justice

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Members of the Villanueva support committee demonstrate outside of Dany Villanueva’s Immigration and Refugee Board hearing in Montreal on April 21, 2010

An ad hoc Montreal-based support group for Honuran-born Quebecer Dany Villanueva, whose permanent residency is under threat of revocation for a crime he committed and served time for four years ago, demonstrate outside of his Immigration and Refugee Board hearing.

By Angela Day
Briarpatch Magazine
July/August 2010

Imagine  you were born in Honduras and spent your childhood days on the dusty streets of Tegucigalpa. When you’re 12, you and your parents emigrate to Canada. You’re granted permanent residency and the stability it offers. By the time you’re 20, Canada is home and Honduras a distant memory.

But permanent residency in Canada is not necessarily permanent. According to the current Immigration and Refugee Protection Act, which came into effect in 2002, if permanent residents are implicated in “serious criminality” or sentenced to six months or more in prison, they may be deported to their country of origin, regardless of the length of time they’ve lived in Canada.

Jaggi Singh, a Montreal-based migrant rights organizer, says that this measure amounts to “double punishment,” since a permanent resident convicted of a crime is penalized once through the justice system and then again through the immigration system, with immigration officials weighing in on issues of criminality that have already been addressed within the judicial system. But whereas the courts dictate that a person cannot be tried twice for the same crime – a legal concept known as double jeopardy – no such principle protects immigrants from similar double punishment.

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By Dave Oswald Mitchell
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

Crimes were committed to punish crimes, and crimes were committed to prevent crimes. The world has been filled with prisons and dungeons, with chains and whips, with crosses and gibbets, with thumbscrews and racks, with hangmen and heads-men – and yet these frightful means and instrumentalities have committed far more crimes than they have prevented. . . . Ignorance, filth, and poverty are the missionaries of crime. As long as dishonorable success outranks honest effort – as long as society bows and cringes before the great thieves, there will be little ones enough to fill the jails.”

Robert G. Ingersoll, Crimes Against Criminals

The big thieves hang the little ones.”

Czech proverb

Crime dominates the news, but the standard political pronouncements on the subject seldom move beyond empty, knee-jerk vows to “get tough” on the perpetrators. This approach to the issue only stokes the politics of fear, of blame, of poor-bashing and insidious racism. An obsessive public focus on the bogeyman of “crime” serves the interests of right-wing politicians very well indeed: more police for the poor, fewer regulations for the rich, less money for the universal social safety net.

There is much chatter about crime, but surprisingly little talk of justice. I mean justice in the broadest sense of the word: the principle of equity as a guide and a goal for public policy. Some would call this social justice, a term that crops up again and again in progressive circles but seems to have no place in public policy discussions.

The pursuit of justice, broadly conceived, eclipses the narrow question of what we do with those who break society’s rules. Seeking justice requires a recognition that small injustices are often merely echoes of larger injustices, and that making incarceration the cornerstone of our approach to crime has done absolutely nothing to address its root causes and social determinants.

The left has to get better at talking about justice, about the fact that crime cannot be addressed without also addressing poverty, powerlessness and social marginalization. The Conservatives’ “tough on crime” approach takes us down the wrong road, and the destructive outcome of such an approach is entirely predictable.

When we on the left limit our public discussions of justice to the functioning of the “justice system,” we have already lost: we’ve resigned ourselves to battling the symptoms of social inequity (poverty, racism, etc.), rather than acknowledging the causes and declaring our commitment to work towards a society founded on the principles that make justice possible, in particular, closing the gap between extreme wealth and extreme poverty.

This issue of Briarpatch brings you a variety of ethically engaged perspectives on questions of crime, punishment, and the justice system. The aim is not to be comprehensive – that would be impossible in such a short space – but to open up some new avenues of inquiry, to challenge the received wisdom on the topic, to provide our readers with the tools and the inspiration to work for justice in their own ways, in their own communities. I hope you will join the discussion by sharing the articles that follow with others, and by writing us to give your own perspective. Your feedback is always welcome.

Next issue: Turn that recession-induced frown upside down with your copy of our forthcoming July/August issue, “Briarpatch unplugged, or, How I learned to stop destroying the planet and love the global recession.”

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Illustration by Byron Eggenschwiler

By Calvin White
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

Twenty-four-year-old Chris Klim was shot to death a little over a year ago, when seven armed men came to his apartment in Vernon, B.C., a town of 40,000. Two men stayed outside the apartment while the leader and four others smashed the door in with a battering ram. Bewildered, Klim stood in his bedroom with a kitchen knife in hand. The armed men shot him twice. According to the forensic report, it was the bullet through his back that killed him.

The men admitted what they had done, but no one was convicted; in fact, no charges were laid.

Klim wasn’t involved in any criminal activity. He wasn’t connected to a gang, though the shooting was deliberate and carried out by professionals. All of this should provoke outrage across the country, and it would if the country knew of it in detail. But no one knows about it because media coverage was minimal.

There are two crucial components to the tragedy that explain this.

First, Klim was schizophrenic. His condition had made him suicidal that day, and not for the first time. A mental health worker was so concerned about Klim that a distress phone call was made to the local police station. That’s the second component: it was the RCMP who killed him. The detachment head, an inspector, was in the apartment. They went en masse on the afternoon of December 27, 2007 to save Klim’s life, to protect him from himself. But they killed him instead.

Initial reaction when I’ve told this story is disbelief followed by an interjection that there had to be more to it. There is. This past November, a coroner’s inquest found no fault in any of the police actions. The RCMP inspector present that day issued a sombre statement after the inquest. He said it was a sad situation without winners or losers. Most people might consider Klim and his family the obvious losers.

Testimony at the inquest indicated the police went to the apartment with no mental health intermediary. They tried phoning Klim, but he wasn’t answering. The police did not think to get the building manager to let them into the apartment. Instead, they chose to break into a delusional man’s apartment.

Klim was holding a knife when they burst in. He then went to his bedroom and closed the door. The police ordered him to come out. Eventually, he opened the door and stood holding the knife. They ordered him to drop it. He screamed at them to get out and walked toward them. An officer said he tasered Klim, without effect. Klim kept coming toward them. The testimony did not say if he behaved as though he was going to strike at them; Klim had no history of violence towards others. The closest officer said he was afraid for his life, yet Klim walked past him. A second officer shot him. He stumbled to the floor and was shot in the back by a third officer. That bullet entered his heart and killed him.

Afterwards, the RCMP spokesperson trotted out the RCMP policy manual’s phrasing in order to defend her colleagues’ actions: officers fired due to “fear of grievous bodily injury or death.” After the inquest, another police spokesperson brought out the other predictable script: two investigations done by other police forces found that “the force used in this case was appropriate and that correct procedures were followed.” These same words would likely have been used to explain away Robert Dziekanski’s death by tasering at the Vancouver airport in October 2007 if the incident had not been videotaped by a bystander.

In the first months of 2009, the public inquiry into the Dziekanski case was in the media almost every day. Those who followed the case were stunned and saddened by the blunders that led to his death. Lawyers grilled the RCMP officers who subdued Dziekanski. Testimonies were carefully examined, compared, pulled at to determine the truth. Because of that and the video evidence, contradictions were obvious. Everything about the police conduct painted a damning picture. Truth and justice were being served.

Yet, in spite of all the mistakes, Dziekanski’s death was accidental. It was not intended. Klim’s death was deliberate; he was shot in the heart at close range.

By any standards of common sense, it is unacceptable to let Klim’s death stand as it now does. His death was not captured on camera, but that shouldn’t be the deciding factor in determining whether or not further examination is warranted.

Klim’s needless death demands accountability. At the very least, the officers should be reprimanded, if not face stronger repercussions. The inspector should be held responsible. There needs to be an immediate lengthening of the various police training programs. Few police forces in the country train longer than six months. Most university degrees take four years to complete and many technical programs last two years. It takes a year to become a cook, and six months to become a cop. That has to change.

Policing is an extremely difficult and demanding job. Officers need to know laws, weaponry, combat, psychology, record keeping, expert driving skills, investigation and public relations. They need to have a working familiarity and level of comfort with cross-cultural issues, mental health issues, gay and lesbian issues, suicide prevention and domestic violence intervention techniques. They have an extremely stressful, demanding job, and have to learn how to healthily process that stress. Six months training? One of the officers involved in the shooting had only been in service for two months.

The whole tragedy says a lot about how we understand mental illness – or how we don’t. Undoubtedly, media types looked at the story and concluded, “Ah well, the guy was crazy. What were the cops supposed to do?” Mental illness gives others an excuse to cease seeing the human element. There is no reason to think a trained mental health worker or even a caring, empathetic communicator could not have diffused the situation that day. Mental illness, the vast majority of the time, does not make someone unreachable. Klim needed help. Someone you know and love might need similar help with a mental health issue some day. We deserve that help as much as someone with a broken leg would.

Klim was not a schizophrenic who was sadly, unavoidably shot and killed. He was a human being with a future filled with possibilities and his death was negligent. This much, at least, needs to be publicly recorded.

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Photo by Matthew Behrens
The children of Jaballah (left) and Mahjoub (right) play “ring around the CSIS” during a March 2009 demonstration at Toronto CSIS office.

By Matthew Behrens
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

Public outrage over the treatment of Canada’s “security certificate” detainees has receded with the seemingly good news that four of the five detainees are now living at home. But the reality of house arrest is almost worse, because it effectively extends the almost total loss of freedom the men endure to their wives, children and friends.

Imagine the government has declared you a threat to national security, but you’re not allowed to know why. You spend upwards of seven years behind bars under a secretive, arbitrary process reminiscent of a Kafka novel. You watch your children grow up through thick glass in weekly intervals of 20-minute visits, unable to hug and kiss them. Your life is haunted by the threat of deportation to torture.

After all this, the prospect of house arrest might sound like paradise. But even this improvement in your condition becomes a nightmare under some of the most draconian bail conditions ever seen in Canada.

You have a large device affixed to your leg that is linked to a GPS satellite, tracking your every move. To charge the device’s battery, you must sit plugged into an electrical outlet for two uninterrupted hours a day. You cannot sleep during the charging because if you turn the wrong way you might upset the delicate pins in the device.

Video cameras and alarms are placed in your home at all entrances and selected windows, and you must ensure your residence has a parking spot for the government agents who are charged with your 24-7 surveillance. All of your phone conversations, including those with your lawyers, are monitored and recorded for analysis by counter­terrorism officials. All of your mail, from bills to birthday cards, is intercepted by state agents who make duplicates of it so that special “counterterrorism analysts” can determine whether your partner’s Sears bill reveals any “trends” or “codes” that might be deemed detrimental to national security.

What sounds like a dystopian sci-fi stomach-turner is in fact a growing trend in Canadian state surveillance of individuals who seek bail in certain high-profile cases, especially those subject to security certificates.

For almost two decades, security certificates have allowed for the indefinite detention of refugees and permanent residents on undisclosed national security grounds and, although declared unconstitutional by the Supreme Court of Canada in 2007, they remain in place with minor modifications.

This Star Chamber-like process has made Canada the subject of criticism from numerous United Nations bodies, as well as Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and members of all Canadian political parties. But public outrage over the certificates and especially the conditions under which the detainees have been held (some spent years in unheated solitary confinement cells) has receded with the seemingly good news that four of the five detainees are now living at home.

But the almost total control exercised over every aspect of these men’s lives while in jail – men who have never been convicted of any crime – has now been extended to their family members, their court-approved supervisors and any friends who venture to visit or call.

There has been little media coverage of the insidious manner in which the bail conditions can turn a simple trip to the corner store for milk into a complicated process that requires delicate negotiations with state agents along with the constant fear that a simple error (perhaps going to the wrong corner store) could land you back in jail. Nor has there been much documentation of the devastating psychological and physical impact on all those whose lives are touched by these conditions.

“When my Dad was coming out, I thought life was going to be easier, we were going to actually be a proper family,” says 15-year-old Afnan Jaballah, whose father, Mahmoud, has been targeted by CSIS since the late 1990s. “But looking at it now, it’s pathetic and hard. We haven’t done anything wrong. We’re not terrorists. We’re not anything. We’re just normal human beings following our religion. Nobody should be following us. Nobody should be looking at us.”

Afnan describes the difficulty of having friends over, given the video cameras placed on the outside of their home and the fact that friends who do accompany the family on government-approved public outings find they are constantly followed by Canadian Border Services Agency (CBSA) officers who wear bullet-proof vests, sidearms and dark glasses. “Some friends, when they see this, they get scared and don’t bother coming on outings with me. I’m losing my friends. It is really hard.”

This typical Canadian teenager, like others in security certificate families, feels that she herself is being punished, and is becoming socially isolated because of the secret allegations against and overt surveillance of her father.

It’s enough to produce a rift in the closest of families. Anyone familiar with the potential stress of planning a weekend trip to an amusement park or mall with a group of children and their friends might begin to appreciate the problems likely to arise when such trips must be approved a week in advance since the friends’ parents need state permission to meet your husband. In addition, the trip is subject to rigorous route restrictions (no unplanned bathroom breaks or donut shop excursions), and you will be followed by CBSA officers in a manner that makes all members of the group feel like they’re featured guests on America’s Most Wanted.

“Right now, I hate the word ‘outing’ because of what is happening,” Afnan’s brother, 13-year-old Ali Jaballah, told a Federal Court judge last fall. Since the age of five, Ali has hoisted picket signs and distributed flyers in attempts to have his father released. Having grown up in the glare of media lights, he longs for private time with his family. But when he leaves the house with his father, he is constantly watching the agents who are watching him, and instead of enjoying a playground on a summer’s evening, he is incessantly asking what time it is, fearful they might miss his father’s 9 p.m. curfew. “I’m just worried they might take him back [to jail],” Ali says.

While each detainee is allowed a certain number of outings per week, all must be pre-approved at least three business days in advance. Outings are sometimes rejected without a reason given, though certain patterns have emerged around restricted access to locations that may be host to a high number of Muslims. Indeed, requests to attend Muslim Day at Canada’s Wonderland and the annual Eid gathering at Toronto’s Rogers Centre were rejected, while requests to go to crowded shopping malls have been approved. Mahmoud Jaballah reports that a visit to his daughter’s public high school parent-teacher night was approved, but his request to meet teachers at his younger children’s Islamic school was turned down.

None of this is called for in the court’s bail orders. Neither are the arbitrary decisions that have been made by CBSA, such as requiring pre-approved individuals to provide 48 hours notice of a visit, forcing said visitors to sign a jail-like log book or indefinitely cancelling any and all outings for a period of time for undisclosed reasons.

Detainees and their loved ones question why intrusive, eyes-on surveillance is necessary, especially when court-approved “supervisors” for the men, usually their wives, grown children and close friends, have already been tasked with monitoring the individual’s compliance with their conditions.

While officials with the CBSA maintain these are simply additional measures to ensure compliance, a formerly secret CBSA manual released in Federal Court this past February contradicts such rationalizations, revealing a very specific policy that uses house arrest as a cover for intelligence gathering.

Entitled “Security Certificate Case Monitoring,” the manual provides a skewed view that would likely scare and confuse CBSA officers tasked with following the detainees. Indeed, with headings like “There is no zero risk situation,” the manual repeatedly states that these individuals have “links to terrorism,” a specious and defamatory allegation that has never been proven in a fair and legal process.

Another bold-faced heading states, “National security must not be compromised.” Given that no rational discussion follows about what this means, coupled with the manual’s broad definition of risk – “the chance that something bad will occur” – it’s no wonder that CBSA officers come across as paranoid and unnecessarily harsh.

Under a section entitled “residence check,” officers are told they may enter a detainee’s house to conduct a search but must do so with respect. However, “where there are reasonable grounds to believe that there is a potential risk, officer safety will take precedence over cultural, religious and gender considerations.” Given the sensationalistic manner in which CBSA presents the issue to its officers, it’s likely that officers are never more than a gut feeling away from concluding they have “reasonable grounds to believe that there is a potential risk.” Numerous complaints from detainees about the manner in which such sensitivity considerations have not always been respected support this conclusion.

It was the accumulation of such incidents that led detainee Mohammad Mahjoub to have himself returned to jail two years after his release. No longer able to witness the pain his family was experiencing, he insisted on being returned to the maximum security institution on the grounds of Millhaven Penitentiary built especially for the security certificate cases.

Like Jaballah’s children, Mahjoub’s kids have also been traumatized by the state’s handling of their father’s bail conditions. Violating the sanctity of the place often considered safest – home – can have profound and lasting effects on kids, as when Mahjoub’s children came home one day last summer to discover that their new Wii had been seized by CBSA officers while they were out. The explanation was that the game may have an Internet-capable connection (about which no one in the family was aware). One of his bail conditions prohibits Internet access for Mr. Mahjoub.

Mona Elfouli, the children’s mother, explains, “You could see how angry and screaming and crying the kids were. Why did they do that to us? They don’t let us have any fun at all. They take anything that we enjoy.” The family’s efforts to have the game returned, promising to keep it in a locked room that Mr. Mahjoub could not access, took over six months.

A short time after losing their Wii, the Mahjoub kids purchased a pet snake. The next day one of them refused to go to school, acting out and crying constantly. Eventually, as Ms. Elfouli relates it, “he said he didn’t want to come back from school and see that his pet was gone. He was afraid the CBSA would take it.”

Photo by Matthew Behrens
Ali Jaballah and his mother, Husnah Al Mashtouli, demonstrate to clear the name of their loved one, detainee Mahmoud Jaballah, in Toronto.

THE MAHJOUB AND JABALLAH families no longer host the gatherings of friends that once marked their lives. Individuals wishing to be approved as visitors must provide personal information, including the name and address of their employers, as well as a picture (the idea of which must send shivers of fear throughout the Muslim community, where targeting based on false information or the loosest of guilt-by-association allegations can have devastating consequences). Given that all information collected by the CBSA goes onto a central anti-terrorism database in Ottawa, there is no telling with whom the information is subsequently shared, either within the Canadian government or abroad. The recent cases of Abdullah Almalki, Muayyed Nureddin, Ahmad El Maati and Maher Arar, all Canadians tortured abroad based on false and inflammatory allegations by CSIS and the RCMP, are cautionary tales for a community that is targeted and harassed by those very agencies. (See Lorne Brown’s review of the book Dark Days in this issue.)

While some might dismiss such fears as paranoia, the CBSA document illustrates just how well-founded they are. The section on phone taps states that “telephone monitoring can also be a valuable source of information on the ISSC [individual subject to security certificate] as well as their supervisor and associates” (i.e., their friends, none of whom are subject to security certificates but all of whom are now the subject of investigation).

The CBSA document then states that telephone taps are “most beneficial after a catalyst event, such as a residence search, interview, spot check or interactions during an outing or appointment. These occurrences, along with what the ISSC says and who they say it to, could be valuable information that leads to additional targets.”

Additional targets? In essence, house arrest becomes a huge fishing expedition for the government. “Even when a breach of conditions is not apparent, the information may be beneficial for intelligence purposes,” the manual notes, adding, “Where possible, monitoring officers should attempt to gather intelligence for use by headquarters, the regions and other government departments.” Who knows where this “information-sharing” ends or the degree of harm that may come to individuals who could suddenly find themselves on no-fly lists, rendered to a third country or denied employment for mysterious reasons, all because of the secretive actions of overzealous, racially profiling agencies like CBSA, CSIS, the RCMP, Foreign Affairs and the Department of Justice?

Both Mahjoub and Jaballah, as well as Mohamed Harkat (in Ontario) and Adil Charkaoui (in Quebec) have challenged such conditions, with Charkaoui successfully having most of them eliminated after four years of having to be accompanied everywhere by his mother or father. In the Ontario cases, however, judges have shown a great deal more deference to the government and its secret information.

A detainee knows that indefinite jail time will result from any breach. Yet if the government commits any violations, there is no penalty. This became clear when it was revealed that CSIS, one party to these proceedings, had been listening in on two years’ worth of solicitor-client phone calls at the request of the CBSA, a clear and well-understood violation of one of the bedrock principles of a democratic justice system.

While the Federal Court did issue an order calling on CSIS to stop listening to such calls, the judge hearing the case stated: “I don’t want to hear any more about it. It is done. It is over. It is finished. It has happened. We understand it happened. It is unfortunate, but there is nothing we can do to change the past. We can only look at what goes from here in terms of where it will go from here.”

But what role did those illegally obtained solicitor-client phone calls play in padding CSIS’ accusations against the detainees, their families and their friends? Where does the cycle of illegality and impunity end?

It is against this backdrop that all of the detainees and their families are preparing for the next stage in their long struggle to clear their names. Throughout 2009, “reasonableness” hearings will be taking place both in public and, without the detainees present, in parallel secret hearings in order to determine whether the security certificates will be upheld. This two-stage process leaves some wondering whether the public hearing is simply a show trial designed to give the appearance of fairness. While the new process allows for security-cleared lawyers to test some of the secret case evidence, they cannot speak about what happens behind closed doors, even with the detainee, nor are they allowed to cross-examine the government’s confidential informants, leaving the defendant no closer to knowing or being able to contest the case against him.

The stress of preparing for and attending such hearings – which will ultimately determine whether the detainees will be deported to torture, relegated to indefinite house arrest based on secret allegations they can never properly answer, or simply released – is difficult enough. To mount such a defence while dealing with the intricacies of house arrest and constant surveillance presents an almost incomprehensible challenge.

For the Toronto families, it has been a never-ending challenge to raise healthy, happy children in such an environment. As Mona Elfouli recently told a Federal Court judge:

“I brought my kids up to love everyone and to be there for everyone, and not to fear anyone and not to be angry at anyone. But my kids are growing up now, with the situation that we are in, because of the surveillance, because of coming in and taking things from them and making their life miserable, they started to say, ‘I hate CBSA.’

“I say, ‘Guys, you know what? We love everyone. Don’t say you hate them. Say, I hate their action. I don’t like it, and we can talk to them and get them to change it.’ When their dad was in detention, at the beginning they were small; they didn’t know. At the time, I wanted to explain to them. I said, ‘You know, you’re old enough to understand that your dad is in jail, and that’s not because he has done something wrong. It’s just the government are human beings and they sometimes make mistakes. And we talked to them [the government] and tried to help them to correct their mistake, and when it is corrected, your dad would be home.’

“It took a long time after I said that, and the children, I was afraid they wouldn’t trust what I said anymore. But then, their dad came home. And I said, ‘See, guys, we were able to make it.’”

Elfouli promised her pre-teen children that the same relentless persistence that brought their father home after seven years in jail will eventually end the house arrest that disrupts their daily lives. This past March, though, the family had had enough. Facing two impossible choices, the family decided to revoke Mr. Mahjoub’s bail and return him to prison. Elfouli is relying on opponents of security certificates to ensure another seven years don’t pass before their family can live under one roof, free from harassment and state control.

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Photo by Chris Benjamin
“Freedom, justice and prisons”: The sign on the wall of Manhyia Prison

By Chris Benjamin
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

Under colonial rule, Ghana’s multiple traditional systems of justice were replaced by a single, expensive, incarceration-based penal system. Now, 52 years independent and among the poorest 15 per cent of nations, Ghana is at the mercy of foreign countries for financial support in maintaining its overcrowded prisons, retraining prison staff and educating prisoners in an effort to upgrade a system of punishment that is falling into disfavour in the wealthier nations from which it originates.

Robert Awolugutu wrote several books about prayer before he realized that many of those he thought might benefit most from his words, his prisoners, cannot read. As the Officer-in-Charge at Manhyia Prison in Kumasi, Ghana, he is responsible for the welfare of 193 men living in a prison built for half that number.

“They still have all their human rights, aside from their liberty,” Awolugutu told a group of visiting Canadians from the United Nations Development Programme. The Canadians were there to talk prison reform, including literacy training for prisoners and human rights training for prison staff. The Ghanaian state can’t afford to fund either on its own, despite seeing the value of both, which creates yet another international development paradox.

Were Ghana able to make use of its own abundance of natural resources instead of being at the mercy of multi­national commodity traders, it could afford to properly educate and employ its own citizens, negating the extreme variances in wealth that usually cause crime. Were extreme poverty in Ghana thus eliminated, the crimes that would still exist could then be resolved in an expedited legal system that included fair representation for all, fully trained prison staff and a more effective restitutive and restorative justice system – without having to rely on international institutions like the UN Development Programme.

Ghana, like other poor countries, faces a Catch-22. As long as poverty and inequity remain, it is dependent on rich nations, each with a vested interest in maintaining its own wealth, to help it reform its key institutions, all of which are hampered by the poverty that was first created by the colonialism of those now-donor nations.

Nsawam’s prisoner-teachers

In spite of the extremely limited resources at his disposal, Awolugutu had already taken steps to improve the welfare of his prisoners. Disturbed by the two per cent literacy rate in his jail, he enlisted the help of two prisoner-teachers, Williams Apaabey and Christopher Tanye, and set up a prison literacy program. The program had 15 students and a chalkboard, but no chalk, books, markers or pens. One of the founding prisoner-teachers has since been released as part of Ghana’s 50th anniversary amnesty program. The other has experience teaching at the junior secondary level, but no training in adult education.

“There is nothing wrong with our program except lack of materials,” Tanye told me.

The guards in both the men’s and women’s prisons in Kumasi echoed that sentiment, as did senior staff members of the Ghana Prisons Service. The visiting UNDP staff were told that the idea of enhancing prison literacy was not new, just underfunded.

One of the first groups in Ghana to consider prisoner literacy programming was the discharge board of Nsawam Prison, Ghana’s largest medium-security jail. Nsawam was originally designed to hold 600 men. It now holds more than 2,700.

Nsawam’s discharge board is made up of volunteers, pastors and church congregation members as well as prison staff. In its work to prepare soon-to-be-released prisoners for life on the outside, the board concluded that illiteracy is a serious problem facing prisoners.

“Illiteracy kept the prisoners from participating fully in society in the first place,” Awolugutu said.

Literacy, crime and income inequality

While Ghana’s literacy rate is below 60 per cent, among prisoners the rate is considerably lower. Some of the Nsawam staff estimated the literacy rate in the prison to be less than 10 per cent, although no in-depth assessments have been made.

Nsawam’s discharge board convinced the Ghana Prisons Service that literacy training will reduce the crime rate. W. K. Asiedu, Director General of Prisons, and Israel Tsegah, Director of Human Resource Development, say that many of Ghana’s prisoners commit crimes because they lack education and have few opportunities to earn a living. The theory is that when unemployment and poverty increase, crime also increases. The statistical data supports this view.

The full story, however, is more complex. Recent research in Africa and North America has indicated that income disparity – the co-existence of extreme wealth alongside extreme poverty – is an even better predictor of crime than is poverty. A textbook example is found in Johannesburg, South Africa, where violent crime is most common just outside of gated communities. Drivers are often attacked and robbed as they stop to enter their security codes.

“It has to do with the distribution of poverty,” according to Professor Stephen Ayidiya, who explained his work to me in his office at the University of Ghana, Department of Social Work. He has observed that disparity breeds desperation and envy. “If you live in town and you don’t have a job to earn your daily bread, and you see people with nice big houses and cars and you feel they are no better than you, there is a factor of revenge to the crime.”

Some criminals believe that the wealth of their victims has not been acquired rightfully, nullifying their own guilt. “If they see a big house they think it must be a cocaine house, or bought with stolen money or by a corrupt politician,” Ayidiya explained. With Ghana performing below the international average in all corruption indices, this popular belief that wealthy people are dishonest is no surprise.

Recidivism and overcrowding

Literacy training alone, of course, will not solve the problems of Ghana’s justice system. But it may help reduce recidivism (the tendency of released prisoners to commit crimes again). In a recent report to the Ghana Prisons Service, it was noted that repeat offenders in Nigeria have considerably higher rates of illiteracy than first-timers.

Reduced recidivism in turn reduces overcrowding in prisons. Ghana has an approximate prison population of 18,000 living in facilities designed to accommodate 4,000. Incarcerating prisoners 40 to a cell is not uncommon.

At Manhyia Prison, the area designated as common space is barely big enough to host a table tennis game. The jail itself, like so many of Ghana’s prison facilities, was actually never intended to hold prisoners. The entire prison was originally a waiting room in the King of Ashanti’s palace, and became a jail only when the King changed residences.

This is typical of Ghanaian prisons, which have not been expanded since independence in 1957. They are not only overcrowded but in a general state of decay, with little expect­ation of infrastructure renewal on the horizon.

The Kumasi Women’s Prison is as overcrowded as the men’s prison. It too was built for purposes other than incarceration. And like the men’s prison, it also has an under-resourced literacy program.

The women’s program’s one advantage is that the women’s teacher, Second Officer Mary Uumadi, is a young and dedicated prison guard. As a full-time employee, she won’t likely be released from her teaching duties anytime soon.

Uumadi has taught at the Kumasi Women’s Prison since 2005. She has her hands full teaching basic literacy to 12 of the jail’s 55 prisoners. Her pupils have varying levels of education, but most cannot read at all.

“Mary makes it very interesting,” Josephine Fredua Agyemang, Officer-in-Charge at the women’s prison, told me. “They are learning and we are always taking in new students.”

But once these women are released from jail, most have little chance of attaining employment outside the informal economy of hawkers, hairdressers, bread-bakers and other low-paid service providers.

Still, Ghana Prisons Service consultant Miia Suokonautio, originally from Scarborough, Ontario, believes that the program itself enhances prisoners’ sense of self-worth. “Some studies suggest an increased knowledge of self can lead to reduced criminalized activity,” she explained.

Suokonautio helped develop a Ghana-wide literacy training program that will be coupled with human rights training for prison guards at all levels. The female and male guards I spoke with expressed eagerness for more training to build on what they had learned.

Photo by Chris Benjamin
Disturbed by the two percent literacy rate in his jail, Awolugutu (centre) enlisted the help of two prisoner-teachers and set up a prison literacy program.

Human rights still apply

The human rights training that prison staff have already received, which encourages staff to see their work environment from a prisoner’s perspective, got guards thinking of ways to improve the lives of prisoners, such as establishing literacy programs. A few years ago, 16 senior staff from Manhyia attended a two-week human rights training program in Nigeria. “It helped us treat people better,” Awolugutu, the most senior of the 16, explained.

According to Awolugutu, there is an old belief among guards that prisoners forfeit not only their liberty, but all other human rights too. Because of training, this belief no longer applies at Manhyia. “We don’t allow beatings; being here is their punishment,” he said.

Agyemang and her staff also attended UNICEF-sponsored human rights training last year in the capital, Accra. “We liked it very much,” she said. “It was very interesting – mostly about child rights, but we learned adult rights too.” In Kumasi Women’s Prison there are three young children with their mothers. The prison allows children to stay with their mothers and promotes breastfeeding.

The most significant lesson of the training, according to Agyemang, “was learning how to put ourselves in prisoners’ shoes, understand that they are confused, disoriented, scared. It sensitized us, so we understood that prisoners have rights.” It was this training that got the guards thinking about how to help prisoners solve their problems before leaving jail.

As a result, the prison offers several vocational training programs, including hairdressing, bread-baking, crocheting, dressmaking, doormat making, and palm oil crushing. Women also have the opportunity to learn about sexual health from the Planned Parenthood Association of Ghana, one of few non-Christian volunteer groups working directly in Ghanaian prisons.

The Planned Parenthood Association of Ghana started teaching about self-esteem, sexual health, family planning, and STD prevention in the Kumasi Women’s Prison. The agency has since been admitted to speak with the men as well.

Planned Parenthood still faces significant institutional resistance, however, particularly in the men’s prisons. As Planned Parenthood Regional Coordinator Elsie Ayeh explains, “we run AIDS education but we can’t acknowledge sodomy. And we can’t distribute condoms. We can only focus on self-esteem and hygiene.”

Last year, Ghana Prisons Service finally did acknowledge that sodomy exists in its jails, but added that “severe sanctions” are applied to those involved, as part of the new focus on corrections over punishment. Homosexuality is illegal everywhere in Ghana. Same-sex partners in jails are offered counselling, but still no condoms.

The prevalence of AIDS in Ghana’s prisons, however, has never been denied. A recent series of tests at Kumasi Central Prison found seven cases of AIDS among the 57 prisoners. Four other men had died of AIDS in the previous six months. Yet Kumasi Central Prison, the largest in the region, would not allow Planned Parenthood staff to speak with its prisoners.

At the other two Kumasi jails, the Planned Parenthood Association of Ghana continues its use of HIV testing and education kits, training guards and peer educators to talk about the risk of AIDS, though they cannot distribute condoms. Some prison staff point out that had it not been for human rights advocacy, even these small steps may have been impossible.

Alternatives to incarceration

The focus on human rights training has led to a recognition of the need for deeper structural changes to Ghana’s justice system. The UN Development Programme and the Ghana Prisons Service received an important piece of feedback during a pilot two-day workshop for prison guards on human rights. More than 60 per cent of the guards expressed the belief that “more important than human rights training is providing prisons with adequate resources, such as staff and space.” Indeed, human rights workers agree that increased human rights sensitization of staff will accomplish little on its own if the acute overcrowding situation in Ghana’s prisons is not addressed.

Although the UN Development Programme is providing seed money for the literacy and human rights initiatives, improving facilities is not on its list of projects. Perhaps development experts fear the possibility that if more money goes into building and expanding prisons, more prisoners will be sent there.

If there could possibly be an upside to the overcrowding, perhaps it’s that it forces the courts to consider other options, such as restitutive justice or non-custodial sentencing. As a result, Ghana Prisons Service has increasingly focused on measures such as mediation between perpetrator and victim, as well as alternative sentencing options such as probation, community service and fines.

Despite these efforts, every few years the government of Ghana is forced to grant amnesty to some prisoners to alleviate overcrowding. Last year 1,000 were released; two years ago the number was 2,000.

Many of these freed prisoners receive amnesty for crimes for which they have not actually been convicted. Close to half of Ghanaian prisoners have never been convicted; they are still awaiting trial. Many others are serving multi-year sentences for crimes most Canadians would consider minor, like possession of marijuana.

Visiting lawyers from the Canadian groups Journalists for Human Rights and Canadian Lawyers Abroad were struck by the slow pace of the courts. Defence attorneys, who are not paid for by the state, require a transportation retainer (which one judge wryly called a “reminder”) in order to show up to a hearing. The poor are usually forced to defend themselves, and are generally ill-equipped for the task.

The Canadian lawyers also noted an abundance of prisoner rights advocacy groups, many of which are working in isolation. According to their final report, “Five organizations: Legal Aid, Legal Resource Centre, Prisoners Rehabilitation and Welfare Action, Centre for Public Interest Law, and Commonwealth Health Rights Initiative, are all organisations involved in separate yet extremely similar projects advocating for prisoners’ rights. . . . They are all asking for funding from the same donors and therefore have the inherent need to compete and succeed in their own independent projects in order to receive more funds.” The Ghana Prisons Service sergeants and visiting Canadian lawyers both recognize that resources could be better allocated to speeding court proceedings, fighting corruption in the legal system, and coordinating the efforts of prisoner rights groups.

If Ghana is successful in expediting its justice system, the number of prisoners could be reduced by more than half. However, that would still leave the overall population at more than double capacity. Despite reform efforts, prisons in Ghana, as in Canada, remain an expensive, unworkable non-solution to the complex societal desires of punishment, security, and reform – as Michel Foucault termed it, “the detestable solution, which one seems unable to do without.”

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Illustration by Nick Craine

By Deanna Ogle
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

I first heard about fathers’ rights groups when I was working at a Vancouver drop-in centre for women several years ago. A family law advocate for a similar organization in a neighbouring community told me about a group of men who would show up at court in matching T-shirts to support male members of their organization who were engaged in custody and access disputes with their ex-partners. The groups would do this to try to influence the judges and intimidate the women, who were often there without a lawyer or any other support besides the advocate. Concerned, I wondered how organized these men were and if it was a local phenomenon. To my surprise, I learned that this group was part of a global movement with a membership ranging from Caribbean Canadian Senator Anne Cools to British anti-poverty activist Bob Geldof (though the vast majority of fathers’ rights leaders and activists are white, middle-class, conservative men).

There is a diversity of thought and tactics to fathers’ rights groups, but they share a focus on issues of family law – in particular, issues surrounding custody and access to children. Organizations like Fathers 4 Justice, Fathers are Capable Too, Canadian Equal Parenting Council, Dads Canada and Equal Parenting BC have adopted the language of “equal rights” and resistance to oppression, but wield these terms in defence of traditional ideas of fatherhood and male privilege.

Although fathers’ rights groups have existed in Canada since the 1970s, it wasn’t until the mid-1990s that they began to emerge as an influential voice in divorce and child custody proceedings. In 1998 a Special Joint Committee on Child Custody and Access was convened to consult with individuals and communities across Canada on proposed changes to the Divorce Act. This committee included allies of the fathers’ rights movement such as Senator Anne Cools and committee co-chair Roger Galloway, then a Liberal MP for Sarnia Lambton. Although this consultation process was widely considered a failure (the resulting report was not adopted by the Justice Minister and none of the recommendations of the committee were adopted), it did highlight how family law has become the staging ground for a heated struggle around gender norms in modern families. With strong support from within the committee, the consultation process became a platform for fathers’ groups to air their grievances with the current system. In particular they called for “equal shared parenting” and increasing non-custodial parents’ rights.

In Canadian law there are two forms of equality that are commonly discussed, formal equality and substantive equality. A strict “formal equality” approach demands that everyone is treated exactly the same regardless of mitigating circumstances. At first glance, this approach sounds reasonable as it would allow a father’s grievance in the courts to be given equal airing to that of the mother. However, this “gender neutral” approach obscures the substantially different ways the men and women experience separation, divorce and the justice system.

While experiences of divorce and separation vary, many women find that the end of a relationship means a new life of precarity, lower income (if not complete loss of income) and single motherhood. While poverty rates among women before divorce are 16 per cent, after divorce these rates increase dramatically to 43 per cent. This drop in socio-economic status coupled with decreases in government support for family law legal aid in many areas of Canada means that women are often unable to access adequate legal representation or advice in family law matters like custody and access.

This situation is especially serious for women who are leaving abusive relationships, disabled women and newcomers who face barriers to accessing the legal system due to limited English language skills and unfamiliarity with our legal institutions. Not having access to legal advice means that these women are less likely to be able to present their arguments within legal language, and are therefore less likely to be taken seriously by the judge or mediator.

This is where substantive equality comes in. Substantive equality accounts for these patterns of discrimination and oppression in an effort to guarantee equality not just of opportunity but of outcomes. Basically, substantive equality recognizes that we don’t all start at the same place due to structures of privilege and oppression, and stipulates that giving everyone a fair chance requires that we compensate for these imbalances.

The two approaches to equality can be effectively contrasted using the example of sharing an apple with a friend. While formal equality would require splitting the apple 50/50, addressing substantive equality requires that we ask what both individuals had eaten that day and divides the apple based on need (or in this case hunger). A substantive equality argument in the case of custody and access would recognize the disproportionate burden women carry in child rearing, as well as the lack of equity many women face in the workplace.

When fathers’ rights groups speak of equality, they rely heavily on conceptions of formal equality that obscure the unequal relationships between men and women in a patriarchal society. For instance, in a document prepared by the Canadian Equal Parenting Council, equal parenting is defined as “the presumption that both parents should share responsibilities and time on the basis of equal rights. Of course parents may agree to divide duties . . . but if they can’t agree, such as in highly-conflicted divorce, both parents keep equal rights and responsibilities.”

Using a substantive equality lens, however, we must ask whether the presumption of shared responsibilities reflects the realities of families in Canada today. Statistics show that for most families today parenting is neither equal nor shared. Therefore, any discussion of responsibilities and rights must take into account women’s disproportionate burden in caring for children.

In 2004, for instance, over 14,000 women in Canada left their paid employment due to unpaid caregiving responsibilities – double the number of men – and missed an average of 10 days of work due to caregiving commitments, while men missed, on average, a day and a half. According to Statistics Canada, men have increased their participation in unpaid work in the household in the last ten years from an average of 2.1 to 2.5 hours a day. This change corresponds with a half hour decrease in women’s household labour, moving from 4.8 hours daily in 1996 to 4.3 hours in 2006. It is clear that households are changing but it is equally clear that we are a long way off of a 50/50 split in household labour.

The reality of separation in Canada today is that even when joint-custody arrangements are made, children are typically cared for primarily by the mother, while decision-making is shared by both parents. In practice, this emphasis on shared parenting and increased non-custodial parents’ rights only serves to reinforce the roles demanded of the traditional heterosexual nuclear family, with the father as the decision-maker and the mother as the primary source of unpaid reproductive labour in the form of child care, food preparation and cleaning.

In order to appease the strong local fathers’ rights movements, England and Australia have shifted away from the framework of custody and access to a shared parenting model, where each parent keeps their pre-separation roles and responsibilities. However, this shift just further perpetuates unequal relationships. A study undertaken in Australia three years after the amendments were introduced found that the changes had put an increased pressure on women to provide contact even in situations that compromised their safety. Additional studies found that the changes had not reduced conflict or litigation, nor had they substantially changed caregiving patterns. Shared parenting models, the evidence suggests, simply do not address the root problems of gendered inequality that shape women’s experience both before and after separation.

Nonetheless, members of the Conservative Party have supported further entrenching patriarchal relations through similar changes to family law. The Conservative Party has included a commitment to shared parenting after separation in various election platforms. Last year, former MP Carol Skelton and sitting Saskatchewan MPs Maurice Vellacott and David Anderson (all Conservatives) publicly pledged support to equal shared parenting in the House of Commons. Fathers 4 Justice activists continue to rally support in British Columbia and across Canada, staging banner drops off of prominent bridges while dressed as superheroes and trekking across Canada to raise awareness and money. Fathers’ rights groups have also worked together with the conservative women’s organization REAL Women to lobby for equal shared parenting. Beyond extensive lobbying and direct action tactics borrowed from social justice organizations, fathers’ rights groups have also attempted to simply bully groups into supporting their cause. Bruce Wood of the Saskatoon Men’s Resource Centre, a male-positive, pro-feminist, gay-affirmative and anti-racist non-profit organization, told Briarpatch that the Centre “has been the target of an organized campaign of harassment by fathers’ rights activists in Saskatchewan and Alberta.” The Centre, Wood said, has been “flooded” with anonymous calls, voice mail messages and emails – many of which appear to have been scripted – voicing anger at everything from the courts to women’s violence against men.

“The objective of their harassment is to confront us on our public support of the feminist movement and our work on male violence against women,” Wood said. “They also have insisted that we take a public stand in favour of something they call ‘equal shared parenting.’”

These tactics have put many feminist and pro-feminist organizations further on the defensive as they seek to maintain services at a time of funding cuts and increased demand for services. Without an infusion of new volunteers, the Saskatoon Men’s Resource Centre is at risk of having to scale back its programming. Likewise, many feminist women’s organizations have borne the brunt of cutbacks. In Vancouver, 100 per cent of the North Shore Women’s Centre’s operational funding from the provincial government was cut in 2002 and the centre has only been able to keep its doors open through community support and fundraising. In the midst of these financial struggles, the North Shore Women’s Centre has struggled to block a local fathers’ rights organization from joining a local Coordinating Committee on Violence Against Women in Intimate Relationships. The committee had been alerted to the presence of the fathers’ rights activists when they lobbied to change the language in the District of North Vancouver’s violence policy to remove any mention of gender. Michelle Dodds of the North Shore Women’s Centre told Briarpatch, “we spent a lot of time trying to figure out if they were going to come to community meetings. If we thought they were going to present at a meeting, we had to prepare people so that they would understand what it was that they were saying.”

Although the committee was able to block the group from joining, they have increasingly had to devote already strained resources to providing services not just to abused women but also to men stirred up by the angry rhetoric of the support groups organized by the local fathers’ rights centre. These support groups have been effective at capitalizing on men’s feelings of loss after separation. Playing to traditional conceptions of male authority and entitlement, these groups build upon and stoke men’s sense of victimization, scapegoating their former spouses, feminists and the courts for the failure of their relationships.

One man in North Vancouver described to a community advocate how attending fathers’ rights support group meetings caused him to develop an anger he never had before he attended the meetings. Feminist and pro-feminist organizations have had to devote increasing energy to countering these myths of victimization and to supporting men to take responsibility for their role in the failure of the relationship. According to Bruce Wood, “there are lots of men (as there are women) who are full of grief, anger, sadness and shock after a relationship comes to an end. These men deserve to be heard and to be helped heal – not to have their anger fed like a fire for political lobbying purposes.” In a past Briarpatch article (March/April 2007), Wood asserts that “heterosexual men seeking connection with and support from other men have proven easy targets for . . . fathers’ rights organizations.” Wood goes on to suggest that our “unwillingness to support and deliver comprehensive education for adult men . . . is a significant contributing factor in our failure to reduce the rate of violence against women.”

The challenge for the feminist movement is to engage men in the discussion around the relationship between fatherhood and masculinity. We must engage in these discussions not only for men but also for women, who bear the brunt of abuse and are facing a disproportionate burden in caregiving that impacts their economic freedom before and after separation.

Fathers’ rights groups have proven very effective at reaching out to and supporting men who are anxious about their perceived loss of power in a relationship that is dissolving, turning that anxiety into anger, and directing that anger outward at spouses, women in general, and the courts. They have been equally proficient at taking equality language that was originally developed out of social justice movements and using it to support traditional ideas of masculinity.

Activists need to re-engage with and support feminist and pro-feminist organizations in our community, reclaim the language of substantive equality, and contribute to rebuilding a national feminist movement to counter the fathers’ rights movement and push for real equality pre- and post-separation.

Sidebar: Challenging the myths of the fathers rights movement

By Deanna Ogle

Myth #1 – Men face a disproportionate burden when paying child support

In 1997, the federal government brought forward child support guidelines to regulate the amount that non-residential parents are obligated to pay to support their children. Prior to the regulations being introduced, recipients of child support saw their income go down by 29 per cent after divorce and the income of the payers increased 20 per cent. Clearly there was a need to balance the situation.

These new guidelines calculated payments according to income and the number of children, and have helped set a common standard across Canada that had not previously existed. That same year, the tax law was changed so that child support payments were no longer tax deductible by the payee. For many men, these policy changes represented an increase in the support they were expected to pay. The fathers’ rights group Fathers Are Capable Too characterized the regulations as “arbitrary, greedy and [an] inaccurate formulation by people who knew better.”

But according to the courts, child support is the right of the child and in their view it is the right of children to enjoy a standard of living similar to that of the non-residential parent.

Myth #2 – Men face a women-friendly bias when applying for custody

There has been a dramatic shift over the past several years towards joint custody. Joint custody in Canada allows for a child to spend similar amounts of time with each parent and requires shared decision-making. Usually there is a primary parent and generous access for the non-residential parent, with major decisions like where the child attends school made by both parents. The difference between joint custody and equal shared parenting is that joint custody is awarded on a case-by-case basis and the decision is made based on the best interests of the child. In 2004, just under half of all custody cases were granted jointly; this number roughly equalled the number of cases where custody was given to the wife only. Sole custody was given to the father in only eight per cent of the cases that year. This has led fathers’ rights groups to argue that women receive custody whenever they ask for it and men almost never receive custody. However, given that decision-making and access to children is shared in almost half of all custody and access cases, it can hardly be said, as Fathers for Justice does on their website, that “family law has evolved from being anti-female to anti-male … the pendulum has swung too far.”

In his paper “Hard Time to be a Father: Reassessing the Relationship Between Law, Policy and Family,” Richard Collier, a British legal theorist on men and family law, challenges the assumption that custody should be 50/50 between men and women, arguing that it devalues the ongoing work of women in caring for children. Collier questions the courts’ emphasis on shifting parenting practices after the relationship has broken down and instead calls for men to be accountable for their parenting practices during relationships. According to Statistics Canada, men currently do not contribute 50 per cent of the labour of raising a child and make few of the career sacrifices, so joint custody represents a substantial shift in parenting dynamics. Contrary to the myth of a women-friendly court system, it seems that the courts are giving men the benefit of the doubt in awarding joint-custody in such large numbers.

A disturbing reality is that the likelihood of sole custody being given to the father may increase if the mother alleged that the father was abusive to her or the children during the course of their relationship. In survey of 100 self-identified protective parents by researchers at California State University, 94 per cent identified that they were the primary parent in the relationship prior to separation and 87 per cent had custody at the time of separation. However, after reporting child abuse only 27 per cent of the mothers were left with custody after the resulting court proceedings. Forty-five per cent of the mothers were labelled as causing “Parental Alienation Syndrome” in their children. (See below for a discussion of Parental Alienation Syndrome.)

Myth #3 – Women often make up stories of abuse to discredit the other parent’s custody bid

The fathers’ rights movement alleges that women lie to the courts and make up stories of abuse to “get back” at the father. Groups like Fathers are Capable Too argue that Parental Alienation Syndrome, a supposed condition with no scientific foundation, is a disorder that results from the dysfunctional and adversarial divorce system.

Only five per cent of separation and divorce cases end up as “high conflict” cases where parents are not able to come to a mutual agreement on custody, access and child support, but instead go to trial. High-conflict family law cases are often characterized by a history of violence within the family. If they acknowledge such violence, fathers’ rights activists characterize these cases as instances of men driven to violence over the stress of the legal battle, lashing out in anger at spouses who have unfairly denied their access to their children. However, many fathers’ rights sites don’t even bother to justify violence as they simply deny it exists, claiming that women unfairly and inaccurately fabricate stories of abuse in order to separate the children from their father.

This narrative of embittered women lashing out at helpless fathers through the children represents one of the main areas of pseudo-science that has emerged from the father’s rights movement: Parental Alienation Syndrome. Parental Alienation Syndrome was “discovered” by the late Dr. Richard Gardner in 1985 while he was working as a paid consultant to men charged with sexually abusing their children. Gardner defined Parental Alienation Syndrome as “a disorder that arises primarily in the context of child custody disputes.” He claimed that “it results from a combination of a programming (brainwashing) parent’s indoctrinations and the child’s own contributions to the vilification of the target parent.”

Gardner often dismissed claims of abuse voiced by children as merely symptoms of parental alienation, where one parent (typically the mother) has turned the children against the other parent.

Critics of Gardner’s work, and there are many, have highlighted that Parental Alienation Syndrome fails to account for the multiple factors potentially contributing to a child’s rejection of a parent, thus grossly oversimplifying a complex situation. Gardner justifies this simplification based on a very constrictive definition of how “real” sexually abused children behave. If an abused child does not behave in the narrow manner that Gardner proposes, he assumes no abuse has taken place. Thus, Parental Alienation Syndrome’s assessment procedures rely on a circular logic that almost guarantees the conclusion that a given child has the syndrome.

In Canada, two Queen’s University law professors, Nicholas Bala and John Schuman, reviewed 196 judges’ decisions between 1990 and 1998 where allegations of physical and sexual abuse were made in the context of separation in order to determine what patterns emerged. They found that judges concluded that only a third of all false allegations were a result of individuals deliberately lying in court. Moreover, the study found that men were far more likely to make intentionally false allegations of abuse, as 21 per cent of men brought forward intentionally false allegations compared to only 1.3 per cent of women.

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By Lorne Brown
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

A review of:

Dark Days: The story of four Canadians tortured in the name of fighting terror
By Kerry Pither
Foreword by Maher Arar
Viking, 2008

Dark Days is about the imprisonment and torture of four innocent Canadians in Syria in the furtherance of the so-called “war on terror” launched by George W. Bush. The four men, all Muslims, are Maher Ahar (361 days in Syrian detention), Abdullah Almalki (more than 22 months in Syria), Ahmad El Maati (two years, two months and two days in Syria and Egypt) and Muayyed Nureddin (34 days in Syria). Not one of them was ever charged with any crime. Not one has ever had any connection to or any sympathy with al-Qaeda or any similar group. All are against terrorism in principle.

The book is based on almost five years of interviews, the findings of the Arar Inquiry report, documents and testimony presented to the Inquiry and other public documents. While Dark Days tells the story of the four men it also does an excellent job of relating their fate to a deteriorating political and human rights climate and demonstrating the culpability of Canadian officials.

In the wake of the 9/11 attacks, anti-Muslim hysteria was whipped up in the United States. This hysteria took the form of the Patriot Act, the harassment and imprisonment of thousands of American Muslims, the imprisonment and torture of people of various nationalities in secret CIA prisons around the world and in Guantanamo, and the “extraordinary rendition” of people to Syria, Egypt and other countries where torture was a regular feature of the penal system.

Canada responded with a lower-profile parallel of what happened in the United States, joining the invasion of Afghanistan and rolling back civil liberties on the domestic front. Those measures were driven by purely economic considerations. As then-Deputy Prime Minister John Manley said on more than one occasion, “we can’t have them build a wall around the United States and us be on the outside of it. . . . We’ll need to satisfy them.” The result of the need to “satisfy them” was the Canadian Anti-terrorism Act (ATA), which was an all-out assault on civil liberties and totally unnecessary to deal with actual terrorism. The many and diverse critics of the Act were ignored. With the enthusiastic support of the business elite and the Conservatives, the Liberal majority quickly passed the ATA with little debate.

The ATA was buttressed with a Canada-U.S. action plan which, among other things, integrated border and national enforcement teams, “effectively merging the FBI and RCMP, the CIA and CSIS, and American and Canadian border officials, complicating any possibility for effective civilian oversight of their work,” Pither writes.

The legislation was accompanied by a huge budget of $7.7 billion for CSIS, the RCMP, immigration and refugee screening, military spending, airport security and border initiatives. Pither asks the pertinent question and provides the obvious answer: “Did all this spending make Canadians feel safer? That seemed beside the point – the budget, like the ATA, was about making the United States feel better about Canada.”

Pither details how CSIS and the RCMP were only too happy to collaborate with the CIA and the FBI. They began with the type of harassment of the Muslim community that should never be tolerated in a democracy. Maher Arar refers to some of this harassment in the book’s foreword: “Most preferred to keep silent about the harassment they experienced: frequent and invasive visits from CSIS officers to interview them, often at odd times of the day, or unexpected visits at their workplace. These visits would often include the officer’s advice that it would be better not to seek the professional help of a lawyer.”

This generalized harassment, however, was mild compared to the treatment meted out to Arar, El Maati, Almalki and Nureddin once they became “subjects of interest” to CSIS. They were badgered for interviews, followed everywhere night and day and generally hassled until their lives were seriously disrupted. The RCMP were brought into the picture in the hope that they could arrest the “suspects” and prosecute them as “terrorists”, but there was utterly no evidence to support such actions.

Then-RCMP Commissioner Giuliano Zaccardelli and Jack Hooper, formerly of CSIS, informed a Senate Committee that, “particularly since 9/11, we have had to accept going to a disruptive mode” and “at the end of the day if prosecution is not viable, there are other techniques.” The “other techniques” included the harassment mentioned above, as well as supplying false information to the FBI, the CIA, and Canadian and U.S. Customs. For instance, without an iota of evidence, they issued a “border lookout” describing Maher Arar, his wife, Monia Mazigh, and “other individuals” as “a group of Islamic Extremist individuals suspected of being linked to the al-Qaeda terrorist movement.” There would be many more such falsehoods fed to American authorities about Arar, Mazigh and the others by CSIS and the RCMP. When U.S. authorities “rendered” Arar to Syria for torture they made it clear that they were acting on information supplied by the Canadians.

Ahmad El Maati was detained on November 12, 2001; Abdullah Almalki on May 3, 2002; Maher Arar on September 22, 2002; and Muayyed Nureddin on December 11, 2003. All four spent most of their prison time at a notorious prison in Damascus known as Far’Falastin, where they were held in underground cells and tortured and interrogated with information from Canada.

The parts of the book dealing with this imprisonment and torture make for difficult reading and should make any Canadian ashamed that officials of our government were accessories to such barbarity. The cells were more like graves. They were three by six by seven feet with no light, heat or mattress. They were overrun with insects and rats. Prisoners remained constantly in their cells except for a two-minute bathroom break per day and for interrogation sessions often accompanied by torture. They did not see other prisoners and could communicate only by whispers between cells – they were beaten if they were caught doing so. The food was inadequate and often rotten. The torture sessions were frequent and horrendous, and often lasted hours at a time. Whipping with a steel cable was common, especially on the soles of the feet. Being suspended in a tire and whipped on various parts of the body was common. Electric shocks were used. Punching and kicking were common even when prisoners were not being interrogated.

While these horrors were going on in Far’Falastin, CSIS was attempting to get permission from Syrian intelligence to interview Canadian prisoners and, when this was denied, sent intelligence-gathering questions to be asked on their behalf. CSIS and the RCMP also did their best to create the impression with the Syrian authorities that Canada would prefer the four be kept imprisoned in Far’Falastin.

Had Maher Arar not been so fortunate as to be married to Monia Mazigh, he and the others might still be in prison or worse. Monia did not buy into the “quiet diplomacy” argument some Canadian diplomats were then mouthing and began a courageous and sophisticated public campaign to bring Maher Arar back to Canada and establish his innocence. She was soon joined in this campaign by Alex Neve of Amnesty International, Riad Saloojee from the Canadian Council on American-Islamic Relations, Kerry Pither and many others.

Monia Mazigh and her supporters waged a campaign which eventually rallied enough people to force the government to call for the release of the prisoners and their return to Canada. Maher Arar was the first to be released; he and Mazigh then began a campaign to demand a public inquiry which would clear his name and determine what role Canadian officials played in the outrage. It was an uphill battle in which volunteers with few resources were pitted against the resources of the state and a milieu in which much of the media was hostile. The government relied on “leaks” of false information, much of it obtained under torture, to co-operative journalists. The purpose was to destroy Arar’s reputation and make it impossible to get to the bottom of what actually happened.

The vicious campaign backfired, however, and the government eventually bowed to public pressure. In February 2004 they appointed Justice Dennis O’Connor, Associate Chief Justice of Ontario, commissioner of the Arar Inquiry. O’Connor would prove to be an honest and conscientious commissioner who tried to get to the bottom of things despite being blocked at every turn by CSIS, the RCMP and officials from other government agencies. Many of the documents he did obtain were heavily redacted.

Despite the obstacles, O’Connor’s report completely exonerated Maher and was sharply critical of the RCMP, CSIS, elements of the media and the role of some Canadian diplomatic officials in contributing to the outrage. O’Connor recommended that there be a separate inquiry into the cases of El Maati, Almalki, and Nureddin. He also recommended that the government implement a program to better oversee the RCMP, CSIS and other agencies to prevent such abuse in the future.

So far only a few of O’Connor’s recommendations have been implemented. The government accepted that Arar was completely innocent, issued an apology and paid compensation, though no amount of money can restore what they helped destroy. In December 2006, retired Supreme Court Justice Frank Iacobucci was appointed as commissioner of an “Internal Inquiry” to examine the role of Canadian officials in the imprisonment and torture (the government calls it “mistreatment”) of El Maati, Almalki and Nureddin. Unfortunately the word “internal” has governed the workings of the Iacobucci Inquiry on the specious grounds of “national security.” There have been only two days of public hearings and the victims, their lawyers and other interested parties have not even been allowed to see the key documents. The report of the Iacobucci Inquiry may yet prove useful, but in the meantime El Maati, Almalki and Nureddin continue to live broken lives, hoping for redress.

Meanwhile, CSIS, the RCMP and the Canadian government have shown few signs of changing their ways. No action has been taken on O’Connor’s recommendations for improved oversight of security agencies. CSIS and the RCMP are both completely unrepentant and continue in their old ways. Both agencies think they’re above the law and complain bitterly that they should be subjected to any accountability. RCMP Chief Superintendent Ben Soave, crucially involved with this dirty work for the RCMP, has dismissed the scrutiny arising from federal inquiries as “judicial terrorism.” Jack Hooper, former deputy director of CSIS, describes it as “legal jihad.” Pither points out that cases similar to those detailed in her book have come to light more recently. One still unfolding right now is that of Abousfian Abdelrazik, who was detained and tortured in Sudan at the request of CSIS. He has now been cleared by CSIS, the RCMP and the Sudanese authorities but the Harper government continues to obstruct his return to Canada. Presumably they fear what he might have to say.

The final outrage is that the perpetrators of these crimes have not been brought to justice. Those responsible have broken several Canadian and international laws and international conventions signed by Canada. Fortunately, torture is illegal and so are actions aiding and abetting the practice. There are now people in the United States preparing legal cases against members of the former Bush administration for torture. Hopefully some progressive and enterprising lawyers will initiate a similar process in Canada.

All of the author’s proceeds from the sale of Dark Days will go to Amnesty International Canada.

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By Reuel S. Amdur
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

A review of:

Less Law, More Order: The truth about reducing crime
Praeger, 2007

Irvin Waller, a professor of criminology at the University of Ottawa, has made it his career and mission to get governments throughout much of the world to shift their emphasis from law enforcement to prevention, with some limited success. His book is a plaintive cry for movement by government in the direction of more attention to crime preventive approaches. There is something of an undercurrent of frustration: can’t you politicians learn from the clear scientifically proven evidence? It’s all there. Why don’t you do what is so clear?

He has a point.

What Waller shows is that huge expenditures on enforcement do not lead to substantial decreases in crime. Instead, they eat up the money that could better be spent to prevent crime and they lead to correctional facilities bursting at the seams. He points to strategies that are more effective.

Focus, he says, on public health nurses visiting new mothers, on good child care, on programs to cut down on dropouts and bullying in schools. Follow Vancouver’s lead in providing safe injection sites and Amsterdam’s approach to getting prostitution off the street. Buildings and communities can be planned to prevent crime through such measures as good lighting and neighbourhood watch programs based on a community development model, as opposed to the usual police-initiated approach.

Waller calls on cities to take the lead in the fight against crime by developing co-operative and targeted strategies among the various players – police, city planners, social agencies and schools – to identify the hot spots, diagnose causal factors and institute programs to address problem behaviour, setting specific targets for change. Cities, he argues, must lead the way.

One can pick at a point here and there in his presentation. For example, the savings Waller sees accruing from his approach occur over time, but they demand major expenditures here and now – a significant commitment that Waller underplays.

While the kind of co-operative approach to local prevention advocated by Waller can help alleviate the crime problem, the governmental structures we have in place do not make the task any easier. Local governments are severely hampered in their capacity to raise revenues. Provinces are unwilling to give municipalities the power to levy an income tax, a power that a number of American cities exercise.

All that said, Waller’s approach makes good sense. It would reduce crime and save money that could better be spent on programs to improve conditions in our cities and our nation.

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Quotes from the Underground
Briarpatch Magazine

May/June 2009

“Those who, without outrightly advocating torture, accept it as a legitimate topic of debate, are in a way more dangerous than those who explicitly endorse it. Morality is never just a matter of individual conscience. It only thrives if it is sustained by what Hegel called ‘objective spirit,’ the set of unwritten rules which form the background of every individual’s activity, telling us what is acceptable and what is unacceptable. For example, a sign of progress in our societies is that one does not need to argue against rape: it is ‘dogmatically’ clear to everyone that rape is wrong, and we all feel that even arguing against it is too much. If someone were to advocate the legitimacy of rape, it would be a sad sign if one had to argue against him – he should simply appear ridiculous. And the same should hold for torture.

“This is why the greatest victims of publicly admitted torture are all of us, the public that is informed about it. We should all be aware that some precious part of our collective identity has been irretrievably lost. We are in the middle of a process of moral corruption: those in power are literally trying to break a part of our ethical backbone, to dampen and undo what is arguably civilization’s greatest achievement, the growth of our spontaneous moral sensitivity.”

Slavoj Žižek, In Defense of Lost Causes

`

“…if torture and coercion are both as useless as critics pretend, why are they used so much? While some abuse and outright torture can be attributed to individual sadism, poor supervision and so on, it must be the case that other acts of torture occur because interrogators believe, in good faith, that torture is the only way to extract information in a timely fashion. It must also be the case that if experienced interrogators come to this conclusion, they do so on the basis of experience. The argument that torture and coercion do not work is contradicted by the dire frequency with which both practices occur.”

Michael Ignatieff, “If torture works…”, Prospect, April 2006

`

“Despite the mystique that surrounds it, and the understandable impulse to treat it as aberrant behaviour beyond politics, torture is not particularly complicated or mysterious. A tool of the crudest kind of coercion, it crops up with great predictability whenever a local despot or a foreign occupier lacks the consent needed to rule: Marcos in the Philippines, the shah in Iran, Saddam in Iraq, the French in Algeria, the Israelis in the occupied territories, the U.S. in Iraq and Afghanistan. The list could stretch on and on. The widespread abuse of prisoners is a virtually foolproof indication that politicians are trying to impose a system – whether political, religious or economic – that is rejected by large numbers of the people they are ruling.

“Just as ecologists define ecosystems by the presence of certain ‘indicator species’ of plants and birds, torture is an indicator species of a regime that is engaged in a deeply anti-democratic project, even if that regime happens to have come to power through elections.”

Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine

`

“I have nightmares about being tortured.”

(A statement volunteered during an student ice-breaker exercise in Regina last year, which asked politically active undergraduates to state truths about themselves. Participants were asked to indicate agreement with the statements of others. Organizers were surprised that nearly every student present expressed agreement with the above.)

`

Suggestions for Quotes from the Underground are welcome and can be sent to editor AT briarpatchmagazine DOT com.

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Photo by Leroy Schulz
Photo by Leroy Schulz

By Anna Reitman
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

Everybody’s looking for a lifeline to pull themselves out of the global downturn. But with giant bailout packages failing to provide stability in the U.S. and grim predictions for the remainder of 2009, what are the emerging opportunities for secure and lucrative investment?

Financial experts the world over are surveying the wreckage of the global economy to devise a comprehensive investment strategy. They seek a strategy capable of turning high unemployment rates, huge pension losses, surging consumer bankruptcies and home foreclosures to their advantage.

One need look no further, though, than the human dramas playing out on the evening news. The arms trade is one industry virtually guaranteed to continue delivering higher than average returns during the global economic retrenchment.

The global trend towards increased military expenditures is evident in such recent opportunity zones as Israel/Palestine, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, South Ossetia and the ongoing skirmishes in Somalia, Afghanistan and Iraq. Military expenditures worldwide have ballooned to more than $1 trillion a year and continue to rise. With no end in sight for the nine major and 17 smaller-scale armed conflicts in the world, brisk sales of arms and military equipment can be anticipated at least through 2012.

Free-market enthusiasts will be pleased to note, however, that these growth opportunities extend beyond the state-controlled defence industries of the world’s leading military powers. They also reach into the efficiently unregulated global market in small arms.

Mexico, for instance, is an emerging market that should not go overlooked. A strong narco-state transit hub, it is also the number one importer of small arms worldwide. As a fellow signatory to the North American Free Trade Agreement, Canada is in the enviable position of being one of Mexico’s top suppliers. With gang wars breaking out over lucrative drug routes that criss-cross the entire globe, demand for small arms to facilitate these conflicts will remain strong. Canada is well positioned to capitalize on this booming industry because of its leadership role in global hot spots like Afghanistan and Haiti.

Some investors may feel uncomfortable counting on criminal enterprise to deliver the returns they have come to expect. For those “ethical” investors, there is an alternative. Privatized prisons in the United States have reliably delivered high returns, particularly during downturns in the business cycle. As unemployment, evictions and foreclosures increase, the prison population can also be expected to enjoy healthy growth. In the current “tough on crime” political climate, cost savings from the reduction of non-essential services like medical care, food and correctional guard training could increase these profits considerably.

For those seeking to invest closer to home, the recent surge in public support for tougher approaches to crime in Canada may also lead to new markets for human incarceration service delivery. More privatized prisons in more countries should result in higher dividends for the ethical shareholder.

The average shareholder, though, is perhaps more adventurous in seeking out the next lucrative bubble – for them, arms are the new real estate.

The Japanese symbol for “disaster capitalism” is composed of the symbols for “danger” and “opportunity.” Investors navigating the global financial crisis should remember that robust turnover in weapons inventory will, sadly, result in some collateral damage. The shrewd investor will seek out opportunities to turn collateral damage into collateral advantage. Construction companies, for instance, can vault over the housing slump and go directly to reconstruction contracts on territory that has been cleared of hostile occupants by warfare or natural disasters.

Similarly, local contracts can be gifted to Canada’s battered auto sector by retooling it to produce military vehicles. Other spinoff sectors sure to enjoy a collateral advantage are the energy, technology, pharmaceutical and security industries. This abundant economic activity will keep the discerning money manager sleeping soundly, investments tucked away safe.

Two-thousand-and-nine could yet be a comeback year. There is no need to worry about the future of the economy; the rules are operating just as they should.

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