
Priyadarshini Thangarajah

Over the past few years, a troubling new trend at the international human rights level is being observed, where discourses on ‘protecting the family’ are being employed to defend violations committed against family members, to bolster and justify impunity, and to restrict equal rights within and to family life.
The campaign to "Protect the Family" is driven by ultra-conservative efforts to impose "traditional" and patriarchal interpretations of the family, and to move rights out of the hands of family members and into the institution of ‘the family’.
Since 2014, a group of states have been operating as a bloc in human rights spaces under the name “Group of Friends of the Family”, and resolutions on “Protection of the Family” have been successfully passed every year since 2014.
This agenda has spread beyond the Human Rights Council. We have seen regressive language on “the family” being introduced at the Commission on the Status of Women, and attempts made to introduce it in negotiations on the Sustainable Development Goals.
AWID works with partners and allies to jointly resist “Protection of the Family” and other regressive agendas, and to uphold the universality of human rights.
In response to the increased influence of regressive actors in human rights spaces, AWID joined allies to form the Observatory on the Universality of Rights (OURs). OURs is a collaborative project that monitors, analyzes, and shares information on anti-rights initiatives like “Protection of the Family”.
Rights at Risk, the first OURs report, charts a map of the actors making up the global anti-rights lobby, identifies their key discourses and strategies, and the effect they are having on our human rights.
The report outlines “Protection of the Family” as an agenda that has fostered collaboration across a broad range of regressive actors at the UN. It describes it as: “a strategic framework that houses “multiple patriarchal and anti-rights positions, where the framework, in turn, aims to justify and institutionalize these positions.”
Al unirme a AWID, espero poder ayudar a la movilización del movimiento feminista. No solo para las mujeres privilegiadas, sino para TODAS las mujeres y activistas feministas.- Angelina Mootoo, feminista interseccional y caribeña, Guyana/EEUU
Мы проанализируем ответы, чтобы получить представление о тенденциях, и представим результаты на 15-м Международном форуме AWID в Бангкоке, а также в режиме онлайн, в декабре 2024 года. Зарегистрируйтесь для участия в Форуме здесь!
The feminist reality that I want to share is about weaving networks in which we uphold one another. Networks which come together in different ways, which emerge from our shared vulnerability, and which make all of us stronger.
The streets of Chamberí, my neighbourhood in Madrid, became much more of a home following the gatherings in the plazas organized by the citizens movement that originated in a rally on May 15, 2011. I think about how, during those years, we met each other and were able to associate faces, voices, smiles with so many neighbours who previously were only silhouettes without names or pasts, and who we passed by without seeing or hearing each other. I think about how we’ve become involved and dedicated; how we’ve woven a palpable, tangible community; how we’ve been advancing hand in hand towards building a new more inhabitable world, which we want and that we urgently need to create.
A group of activists and utopian neighbours, (in the best sense of the word utopian) – that moves us to action to do something real – that group for me was practically the first that reacted differently when I shared a part of my history and identity with them. With these women I shared my psychiatric diagnosis, my multiple hospital stays, the number of daily pills that accompanied me, my disability certificate, my difficulty in preserving that vital link that periodically disintegrates in my hands.
These neighbours, friends, comrades, links, loves –did not only not distance themselves from me once they got to know someone who many others had labelled as problematic, manipulator, egotistical – but became my principal network of affection and mutual support. They decided to navigate with me when the sea became agitated with storms. These people have given a different meaning to my days.
Building our feminist reality also encompasses carrying the “I believe you, sister” that we use when a friend has suffered a macho attack to the violence experienced by psychiatrized women at the hands of the very psychiatric system and institutions that are supposed to help us (and instead are often the new abuser who traumatizes and hurts us all over again). And this reality must include respect for our decisions, without taking away our agency and capacity to direct our own steps to one space or another; to listen to our narratives, desires, needs…without trying to impose others that are alien to us. It means not delegitimizing our discourse, not alluding to the label of our diagnosis, nor our madness.
With these transformation, each stay in the psychiatric institute did erase the ties that we had been able to build, but instead this network stayed by my side, its members took turns so that each day there would be no lull in calls, in visits, so that I could feel them as close as one can feel another person separated by locked doors (but unfortunately open for abuse) within the confines of the psychiatric ward. Through the warmth and kindness from my people I could rebuild that vital link that had once again been broken.
The even bigger leap happened when I was already aware of the numerous violent acts and abuse (where among other assaults, I spent days strapped to a bed, relieving myself where I lay), I decided that I would not go back to being interned.
This network of care, these women neighbours-friends-loves-comrades, they respected my refusal to return to the hospital and supported me through each crisis I’ve been through since then. Without being interned, without violence.
They took turns accompanying me when my link to life was so broken that I felt such a huge risk which I couldn’t handle on my own. They organized WhatsApp group check-ins. They coordinated care and responsibilities so that no one would feel overwhelmed - because when an individual feels overloaded, they make decisions based on fear and the need for control instead of prioritizing accompaniment and care.
That first crisis that we were able to surmount together in this way – without being admitted to the psychiatric institute, represented a dramatic change in my life. There were months when my life was at risk, of intense suffering and of so much fear for my people and for me. But we overcame it together, and all that I thought was that if we could get over that crisis, then we could also find ways to face all the difficulties and crises that may come.
These feminist realities that we’re building day by day keep expanding, growing and taking different forms. We’re learning together, we’re growing together. Distancing ourselves from a welfare mentality, one of the first lessons was that, in reality, there wouldn’t be anyone receiving care (because of a psychiatric label) or anyone helping, from the other side of the sanity/insanity line. We learnt – we’re learning – to move to a different key – that of mutual support, of providing care and being cared for, of caring for each other.
We’ve also explored the limits of self care and the strength of collectivizing care and redistributing it so it’s not a burden that paralyzes us; we learnt – and we keep learning today – about joy and enjoying care that is chosen.
Another recent learning is about how difficult it was to start integrating money as another component of mutual support that we all give and receive. It was hard for us to realize how internalized capitalism kept on reverberating in our relationship with money, and that even though no one expected any payment for the containers of lentils we cooked amongst us when eating and cooking were difficult tasks, our expectation regarding money was different. Phrases like “how much you have is how much you’re worth” become stuck inside of us without critically analyzing them. It’s easy to keep thinking that the money each one has is related to the effort made to earn it, and not due to other social conditioning distant from personal merit. In fact, within this well-established mutual support network – redistributing money based on needs without questioning – was still a remote reality for our day to day. That’s why this is something that we’ve recently started to work on and think through as a group.
We want to get closer to that anti-capitalist world where mutual support is the way that we have chosen to be in the world; and that entails deconstructing our personal and collective relationship with money and internalized capitalism.
In these feminist realities we also know that learning never stops, and that the road continues to be shaped as we travel upon it. There is still much to do to keep caring for ourselves, to keep expanding perspectives and to make ourselves more aware of the persistent power imbalances, of privileges that we hold and continue to exercise, without realizing the violence that they reproduce.
Though we’ve already travelled so far, we still have a long way to go to get closer to that new world that we hold in our hearts (and for some within our crazy little heads too). Racism, classism, adult-centrism, fat-phobia, and machismo that persists among our partners.
Among the pending lessons, we’ve needed for a long time already to build a liveable future in which feminism is really intersectional and in which we all have space, in which the realities and oppressions of other sisters are just as important as our own. We also need to move forward horizontally when we build collectively – getting rid of egos, of protagonisms, to live together and deal with the need for recognition in a different way. And to also keep making strides grounded in the awareness that the personal is always, always political.
How we relate to and link with each other cannot be relegated to the private domain, nor kept silent: other loves are possible, other connections and other families are necessary, and we are also inventing them as we go.
This new world which we want to create, and that we need to believe in – is this kind world – in which we can love, and feel pride in ourselves – and in which all worlds will fit. We’ll keep at it.
Looking at activists and feminists as healers and nourishers of the world, in the midst of battling growing right wing presence, white supremacy and climate change. This piece highlights how our feminist reality puts kindness, solidarity, and empathy into action by showing up and challenging the status quo to liberate us all.
Sarah Hegazy, una audaz activista egipcia por los derechos LGBTQI+, vivía en una sociedad en la que lxs integrantes de su comunidad, sus cuerpos y sus vidas, enfrentan prejuicios letales a menudo. La resistencia de Sarah estaba arraigada en la deconstrucción del sistema dominante, opresor y patriarcal, y de sus actores antiderechos.
«[En Egipto], toda persona que no sea varón, musulmán, suní, heterosexual y partidario del sistema, es rechazada, reprimida, estigmatizada, arrestada, exiliada o asesinada. Este problema se relaciona con el sistema patriarcal en su conjunto, ya que el Estado no podría ejercer su represión contra lxs ciudadanxs, si no hubiera una opresión preexistente desde la infancia», escribió Sarah Hegazy el 6 de marzo de 2020
La supresión de la voz de Sarah por parte del gobierno egipcio alcanzó su pico más violento en 2017, cuando fue arrestada por alzar una bandera arcoíris en el recital de Mashrou’ Leila (una banda libanesa cuyo cantante principal es abiertamente gay) en El Cairo. Fue acusada de pertenecer a un grupo ilegal, y de «promover la desviación sexual y el libertinaje».
«Fue un acto de apoyo y solidaridad, no solamente con el cantante [de Mashrou’ Leila] sino con todas las personas oprimidas... Nos enorgulleció alzar la bandera. Nunca nos imaginamos la reacción de la sociedad y del Estado egipcio. Para ellos, yo era una criminal: alguien que buscaba destruir la estructura moral de la sociedad.» - Sarah Hegazy
Sarah estuvo encarcelada por tres meses, durante los cuales fue torturada y agredida sexualmente. En enero de 2018, después de ser liberada bajo fianza, pidió asilo en Canadá, donde estaba segura, pero seguía prisionera de los recuerdos del abuso y la violencia que su cuerpo y su alma habían sufrido.
«Salí de esta experiencia después de tres meses con un caso muy intenso y serio de TEPT [trastorno por estrés postraumático]. La prisión me mató. Me destruyó», dijo Sarah Hegazy a NPR.
Sarah se quitó la vida el 14 de junio de 2020, luego de dejar una nota escrita a mano en árabe:
«A mis hermanxs: traté de encontrar redención y fallé, perdónenme.
A mis amigxs: la experiencia [el viaje] fue muy dura y soy demasiado débil como para resistir, perdónenme.
Al mundo: has sido tremendamente cruel, pero perdono.»
Su legado y su coraje continuarán, llevados adelante por quienes la aman y creen en aquello por lo que Sarah luchó.
«A Sarah: Descansa, solo descansa, libre de esta violencia implacable, de este patriarcado letal impulsado por el Estado. Con rabia, con dolor, con extenuación, resistimos.» - Rasha Younes, investigadora sobre derechos LGBT de Human Rights Watch. Lee el texto completo
El vocalista de Mashrou’ Leila canta un tributo a Sarah Hegazy
Caroline ha estado de forma periódica en AWID; en fechas anteriores, organizó los foros de 2005 y 2008 en Bangkok y Ciudad del Cabo, y cumplió otras funciones institucionales. Antes de incorporarse a AWID, impartió clases de inglés de pregrado, luego abandonó el ámbito académico para dirigir el Festival Internacional de Cine Asiático de Toronto y trabajar en otros proyectos. En fechas más recientes, se ha desempeñado como Responsable de Operaciones en Spring Strategies. Fuera del plano laboral, Caroline generalmente puede ser hallada a su jardín, en comunión con sus queridas plantas e intentando hacer las paces con los insectos y los roedores que suelen aparecer.
Vous avez des questions concernant le Forum de l’AWID ou les activités connexes ? Nous avons des réponses !
"This community is a place for connections, to understand our individual fights as part of global struggles, and sometimes even dance! There aren’t places like this online where you can meet real grassroots activists from all over the world and build solidarity and sisterhood."
- Paz Romero, Argentina
Cette œuvre est la collaboration photographique et illustrative réalisée par Siphumeze et Katia pendant le confinement. Elle se penche sur les récits de sexe et de plaisir des queers noirs, le bondage, le sexe protégé, les jouets, la santé mentale et le sexe et bien d'autres choses encore. Elle a été créée pour accompagner l'anthologie Touch.
Siphumeze Khundayi est une créatrice d'art, photographe et animatrice qui s'intéresse aux moyens créatifs de réunir le dialogue et la pratique artistique en relation avec l'identité queer africaine.
Elle est directrice créative de HOLAAfrica!, un collectif panafricaniste féministe en ligne.
Ses travaux de performance en solo et collaboratifs ont été présentés dans un certain nombre de festivals et d'espaces théâtraux tels que le festival Ricca Ricca au Japon.
Elle a mis en scène deux productions nominées aux Naledi Awards en 2017 et 2018. Elle a aussi mis en scène un spectacle qui a remporté un prix Standard Bank Ovation en 2020.
En tant que photographe, elle a participé à une exposition de groupe intitulée Flowers of my Soul (Fleurs de mon âme) en Italie, organisée par le Misfit Project. Elle a produit trois publications pour HOLAAfrica et a été publiée dans le deuxième volume, pour lequel elle a fourni la couverture: As You Like des Gerald Kraak Anthologies.
Katia Herrera est une artiste visuelle numérique de 21 ans originaire de la ville bruyante de Saint-Domingue, en République dominicaine. Bien que Herrera soit une introvertie autoproclamée, ses œuvres d'art sont remarquablement fortes dans un monde qui tente de faire taire les voix des personnes noires. Avec des titres comme Black Woman (Femme Noire), You Own the Moon (La Lune t’Appartient), Earth Goddess (Déesse de la Terre), Forever (Pour Toujours) et Universe Protector (Protecteur.rice de l’Univers), l'héritage de Herrera sera marqué par sa volonté passionnée de mettre en lumière l'endurance et la persévérance des Noir·e·s d'hier et d'aujourd'hui, afin de contrer le discours selon lequel la peau noire ne devrait être associée qu'à l'esclavage.
L'une de ses œuvres la plus belle et la plus vivante, Universe Protector, dépeint l'âme noire comme une entité divine pleine de force, de puissance et de grandeur. C’est dans sa jeunesse que son amour du graphisme a été stimulé grâce à l'art de ses parents et le Photoshop qu'ils avaient téléchargé sur leur ordinateur pour leur photographie professionnelle.
Alexandra est une féministe anglo-colombienne qui dispose de plus de 20 ans d'expérience dans les programmes locaux, nationaux et internationaux en matière de VIH et de santé et droits sexuels et reproductifs. Elle possède une vaste expérience dans la mobilisation de ressources et les relations donateur·rice·s avec des fondations philanthropiques privées et des agences multilatérales pour le compte d'ONG internationales, nationales et locales, principalement situées en Amérique latine et dans les Caraïbes. Avant de rejoindre l'AWID, Alexandra a travaillé à la Fundación Si Mujer, une prestataire féministe d’accès à l’avortement et éducatrice en Colombie, à RedTraSex et à l'Alliance internationale contre le VIH/SIDA.
Alexandra est titulaire d'une licence en relations internationales et en études de développement de l'Université du Sussex et d'un master en santé publique de la London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine. Dans les rares moments qui ne sont pas dédiés à son travail ou sa parentalité, elle adore nager, manger et a récemment commencé à jouer à Zelda: Breath of the Wild avec son fils.
Through labor and union organizing, Sopo, Sabrina and Linda are not only fighting for the rights of essential workers, women workers, migrant workers and sex workers, but the rights of all workers.
The fight to end workers’ exploitation is a feminist struggle, and shows us that there are no feminist economies without feminist unions.
Olajumoke ‘Jay’ Abdullahi and Kym Oliver are revolutionary feminists in more ways than one. (...)
artwork: “Bloomed” by Titash Sen >
Se rassembler à l’échelle mondiale, en tant qu’individus et mouvements, nous permet de générer une force considérable. Rejoignez-nous à Bangkok, en Thaïlande et en ligne en décembre 2024.
An exhibition by Nicole Barakat, embodying her reconnection with the diaspora of objects from her ancestral homelands in the South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA) region.
Barakat presents a collection of textile works as manifestations of her practice of engaging with displaced, and often stolen objects held within Western museum collections including the Louvre, British Museum and Nicholson Museum.
To by-pass the gatekeepers and breach the vitrines holding these ancestral objects, Barakat reclaims pre-colonial, non-linear, receptive forms of knowing that are often devalued and dismissed by colonial and patriarchal institutions - engaging with coffee cup divination, dream-work, intuitive listening and conversations with the objects themselves (source).
Nana is a feminist organizer and a reproductive rights and population policy researcher based in Egypt. She is a member of Realizing Sexual and Reproductive Justice (RESURJ), a member of the Advisory Board of the A Project in Lebanon, and a member of the Community Committee of Mama Cash. Nana holds an MSc in Public Health from KIT Institute and Vrije University in Amsterdam. In her work, she follows and contextualizes national population policies while building evidence that addresses modern eugenics, regressive international aid, and authoritarianism. Previously, she was part of the Geneva Foundation for Medical Education and Research, the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights, and Ikhtyar Feminist Collective in Cairo.