#firstworldproblems? More like #globalproblems

Photograph: Tony Webster via Flickr

It’s winter right now in the UK and everyone’s a bit chilly. It’s really annoying, actually, because one minute we’re turning up the central heating and donning our dressing gowns, and the next we’re opening the windows, gasping for fresh air, because we’ve overheated the house. Sigh. It’s so difficult to heat our homes to the right level, especially when the insulation in our walls is already doing such a good job, and we still want to watch television and switch on our lamps to make the living room look nice and Christmassy. All that electricity amounts to quite a bit of heat, you know? Eventually we just leave the heating on and get the electric fans out, and the temperature evens out nicely.

I mean, really. Never mind the fact that nearly 1.3 billion people don’t have access to electricity in the world. The other day we had a power cut for a whole hour. I missed my favourite TV show, and my microwave popcorn never progressed to anything more than rock-hard kernels because the electricity cut off ten seconds into the heating time. I had to chuck them away and grab a bag of ready-made popcorn instead. #firstworldproblems, am I right?

Well, no. Not really. The #firstworldproblems concept is a bit of an issue, actually. It encourages the idea that while us westerners are civilised, sophisticated creatures, juggling our cash-stuffed wallets and our controversial red Starbucks coffee cups while trying to fish out the keys to our London apartments, the rest of the world is living in the dark ages. Posts such as “my phone ran out of battery with an hour left of this lecture to go #fml #firstworldproblems” seems to suggest that smartphones and their frustrating habit of running low on juice at the most inconvenient of times, are only ever possessed by the citizens of Paris, London, New York and the like. That’s most likely the reason for some of the hostility against Syrian refugees over the past months. If I had a pound for every ‘But they have smartphones! They can’t be suffering that badly!’ comment I’ve heard since this summer, I could transport people to Syria with their smartphones and see if they stick with their ignorant comments after that.

The main issue with #firstworldproblems, then, while it’s founded in goodwill and an attempt to highlight the inequalities of the world, is that it tends to further the ‘us versus them’ narrative already too prevalent in society. It creates such a strong picture of developing countries as ‘alien’ that when we see photographs of refugees using smartphones, we’re outraged that they’re real people. The comment section of papers such as the Daily Mail draw in the particularly ignorant: ‘V signs, sunglasses and selfie sticks?! For persecuted, terrified refugees they’ve really mastered the art of looking cool. Wonder if they’ll be posting those pics on Facebook later?!’ It’s as if those from the Middle East aren’t allowed to look or act like our young people. Never mind that social media sites like Facebook are crucial for those contacting family back home: the West has done such a good job at the ‘us vs. them’ narrative that we just can’t imagine a group of non-Western youths owning a pair of jeans, let alone a smartphone with internet access.

I use the Middle East as an example because of the coverage it has recently received, but the argument made here is just as resonant for sub-Saharan Africa, for example, or any other part of the developing world. We should never, of course, ignore the reality that in that area of the world, for example, one person in four is undernourished; or that two thirds of the population of Asia go hungry on a regular basis. We should simply remember that while these really, really important issues exist, we should not be treating citizens of developing countries as ‘others’. We’re all humans, at the end of the day. At the same time as one person tweets a picture of their Starbucks cup lying on the floor in a pool of coffee with the hashtag #firstworldproblems, another person in Kenya spills their tea in a Java café and sighs, frustrated. While a businessman on a conference in London jokes about ‘white people problems’ with a raised eyebrow to the receptionist when he can’t connect to his hotel’s WiFi, the CEO of a company in Iraq resists punching her laptop screen for the same reason. #firstworldproblems are not confined to the ‘First World’, and nor does a ‘First World’ exist.

Originally published on The Global Panorama.

Ravages of war: when the West intervened – Iraq

Image by openDemocracy via Flickr

It seems that no one paused to think about what would happen after the death of Saddam Hussein. The Iraqi leader was the United States’ initial reason for invading the country in 2003, and western media did much to emphasise his wicked reputation. But the void left after a government suffers a sudden death was never going to be resolved quietly. Violence and disorder following the intervention of the west comes as no surprise to anyone familiar with recent world history. Take Palestine, for example, whose troubles were escalated after British colonisation. Turn also to Syria, where the actions of the west against the government have caused horrific violence on both sides of the conflict. Can western countries make claim to peacemaking when their history of intervention is littered with violence? The events of Iraq since 2003 suggest not.

The United States’ reasons for invading Iraq were never selfless. Saddam Hussein was deemed an immediate threat to US security, and the validity of the claim that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction is questionable. The invasion was fuelled by a hatred incited by the events of 9/11. One only has to look at the vast increase in Muslim hate crimes across the US to recognise that this was an issue not addressed by the American government before they attacked.

Unfortunately, the actions of an extremist minority, and the resulting intolerance by the west, took its toll on the people of Iraq. A website tracking the public record of violent deaths in the country since the 2003 invasion reasons the death toll to be at 224,000. Civilians died of bombing campaigns as much as militants did, and many more were permanently disabled or otherwise wounded. The bombs weren’t just from the west, either: the power vacuum left by the removal of Saddam Hussein’s government led to heavy sectarian violence between Shias and Sunnis in a struggle for power that has lasted up to the present day. But civilians were also the target of other attacks, some direct and others incidental, that reached beyond the immediate impact of a bomb and continue to haunt Iraq today.

Western war crimes were made possible by the dehumanisation of Iraqi people. One such example of this is the gang-rape of fourteen year-old Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi and the murder of her and her family in an Iraqi village to the west of Al-Mahmudiyah. One of the five US soldiers convicted of the crime later confessed that he ‘didn’t think of Iraqis as humans’. Britain, too, has been held to scrutiny after increasing accusations of war crimes in the country during the occupation. The men who raped, tortured and murdered Iraqi people are the same men who were celebrated at home for their heroism. Being a soldier does not make someone a hero, and nowhere is this clearer than in the ever-mounting evidence against western soldiers in Iraq. Nevertheless, the impact of the Iraq War on US and British soldiers is well-known. Recovery centres and dedicated charities provide help for those returning from Iraq and other countries with psychological and physical wounds. Awareness of ex-soldier suicide rates and the increase in violent behaviour amongst men who served in the war is on the increase. Help is available for those suffering from PTSD and physical disabilities.

But what of the people of Iraq? For the remaining family of Abeer Qassim Hamza al-Janabi and others like them who suffered directly at the hands of western soldiers, the psychological scars left behind will not heal. But western intervention affected Iraq as a whole as well as those individuals. Since the 2003 invasion, more than four million Iraqis have been displaced, many of them families. According to the Ministry of Labor and Social Affairs, around 4.5 million children have become orphans, 70% of them since western intervention started. Iraq’s healthcare structure has been torn apart, and half of Iraqi doctors have left the country. All of these factors have a serious impact on the mental as well as physical wellbeing of those affected. Combined, they create a health crisis that is being seriously under-reported – while the fate of western soldiers continues to take priority.

If people are not shocked by the plight of the Iraqi people as a whole, they must at least consider the west’s impact on the children of Iraq. A report by Joanne Baker in 2013 detailed the suffering of Iraq’s youngsters in statistics. Of the four million people displaced since 2003, for example, up to two million were children. Around 20% of these children were reported missing by their families since 2003, amounting to around 93,500 children. Moreover, many of those displaced are suffering further from malnutrition, lack of shelter, and lack of basic healthcare and education. Around 18% of people over the age of nine are illiterate. Because of poor nutrition and water quality, only one in five children will reach their fifth birthday. A report by the World Health Organisation found that 70% of Iraqi children were suffering from trauma-related symptoms. It is worth considering, too, that these figures are from two years ago, and one year before the re-entry of western forces into Iraq.

This report does not begin to cover the entirety of the west’s impact on Iraq. The long-term economic consequences of the war are still developing, and the growing crisis in Syria continues to worsen the situation of Iraqi people. With western intervention restarting in 2014, three years after the withdrawal of troops, the world is beginning to see other consequences that will engulf the Middle East before moving beyond its borders. One such consequence, of course, is ISIS, a product of American intervention that will further the destruction of Iraq and the Middle East for the foreseeable future. We cannot know the fate of Iraq if the west had not intervened, but it can be said with certainty that many of the country’s current problems may have been lessened, or might not have existed at all.

Originally published on The Global Panorama.

Europe’s migration crisis: the importance of foreign aid

Image via Wikimedia Commons

While the migration crisis divides mainstream media and European citizens alike, a new narrative is beginning to emerge. It is becoming increasingly clear that the current climate of chaos and fear is severely unproductive that instead of trying to tackle the crisis on the front lines, more needs to be done in humanitarian and diplomatic terms to ensure that such disasters are avoided in the future.

This is more than crisis management. National newspapers and broadcasting stations in Britain alone are beginning to wake up to the reality of the situation: that the migrants are humans, often vulnerable humans, escaping lives in countries that the Western world only gets glimpses of in the media. Insensitive labels assigned to the migrants such as the British Prime Minister David Cameron describing those crossing from Calais as a ‘swarm’ are being challenged by a growing movement to embrace the humanity of those in Calais and in the Mediterranean. It is, it seems, time to find another route to securing a stable future for those journeying from abroad.

This route can only be found through foreign aid and international diplomacy, which in turn, means the abandonment of military-like defensive stances. While the British government has been criticised by the public for its increasing foreign aid budget, thus demonstrating the anti-migrant, often xenophobic sentiment of much of the nation, the rest of the EU has been urged to meet and exceed Britain’s commitments. The UK International Development Secretary, Justine Greening, told The Guardian in May that the answer to the migration crisis is to tackle the ‘root causes’ of why people are moving in the first place. The consequences of committing to more foreign aid, and thus improving the lives of people in developing and war-torn countries, are far worse for the human traffickers sending migrants across the Mediterranean than they are to the European countries who would otherwise receive them.

Hand in hand with a fairer foreign aid policy across Europe is a diplomatic approach to international relations. Providing military support to countries already in the throes of war only heightens the plight of civilians in those nations. Equally, of course, avoiding intervention altogether gives the impression of an aloof, uncaring government with a disregard for human life beyond their own country’s borders. A stronger, more visible support system made up of Western nations—those who have, historically, intervened to both advantageous and detrimental effect—may do more to help nations struggling with the poverty of their own people than violence or indifference ever could.

Some people, of course, will always be anti-immigration, and others see no issue with welcoming migrants to some of the wealthiest nations on Earth. But to strike an equal balance between these extremes—to provide care and support for those in need whilst taking into consideration the situation in one’s own country—foreign aid and international diplomacy, not brutal border control and negligent naval rescue teams, are sorely needed from countries all over Europe.

Originally posted on The Global Panorama.

ISIS: a movement spread through social media

Image sourced from Wikipedia.

The videos of U.S. journalist James Foley’s alleged execution by ISIS fighters went viral in August. Followed by the beheadings of Steven Sotloff and David Haines, ISIS have furthered the militant Islamist ideology of leaders like Osama bin Laden to the point where al-Qaeda have cut all ties with the group due to their brutality. ISIS’s threat stems not least from the use of an apparently British militant carrying out the executions, which begs the question: if they have the power and ability to reach the ‘desperate and disaffected youth’, as quoted by The Guardian, just how dangerous are they to the reputation of Islam, and to the safety of the world?

ISIS has a decade-long history of activity spanning Iraq, Syria and Turkey, but it is their recent actions that have brought the group to the attention of our media. They have advanced beyond suicide and car bombings to focus specifically on targeting the U.S. and Britain, reaching a more personal means of attack by targeting individuals, and therefore their families and communities. Their use of the internet in perpetrating these crimes demonstrates their understanding of its power: they know that people are, by nature, strangely fascinated by the violent and macabre, and therefore their disturbing videos will circulate swiftly. And even when people refuse to watch the videos – by principal, or because they are affected by the nature of the murders – they still make the headlines of world media. ISIS has proved quite clearly that it can make an impact on the world extremely quickly.

By placing a British figure at the forefront of their videos, ISIS also demonstrate the ease with which they can ‘radicalise’ Westerners. This decision has more purpose than to shock viewers: it means we can no longer easily dehumanise perpetrators of terrorist acts and dismiss them as ‘others’. We have to recognise that young people from our own countries are capable of the acts many cultures deem ‘barbaric’ – and with this, we must question why young people are joining ISIS in the first place.

By using social media to reach out to more people than has previously been possible, ISIS can use recruitment techniques reminiscent of military campaigns through time – the depiction of an idealised Jihadist to which future fighters should aspire, coupled with promises of glory, money and women – to communicate their ideology to young Muslims who may sympathise with their cause. They draw upon instances of western or Christian crimes against Muslims that are rarely or never discussed in our media, and remind recruits of the often tendentious depiction of Islamic militants in comparison to violent groups of other religions and cultures. By reversing the language often used by our media, ISIS has effectively created an opportunity for young Muslims to break away from western values and fight for a cause not previously open to them. And their propaganda is effective – over 500 British Muslims have travelled overseas to join ISIS in the last year, and 250 more have returned as converted Jihadists.

ISIS’s claim to be ‘an Islamic army accepted by a large number of Muslims worldwide’ is damaging enough to the reputation of the Islamic faith. Whilst ISIS justifies its actions with a retaliatory argument, it has encountered criticism from Islamic groups around the world. A recent letter to David Cameron, signed by representatives of the Islamic Society of Britain and the Association of Muslim Lawyers, asserted that ‘[ISIS] is neither Islamic, nor is it a state. The group has no standing with faithful Muslims’.The issue is that years of poor media coverage and poor education around religious issues have led to a widespread ignorance amongst the public as to the difference between the peaceful teachings of Islam and the extremist views of groups such as ISIS. Efforts to solve this problem are wasted when politicians and the media continue to use language that implies that ISIS has any ties with mainstream Islamic values, such as their persistent referring to ISIS as ‘Islamic State’, which somewhat reinforces ISIS’s claim to be a true ‘Islamic army’.

Whilst the west works to fight ISIS and its collaborators, efforts should be made in our own communities to prevent ISIS from further threatening the reputation of Islam, and to dissuade young Muslims from joining the group. We should work to counter the claims of ISIS as a ‘widely-accepted’ Islamic army by educating people about the difference between Islam’s teachings and extremists’ actions. ISIS’s online presence should be challenged by anti-ISIS efforts on our part – although the U.S. has recently attempted this with its ‘Think Again, Turn Away’ mock ISIS recruitment video. A movement that crosses the boundaries of its predecessors, occupying social media as well as territorial space, needs more than gunfire and airstrikes to defeat it. 

Originally published on Palatinate Online.