COVID-19 and the Threat of Disaster Fascism

On the 30^th March, the Hungarian Parliament voted 137 – 53 to give Viktor Orban’s government the power to rule by decree in response to the COVID-19 pandemic. Such measures, ostensibly in order to give the government a free-hand to take action against the spread of the virus, have raised significant concerns both within Hungary and across Europe, with critics arguing that it gives Orban “unnecessary and unlimited power”. Particularly worrying is the fact that these powers have been bestowed upon Orban with no time limit, effectively, in the words of opposition leader Peter Jakkab, placing the whole of Hungarian democracy “in quarantine” indefinitely.

Despite support in the public sphere for governments to have tight control over their coronavirus response, the main worry is that certain individuals and governments may use this power to their own advantage. Viktor Orban has long been seen as a threat to democracy in Hungary, and since rising to power in 2010 has systematically chipped away at many of the checks and balances of the Hungarian state. His far-right populist policies, claims that Europe is “under invasion”, and authoritarian tendencies have plagued policy-makers in the European Union since long before the current crisis. COVID-19 has given him the push he needed to seize absolute control of Hungary, ostensibly as a legitimate response to the current emergency. His track record, however, suggests that such powers will be used to further solidify his position, leading some to claim that with Hungary, COVID-19 has “killed its first democracy”.

Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban - the first Western leader to use COVID-19 for personal gain?

Whilst it remains to be seen if such fears have been misplaced, the threat of authoritarian rulers using the COVID-19 pandemic to consolidate their own power and pursue external goals is very real. It could be argued that the pandemic has taken hold at an unfortunate time in history, where many states around the world are witnessing a shift towards authoritarian thinking. Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro, for instance, has flouted the international norm and pushed ahead with continued economic and social activity across Brazil, despite members of his own cabinet falling victim to the virus. In response to criticisms of his approach, he has threatened to fire his health ministers and scientific advisers. As Bolsonaro continues to bury his head in the sand, it has fallen to Rio's gangs to enforce social distancing measures in the communities they inhabit.

In India, Hindu-nationalist leader Narendra Modi has been widely criticised for his botched handling of the lockdown which resulted in widespread violence and displacement across the country. In a context of great division even before the pandemic, Indian minority groups now fear that the lockdown measures will be used as a way to further disenfranchise and disconnect them from access to government support. Muslim groups, displaced by pogroms in Delhi, can expect little to no support from the government in the coming weeks. With those forced to exist in displaced people’s camps, with little to no medical support or capacity to self-isolate, the coronavirus can be expected to spread rapidly amongst these vulnerable groups. A rising number of sick Muslims in India could easily be weaponised as a way to further alienate the group from the Hindu majority, and these populations can expect to be scapegoated as the crisis deepens in the coming weeks.

Xenophobia and racism can spiral in times of crisis, and the COVID-19 pandemic is no exception. Donald Trump’s insistence at referring to the virus as the “Chinese Virus” highlights the way that populists can turn an emergency into a blame game. China’s own authoritarian leadership has been quick to fuel rumours that the coronavirus outbreak may have been caused by the US military in an act of biological warfare, an absurd claim that nevertheless escalates the war of words between the superpowers and undermines global diplomacy at a time where it is needed more than ever. With the outbreak originating in China, there will undoubtedly be questions directed at the management of the early stages of the spread of the virus in Wuhan, and many of them will be well-placed and require hard answers. With global economies sliding into free-fall thanks to COVID-19, China finds itself in the firing line as stock markets tank, industries collapse, and people lose their livelihoods. 

Accompanying this real need for accountability comes ignorance, scapegoating, and thinly-veiled racism.

Never far from the crest of any wave of opportunistic race-baiting, Nigel Farage is again making headlines for attacking the UK government for its decision to purchase ventilators from China, with others suggesting that we cannot ‘trust’ the Chinese to sell uncontaminated ventilators. With reports that US government officials are referring to the virus as the “Kung Flu” in response to Chinese-American reporters asking questions, and increasing vitriol being posted on social media accounts across the West aimed at Chinese users, it seems clear that we are witnessing a global rise in hate speech as the pandemic continues. Such rhetoric has spilled over into actions, with reports of mob-violence directed at Asian people in the UK, and a “shocking rise” in hate crimes reported by police, even with the current social distancing conditions in the country.

In response to such behaviour, already stretched emergency services can and should respond to limit the damage caused by those who do not follow the rules of the lockdown. In the UK, we’ve seen allegations of the rise of a “police state” as forces around the country seek to limit interpersonal contact. Such a claim is absurd and ridiculous, but it demonstrates how uncomfortable British people are with government encroachment on their own social lives. In Italy, we’ve seen increasingly aggressive tactics being used by stretched-to-the-limit police forces trying to ensure people stay on lockdown. In Spain, the military has been deployed to keep people inside.

The Spanish military enforcing lockdown measures. Credit: Olive Press.

Avoiding these authoritarian measures is simple. Do what is being advised by the experts. Stay inside, keep your distance from others, support the vulnerable in your community where possible, wash your hands, and do everything possible to slow the spread of the virus. If we practice personal responsibility, and social solidarity, then our governments need not intervene as stringently on our behalf.

We in the West do not take kindly to the sort of authoritarian response that has been seen in China. We do not do well when our civil liberties are threatened. Some people take this to mean they do not have to follow government advice. But those people should remember that in a crisis, advice can very quickly become an order. In an attempt to protect its people, a government sometimes has to make undemocratic decisions. In the case of Hungary, the country’s leadership has solidified its power in order to respond to an unprecedented crisis. When the pandemic has subsided, Hungary may just find that one of the victims of COVID-19 was its democratic values.

Strong, sometimes draconian, measures will be required to combat the spread of COVID-19. Governments will be forced to make decisions that they would never consider in business-as-usual circumstances. In some cases, the democratic process may have to be postponed. There are many legitimate reasons for governments to impose more direct rule in a time of crisis. But now is no time to blindly support the actions of national leaders. We must watch closely what is done, critique the decisions that are made, and be definitive about where we as citizens draw our hard lines on what we deem acceptable intervention on our behalf.

The COVID-19 pandemic will pass, and when it does, we will be left with the consequences of our actions during this time. This means we must take personal responsibility for every decision we make. This means social solidarity with our neighbours and communities, helping the vulnerable where we can, and abiding by social distancing measures to slow the spread. This also means holding our governments to account for their actions during this time. If we do not take personal responsibility for halting the spread of COVID-19, our governments will be forced to enact more authoritarian policies to ensure the safety of the most vulnerable. Once that power is wielded, it can be difficult to put back in the box.

We all want the COVID-19 pandemic to be brought to an end. The only measure to stop the spread of the virus is to keep ourselves physically distant from one another until we have a vaccine or a cure. That can be achieved by a mass movement of social solidarity, or through government force.

Now more than ever, we need to look at our leaders, and look at ourselves, and ask what kind of society we want to live in.

The most insidious side effect of COVID-19 could be the way it erodes the social fabric of our democracies globally. We cannot allow that to happen.

Stay physically distant, but socially engaged. Help your friends, your neighbours, and the most vulnerable in your communities. Hold your governments to account. Use this crisis to build a new world that is better equipped to cope with whatever the future may hold. Do not look blame others. The power is in every one of us to do the right thing and avoid the threat of disaster fascism encroaching on our liberties and our lives.

The Spiralling Impacts of COVID-19 for the Humanitarian and Development Sector

The global coronavirus pandemic has rocked whole societies and ground economies to a halt across the world. In the UK, the NHS is expected to be stretched far beyond its limit, businesses are closing down, and people are being advised to self-isolate to limit the spread. In a well-developed, well-prepared society like the UK, such challenges are scary, but there is a good chance that if safety precautions are followed the spread of the virus can be brought under control. But we have already seen that COVID-19 has the capacity to cripple even developed nations’ healthcare systems, such as in Italy and China, and developed nations across the world are taking increasingly draconian measures to fight the greatest public health crises in recent memory.

But if COVID-19 is capable of wreaking such havoc across some the best-prepared nations on earth, then its impact on populations without access to the services we take for granted will be exponentially greater.

Photo Credit: Norwegian Refugee Council. A Syrian boy poses for a picture during an awareness workshop on coronavirus (COVID-19) at a camp for displaced people in Atme town in Syria's northwestern Idlib province, near the border with Turkey.

For instance, one of the worst affected nations currently is Iran. The country is facing near-total breakdown, with leaders dying, reports of mass burial pits for victims of the coronavirus, and an unknown death toll that some warn could eventually reach into the millions. Government mismanagement of the response has been blamed, as has the unfortunate timing of the virus arriving in the city of Qom during a mass Shia pilgrimage to the site, which may have helped speed up the spread. But many others are pointing to the severe limitations of Iran’s capacity to deal with the outbreak due to the continued US sanctions placed on the country. Due to the confusing nature of the sanctions, certain exemptions for humanitarian imports are still not translating into available materials for healthcare providers.

For example, a sanction on paper material entering the country has resulted in many doctors and nurses facing work without such basic equipment as facemasks. As Human Rights Watch pointed out in October, “while the US government has built exemptions for humanitarian imports into its sanctions regime … in practice these exemptions have failed to offset the strong reluctance of US and European companies and banks to risk incurring sanctions and legal action by exporting or financing exempted humanitarian goods.” The result, they conclude, “has been to deny Iranians access to essential medicines and to impair their right to health.”

And Iran is not the only country struggling with sanctions as it attempts to contain and delay COVID-19. Syria, too, has seen a war-weakened health system further impeded by international sanctions. Although, as with Iran, exemptions are made for humanitarian aid, in Syria’s case an embargo on oil imports has meant that ambulances have been left without fuel. Other countries with weaker health systems than those in the west will undoubtedly suffer more greatly. This is a political and economic crisis as much as a public health one, and our actions with regard to each other will impact the outcome of our response.

However, citizens of poorer countries can still practice the same self-isolation techniques as those of us in the UK. Other groups, such as refugees and internally displaced persons’ do not have the luxury of locking themselves away in homes. In Moria camp in Greece, for instance, the threat of COVID-19 is looming large over the front-line doctors working daily to support new arrivals in the overcrowded, underfunded camps. Medecins sans Frontieres have called for an immediate evacuation of the camp, highlighting that in some areas there is only one water tap for up to 1,300 residents, making widescale cross contamination almost inevitable. Since the first confirmed case in Moria on the 13^th March, the Greek government has called a temporary suspension of non-state organisations working in the camps, which MSF argues will lead to a much more severe crisis in the coming weeks.

And even in the absence of government suspensions of activity, humanitarian organisations are finding it harder and harder to do their jobs as COVID-19 spreads around the globe. Jan Egeland, the head of the Norwegian Refugee Council, himself currently in quarantine, highlighted the difficulties of continuing to work in a context where many staff members are sick and showing symptoms of the novel coronavirus, or are otherwise unable to travel to their worksites, saying that the COVID-19 response should be “treated like a warzone”. Agencies are scrambling to deliver public health services in contexts of displacement and conflict to help slow the spread of coronavirus, but they are also finding their ongoing activities hindered or halted entirely due to the pandemic.

The World Bank has now committed $14 billion to fighting COVID-19 in developing countries, and particularly in supporting local private sector networks to continue to work and keep supply chains moving in areas that require support to keep hospitals and food markets open, but much more must be done to support the most vulnerable populations in this time of crisis. Much like within the UK, we must be aware that poor, elderly, immunocompromised, or isolated individuals need greater support than the majority of us for whom coronavirus may just be a severe flu, we must take a global perspective when planning our response to the crisis as a whole.

To stop a pandemic, everybody needs to be prepared. In the same way that those of us currently stockpiling our own hand sanitiser, hand soap, toilet paper, and other sanitary products are in fact increasing the risk of the virus continuing to spread by leaving others without access to these goods (what good is having five boxes of hand sanitiser if your neighbour and colleague can’t get any and therefore they catch the virus and pass it onto you!?), it is not enough to protect our own communities and nations. This is a global pandemic, and it needs global solutions.

We are entering unprecedented times. The last major global outbreak like this, during the 1918 Flu pandemic, took place in a very different context, where the world was still much less interconnected than today. A global population approaching 8 billion, with people living closer together, with far more efficient road, rail, and air transport systems, working jobs that often require international collaboration, has never before had to deal with something as severe as COVID-19.

Unfortunately, the best treatment for COVID-19 appears to be self-isolation. This may slow the spread of the virus, but in the process of protecting ourselves we must continue to (figuratively!) embrace our humanity and think of others. There is no Noah’s Ark to save just some of us from the flood. Nor, do I believe, should we wish for that. Together, we are more intelligent, more resilient, and more powerful than this virus.

Listen to advice, do what you can to help, be kind, reach out to those who are isolated and vulnerable, and stay safe.

Find out how you can help during these difficult times here:

https://staythefuckhome.com/

https://www.nhs.uk/conditions/coronavirus-covid-19/

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/global-health/science-and-disease/elderly-coronavirus-how-help-older-vulnerable-people-supermarket-shopping/

https://www.thecut.com/2020/03/dont-spread-coronavirus-misinformation.html

Humanitarian Responsibility in the Context of the Climate Crisis

The Humanitarian Networks and Partnerships Week (HNPW) takes place annually in Geneva, and serves as a platform for humanitarians and development professionals to meet and share their challenges and lessons learned from responding to crises around the world. This year’s event, which took place between the 3^rd and 7^th of February, was preoccupied with one challenge above all others: the climate crisis.

The Humanitarian Networks and Partnerships Week takes place annually in Geneva

This is not surprising. Greta Thunberg, Time’s Person of the Year for 2019, has focused global public attention onto the effects of human-made climate change to great effect, as other movements such as the Extinction Rebellion continue their actions to raise awareness and advocate for drastic action to tackle the biggest challenge of our time. UN Secretary General Antonio Guterres called the fight against climate change the “battle for our lives” and pointed to the immediate need to cut emissions if we are to keep the global temperature from rising above 2C by 2030. Many climate scientists have warned that even if we were to halt all Co2 emissions tomorrow, we are still locked in for a 1.5 degree rise in global average temperatures. It is feared that the resulting increase in extreme weather events will lead to spiralling humanitarian need, with the IFRC’s Cost of Doing Nothing report putting the number of people in need of humanitarian assistance at 200 million – almost double the current number – by 2050.

Such a dramatic increase in humanitarian need is not something that the current system can handle. 2018’s State of the Humanitarian System report demonstrated that, despite a greater amount of funding than ever before, the humanitarian system was still only able to meet about 59% of global need. The massive shortfall in this case was largely as a result of the severe crises in Syria, Yemen, Myanmar, and other protracted conflict zones around the world, but looking to the future, the biggest threat to global peace and security will likely be the changing climate. The World Bank estimates that extreme weather events will result in 143 million more climate migrants by 2050. The ICRC, the arm of the Red Cross Movement that focuses on conflict, draws attention to the dual vulnerabilities of people in areas at risk of environmental degradation as a result of climate change, highlighting that worsening droughts, or more unpredictable weather patterns, can result in increasing competition for resources that can stoke intergroup tensions and lead to violence.

As Paul Knox-Clarke, author of the State of the Humanitarian System report, pointed out in an excellent session at the HNPW, the humanitarian system has historically been very good at responding to crises it is used to dealing with, and very bad at adapting to new challenges. The challenges associated with the climate crisis are likely to be on a scale that we have not previously seen. The mutually-reinforcing threats of environmental degradation, increased instability as a result of greater vulnerability to natural hazards, and rising intergroup tensions, will likely lead to longer-lasting humanitarian crises that have no clear political solutions.

It was clear at HNPW that systemic change to the humanitarian system would be required to meet the challenge of the climate crisis

The humanitarian system is already stretched beyond its limit, and more will be required of it as the effects of climate change become more pronounced.

What can we do to better prepare ourselves to respond to this new challenge?

Climate action must absolutely become a priority for all humanitarian actors. This starts with our own operations. Traditionally, the live-saving nature of humanitarian action meant that issues such as sustainability were a secondary concern – if flying around the world, shipping plastic tarpaulin to refugee camps, and burning natural gas for heating, cooking, and other basic services meant keeping communities affected by disasters or conflict alive, then they were necessary evils. But in the context of the climate crisis, such activities go against one of the core principles of humanitarian action; that any response will “do no harm” to the population it is trying to support. When, for example, it is estimated that the humanitarian sector spent about $1.2 billion on polluting fuel in camps, settlements, and on its fleets and offices in 2017 alone, we must ask if it can credibly be said that such actions are not having a detrimental effect on both the local environments being served and the global climate.

The Environment in Humanitarian Action Network session at HNPW showcased some promising developments for the sector. According to ongoing research from LSE, an increasing number of humanitarian organisations are developing environmental policies, and for the most-part UN agencies and their NGO counterparts are getting better at running their offices and HQ activities in a more sustainable way. However, we cannot yet be sure how well these policies are translating into effective activity at the field level. Humanitarian operations remain clunky, often inefficient, and reliant on transport and utilisation of potentially environmentally-damaging goods. Plastic is of great concern, and as the sector grapples with how to reduce the impact of its plastic usage during field operations (predominantly through the four-part plan to reduce the amount of plastic sent to operations, reuse and repurpose that which is sent, develop return-to-sender policies for unused material, and search for alternatives to non-biodegradable plastics), it must also be careful to ensure that the life-saving capacity of operations are not curtailed by an excessive focus on reducing carbon footprint or environmental impact.

The push for greater sustainability in a complex post-disaster or conflict situation is always going to be a delicate balancing act. How can we lower our own environmental impact whilst retaining a high level of service to affected populations?

QSAND, a post-disaster shelter and settlements sustainability tool developed by BRE Trust and IFRC, attempts to help organisations tackle this challenge by providing a framework through which issues related to environmental, economic, and social sustainability can be considered. Making decisions that will protect affected people in the short-term, and support long-term livelihoods and health, can be difficult in the chaotic environment in which humanitarian organisations operate. However, as the sector is forced to evolve to meet the demands of the climate crisis, there appear to be a few key areas in which our efforts should be focused:

QSAND can help with decision-making related to these issues in shelter and settlements programmes

Mainstreaming Environment into Decision-Making Practices

By nature of the work that humanitarians do, sustainability is necessarily going to be a secondary concern in comparison to the vital live-saving activities that must take place. However, sustainability issues must be a core focus of humanitarian decision-making, alongside issues of efficiency, cost, and durability of materials and services provided. Environmental training should be provided to all humanitarian workers, so that such considerations can be evaluated in an informed way. Whilst it is good practice to have environmental focal points who can monitor an operation’s impact within organisations, it is increasingly important that all staff have a good understanding of the implications of the decisions they make on the surrounding natural environment.

The development of user-friendly, non-technical guidance can enable non-subject experts to make quick decisions that take environmental impact into consideration.

Collaboration with Outside Actors

The humanitarian system does not need to reinvent the wheel. Issues such as supply chain sustainability, operational efficiency, life cycle assessments of projects, and ethical sourcing have already been addressed in other sectors such as the construction industry. Working with organisations that have done this before can enable humanitarians to adapt the relevant tools and methodologies used in other sectors to their own use. BRE Trust are particularly interested in supporting this activity, using our expertise in sustainability certification, supply chain management, and life cycle assessment to support the push for greater environmental awareness in the humanitarian sector.

The academic sphere also provides a large, relatively untapped resource for humanitarians. Increasingly, the sectors are learning to work together on joint research projects and on impact measuring initiatives. Whilst often academics and practitioners work to different time scales and sometimes have different priorities for project outputs, there are many examples of successful projects that provide invaluable learning opportunities for the sector. BRE Trust is looking to help foster these relationships between organisations in the field and our network of university partners. One example of this is our collaboration with Loughborough University, focused  on the use of renewable energy solutions to build community energy resilience.

In addition, conservation organisations can provide a useful bridge between humanitarian aims and the protection of the natural environment. Some organisations, such as the World Wildlife Fund, already have disaster management programmes that work closely with the humanitarian sector in disaster response, and many others can provide input in balancing the need for a quick response with the imperative to protect the natural world.

Seeing Nature as an Ally

There is nothing better at regulating the natural environment than the natural environment itself. As discussed in another HNPW session, nature-based solutions to disasters can enhance humanitarian response. In the conversation, it was suggested that environmental conservation could be an element of anticipatory humanitarian action. The Global Mangrove Alliance noted that without mangroves, 38% more people globally would be at risk of flooding. Trees are amongst the most successful of flood deterrents; their leaves intercept rain water, which will often evaporate again before touching the ground, and their roots absorb water that enters the soil. And the protection of soil itself is also key to limiting the impact of natural hazards – good soil increases crop yields, protecting livelihoods and offering nutrition to affected populations.

On the other hand, a failure to protect the environment can have far-reaching consequences. The reduction of natural resources as a result of environmental degradation can spark interethnic tensions in low-resource areas, leading to conflict. And violence is not limited to situations where different groups meet. New research demonstrates that environmental degradation can be a driving force behind rising rates of gender-based violence and sexual assault.

As the climate crisis shows, when we try to work against nature, we can fall foul of its wrath. Working with the natural world, we can develop better defences against hazards, and provide greater insulation against the underlying economic and social grievances that can trigger conflict between social groups.

Localisation

CRS' pilot project in Myanmar puts the local communities in the driving seat of their future. Photo Credit: CRS.

Lastly, and most importantly, in improving humanitarian sustainability, is localisation. Why send resources and personnel around the world when you have a local community looking to rebuild in the aftermath of a disaster or conflict?

The case for localisation is two-fold: first, it reduces the environmental impact of foreign aid staff travelling to far away places every time a disaster occurs, and secondly, it builds resilience and capacity to prepare and respond in communities that are likely to be affected by increasingly frequent and severe natural weather events. As the sector increasingly focuses on mainstreaming climate concerns into its programming, the role of local organisations and actors will necessarily grow to meet the challenge.

Catholic Relief Services’ (CRS)  new pilot project in Myanmar is a great example of this new way of looking at humanitarian response. In this project, CRS will be looking to build capacity within Karuna Mission Social Solidarity, a Myanmar-based NGO, to support families displaced by conflict as they are rehomed in new communities. The cash-based programming will allow the displaced people themselves to pay for the construction of their new homes, putting money into the local economy and strengthening relationships between the existing community and the beneficiaries. By engaging in training and capacity-building exercises with KMSS and local communities, CRS are providing at-risk populations with the skills they need to better prepare for, and respond to, future events that may cause disruption to their lives. In return, CRS can learn from the communities, who know far more about the local environment than international – or even national – actors, including how best to navigate local politics and interact with the local ecology.

Putting the affected people in the driving seat can help to improve not just the environmental sustainability of the operation, but also the economic and social sustainability of the communities that we are trying to help.

The new era of climate crisis is upon us, whether we like it or not. It is up to every sector of society, every organisation, and every individual to do what they can to tackle the new challenges that we face across the world. The humanitarian sector has its own role to play in ensuring that it is more responsible in its actions when considering its environmental impact. By doing so, we can get the best out of our own operations and give the best to the communities we serve. These are just some suggestions to push environmental action to the top of our agenda. There are many more. But whatever we decide to do, we must do it urgently. The time is now.

If you interested in learning more about QSAND and how the BRE Trust is supporting action for the environment in humanitarian action, visit the QSAND website or our Knowledge Hub. If you are interested in engaging with the networks dedicated to improving sustainability across the humanitarian sphere, visit the Environment in Humanitarian Action Network or the Environmental Community of Practice.

Poisoned Earth - Asbestos in Indonesia

The use of asbestos in buildings was banned in the UK in 1999. Originally touted as a useful, effective insulation material, it is now widely known that asbestos can have a very damaging effect on the human body. Particularly dangerous when breathed in, asbestos particles have been shown to cause respiratory infections, mesothelioma, and lung cancer. Despite subsequent efforts to manage asbestos filling in buildings, previous exposure to the substance still kills 4,500 people annually in the UK. Due to the usual long-term delay (from 15 – 60 years) of the development of symptoms following asbestos exposure, this remains a widespread health concern across the world. As of 2019, 66 countries globally have banned its use, and yet the WHO estimates 125 million people a year are still exposed to its effects.

And on a global level, we are not just dealing with pre-existing asbestos already in buildings. Countries such as Russia and Kazakhstan continue to export asbestos worldwide, mainly to developing countries engaging in large scale building projects. Notable consumers and users of asbestos include China, India, Thailand, and Indonesia.

Of particular importance is the widespread use of asbestos in Indonesia. This is because Indonesia is one of the most disaster-prone countries in the world, with an average of nearly 400 significant disasters befalling the country annually since 1990. The Indonesian government spends an average of $300 - $500 million a year on post-disaster reconstruction and recovery, following earthquakes, cyclones, flood events, volcanic eruptions, landslides, and tsunamis. That’s a lot of reconstruction. And that’s a lot of asbestos usage.

As the practice of asbestos management in the UK demonstrates, for the most-part, if asbestos is securely contained within the shell of a building, it is relatively safe. But if it starts to break down, for example when a building is demolished, then asbestos particles become very dangerous indeed. Therefore, the removal of asbestos is a highly specialised job that is tightly regulated. This is all well and good in a routine demolition project, as risks can be managed and precautions taken. However, when a building fitted with asbestos collapses due to a disaster, or when damaged buildings are bulldozed to make way for quick redevelopment of post-disaster shelter, as happened in Indonesia following the Sulawesi earthquake and tsunami in 2018, asbestos particles are released and contaminate the surrounding earth, air, and lungs of those sifting through the wreckage.

This poses a dual problem for humanitarian organisations responding to the disaster. Firstly, it directly impacts the capacity of humanitarian actors to respond. As mentioned, regulations for the handling and removal of asbestos are extensive, and many humanitarian organisations lack the personnel capable of undertaking these procedures. Even if they had such personnel, most of the asbestos guidance assumes that the material is still in the building, not seeping into the ground, water supply, and contaminating the air around the disaster area. As a result, many of the first-responders found themselves in a dangerous position in the immediate aftermath of the tsunami. Unprepared, and without appropriate hazmat clothing, many were concerned that they had been exposed to the deadly particles. As agencies became aware of this concern, it was clear that certain international humanitarian personnel were to be prevented from travelling to the affected area. Most humanitarian insurance policies, which can support staff in the cases of kidnap or attack, simply refuse to cover the risk of asbestos exposure. Such a lack of coverage raised serious concerns around the capacity of response operations to continue in Sulawesi and poses serious challenges to the continued presence of humanitarian responders in disaster areas where asbestos is present.

The second, and far more impactful, issue, is that of the threat to the affected population themselves. Globally, the estimated annual death rate due to asbestos exposure is around 200,000. In Indonesia, the impacts of exposure are still poorly understood, and many communities are at high risk of developing health complications as a result of the continued use of asbestos in pre- and post-disaster construction. Whilst local NGOs are working with communities to raise awareness of the issue, and in some cases win compensation for the dangerous practices of the government, there are still a significant number of people living in toxic buildings.

There is considerable debate in humanitarian circles around how best to quantify deaths as a result of disasters. For example, following the devastating 2010 earthquake in Haiti, the resulting displacement and lack of clean water supplies brought about largely by the destruction of infrastructure across the country led to the first cholera outbreak on the island in over a century. Should the 8,183 confirmed deaths from this outbreak be included in the death statistics for the earthquake itself? In the US, many of the first responders that were on the scene of the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11^th 2001 have since fallen ill or died as a result of what is referred to as World Trade Center illness (likely also mostly as a result of asbestos exposure). Are they further victims of the Al Qaeda attackers? And how many people in Indonesia and across the world that have been inadvertently exposed to asbestos poisoning as buildings collapse in disaster situations, who either have or will in the future develop severe respiratory problems, can claim they were victims of a natural event that occurred decades previously?

We know the risks of asbestos. In the West, its maintenance and removal has become a routine, if still difficult and relatively dangerous, activity. But as the global humanitarian system wrestles with the complicated and incredibly high-stakes challenge it poses, we must focus our attention on the affected communities and individuals now rebuilding their lives in a toxic environment. A session at this year’s Humanitarian Networks and Partnerships Week was dedicated to discussing the challenge of asbestos in humanitarian action, and this should be the start of a real investigation into the solutions to a global challenge.

Until an answer is reached, we must do our best to educate ourselves and others about the dangers of asbestos exposure around the world. And we must do what we can to support those victims of disasters or conflict, now striving to rebuild their lives on top of poisoned ground.

Anger Into Action - The Election Autopsy

Parliamentary politics has failed us. Dishonest, deceiving, morally bankrupt political leaders have failed us. A billionaire-backed, biased media has failed us. With the election of Boris Johnson, the furthest right wing of the establishment has been empowered. The country has become more divided. The country has become less kind.

I have always taken pride in calling myself British. I thought that it was positive that whereas previous generations of my family were quick to refer to themselves as English, I myself felt part of a larger, more inclusive community. I, perhaps naively, dreamed that one day my kids, or my kids’ kids, would call themselves European before British. The last three years of discourse in this country have made it abundantly clear that that will not be the case. A view of the voting maps from this election shows that Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland are tearing away from the majority of English voters.

Perhaps another Scottish independence referendum is now on the horizon. A hard Brexit in January now looks more likely than ever and should that happen the economic and political turmoil that will be felt in Northern Ireland is yet to be fully understood. A dormant political rupture is likely to spark back to life as those in Northern Ireland are torn between their British nationality and their European identity.

Maybe after the next five years the British identity will not be what I think it is today. In a union that is currently anything but united, I may not be able to call myself British in a meaningful way. The fractured politics of this island have not gone away with Johnson’s victory.

This is not about left or right. This is not about leave or remain, or old and young, or urban and rural. There were Tory members that stood against the lies and deceit that Johnson has peddled. There were Labour members that voiced a preference for Johnson over their own party leader. There were voters who saw Johnson as the lesser of two evils, there were those who saw no good choice for any of us, and there were those who fell for the lies. There were others who saw the lies and voted anyway. There were those that wanted this. This about standing up to them. This is about right and wrong.

In my lifetime, parliamentary politics has never represented me. I was too young to remember the meteoric rise of Tony Blair’s New Labour, and their betrayal of the platform they ran on. But I grew up in a world overshadowed by an illegal war that killed 500,000 Iraqi civilians, 179 British soldiers, and that continues to have far-reaching consequences in the collapse of Iraq and ISIS-inspired attacks across Europe. In 2010, I was too young to vote. I did, however, listen closely to the Liberal Democrats’ promises of scrapped tuition fees and a strong commitment to Europe. In 2012, at 18 years old, I joined the first cohort of university students hit with a £9,000 fee and watched the Lib Dems back a Tory government intent on scapegoating the EU as a cause of their own failings. I voted Remain in the referendum, and I lost. I voted Labour in 2017, and again yesterday. Again, I lost. The figures would suggest that my entire generation lost.

But we were not voting for a party yesterday. We were voting for an opportunity. An opportunity to show that alternatives to the current state of affairs were possible. I don’t, and never did, believe that Jeremy Corbyn had all the answers. In fact, there was much about the current Labour movement that felt very problematic. But I do firmly believe that it would have been a better option than putting the racist, classist, Islamophobic, misogynistic, homophobic, climate-denying, self-interested, deadbeat father with very suspect links to foreign actors in charge.

Boris Johnson stands against everything I believe in. I do not extend that feeling to his party; I believe that many Conservative voters and members want the same things I do, even if their approach to achieving them is different. That is fine. The capacity to debate the solutions to problems is key in any democracy. But with the cynical, deliberately fraudulent campaign run by Johnson and his media team, seemingly lifted unedited from the Donald Trump playbook, the current Tory leadership has demonstrated its contempt for the public on all sides of the political spectrum.

Like the Liberal Democrat betrayal in 2010, like the New Labour betrayal in 2003, like every political administration that I have lived through, the establishment of 2019 has demonstrated it will do what needs to be done to keep its stranglehold on the power of this country just firm enough to keep us quiet. It has no place for us in its plan.

Voting is one opportunity for the public to exercise their rights. It is a fundamental right and one that we must use whenever we are given the chance. But it is only one opportunity.

To those who voted yesterday in the hopes of making a difference to the lives of the most vulnerable, to those who feel that that possibility is now gone, now is the time to prove that the personal is political. Now is the time to show what kindness, togetherness, solidarity really is. Now is the time to live in a way that makes the world a better place.

Continue to expose the lies of the elite. Protest every policy that will make our lives harder. Fight for every inch of ground for those who do not have a voice. Fight for the homeless, fight for the families on food stamps, fight for the immigrants who remain in limbo, fight for those poorer, more vulnerable, and more in-need than yourselves. Fight for what is right.

Volunteer for local organisations that make a difference in your community. Reach out to friends, neighbours, community members. Show solidarity with disadvantaged groups. Join the chorus of voices calling for real change to tackle climate catastrophe. Stand up and be counted when others’ rights are threatened, because we are all that we have. Challenge those that want to divide us. Show what it means to be open-minded, be welcoming, be kind.

I want to live in a society where people of different religions, ethnicities, sexualities, classes, and genders can all feel welcome. I want to live in a society that does not define itself by what it is in opposition to, but by what it believes in. I want to live in a society that values its local communities, and still faces outwards to embrace the big wide world. I want to live in a society I can feel proud of. No political party can do that for me.

When the outside seems to get uglier every day, make your inside beautiful.

It’s the only thing we can do.

I want to be proud to be British again. Together, we can make that possible.

The London Bridge Attack - Everyday Heroes in Times of Crisis

The 29^th November 2019 marked another tragedy for the city of London, as terrorist Usman Khan stabbed five people and killed Jack Merritt and Saskia Jones, before being killed himself by police. By all accounts, both Jack and Saskia were kind and vibrant young people, dedicated to supporting rehabilitation of violent offenders and fiercely defiant in their beliefs of the inherent virtue of humanity.

What happened to them has led some to question that virtue, and it is certainly a horrific and unspeakable crime that was committed against them. But to write this off as another terrible day in a world that seems to be getting worse by the hour (if you were to believe your Twitter feed), ignores a significant part of the story.

To match Jack and Saskia’s generosity of spirit, when Khan attacked he was disarmed and held down by several brave members of the public, at great risk to their own lives. Some were also staff at the rehabilitation centre, sharing Jack and Saskia’s passion for the betterment of the human condition. Others, such as James Ford, were ex-offenders themselves, who stood up and took action when they knew it was the right thing to do. If they hadn’t acted when they did, who knows how much more damage Khan could have done?

And they are not alone. From spontaneous volunteers who delayed their own escape to support others in the aftermath of the Manchester bombing, to Paul Dadge, who helped to coordinate response efforts in London following the 7/7 bombings, to those who helped their neighbours escape the recent wildfires in California, people have repeatedly put themselves on the line to protect others at great risk to themselves.

Why do we do this?

I was fortunate to hear a presentation from Dr Chris Cocking at the International Disaster Response Expo on the 4^th December, who discussed this phenomenon of spontaneous volunteerism and everyday heroism in crises in detail. He calls those that act to support others in these situations “zero responders”, in reference to the fact that they are active on a scene before the emergency services, or first-responders, arrive.

Dr Cocking, and collaborator Dr John Drury at the University of Sussex, have done significant work in the area of crowd response to disasters, and the psychological evidence for how people act in times of crisis is more positive than you might think. The fallacy of “mass panic” suggests that crowds respond chaotically and in a self-interested way in response to traumatic events. In reality, more often than not, bystanders and victims of terror attacks or disasters respond collectively, often remaining in danger themselves in order to support others.

It is very easy to look at the events of the 29^th November and to fall victim to the divisive politics that such acts are designed to elicit. When all we see are terror attacks, gang violence, and seemingly senseless criminal activity on our TV screens and phones, we can be forgiven for thinking that the default human condition is one of violence and destruction. But what Jack Merritt, Saskia Jones, and Paul Dadge demonstrate to us is that this is not the case. Humans are capable of almost unimaginable acts of horror, but that does not define who we are. As Jack and Saskia so firmly believed, even those that have done bad in the past have the potential to do good in the future. James Ford, the convicted murderer who helped to stop Usman Khan from harming more people on London Bridge, might just be a manifestation of that belief.

Jack Merritt’s father said after his son’s death that Jack believed fundamentally in the goodness of the human spirit. So should we all. Acts of terror are designed to divide us, to scare us, and to make us think that there is nothing we can do to prevent tragedy from befalling us. But for every misguided terror advocate there are many more ordinary people who simply want to help.

I have no doubt that whilst those members of the public were fighting off Usman Khan, there were many more helpers tending to the wounded in the fish market, supporting those who were distressed, calling the emergency services and keeping others informed of the area where the danger was. For every Usman Khan, there is a Lukasz Koczocik, a Stevie Hurst, or a Thomas Gray. For every hate preacher spouting an ideology of division and death there is a Jack Merritt or Saskia Jones. For every unspeakable act of horror, there are a dozen quiet, unspoken and unrecognised acts of kindness.

As more details unfold regarding the events and people involved in this shocking attack, we should consider what this means for all of us. Are we agents of violence and anger, fuelled by hatred rather than by reality, or are we believers in the strength of humans to achieve the greater good?

Like James Ford, do we have the capacity to be both?

Jack Merritt and Saskia Jones believed that he, a violent convicted murderer, could become more than that. For a few short minutes in the context of chaos in the Fishmonger’s Hall at London Bridge, he was. Does that absolve him of his crimes? Absolutely not. Does that mean that he was any less of a hero in that particular instant than the other members of the public who threw themselves into harms way? I don’t know. But I do know that it complicates what we mean when we call someone a hero. It leaves us with uncomfortable questions about the very nature of humankind. It leaves us no closer to an answer as to what we are or why we do what we do, but I believe that Jack and Saskia were carving out an answer in their actions and with their words. It is up to us to follow their path.

In a world that feels increasingly hostile and dangerous, we should take a step back and think about what we really believe in. We must examine why people can be driven to commit such abhorrent acts of violence against those that do not deserve it. But we must also acknowledge that in the worst of times, occasionally we can catch a glimpse of the very best of us.

When there is a tendency to fear and distrust those that we do not know or whose culture we do not understand, we must push back against that with all our might. When it feels as though there is nothing that can be done to help in a scary and desperate situation, we must try to do something anyway. Social psychology tells us that most of us will.

In a world that fixates on anger and violence, we must be kind. And we must aggressively, unapologetically, believe in the kindness of others.

The Ticking Time-Bomb In Europe

Earlier this month, France’s Emmanuel Macron warned of a “ticking time-bomb” in Europe. Referring to Bosnia-Herzegovina, he stated that the country was the greatest threat to Europe in the Balkans, due to the “problem of returning Jihadists” from Syria and Iraq. Following France’s successful blockage of negotiations for North Macedonia and Albania to start the EU accession process, Macron intimated that in fact it was not these countries – both with large Muslim populations – that posed a threat to the Union, but Bosnia-Herzegovina.

In the wake of political uproar in Britain and France over their own returning Jihadist populations – most notably the furore over the potential return of British school-girl Shamima Begum and calls from the families of French Jihadists to allow safe return for their family members as Bashar Al-Assad began to retake land across Syria – it seems strange for Macron to focus his attention on the small Balkan state. Certainly, as Muhamed Jusic, a spokesman for Bosnia’s Muslim community, stated in response to Macron “Some 300 Bosnian citizens, most of them women and children, went to the battlefields in Syria and Iraq compared to over 1,900 French”. It was reported in 2015 that France held the dubious title of being Europe’s largest exporter of jihadists. Again, with home-grown Syrian networks being linked to the Paris attacks, the threat of returning fighters to France seems much greater than the threat of returning fighters in Bosnia-Herzegovina, which despite ongoing ethnic tension has suffered very few terror attacks and in fact had seemingly managed to stem the tide of fighters travelling to and from Syria by 2016. (NB: I should also note here that the figures quoted are of French and Bosnian citizens who have gone to fight in Syria – these are not the figures for those fighters working with ISIS, Al Qaeda, or other fundamentalist radical groups – which could be much smaller).

The comparatively low number of Bosnian fighters compared with French does not detract from the overall point that Macron was trying to make with his comments. In reality, this statement was not really about returning fighters at all. There may be more Syrian fighters born in France and the UK than in Bosnia-Herzegovina, but BiH is a majority-Muslim country. And, as Macron has made clear with his blockage of North Macedonian and Albanian accession to the EU, countries with a prevalent Muslim identity are not to be considered part of Europe. Fortress Europe has spent a lot of money and sacrificed a lot of lives to make sure that refugees and migrants, many of them Muslim, are not allowed entry. South-Eastern European countries that share a belief system that differs from the Central and Western European norm have been extended the same courtesy.

These two policies have recently come to a head in a perfect storm of human suffering in Bosnia-Herzegovina. As refugees and migrants from the Middle East, Central Asia, and North Africa make their way towards the supposed safety of Europe they have found themselves trapped in camps in the rural north of Bosnia. Unable to enter Croatia (a predominantly Christian country, sharing “European values” and welcomed into the EU in 2013), the migrants meet the end of their journey in overcrowded, underserviced camps, desperately unprepared for winter and surrounded by landmines (an uncomfortable reminder of the two-decade old violence of BiH, in which the Muslim Bosniak population suffered genocide at the hands of Serb ethno-nationalist Ratko Mladic). With much less press coverage than the equally inhumane camps in Lesbos, aid agencies struggle to provide for the growing population of transitory migrants in a country already stretched to the limit to reach the needs of its own people.  

As Macron’s government struggles with how to define it’s own relationship with Islam – suffering a wave of home-grown terrorist attacks, banning the burqa (and later the “burkini”), then warning against stigmatising Islam or equating the religion with terrorism, and most recently turning its attention to Bosnia-Herzegovina as a threat to European peace and stability – BiH has quietly gone about repairing community ties between its Bosniak Muslim community and their former aggressors, following the worst incidence of ethno-nationalist violence in Europe since the end of World War Two. As France, and Europe more widely, struggles with questions of national identity, Bosnia-Herzegovina serves as a living, breathing, pilot project for peaceful co-existence in the aftermath of unimaginable violence.

If Macron was truly concerned about the threat of returning Jihadists, he would focus his attention on the much larger number of western European fighters who are currently fleeing Syria as the tyrant Bashar al-Assad reasserts his authority. If he truly was concerned about radicalisation in Bosnia-Herzegovina itself, he would do much more to alleviate the poverty and disenfranchisement still felt by many rural populations across the country. He would also encourage other EU states to support the refugees currently stranded in inhumane conditions as the bitter Balkan winter rolls in. He would stop the dangerous rhetoric and take action to improve the quality of life of groups that are scared, angry, and looking for a support network. He would open his arms, not close his mind.

Macron is unfortunately not alone in this dangerous misrepresentation of the realities of life in the furthest corners of Europe. Tribalism and Islamaphobia are driving ever-deepening divisions not just in France, but in the UK and the rest of the continent. Bosnia-Herzegovina is a country that knows all too well the dangers of letting the rhetoric of division spiral out of control. To be targeted by one of the key players in Europe because they do not fit the mould of what a European country “should be” must feel like several steps in the wrong direction.

Words matter, and framing a country still healing from bloody conflict as a threat, especially when the targeted population were the victims of a brutal genocide, is more than a throw-away comment.

Bosnia-Herzegovina continues its rocky journey towards sustainable peace, in extremely difficult circumstances and struggling with a new crop of refugees and migrants fleeing violence that mirrors the recent memories of many ordinary Bosnians. As it looks to the beacon of the European Union for support, it finds itself alone and in the cold.

The misplaced fears of Macron are symptomatic of a Europe obsessed with protecting its borders at a time of deep re-evaluation of its own identity. The threat of terror attacks and hate crimes in the western European states remains high, and fear abounds in both migrant and local populations. Politicians have for too long scapegoated “otherness” as a threat to national interests, and for many, turning people against each other has proven a successful tactic to gain and hold power. When we fear outsider groups, we fail to turn our attention to those in power who can cause us real harm. But the people of Bosnia-Herzegovina could already have told us that, if we had listened and learned from their story.

And still we refuse to listen.

Instead of the hoped-for support of an inclusive international community in Europe, the ticking time-bomb of reactionary ethno-nationalism continues to spread across the continent.