Dr Mishana Hosseinioun: “Objectivity is a virtue in a sense, but not when we sacrifice our humanity and compassion.”
“When you realize that at the end of the day everything does boil down to personal relationships, it’s a huge realization. Even the people who make up the International Criminal Court are individuals. We may be dealing with concepts like ‘the state’ or international institutions, but we also need to understand how the individual dynamics play into that. ”
Dr. Mishana Hosseinioun is a Lecturer in International Relations at the University of Oxford, where she is a scholar of Middle Eastern politics and human rights. She is a Visiting Fellow at the Centre for International Studies at the London School of Economics, and the author of ‘The Human Rights Turn and the Paradox of Progress in the Middle East’ (Palgrave Macmillan, 2018). Dr. Hosseinoun is also president of MH Group, a global consultancy specialising in high profile international legal and diplomatic case files before the UN Human Rights Council, the International Criminal Court, and the African Commission and Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights. MH Group has worked on the cases of Saif al-Islam Gaddafi, former South Korean president Park Geun-hye, and most recently launched a successful initiative for the Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court to open an investigation into war crimes and crimes against humanity committed in Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem.
Speaking to her work as both a practitioner and a theorist, Dr. Hosseinoun talks to editor-in-chief Rosa Rahimi about her journey from California to Oxford as a justice advocate, balancing idealism with realism, and the messy (but rewarding) work of setting up her own consultancy to advance an agenda for realising international human rights.
You’ve described yourself as suffering from an “eternal optimism.” What is that optimism rooted in, and what is it for?
I think what I meant by that is that I am driven by a belief in something better, a belief in the possibility of peace, of justice, of realizing a more peaceful world – and I’ve always been driven by that. Some might label that as idealistic or naïve and I’ve realized over time that it is occasionally naïve to believe in those things. But it is definitely worth fighting for and occasionally, when I’m able to attain some sort of small victory in that direction, I’m rewarded for all the years of my lone journey towards justice and working for things that others might deem completely improbable or impossible. It’s almost like an affliction; I can’t help but want to improve the condition of the world. At the same time, it can be too much to take on my own and so I’ve learned to find others to join me on that journey. It’s really difficult, but it’s entirely worth it on days when you do get closer to justice. I’ll get more specific about what I mean when I talk about mini victories, but I think those taken together take us a little bit closer to a happier place. It’s definitely not a straightforward path and as I argue in my book, the path to progress anywhere is going to be bumpy and it’s not going to be a straightforward journey. Yeah so it’s a hard one but it’s one that I’m on and I can’t help it, I think it is part of my calling.
So you’d say your journey hasn’t been so straightforward either?
No, definitely not. I couldn’t tell you how I got here. But, I know that I am still on the right path because I’m doing the things I believe in and I love and am passionate about and that to me is a sign that I’m doing my part.
The start of this journey for you, before you were at Oxford, was as a human rights activist working in California. What made you decide to leave that world and take up an academic path, specifically in International Relations?
Well, I never really left that world. I was the programme director for a human rights non-profit organization in the Bay Area where the United Nations first started, where the Charter was signed, this is where it all began. I wanted to build on that legacy and be a part of that, as we all are, whether we know it or not. But it just made a lot of sense to work on that in tandem with my studies, so I did my undergraduate degrees at UC Berkeley and then went on to Oxford for my Masters and then Doctorate in International Relations. I feel like my non-profit work kind of morphed into what I’m doing now and once I finished my DPhil at Oxford, I set up my own consultancy. It’s really the outgrowth of my human rights non-profit work, but under a new umbrella organization that I started on my own that would allow me to take on causes and cases that were maybe a lot more complex than what an NGO could deal with. All of that is a natural, organic continuation of the work I started earlier and all of the experience that I gleaned from my earlier experiences really informed not just my work, but also my research. I realised it’s all connected so I didn’t take a completely different turn in my career – it was just the progression of what I’d been doing before.
You say by setting up your own consultancy, you became able to take on cases that would be more complex than what an NGO could do. What gives you that ability? That seems quite daunting, to set up your own consultancy and tackle these complicated issues.
Really it was about that freedom to take on bigger causes. Because non-profits, as wonderful as they are, and as noble as they are in their aims, have very limited means. Their energy is mainly dedicated to fundraising and that doesn’t leave much room for much else. I wanted to free myself from those constraints and see how I could still do the same things. So fundamentally, my mission is the same in wanting to work towards the promotion of human rights internationally. Then I saw myself being drawn into a more adult world of politics and I came to see that it’s a lot more complex – and I had to do it anyway. As messy and as complicated as that world is, I had to get involved, and this was my way of doing it. But it was also necessary for me to pursue my advanced degrees in order to have all the tools in my toolbelt to tackle these difficult issues. And I feel like the combination of those – the academic world and the ‘real world’ so to speak helped me on this mission.
How do you think having those degrees has served you – as being ‘tools’ in that ‘toolbelt’?
It taught me to be rigorous, disciplined, how to research thoroughly; how to have the legitimacy to be heard, that is the most important one. If you’re dealing with the big players on the international scene, you also have to have a degree of power of your own. And as individuals, we feel powerless often. We feel powerless to do anything, to change the status quo, and so I realized that I can arm myself with my degrees, with my knowledge, and with the experience that I got through both working in the non-profit centre and also in doing academic research. All of those helped me be where I am today.
I have wondered about that power which comes from ‘having’ degrees. It can be an empowering source of legitimacy, but perhaps also an exclusive one?
It definitely is. I recognize it is a real privilege and so I’m not going to take that lightly – I’m going to use it for good. It was never about the degrees; it was about where those degrees could take me and how I could use them to help others. So, I definitely recognize that it’s a real privilege to be at a place like Oxford or to even study. It is something I take extremely seriously and I want to use that to not just enrich myself, but to do whatever I can in the real world, with what I get within the walls of academia. I don’t intend to be in my ivory tower for very long. I think that it is important to balance that with actual activities in the actual world.
Do you feel ever kind of alone in that pursuit? Of wanting to leave that ivory tower? You mentioned earlier that it’s been a lone journey at times.
Definitely. First of all, I have to say that it’s not typically rewarded. You either are expected to follow a particular course and so, it’s not as popular to manage both an academic life and a practitioner life, as I have. It has been a very lonely journey, but I have been lucky enough to have amazing mentors and people who believe in me. That’s all it took for me to keep doing what I’m doing. But it’s never been easy, I have to say.
Mentorship is such a big part of it; it kind of validates the thing you’re doing. Are there any people in particular who stand out for you?
Yes, my beloved mentor and dear friend, Emeritus Professor Avi Shlaim at Oxford, who was my former supervisor. To this day, we are very close and have been working on things together. Those kinds of relationships matter so much and it is actually really nice to realize that even though, we may each be on our own journeys, we don’t have to be entirely alone and we can lean on others and depend on others. That makes things a lot easier and a lot more enjoyable too, because when you do attain your goals, you can celebrate together and it’s a really wonderful feeling. I know I’ve been kind of supported by Professor Shlaim to complete my degrees, to publish my book, to go out there and kick ass (laughs) in the world and that has been thanks to his support and care.
I’ll shift a little bit to ask about your work. Notably your firm, MH Group, worked on the case of former South Korean president Park Geun-hye and Saif al-Islam Gaddafi and for both, your work centred around advocating to protect their rights (i.e. against arbitrary detention, for access to counsel) even though these are people who were seen as pariahs of some sort. I am wondering why you decided to take on those cases in spite of what you’ve described as being a “significant personal and professional cost.”
I feel like those cases really exemplify what I was talking about with being on a very lonely journey. They were very unpopular and controversial cases for me to be involved in. However, I think the other common theme that runs through both is my unconditional and unwavering support for fundamental human rights and principles of justice for all. It’s not so much that I am supporting or defending one particular individual or the other, it’s that I want to ensure that those principles are upheld no matter what – even in the most challenging and tricky of cases. How else are we to ensure that human rights are upheld than in these trying political cases? They’re so heavily politicized that we tend to react more with our emotions, even our hatred, and those are all very toxic and ultimately counterproductive reactions. The fact that I was able to look beyond that, to the bigger picture, and to see how important it was to make sure that trial by media or any kind of political persecution was avoided, I see that as being my role.
Especially in cases like the Libyan one where we had major power political actors involved and in cases like South Korea, where there was blatant political persecution. So, I’m proud knowing that I did what history will later deem to be the right thing by not just reacting in the moment to more emotional, impulsive decisions. And again, I sometimes wonder how I got involved in cases like those, but I think it really is my strong suit that I’m able to see beyond that, to be above the mob mentality by wanting to put an end to those witch hunts. We are all hurt by that and it does not help us get anywhere closer to a state of peace or justice for all. For me, it really comes from a desire to stop that cycle of vengeance and toxicity that history has seen over and over again. I really believe that using our international rule of law mechanisms is the only way forward.
And do you think that these sorts of emotional, vengeful reactions are the greatest threats to those mechanisms?
Definitely, which is why we need to leave it to judges. I think it’s not up to us emotional beings to make those judgements. The rule of law is here to help us when we are blinded. I think we really do need to rely on those existing and also budding mechanisms, and we need to balance out volatile political pressures by using these international instruments. Over the years, I’ve become really familiar with them and I also recognize their limitations, but I still believe in what they’re capable of doing. And actually, over and over, I am being proven right. My belief and my eternal optimism is not entirely delusional, it is based on an understanding of how these mechanisms can evolve. And they are.
Where and how do you see them evolving right now?
If we’re to take the different regional human rights mechanisms, I’d say those are the by-product of the UN and the international human rights regime and they’re still evolving. They’re still developing and so they need to be pushed in the right direction. For instance, I was able to take the African Commission and Court on Human Rights and get it to hold Libya accountable when it came to the violation of human rights of one of its citizens. I would say that was a huge moment for regional human rights, because it’s not the case of an international actor or a Western actor coming in and saying: “Do this” or “Don’t do that”. It was about local justice. It made me happy to see that was possible. Or take the International Criminal Court. Some don’t believe in this institution and would say that it’s useless or that it’s just a political instrument, but through my involvement in the ICC and over the last few years, I would say that it’s actually living up to its mandate more and more every day. I don’t think people realize that the world that we live in today is not static. Even if a power like the United States doesn’t recognize the ICC, that’s not the end of the story; it doesn’t mean we should give up. I am able to project into the future a little bit and think well actually, maybe the US needs to catch up with these international normative shifts towards greater rights protections and international oversight. Even the global hegemon can and will potentially have to go along with rulings that come from an international body that’s rooted in human rights principles. And I should preface that the ICC itself is not a human rights court by any means, but I see it as complementary to our other human rights mechanisms and so I like to look for ways that we can leverage our existing instruments to propel human rights and justice forward.
You most recently ‘leveraged’ the ICC by making a Legal Submission to the Office of the Prosecutor in 2019 concerning the Situation in Palestine, asking them to open an investigation into crimes committed in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. How did that come about?
This is something I’ve been planning for many, many years now. In December 2019, I held a side event at the ICC, on the sidelines of the Assembly of States Parties meeting, and I also made the Legal Submission asking the office of the Prosecutor to formally investigate war crimes in Palestine. A week later, the Chief Prosecutor announced that they would take up this investigation. In my mind, that was a huge breakthrough. I had been told it would be impossible. Professor John Dugard, who was a part of the side event, told me he thought it would be impossible – and he’s seen it all, he’s lived through apartheid. But he agreed that I was actually right! It was nice to be vindicated in that way, because I did see that all we needed to do was remind the ICC of its prerogative and its mandate. In that way, we could bypass the politics. So I am really grateful to the ICC for having taken up this really heavy issue in spite of all the naysayers and the bullying from the US and others who say that the ICC has no role to play. But I do think it does.
Just the other day, the pre-trial chamber of the ICC ruled that it has jurisdiction to look at this case and to potentially prosecute. That is one of the biggest victories in the Israel-Palestine stalemate of many decades, and I do see that as a precursor to peace in the region, because we need accountability, we need past injustices addressed, and we need that process of literal truth and reconciliation in order to move forward.We cannot merely rely on political actors to sort things out in the region and so finally, we have judges deciding on the matter. Judges deciding that indeed, Palestine has legitimate grounds and standing to seek that justice. I see this as not just a personal victory for the work that I do, but a real victory for international justice and human rights protections. Whenever I can be a part of that, I feel satisfied – and I know this is just the beginning too. So I will continue to work on that and I have been so lucky to have an amazing team working with me towards those seemingly impossible goals.
Likewise, I bring my former students to intern with me so that I can show them the ropes. I like to say that I am training them to be peace warriors. There’s only so much we can learn in the classroom; the real value is in applying that and seeing how the real-world works, in testing what is possible. So, I had my students involved in this process too and they were able to learn about how to pitch to the prosecutor and how to use these legal tools that we have to move something as intractable as the Israel-Palestine situation. I am still speechless over this recent development, but I feel very proud of myself for believing it would be possible and for sticking to it and not giving up. Honestly, when I get exhausted and feel like all hope is lost, there is a reminder like this that my work isn’t in vain and that it is working towards something. And that gives me the energy to move forward.
There’s so much there! There are two aspects I want to follow up on. First of all, this must be so vindicating for you – to be able to show what is possible. So, where from here? And secondly, you said this is most ideally a precursor to peace in the region. Even if an outcome that isn’t satisfactory ends up being the result and the main victory of the investigation is what it was able to document, will that be enough to keep you moving forward?
Yes, there are so many aspects to this beyond the final outcome. It would be wonderful if we could get a prosecution or some sort of compensation, or even better, an end to the occupation. But I tell myself that every step along the way, we can get many other outcomes that would be satisfactory and helpful. As you said, that involves keeping a record of the truth. And that can be useful, not just to lawyers and judges, but also to historians down the line, so we’ll know what actually happened – because the truth matters a great deal. That alone is very, very significant. Even if we don’t get to the final outcome of, you know, peace in the Middle East, we will at least have some things we can latch onto. As we’ve said, that includes truth-telling and also just the therapeutic process of truth and reconciliation, that has helped, for example, end apartheid in South Africa. It can be used in this instance as well, it can help victims tell their story and work through the pain and trauma of the past. It’s not just for the victims, but for the perpetrators as well. It is a healing that needs to happen.
Having witness testimonies, some sort of record of the truth is important on its own. Then, those can be used in order to get actual justice and restitution – and more. I’ll worry about that a little bit later (laughs).
We need to keep things manageable too, because when dealing with impossible cases like this, you have to focus on what is practical. Otherwise, you lose complete hope and you might just give up. So, we have to go a step at a time and be extremely patient which I am, thankfully. Then, occasionally, you’re rewarded for your patience. But it’s going to take a lot. I think that even, let’s say, if governments don’t accept the rulings of a body like the ICC, they will probably have to think twice before continuing with any kind of impunity or illegal practices, and that on its own is quite significant. I think that will really change the course of politics in those parts anyways. So that makes me happy too, knowing that something as seemingly insignificant as an international body like the ICC making some ruling and even if it’s not binding, I know it’s going make a difference. I know, because I understand how these mechanisms work. It about those normative pressures and not just ‘enforcement’ proper. It’s about the fact that legitimacy matters in the world we live in and states want to be seen as law abiding, as practicing good governance, and those will impact on their future behaviour. I really do think that. In this particular development, I also see the ICC as not just righting past wrongs but mitigating against future ones. It has many potential uses and so yeah, it’s definitely a good day for international justice.
I find it interesting that you’re ascribing so much power and significance to these normative decisions and the symbolism of it all. Especially in a field like International Relations, where so much of the theory is based in thinking about power and strategy. Has that belief, in these principles, always been so unwavering? Especially having done a Masters and doctorate at Oxford.
Yes, I have felt it tested! And actually I have to switch modes. Like on a personal level, I have to alternate wearing a kind of more theoretical hat and then doing things like this that feel almost irrational and going with my gut on things, going with my intuition on things, and even my idealism, and those two things are often hard to reconcile. And I also realize that having those two sides to myself is what allows me to still do what I do and to do it more effectively, because it grounds me in the messy reality of things. The fact that yes, many international actors will be self-interested and calculating and not necessarily altruistic. Having those understandings is a really nice counter-balance to my eternal optimism and idealism. And that’s actually been really good for me, because if I was only functioning on wishful thinking, I don’t think I could be as effective.
That’s a really important balance. Like you were saying earlier, you want to have that idealism to push you in one direction, but you have to be grounded in a practical understanding.
Oh you have to know how the power politics works. You have to understand that when you’re dealing with actors like NATO and the US and Israel, you need to know what you’re dealing with. And at the same time, they should know who they’re dealing with!
You mentioned the understanding you’ve developed, not only of these institutions but also of the people who actually populate them. I’m interested in that because you are listed as a ‘close friend and confidante’ of Saif al-Islam Gaddafi and you’ve spoken about how you had discussed reform with him. That seems like quite a personal dynamic to me. How do those sorts of personal relationships, not just in the case of Saif al-Islam, but generally the ones you cultivate through your practice, how does that form the approach you take as an advocate and also as a scholar?
When you realize that at the end of the day everything does boil down to personal relationships, it’s a huge realization. Even the people who make up the International Criminal Court are individuals. We may be dealing with concepts like ‘the state’ or international institutions, but we also need to understand how the individual dynamics play into that. For whatever reason, I found myself in the middle of these complex political dynamics and I feel like my personal relationship in the case of Saif al-Islam Gaddafi enabled me to do what I did because otherwise, I’d have no ties to it – no standing to make amicus submissions to the International Criminal Court at the time when I was doing my DPhil at Oxford. It’s funny how that works, but I also understand that I had a part to play in that and for whatever reason I happened to know him. I happened to be the only person who could do such a thing at the time – when NATO was dropping bombs on Libya and when I knew that Saif al-Islam was trying to negotiate with the West to stop that but wasn’t being heard. So what could I do? I could involve these different institutions, since the ICC was already involved in this when the Security Council issued the arrest warrant for him. Then, I also decided to bring in the African Court of Human Rights into the matter.
Looking back, I don’t know how or why I was involved, but I realized that if I didn’t do anything, then politics would have taken over entirely. At least we had some sort of buffer provided by the International Criminal Court and the regional rights system.
In the case of South Korea, I was approached to take on the case to represent the former president who was arbitrarily detained because I had a proven track record. I was able to, in my knowledge of the UN Human Rights Council and the workings of the UN, take her case to the UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention where it was successfully taken up. That was also a complete game changer in that particular instance, where it would have been otherwise completely dominated by politics. But I brought in the law. So, it’s about ending monopolies on influence, on control, and about inserting a buffer to ensure the protection of rights, and at least the proper kind of conduct from the different players. Yes, the realist principles we learn about in IR and politics are still alive and well, but there are things we can do to mitigate against them. It doesn’t have to be completely pre-determined by those factors. Even individuals like myself can come in and change things up.
That must be such a powerful realisation.
You know, at the time, I’m not really thinking about that. But that’s basically what is happening. I’ve internalized these principles and I am able to understand how they can be tweaked and manipulated for the better. There’s still no formula, let me put it that way. There’s no one-size fits all approach. Maybe one day we will get to the point where we will have immediate solutions to these predicaments and political dramas but until that day, I have to experiment and see what works – and when it does work, it’s kind of like an Edison lightbulb moment! It’s like inventing something and discovering what’s possible, when it previously wasn’t. It’s hugely empowering but definitely not for the faint-hearted.
It makes sense that you’d frame yourself as an ‘experimenter’ or an ‘inventor’ because these institutions are so new, so it makes sense that you’d have to look around and see what works.
Yeah, you have to tinker with things and see. Some things might blow up in your face! It’s not easy. It’s very tricky and occasionally dangerous, so you have to watch out. You can take a heavy hit in many ways, both reputationally and just morally, emotionally, it’s not easy. But as I said, if you can taste mini victories it will give you the fuel to keep going, to keep trying, and finding better combinations, how to streamline justice, how to make it work automatically.
Even before you got the taste of those ‘mini victories’ it seems like you have such a deep-rooted sense for human rights principles. Where did this come from for you?
I really couldn’t tell you. I feel like everyone has some sort of a calling and maybe this was mine. Maybe I had to believe so strongly in the possibility of upholding human rights universally and internationally, because I do believe they are universal principles. I think that when we see movements like the Arab Spring or any instance where people are fighting and demanding their freedoms, it is really the same principle at work.
Unfortunately, they are pushed to the point of having to demand them, but I don’t want it to have to take grand scale human rights abuses for people to demand them, you see? I want to prevent all of that. It is unacceptable for people to have to be pushed to the breaking point. Humanity can’t take that anymore, it’s too painful and we can find ways to prevent it – to alleviate that human suffering, that historical suffering – we have the tools now to start doing that.
Do you feel then, that we are in the early days? That we’re ‘starting’ to do that? The way you speak of these institutions doesn’t seem pre-mature, but perhaps a bit immature – in the sense that the institutions and the people are finding their way.
They are finding their way. However, I realise we can’t just assume that they will automatically do that, so they still need to be pushed, to be held to their founding principles. Otherwise, they risk being hijacked by self-interested actors and that is often what leads people to conclude that international law doesn’t work. But it can work. Yes it may not work. Often it may not work. But it can work; we need to remember that. It’s a subtle distinction.
I guess it’s that ‘can work’ that is driving your work. Related to this, there’s a chapter in your book called ‘The Cultural Relativism Trap’ where you argue for the plausibility of universal human rights. In our discussion, you’ve used the term ‘not political’ to describe human rights, why do you think it’s necessary to give that language of universalism and that distinction between politics and human rights?
I think the real issue with human rights is that because it is so intertwined with the history of Western imperialism, it has unfortunately been tainted. That’s a legitimate concern and so, we need to separate those things. When some cultures claim that human rights are part of the Western imperialist project, they are not entirely wrong to say that, given the emancipatory language of ‘liberating’ peoples in other parts of the world that has been used repeatedly throughout history; there’s a lot of trauma associated with that. But, what I am
trying to say is that this doesn’t excuse those particular states from violating human rights on grounds of cultural relativism. They can’t say that because this goes against our culture and values and religion, we don’t have to abide by human rights principles. That is a cop out and I am trying to remind us that these principles are more universal than Western or imperialistic. Yes, they have been instrumentalized by powers for power political ends – but we need to remember their universal basis. The fact that people are demanding them forcefully around the world is proof of that. It’s proof of the universal pull and the fact that everyone wants things like freedom and justice.
And it’s kind of concerning when you see that ‘anti-imperialist’ label being instrumentalized in countries where citizens are calling for their human rights, and those calls are dismissed as a Western imposition.
Exactly. It is a way of shutting down those legitimate protests. But I think that in the end, they will prevail.
We still need to tease out the politics and the instrumentalization of these terms to be able to focus on what’s at the core, the core being humanity – which tends to be concealed by the other political dynamics. More and more now, we see people having a voice, and being able to reclaim that core. To reclaim values of dignity, freedom, and justice. That is what makes me confident that they will prevail; so again, it’s not just based on the wishful thinking I was born with, but on my research into the matter.
I know that even in the most repressive of environments, these movements tend to flourish. Why? Because that is the natural order of things: to want to grow, to want to progress. Anything that comes in the way of that is an aberration, in my mind. I take that as the starting point; I take goodness and flourishment as the natural principle. We see it in nature, we see it everywhere – and we’re taught to forget it. We’re taught to believe that the world is dangerous and bad and that is reinforced by a lot of what we theorize about, even within my discipline. I have definitely had to contend with those conflicting principles and to always be reminded that though there is potentiality for good, there is a dual propensity for good and evil. It could always go in either direction, but we can steer it in a better direction
Do you see that optimism of yours as a form of resistance against these mainstream ways of thinking?
It definitely is, maybe that’s why I suffer from it. It’s not the easiest thing to do. When you see things going wrong, when you see death and devastation, it’s really hard to remain positive. Both on a personal level and also when you see bad things happening in the world, it’s hard to keep things in perspective. It is a personal form of resistance to seeing the world as a bad place, because I know that’s not the full picture – and it’s definitely not what I want for the world.
We also need to recognize that we have a part to play in that story. Things are not automatically going to get better either. So I am glad that my optimism has been tempered a little bit with the hard facts of life, in having experienced that now as an adult by coming really close to those power political dynamics that we talked about earlier. They can make you forget the good, and so it’s a daily practice to have to remember that this doesn’t have to be our fate. We can actually take our fate into our own hands; that is something I work on every day.
Given that it’s so easy to forget and to lose that optimism, what are the things that remind you of it? Or that bring it back into your life?
When I am reminded that my years of work preparing for this ICC case, for instance, actually paid off. When I was told that this would never happen, that this would be impossible. It is that sort of validation that I get for working tirelessly towards a seemingly impossible goal that keeps me going. Sometimes when I don’t see any rewards, I keep going because I know from my past experience that the reward is waiting; it’s around the corner. Also, I remember that it’s not just about me, that I pay a very small price to work for something that is entirely worth it.
Would you then describe yourself as a reformist? Because I feel like much of what you’ve said has to do with taking institutions as they are, working within them, and trying to change them. Do you think that’s where the promise is for institutionalizing human rights?
I do think that change can always come from within and not from the outside. I know there’s a role for protest and revolution (oftentimes that’s when things are really bad, that they need to be completely overhauled from the outside) but I see my own role as being someone that wants to change things from within. To cooperate and to encourage others, governments, international institutions, to be the best versions of themselves. My intention really is not to name and shame and to fight against, but to support. And that involves working with the existing power players.
Is the impetus to do that made stronger by the fact that these are just people to you at this point? Compared when you were first working at the NGO and all of this was more distant.
That is a good point, they are just people. But these are people that tend to be constrained by other political factors, so I’m also aware of that and I have compassion for that. It’s recognising that maybe their hands are tied too, asking: how can I encourage them to try a little bit harder to resist those forces that would take them away from their mandate? I want to push them to only do what’s within their mandate; I am not asking for that much! It’s just like: “Live up to your charter”, “Live up to the Rome Statute’ – just do that much and then we can worry about the rest later.
It helps that it’s there – you’re not coming up with it yourself.
It’s in writing, exactly!
In your book, you argue that the progress towards human rights is not linear, that reversals in human rights have the potential to catalyze progressive movements where that’s necessary – even if that takes a very long time. Where, for you, was this argument born from? How did you decide this is what you wanted to write on, and were there particular historical instances that gave you the conviction to go ahead with your thesis?
It’s funny you ask that question because I never really thought about how I came upon that. Obviously it was validated by my research but I wouldn’t say it was my starting point. It wasn’t like a hypothesis I wanted to test. It was more like an interesting insight that I got from having looked at different cases which had a common theme: Egypt, Iran, and the Emirates. I also wanted to find an academic basis for understanding my optimism, because I couldn’t explain to people how or why I believed that things are moving in a good direction at a time when everything looked so bad and hopeless. I could not explain why I thought that, and this was even predating the Arab Spring. I felt that things were changing and I felt it in my gut and I wanted to have a real scholarly basis on which to base that intuition. The kind of paradoxical thinking that I present is not common within any discipline, really. If we think things are going backwards, they’re going backwards; we don’t understand the concept of things going backwards but also progressing simultaneously. So, I have to challenge the orthodoxy within my own field of International Relations– which is not only West-centric, but very linear in its thinking. That helped me to fall back on my inner wisdom, supported by empirics.
Going back to the notion of being taken seriously. If I am just out there in the world fighting for justice without anything to base that on, I probably will be tossed aside. I feel more confident now in my endeavours knowing that there is some validity to this intuition and that we can’t just rely on our eyes – we can’t just look at the protracted Arab-Israeli conflict and say it is fundamentally intractable, just because it looks that way. That is a very simplistic reading of the situation. I’m calling for a more complex and a more multi-dimensional reading, and I think that’s how I’ve been able to integrate the different elements that we’ve talked about – of optimism and scholarly rigour.
These simplistic views that exist on situations like Israel-Palestine and our understanding of it, are people unwilling to accept the complexity or do they just not realize it? In your experience, which has it been?
It is a little bit of both. I would say that our media is responsible for oversimplifying and not providing context to any political dilemma that we have; it’s about painting things in black and white terms rather than really understanding the root. Sometimes we don’t want to talk about the uncomfortable truths of for instance, how the Arab-Israeli conflict came about, of how we are in the state that we’re in, how 9-11 and the War on Terror cannot be seen in a vacuum, they have to be unpacked. It’s a painful task to us to sometimes recognize our own complicity in certain things. I would say that resistance to this complexity comes more from the political actors, because it can be more politically expedient and convenient to over-simplify these things, and to control the narrative. I think the real task, however, is to unpack; to unpack those narratives and to also occasionally re-write them. Re-write them not in the sense of re-writing history, but about telling the truth really, of showing the full picture.
In my eyes, the role of academics sometimes seems to be to unpack those complexities. In part, just because, you have time; the media wants to get a story out there. Do you feel like that’s something your job allows you to do?
It does. Except, I think even within academia, there are limits to how you can unpack things and also the expectation of objectivity might limit you. Objectivity is a virtue in a sense, but not when we sacrifice our humanity and compassion. There’s a balance that we need to maintain at all times and I think that if we’re theorizing for the sake of theorizing, and are forgetting why we’re theorizing, that can be problematic. Ilike to keep my work as a practitioner separated from the work I do as an academic, in teaching and researching. But ultimately they do inform each other and strengthen each other.
I think that question of objectivity is so relevant because in a field like politics, it’s so often about peoples’ lives. It can be hard to maintain a working understanding of what it means to be ‘objective’.
I am able to remain unemotional and also detached. When I do my academic work, I am able to take off my activist hat and I think that’s an important skill to have, because I’m doing that to not allow emotions to also cloud my judgement. Even in my work as a practitioner I don’t let my personal emotions colour my judgement, but I let my sense of humanity and solidarity with my fellow humans lead me. So it’s still a very human endeavour, it’s not completely emotionless.
In your book, you talk about the ‘bold and defiant’ overseas activism that takes place and in bringing attention to historic and ongoing atrocities in places where domestic movements are really stifled. How do you view the efficacy of this relationship between diaspora movements – and just generally, people on the ‘outside’ – trying to change things for people on the ‘inside’?
Well, increasingly in our interconnected globalised world, the distinction between outside and inside is becoming blurred. While this doesn’t mean that we’re moving towards a post-Westphalian order, I would say that the outside-inside distinction is not as stark anymore. Historically we might see things in terms of East and West, but now it’s sort of just peer-to-peer – about citizens and the transnational forms of solidarity that can emerge, among people who have the means and ability to mobilise on the outside when those on the inside don’t. That can be a beautiful thing. And as long as it’s done with good intentions and is working towards some sort of a common cause, it can be very effective.
There is occasionally pushback, because there is this perception that outsiders are imposing certain things. But if it’s done with a spirit of solidarity and support, then it can be really effective. Especially in cases where we have closed societies where individuals on the inside don’t have any way of expressing or have limited means of mobilization, that’s where it can be really helpful. Transnational activist networks and even what I do, I consider that as in solidarity with others who have limited recourse to justice.
This idea of ‘good intentions’ and solidarity – how far do you think it goes? Until when can we attribute things to good intentions and at what point do we need to start being critical of them?
That’s why it needs to be done in partnership; it always has to be done with full respect and in full partnership with local actors. In the case of the ICC initiative that I’m currently working on, it’s in conjunction with the Palestinian delegation and also victims. It’s never coming from a place of superiority. Let’s just say that I want to be a vehicle for expression and for help, you know? Recognising that local actors may not have the means I do means recognising that I have a duty to do more, if I can.
Last question: for anyone who is trying to make a career out of advocacy, whether it’s through academia or practice, what advice would you give them?
First of all, to see the connection between their degree and their research – and to leverage their academic work for their advocacy work. To not see them as separate; those can be stepping-stones and real tools that they can use as peace warriors, which is why there is such as synergy between academia and work as a practitioner and work as an advocate. They are not incompatible. Even though there may not be any pre-prescribed paths for doing that, you have to trust that what you’re doing now is an investment towards your future, towards being able to make your impact in the world. It’s not that you have to change career paths or change course entirely, but to layer real-world experience with the kind of academic know-how to be more effective in the world. You don’t have to abandon your studies to save the world. You have to pursue your studies so that you can do your part in the world.