Last week the Honduran government inaugurated a truth commission to investigate the June 2009 coup. The commission will “document human rights abuses related to the coup, address grievances where they are found and consider reforms to prevent similar incidents from happening again.” Human rights groups have, however, criticized the commission. Committee for the Families of the Detained and Disappeared of Honduras (COFADEH) states, “the only purpose of the Lobo commission is to support the Honduran regime’s continued efforts to whitewash those responsible for the coup and its violent aftermath.” Since last year’s coup, a powerful nonviolent resistance movement has emerged. Women make up the majority of the movement and play a critical leadership role. The resistance is united not just by opposition to the regime but also a positive vision of a new Honduras, characterized by this slogan: “Por un constituyente no excluyente” (For a constitutional convention that doesn’t exclude). The regime has responded with brutal repression. As of last August, women’s groups documented 249 cases of violations of women’s human rights, including beatings, sexual assault and gang rapes by police. To date, COFADEH has registered 47 assassinations of anti-coup activists. On May 10, the U.N. Human Rights Council urged protection for Honduran journalists after seven were killed in the past six weeks. The truth commission has no mandate to examine these current human rights violations.

It has been an interesting two weeks, to say the least, since Arizona governor Jan Brewer signed SB1070 into law, a law which effectively makes the failure to carry immigration documents a crime and gives police broad power in detaining anyone who is “reasonably suspected” of being an “illegal immigrant.” I do not aim to provide a perspective that has not already been articulated by former Nobel peace prize winners or millions of recent immigrants whose lives will be directly impacted by such legislation. However, I would like to highlight Arizona’s recent ban of ethnic studies, which underscores what is really at the heart of Arizona’s immigration law: legalized xenophobia, targeted not at the immigration system, but at human beings of a different color, origin, and linguistic heritage than those who have the power to identify themselves as “real Americans.” This is why, on May 1st, also recognized as International Workers’ Day, hundreds of thousands of people around the country rallied for immigration reform that respects human dignity. In Washington DC, the four students who marched 1,500 miles from Miami along the Trail of Dreams were joined by thousands in their rally at the White House; in Los Angeles, more than 60,000 marched; in Atlanta, more than 5,000.

Of course, media coverage and public discourse on this issue end with the person who claims: “It’s simple. Those people are illegal.”

As a person of conscience, however, I can’t help but ask myself: Looking back in history, who gets to decide who is us or them? Who writes the laws? What happens when a certain group of people is dehumanized and made into the scapegoat, the root cause of all of the society’s problems? How would an honest, and thus radical, reading of human rights principles interpret the concept of ‘illegal people’?  Not surprisingly, the only source I am able to find that seems to make some sense of this current immigration ‘debate’ is in the form of brilliant satire:

This month’s issue of Smithsonian magazine highlights the systematic demolition of the city of Kashgar in East Turkestan, also known as the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region of China. Kashgar is a 1,000 year old city that is home to the Uyghur people. Uyghurs are ethnically and culturally a Turkic people who practice a moderate form of Sufi Islam. Heavy-handed repression by the Chinese government has created a dire human rights situation in East Turkestan that includes arbitrary detention, torture, and execution; severe discrimination in the areas of healthcare and employment; religious repression; forced abortion; the removal of Uyghur as a language in schools; and the forcible transfer of young Uyghur women and men to eastern China at the same as government policies bring millions of Chinese migrants to East Turkestan. The systematic demolition of Kashgar is considered yet another sinister attempt “to deprive the Uyghur of their main symbol of cultural identity.” Read this speech by Rebiya Kadeer to learn what “the Mother of the Uyghur Nation” had to say after deadly demonstrations killed hundreds of Uyghur in July 2009.

Photo credit: Associated Press Uyghur women protest

Last week, the United Nations released its first report on “The State of the World’s Indigenous Peoples.” The report finds significant disparities in basic human rights and development standards for indigenous peoples as compared to non-indigenous populations. For instance, in terms of economic rights in the United States, more than twice the percentage of Native Americans and Alaska Natives were found to live below the poverty line as compared to the total U.S. population. And women’s rights standards are even more disconcerting: Native American women are 2.5 times more likely to be raped or experience sexual violence than other women in the United States. Human rights organizations such as Amnesty International are working to pass several bills in Congress this upcoming year to address these severe and pervasive human rights disparities. Of course, Native American communities have long been aware of these injustices, and groups such as the Alaska Native Justice Center and the Native American Rights Fund have worked to promote and defend Native American human rights.

While many of us are enjoying the Columbus Day holiday, it is perhaps appropriate to use such free time to consider the differing perspectives of what this day signifies both to the history of the United States and the world. Consider this passage from Christopher Columbus’s log book: “[The natives] do not bear arms, and do not know them, for I showed them a sword, they took it by the edge and cut themselves out of ignorance…They would make fine servants… With fifty men we could subjugate them all and make them do whatever we want.” While Columbus’s ‘discovery’ marked the beginning of contact between Europe and the Americas, it also signified the foundations of imperialism that spawned the global slave trade and the genocide (the intent to destroy, in whole or in part, any national, ethnic, racial, or religious group as such) of indigenous peoples in the Americas that has continued for more than 500 years. In Costa Rica, October 12th is celebrated as Día de las Culturas (Day of the Cultures). In Venezuela, it is recognized as Día de la Resistencia Indígena (Day of Indigenous Resistance). For a man who never set foot on what is now U.S. soil, what is at stake in the United States maintaining a day of honor for Christopher Columbus? Whose history does this holiday represent?

Here is a (rather long) excerpt from the first chapter of Howard Zinn’s “A People’s History of the United States” entitled Columbus, The Indians, and Human Progress. A Youtube video entitled “Reconsider Columbus Day” has also been circulating in the human rights/indigenous justice blogosphere.