Category Archives: Op-Ed

An Op-Ed opinion piece.

Closeted in the Congo

As a Catholic fundamentalist nation, the Democratic Republic of Congo is very conservative, politically speaking. Having grown up a quiet liberal in an overwhelmingly conservative town, I’m pretty good at holding my tongue when I disagree politically with my friends. When I traveled to the Congo the summer before my sophomore year at Wellesley, this skill once again became useful. I wasn’t about to reveal to my new Congolese friends that I’m gay, but even admitting my support of queer rights earned me stricken responses like, “I’ll pray for you,” and “you’ll go to hell.” Nevertheless, I’d have felt disloyal to my values if I’d refrained entirely from advocating for my beliefs, so I found myself on the losing end of many political debates, struggling to stay afloat with my clumsy French. Try as we might, they could not fathom my views, and I could not fathom theirs.

Queerness has been adamantly discouraged in the Congo politically, socially, and historically. Aggressive heteronormativity is even built into the Congolese Constitution—article 40 states that “all individuals have the right to marry a person of their choice of the opposite sex.” It’s nice to let people choose who they marry, I can appreciate that—but true choice doesn’t include stingy stipulations or impose limitations. Biased though I may be, to me sex is sex, love is love, and bodies are bodies. Why criminalize queer existence?

On top of that, anti-LGBTQ* activists have pushed for even more stringent limitations on sexual conduct in the Congo, pressing to penalize homosexuality and zoophilia (because they’re basically the same thing, right?). Proposed bills have included punishments like a fine of 200,000 Congolese francs or up to five years in jail for these “counter-nature acts.” The most recent bill, spearheaded by Steve Mbikayi, a member of parliament, hopes to render both homosexual acts and transgenderism entirely illegal. A recent article published by Think Africa Press explains the details of Mbikayi’s proposed bill: “The proposed penalty for engaging in a homosexual act is 3 to 5 years in prison and a fine of 1 million Congolese francs; while a transgender person would face the same fine and a jail sentence of 3 to 12 years.” What is it that makes queerness such a grave criminal offense?

Mbikayi has an answer to that question: “In relation to our culture,” he says, “homosexuality is an ‘anti-value’ that comes from abroad.” His logic isn’t arbitrary—37 African countries already have sanctions in place concretely banning homosexuality and other queer lifestyles, legislating against the LGBTQ* acceptance supported abroad in order to preserve the religious righteousness of their nations. But, if you ask me, as much as everyone is entitled to their own moral values, no one is entitled to legislate the moral values—or “anti-values”—of others. That’s the central flaw in Mbikayi’s logic: his definition of Congolese culture is all too narrow and not entirely Congolese. Homosexuality is seen as an “anti-value” in the Congo primarily as a result of colonization. With Belgium’s aggressive foray into the Congo in the 1870s came the ideological imposition of Catholicism; today, most Congolese are Catholic fundamentalists and, therefore, not so LGBTQ* friendly.

However, homosexuality is not an inherent “anti-value” according to Congolese tradition. An article on gay life in the Congo relates that “in Africa, [homosexuality] has often been associated with magic and mystical practices.” As reported by a traveler in Kasai, a district in the center of the Congo, in 1977, those on the hunt for diamonds would often visit small groups of homosexuals, as it was purported to bring good luck. So, really, homosexuality is not an anti-value in relation to Congolese culture at all; this borrowed homophobia is, rather, an anti-value to colonialist Belgian culture circa 1870.

Many times since my trip, I have considered the double-edged implications of my silence. I worried that it would be disrespectful to argue with the dominant attitudes of modern Congolese culture, but I also didn’t want to partake in the fearful silencing of queer people in the Congo. In the end, I chose to stay neutral, smiling, silent, not wanting to take on a battle that wasn’t mine to fight. All I can do is support the Congolese LGBTQ* activists already fighting for justice in the Congo. Maybe they’ll begin to win over the Congolese population, and maybe queer Congolese will find a more welcoming home in their own nation. Maybe Mbikayi’s bill won’t pass.

The Last One in Line

The first time I saw a Lega Nord (“Northern League”) advertisement was in an Italian seminar during my junior year of college. My mother, a southern Italian woman, rarely discusses the politics of her homeland, so I wasn’t very familiar with the right-wing party. Lega Nord is a small northern party whose support has fluctuated since its conception in the 1990s. I later learned that its platform was meant to promote more regional autonomy among Italy’s states. Some even demanded that Northern Italy secede from the rest of the country.

This ideology wasn’t reflected in the actual advertisement, which was literally a line of racist caricatures standing in front of a closed door. The first was an East Asian man with buck teeth. The next was a weary Roma woman (the politically correct term for what many know as gypsies) with a kerchief on her head. She is followed by an African man with massive lips dressed in a purple tunic. Finally, a bearded Arab man dressed in white carrying a curved sword is at the end, and he pushes an elderly white Italian man behind him. The headline above their heads reads, “Indovina chi è l’ultimo? [Guess who’s the last one?]”

It’s a ridiculous ad, one that is clearly playing on the fear of foreigners taking jobs, and the racism within it was so over the top that a viewer could easily wonder if it was fake (it wasn’t). That ad and the mentality surrounding it truly captures Italians’ peculiar views on race. Italians are very capable of being racist, just like anybody else. But their brand of racism is inextricably tied up with nationality and fear of a changing Italy.

Part of the reason that the ad was so surprising to me was the fact that the experience my father had in Italy was so different. My dad, who is a black American, described Italy as the first place where he felt comfortable in his own skin. It was the first place where he wasn’t followed around in stores, and he still recounts the story of an old woman who left him alone in her shop. He ends with, “I just couldn’t believe it. That had never happened to me before.”

However, this is because it doesn’t have to do with blackness, or at least not entirely. Italians don’t have the same racial history as Americans. They don’t have the same hang-ups or stereotypes because their history evolved differently. Italians don’t follow black people around stores because they never learned to be wary of black people.

That doesn’t mean that they aren’t suspicion of Africans though, and that is the key distinction. For Italians, black people from the States are cool because they’re American. If you examine the Lega Nord advertisement, the point isn’t that the person is black, even though the artist took great care to capitalize on certain African features to make a point. The viewer is meant to look at the tunic and realize that he is African and hate him for the fact that he is African, not because he is black. In other words, if a shopkeeper is following around a black person in a store, it’s not because he’s black, but because he’s African and therefore “foreign.”

Many Italians view foreigners with a great deal of suspicion, and a lot of this fear has to do with cultural and lifestyle changes due to modernization. Before the 60s, Italians had been more divided by region because fewer people had cars and reliable transportation to travel. More women stayed at home as housewives while men went out to work, and the country was largely divided along the lines of Catholics and communists. In short, Italian society had distinct divisions in place that Italians could easily adhere to. But after the 1960s, more Italians had cars, women gained more independence and education, regional dialects began to die out, and the country imported much of its culture from the States. As regionalism gave way to nationalism, Italy started to look an awful lot like the U.S. and eventually the question arose of what exactly it meant to be Italian.

Naturally, the problem with that question is that it’s nearly impossible to answer. On the other hand, immigrants provide an easy answer of what an Italian is not simply due to their place of birth. The wild caricatures that Italians associate with immigrants serve as convenient examples of what it means to not be Italian. An Italian doesn’t wear tunics. An Italian isn’t black. An Italian doesn’t wear turbans. Certain features are a convenient way to decide what an Italian is not, and the conclusion that many Italians have come to is that an Italian is is white and Catholic.

That definition is narrow-minded and harmful for the future of Italy. In order for this issue to be addressed, Italians need to start focusing on the more complicated question of what an Italian is in the modern era. Immigrants to Italy have shown us that Italians can be Muslim, can be black, can be Asian. But it’s time for Italians to recognize this new diversity and start to focus on what it actually means to be Italian. History has shown us that Italians can be poetic, revolutionary, ambitious, and deeply patriotic. There’s a rich and beautiful history to be written once the country lets new Italians become a part of it.

Let’s Learn to Argue

What would you say to someone with whom you disagree?

Here is what Chinese netizens said:

“Shameless rat!”

“Shut your dirty mouth!”

“You are no expert on this. You’re only a dumbass!”

“Your talk is as disgusting as your looks!”

“Go to hell!”

“Bullshit!”

“You think you are an expert? F*** all you experts!”

Why they became so angry is a long story.

A month ago, the former Chinese TV reporter Chai Jing released Under the Dome, an independent documentary on the inconvenient truth of China’s devastating pollution. The documentary went viral on the Internet and sparked heated conversations about environmental protection across the country.

A response by Wan Zhanxiang to Chai’s documentary also went viral. Wan is a senior engineer and administrator of China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC), a state-owned enterprise that the documentary identifies as one of the major contributors to the pollution. Wan attempts to refute many of Chai’s arguments. He claims that low-quality fuel produced by CNPC isn’t a major cause of pollution and that, without CNPC’s monopoly of the oil market, the quality of fuel will only drop. He concludes that “there aren’t many good points” in the documentary, perhaps because Chai “does not have enough brain power, or she doesn’t have enough knowledge or insights”.

Wan’s article was met with angry comments from Chinese Internet users who have rallied to Chai’s defense. Only one or two comments, out of the hundreds, actually use statistics or pertinent arguments to refute Wan’s points. Even on the censored websites that have probably deleted the most extreme comments, most pages are filled with angry squawks.

Whether or not Wan’s arguments make sense is a separate issue, but even if his arguments are ridiculous, irrational personal attacks are an even more ridiculous means of response. Chinese netizens should steer away from blind mob attacks and learn to think critically and argue in a rational way.

There are good reasons for being angry about Wan’s criticism of the documentary. Although he states that the article represents only his personal opinion, it is quite obvious that he is the unofficial mouthpiece of CNPC and the government, since his article was immediately circulated by all major news outlets. Naturally, his opinion reflects a strong bias, and with the powerful institutions as his backstage supporter, Wan sounds arrogant throughout the article by constantly using !! and ?? and calling Chai immature, which irritated a large number of her fans. To add fuel to the fire, the government decided to take down the documentary from the Internet. Many see this act as a reflection of the government’s reluctance to take serious measures against pollution and one more attempt to deprive the public of their right to information. And here came Wan saying that it is just a mediocre documentary without much value. No wonder he became the target of attacks.

But just because the crowd’s anger is justified, doesn’t mean that anger will contribute to the conversation in any way. If the point is to condemn Wan for trying to obfuscate the issues and lead public opinion astray, the best thing to do is examine his arguments, pinpoint the flaws in his logic, and present solid statistics to prove him wrong. Verbal abuse, in however large quantity, from ten thousand people, or even ten million people, does not do any of these. Some commenters also took the occasion to vent their anger at the government for trying to shut down the discussion by deleting the documentary. They didn’t realize that these curses and insults will only close off the conversation more tightly. Even worse, it completely betrays the purpose of Chai’s search for a comprehensive and scientific explanation of the pollution. As a work of investigative journalism, the documentary is not immune to errors or oversights. Only when these faults are spotted can the documentary maximize its accuracy and value. Consecrating the documentary and denouncing any criticism as if it were blasphemy does not do credit to the film or the filmmaker. It only denies Chai and the public opportunities to understand more about the pollution in China.

This is not an isolated case of mob attacks. They are rampant on Chinese websites and social media. Of course, to call this a Chinese phenomenon is overestimating the originality of the Chinese, although many are very good at turning all debates, intellectual or not, into verbal fights. It can at least partially be attributed to an endemic lack of critical thinking in education as well as in the society. Parents, schools, and other forms of authority dictate what is right or wrong, and children are never encouraged to challenge popular opinion. Most Chinese people don’t learn that truth only emerges as a result of constant debates. Nor are many aware that different opinions can coexist at the same time.

What’s worse, the Chinese tend to link a person’s beliefs directly to his or her moral standing. To have a dissenting opinion often leads to evaluations of one’s character as uninformed or unwise at best, unscrupulous at worst. Many Chinese people believe that whatever they deem to be correct is the absolute truth and that anyone who attempts to question that truth is to be shouted down or punished. Therefore, when a belief is challenged, the immediate reaction is not to argue back with logic or evidence, but to get angry. This mentality penetrates all levels of discourse. At home, in public, on the Internet, from pro-government rallies to anti-government sentiments, anything can be turned into a shouting match.

Should Chinese netizens refrain from getting angry then? Of course not. No human is completely rational, and societies wouldn’t evolve if humans weren’t driven by indignation, pride, and the desire to press for change. But there is a difference between being motivated by passion to accomplish things in a rational way and letting passion override the rational mind. Chai Jing did a praise-worthy job pursuing the former. It is now up to the netizens to crawl out of the abyss of irrationality and learn to argue.

Cooperation Not Co-optation – Why Valls’s Proposal Against Radicalism Will Fail

France’s Prime Minister, Manuel Valls, appears in gossip rags almost as much as he does in serious political newspapers. After all, he is the young, upcoming star of the Socialist Party. However, his new plan for the education of imams – the religious leaders of Islamic congregations – is anything but progressive or innovative.

On March 2nd, Valls spoke at the University of Strasbourg about radicalism and secularism. He highlighted his continued concerns regarding these topics, “The rise of radical Islam and the rise of the extreme right” are “two major dangers [to France] that feed off one another.” In particular, he championed an education plan for imams as a solution to France’s burgeoning problem with radicalism. This program includes an assurance of increased dialogue between the Muslim community and the French government. However, the focus of the proposal is a curriculum for imams on the subject of French secularism, laïcité. In other words, the government is seeking to have an active hand in directing the religious doctrine of Islam in France.

Despite Valls’s best efforts to address radicalism, his “solution” will be ineffective and dangerous. This proposal is another step toward the increasing contamination of French laïcité policies by xenophobia. Given the January attacks in Paris, the definite and government-imposed training of imams will become another point of strife within the already tense population. His plan will motivate the very thing that Valls wishes to remedy – radicalism.

The resurgence of extremism in French society can be traced to pervasive xenophobia and the isolation of “foreign” cultures. This is not the first time that France has enacted laws to further the ideal of laïcité. In 2004, the government banned ostentatious religious symbols, such as hijabs or kippahs, in public schools. For some, this prevented religion from entering their child’s education. For many, this law further quarantined sub-cultures and intensified their desire to express their heritage freely. A growing population of young Muslims, many of whom are second-generation immigrants, have started to wear headscarves as a response to the restrictions. Hijabs are now a symbol of cultural expression in a country that tries so hard to suppress it. In its essence, fundamentalism reflects a longing to return to the literal interpretation – the roots – of a belief. Valls forgets that past laws, which limited religious expression, have actually given rise to more extreme schools of thought and practice. Instead of perpetuating the mistakes of the past, Valls should try to remedy them. Valls’s proposal will do nothing to ameliorate the situation, but will only further alienate the growing Muslim population.

Forced assimilation discourages collaborative tolerance.

That isn’t to say that secularism isn’t a worthy goal. At its core, separation of church and state is a noble pursuit, and one that is essential for effective democracy. Originally, laïcité was intended to counteract the dominance of Catholicism. Laïcité laws, mostly addressing public education, had protected freedom of thought from Catholic indoctrination.

Unfortunately, over the past fifteen years, xenophobia has distorted this ideal of secularism. Now, laws overtly favor the native French culture, which has pervasive Catholic roots. For instance, the Christian cross is exempt from the ban on religious symbols in public schools. When secularism is used to counter the dominant religious ethos, it promotes intellectual freedom. The minority perspective is heard and welcomed into the educational dialogue. However, when it is used to silence the minority, it becomes a tool for repression.

Instead of using laïcité to avoid addressing the real issues of an increasingly diverse France, Valls should take this opportunity to address France’s evolving culture. Islam and other sub-cultures are becoming as true to the French identity as baguettes or stinky fromage. A real solution to radicalism would challenge the entrenched notions of Frenchness. Valls’s current plan is symptomatic of the xenophobia that is polluting French policy. This plan reinforces the idea that minority cultures should be quashed and silenced. If Valls does not address France’s present diversity in an open dialogue, the intersection of xenophobia and secularism will ultimately result in a reckoning between France’s dominant and minority cultures. In 2004, the harassment directed at women in head coverings skyrocketed after the ban on hijabs had been enacted. No doubt, if Valls’s plan is enforced, further acts of Islamophobia will follow. Rather than targeting imams and the Muslim population in his ineffective proposal, Valls should seek a substantial cooperation – not co-optation.

The ABCs vs. the DFTs

The ABCs of anorexia, body dysmorphia, and compulsive exercise comprise the alphabet soup of discourse on eating disorders in Western countries. What about countries in the East? Japan’s bowl is full of DFTs—danjonoyakuwari, fushoku-byo, and taijin kyōfushō. A true mouthful for anyone who’s not Japanese.

Though the West is considered the birthplace of eating disorders, Japan has had its own unique struggle. During the Edo era (1603 – 1868) doctors noted a small number of patients who refused to eat rice, and would vomit when forced to eat. They called this strange illness fushoku-byo, or not eating disease. However, it wasn’t until the 1980’s, after Western doctors solidified the study of eating disorders, that Japanese began to actively research and release medical reports on eating disorders, using the Western doctor’s rhetoric. From 1988 to 1992 the number of identified cases of anorexia alone quadrupled in Japan. And the rate continues to grow to this day, soon to surpass the number of reported cases in the United States. Though there is a concern in Japan that this epidemic of eating disorders threatens Japan’s spotless reputation, the government’s attempts at lowering this rate have little hope of reversing this rate.

The increase in reported cases of anorexia stems from the stringent danjonoyakiwai, or gender roles, in Japan. Japanese culture stresses traditional gender roles, women as shufu, housewife, and men as the prime breadwinners. Though women are involved in the working place in Japan, the expectation of strict gender roles endures. A 2014 poll found that 40% of both men and women 20 to 40 years old believe husbands should work full time while wives stay at home, and 71% of female respondents said women should concentrate on raising children. Japanese culture deems any form of self-praise or self-assertion bad manners, limiting the spaces that women have for communicating their feelings outside set gender roles. Disconnected from self-expression, these women develop low self-esteem and an inability to cope with social issues, factors that can result in self-deprecating behavior and eating disorders.

Complicating the already rigid gender roles is the societal pressure facing adolescents transitioning into adulthood. Social anxiety takes the top spot amongst the biggest fears of Japanese adolescents and young adults. This weight hangs over the youth of Japan, resulting in taijin kyōfushō, or interpersonal phobia, a fear of embarrassing those around you with your very presence. This anxiety contributes to the stress that women feel towards their bodies. The need to be like their peers, to not stand out in an already highly homogenous society, drives them towards developing eating disorders.

In 1997 the Japanese government recognized the prevalence of eating disorders amongst women ages 13-39 and issued policies to counter it. High school Physical Education and Health classes now systematically present information about healthy eating habits and nutrition. However, these classes are purely informational, designed to promote healthy attitudes towards eating. They don’t deal at all with the psychological undercurrents at work. Since 1997 the Japanese government hasn’t passed any more policies that focus on the growing number of eating disorders. The current government under Prime Minster Shinzō Abe remains silent on issues regarding eating disorders.

The eating disorder intervention programs that Japan has in place don’t work because they are based on Western models. Though eating disorders are universal, the attitudes behind eating disorders are unique to each culture. Many women diagnosed with an eating disorder in the west relate their need to be thin to success. Attitudes perpetuated by the media in Western countries also help explain why women develop body dysmorphia, a belief that one’s appearance is defective, whereas in Japan it’s not so much the media that affects the development of eating disorders as it is social anxiety and peer evaluation.

So why does the Japanese government adopt the Western approach in dealing with eating disorders to Japan?

The West has experience dealing with eating disorders, and in the minds of the global community the Western way is the best way. Plus Western methods of intervention have been used in the past to help diagnose and treat eating disorders successfully. What the Japanese government fails to see is that Western methods succeed because they are Western. There is no equivalent of danjonoyakuwari, fushoku-byo, and taijin kyōfushō in a non-Japanese context. These terms and their impact are products of Japanese history and culture that require study to understand. Yet Japan has yet to fund research on mental health issues as Western medical groups have done. As a result the symptoms of many Japanese who suffer from eating disorders don’t correspond to clinical diagnostic markers set by Western medicine; these patients fall into subclinical categories where they can’t receive full treatment.

In the 80 medical schools in Japan there is only one professor specializing in eating disorders.

The answer for Japan isn’t to be more like the West. The answer is as a nation for Prime Minister Shinzō Abe with the Ministry of Health to update policies on mental health issues while defining symptoms of eating disorders and the prognosis for their care in a Japanese context. It’s time for the dialogue on eating disorders to be spoken in Japanese. ABC doesn’t work in the land of DST.

Burying the Hatchet

Japan claims to have fulfilled its responsibility towards the tens of thousands of women, euphemistically called “comfort women,” whom it forced to work in military brothels during WWII. The rest of the world begs to differ, and on March 1st, South Korean President Park called the Land of the Rising Sun out on it, telling Japan to apologize to and to provide for these women. Despite the passage of 75 years since the end of the war, Japan has yet to satisfactorily atone for the atrocities it forced on Korean, as well as Chinese, Taiwanese, Japanese, Filipino, Burmese and Indonesian, women. Japan should give up its belief that it has fulfilled its responsibility and do as President Park demands.

The first step Japan must take to accept its continued legal and moral responsibility is to understand why the treaty it signed, the organization it founded and the statement it issued didn’t resolve the conflict. The treaty mentioned here, the 1965 Treaty on Basic Relations, required Japan to pay 364 million dollars to South Korea in war reparations as compensation for the conscription of Korean laborers under the boot of Japanese imperialism. The flaw is that the treaty only addressed forced labor, omitting forced prostitution. It simply never took these women into account because the issue of comfort women wasn’t even a blip on international or national radars until the 1970s. A treaty that predates the recognition of an issue cannot redress it and Japan should stop believing that this 50 year old treaty ended its legal responsibility.

As for the organization which Japan founded to address its moral responsibility, it was called the Asian Women’s Fund (AWF) and it operated from 1994 to 2007. Japan lauds it for being a joint collaboration between the government and the public to financially compensate former comfort women with a combination of private donations and government funding. And while the AWF itself wasn’t perfect (because of the mix of private and public funding, it wasn’t official government redress), its biggest flaw was that it closed.

During its 14 years of operation, the AWF only awarded direct compensation to a mere 285 women from South Korea, Taiwan and the Philippines and built some medical facilities in Indonesia. Considering that 50,000 is the conservative estimate of how many comfort women existed during the war, 285 is a dismally small number. Japan didn’t even give women in North Korea and China the opportunity to apply for compensation because their governments and Japan’s weren’t cooperating at the time. Moreover, many South Koreans who could have been awarded money refused to accept it because it wasn’t official government redress. When the fund closed in 2007, many known comfort women were still uncompensated, leaving Japan’s responsibilities unfulfilled. As with the case of the 1965 treaty, Japan should realize that the AWF did not lay the matter to rest.

Last is the deficiency of the statement the Japanese government issued in regards to comfort women, called the Kono statement. Issued in 1993, the Kono statement was an explicit victory for comfort women by recognizing and apologizing for Japan’s crimes during the war. However, despite the sincerity with which it was originally given, recent political changes call into question whether or not it continues to apply. The current Prime Minister Shinzo Abe and other revisionists promote a whitewashed version of WWII where Japan was not an aggressor and comfort women were regular prostitutes, thereby undermining the statement’s validity. Japan must recognize that the statement in its current easy-to-ignore state can’t contribute to Japan’s atonement.

Closely linked with this first step of acknowledging continued responsibility is the second step of actively doing something about it. The most basic and immediate way this should happen is the reopening of the AWF to work ceaselessly at identifying and compensating former comfort women. Even if they meet with very little success, either for diplomatic or social reasons, it is vital to show at least symbolically that Japan is trying to make amends. Moreover, when it is reopened, the AWF should be made a part of the Japanese government so as to meet the demand that the money it awards is official government redress. In order to counter the views of revisionists like Prime Minister Abe, the Kono statement should be given more political weight and the role of the AWF should also be expanded to include advocating for the truthful and fair education of the history of comfort women. Burying the hatchet doesn’t mean Japan is free to forget about their wrong-doing. It means learning from the past to make sure the hatchet stays in the ground.