples’ rights. For as long as Indigenous children are 25 times more likely to be sent to prison than non-Indigenous children, these will be hollow promises,” said Mr Mundine.
Raise the age to 14
The Turnbull Government called for the Northern Territory Royal Commission into the horrors of Don Dale in 2016, but has failed to deliver a key recommendation for reform – raising the age at which children can be charged, hauled before the courts and sent to prison.
Australia has one of the lowest ages of criminal responsibility in the democratic world. The average age in Europe is 14 years.
The National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Legal Services, the Human Rights Law Centre, Amnesty International and other medical, Indigenous and human rights organisations have been pushing all Australian governments to commit to raising the age of criminal responsibility.
Cheryl Axleby, Co-Chair of the National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Legal Services, said in addition to raising the age to 14 years, more support was needed for Indigenous-led programs.
“Australian youth prisons are institutional racism in action. Criminalising the behaviour of young, vulnerable children – who are mostly Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander – creates further disadvantage and traps children in the criminal justice system. It’s time to raise the age to 14 and fund wrap-around Indigenous-led supports that keep kids strong in culture and community,” said Ms Axleby.
When seeking election to the Human Rights Council, the Turnbull Government pledged to put Indigenous rights front and centre and progress the realisation of human rights through the implementation of UN recommendations and resolutions.
In the last five years, the UN has demanded Australia uphold children’s rights and raise the age of criminal responsibility on numerous occasions.
Ruth Barson, a Director of Legal Advocacy at the Human Rights Law Centre, said children should be in classrooms not courtrooms.
“No child should be strip searched, hand cuffed, or locked in a prison cell. The Turnbull Government cannot defend human rights on the world stage, while allowing primary aged children to be sent to prisons at home. Raising the age is a simple reform that would make a world of difference. What we need is for our governments to show some leadership,” said Ms Barson.
Across Australia, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children make up over 50% of the children locked away in youth prisons. Western Australia, the Northern Territory and South Australia have the highest Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander youth imprisonment rates in the country.
Belinda Lowe, Indigenous Rights Campaigner at Amnesty International, said the criminal justice system is failing kids and it’s failing communities.
“Children thrive best with their families and in their communities. Let’s instead focus on prevention not detention. Let’s raise the age that kids can be put behind bars, and provide early support to children and their families who are facing difficulties in their lives, so children don’t offend in the first place,” said Ms Lowe.
Responding to the news that Nauru’s government has banned journalists from the Australian Broadcasting Corporation (ABC) from attending the Pacific Islands Forum in September, Minar Pimple Amnesty International’s Senior Director of Global Operations said:
“This brazen move is a clear attempt at suppressing critical coverage of Nauru’s government and its inhumane treatment of refugees.
“The country’s current arrangements with Australia on refugee policy are a matter of journalistic and public interest. Going to these lengths to keep certain media out of the country is both an arbitrary, unacceptable restriction of press freedom and a telling sign of the government’s determination to keep the appalling situation of refugees in Nauru out of the news.
“Hosting a pan-regional event like the Pacific Islands Forum comes with the responsibility of opening yourself up to the region’s media. The Nauru government must not dictate who should and shouldn’t be attending, nor should it be issuing guidance on what journalists can and cannot report.”
Kat (NSW), Diana (Vic) and Yoseph (Vic). Photo credit to Diana Nesic
Amnesty activist leaders recently gathered in Sydney for a skill share, networking, and planning weekend. We were fortunate to have 24 participants from across Australia and two participants from New Zealand!
Key highlights of the weekend:
3 exceptional activist presentations
7 staff presentations/workshop sessions
A guest speaker who not only shared a powerful personal narrative but also explained the structure of the story of self, us, and now.
We invested in running sessions that we thought would prepare the participants to design a leadership plan that was strategic with clear human rights impact. The reflections at the end of day three highlighted that they achieved this. Some of their plans became cross pollinated with region-to-region collaboration and also some national projects were born!
They created their own social networking group to continue building on their relationships and sharing their ideas and outcomes into 2019.
What we focused on:
strategic thinking – taking the campaign strategy cycle and applying it to the way we plan anything in our lives.
facilitation – why we hold meetings, how we run meetings, how we facilitate decision making and how we follow up.
understanding the role of young people at Amnesty – exploring the ways young people are leaders at Amnesty International and the ways we can continue to build a diverse and inclusive movement.
All 26 participants and staff at the end of the weekend.
We also created space for participants to share their earliest activism memories and their leadership journeys.
The participants spent most of the last day working on their plans within working groups which focused on: group development, starting groups, activist pathways, campaigns, young people and schools. In the coming week each participant will be meeting with their regional Branch Committee to present their plans.
Some of the responses from the participants:
“An amazing and inspiring weekend, it couldn’t have been a more rewarding experience”.
Imogen, NZ
“Many thanks…for organising this wonderful series of workshops for us activists and the opportunity to meet so many amazing and dedicated human rights defenders…”.
Vincent, Adelaide
“It was a really great experience for me and so lovely to meet such inspiring people.”
Melanie, Vic
If you have any questions about the Activist Leadership Weekend please get in contact with the Activist Leadership and Development Coordinator, Zoe Houstein at zoe.houstein@amnesty.org.au
AM-UNITY is an online youth social justice magazine that highlights human rights issues and activism. It is a space for people to share their passion for social justice through artwork, poetry, interviews, videos and articles. Coordinated by a team of amazing volunteers, AM-UNITY has been around since 2013, and aims to be a space to highlight local and international human rights issues, and showcase the activism work of young people at Amnesty International.
