A photojournalist was gunned down on 14 April in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais. Photographer Walgney Assis Carvalho was shot in the back during a day spent fishing in the town of Coronel Fabriciano.
According to the police, Carvalho was accosted by a hooded man on a motorcycle who shot him several times before fleeing. The crime has been linked to the killing of a radio presenter last March.
Police have not confirmed the cause of the crime. However, state deputy Durval Ângelo, who is president of the Human Rights Committee for Minas Gerais’s Legislative Assembly, posted on Twitter that the photographer had information about the shooting of radio presenter Rodrigo Neto, who was killed in the town of Ipatinga on 8 March.
Although Neto’s murder remains unsolved, state deputy Ângelo claims the presenter had given Carvalho information about policemen involved in crimes on the Ipatinga area. The case is still being investigated by police.
Walgney Carvalho worked freelance for 5 years at Vale do Aço’s Police desk. Rodrigo Neto had started working on the same newspaper one week before getting killed.
Thangyat is a traditional form of entertainment performed for Burma’s New Year Thingyan Water Festival (taking place this week), made up of chanted satirical sketches with dance and percussion. The performances highlight all the things that went wrong in the past year, in the hope of avoiding repeating the same mistakes in the year to come. Thangyat was banned by the military government after the uprising in 1988 and was kept alive in exile before being allowed back last year.
Thangyat troupes, which can be up to 70 people strong, compete for cash prizes in heats leading up to the festival. The finalists perform on the main stage and the winner is announced on New Year’s Day. This year Sky Net, a new independent TV company, has sponsored the Thangyat competition and will broadcast it nationwide.
— The first day of this year’s Thingyan Water Festival and Myanmar new year – Thet Htoo / Demotix
Sky Net required all participating teams to submit their scripts or videos of their work so they could vet the material. Index met members of one troupe that had been banned from taking part.
The performers we met from the banned troupe believed Sky Net was more sensitive to political satire than the government, and were shocked and angry at being excluded. They thought that they had been banned for the generally political nature of their performance, rather than because they ventured into particular no-go zones. The troupe is going ahead with their performance anyway but their shows will not be broadcast; they are making their own documentary instead.
In Mandalay pre-censorship remains in the hands of city authorities and when I was there earlier in the week the first ever all-woman Thangyat ensemble was waiting to hear back from the censors. The women are teachers and students from a college in the city who have formed a group to preserve Burmese traditions — in particular traditional dress for women.
I was lucky enough to see an early rehearsal of this group, which took place in a monastery in a strange wilderness district of the city where huge, gated mansions mainly built for the Chinese buyers, are springing up around the monastery compound. The women, accompanied for the rehearsal by two percussionists, were working in an ornate communal building without walls and very young monks crowded in to hear the women rehearse.
Their performance is a passionate litany of biting satire that highlights the threats to Burmese culture, traditional life-style, and environment from business interests, with Chinese influence particularly targeted. The contentious Letpadaung Copper Mine, deforestation and the suspended Myetsone damn project were all targets. I heard that they are determined to perform their show as it is, whatever the censors say.
That Thangyat will be part of the celebrations again after 25 years is a sign of the times — and reveals the opening up of space for freedom of expression in Burma. But the fact that the comeback is being so closely scrutinised by both political and corporate interests illustrates the power of Thangyat to hit where it hurts.
As government pre-censorship is to some extent loosening its grip on arts and entertainment in Burma, as it appears to be, it is interesting to see corporate censorship stepping comfortably into its shoes. And as corporate censorship is a global phenomenon, it is something that artists all over the world, not just here in Burma, are increasingly concerned about.
Thangyat is a traditional form of entertainment performed for Burma’s New Year Thingyan Water Festival (taking place this week), made up of chanted satirical sketches with dance and percussion. The performances highlight all the things that went wrong in the past year, in the hope of avoiding repeating the same mistakes in the year to come. Thangyat was banned by the military government after the uprising in 1988 and was kept alive in exile before being allowed back last year.
Thangyat troupes, which can be up to 70 people strong, compete for cash prizes in heats leading up to the festival. The finalists perform on the main stage and the winner is announced on New Year’s Day. This year Sky Net, a new independent TV company, has sponsored the Thangyat competition and will broadcast it nationwide.
— The first day of this year’s Thingyan Water Festival and Myanmar new year – Thet Htoo / Demotix
Sky Net required all participating teams to submit their scripts or videos of their work so they could vet the material. Index met members of one troupe that had been banned from taking part.
The performers we met from the banned troupe believed Sky Net was more sensitive to political satire than the government, and were shocked and angry at being excluded. They thought that they had been banned for the generally political nature of their performance, rather than because they ventured into particular no-go zones. The troupe is going ahead with their performance anyway but their shows will not be broadcast; they are making their own documentary instead.
In Mandalay pre-censorship remains in the hands of city authorities and when I was there earlier in the week the first ever all-woman Thangyat ensemble was waiting to hear back from the censors. The women are teachers and students from a college in the city who have formed a group to preserve Burmese traditions — in particular traditional dress for women.
I was lucky enough to see an early rehearsal of this group, which took place in a monastery in a strange wilderness district of the city where huge, gated mansions mainly built for the Chinese buyers, are springing up around the monastery compound. The women, accompanied for the rehearsal by two percussionists, were working in an ornate communal building without walls and very young monks crowded in to hear the women rehearse.
Their performance is a passionate litany of biting satire that highlights the threats to Burmese culture, traditional life-style, and environment from business interests, with Chinese influence particularly targeted. The contentious Letpadaung Copper Mine, deforestation and the suspended Myetsone damn project were all targets. I heard that they are determined to perform their show as it is, whatever the censors say.
That Thangyat will be part of the celebrations again after 25 years is a sign of the times — and reveals the opening up of space for freedom of expression in Burma. But the fact that the comeback is being so closely scrutinised by both political and corporate interests illustrates the power of Thangyat to hit where it hurts.
As government pre-censorship is to some extent loosening its grip on arts and entertainment in Burma, as it appears to be, it is interesting to see corporate censorship stepping comfortably into its shoes. And as corporate censorship is a global phenomenon, it is something that artists all over the world, not just here in Burma, are increasingly concerned about.
Poverty can restrict your access to basic human rights. This is neither a controversial nor revolutionary statement — it is clear that access to food and shelter is diminished by poverty. But poverty also blocks the less tangible rights many of us nonetheless take for granted, among them, the right to freedom of expression.
Poverty can be a very powerful barrier to accessing the abilities and tools to communicate your interests, ideas and needs, and as such, your rights to fully participate in society. This lack of access to freedom of expression manifests itself in a number of different areas, including in education, online and in the arts.
Poverty remains the biggest block to access to education, with young people from the poorest households globally being three times as likely to be out of school compared to the richest households. Direct costs connected to education, such as tuition fees, school materials, uniforms and transportation can constitute huge barriers to education. In addition to this, many poor people live in rural areas with fewer schools. For poor families there can also be significant opportunity costs connected to sending children to school rather than work. Among other things, this explains the higher levels of illiteracy among the poor globally. The damaging effect illiteracy has on your ability to express yourself, and subsequently fully participate in civil society, cannot be overstated. If you can’t read newspapers, write to your politicians or even fill out the necessary paperwork to apply for national identification documents to vote, your voice is severely limited. This is without even considering the many costs connected to the above.
But poverty doesn’t only block participation offline. The internet, mobile phones and other modern communication tools provide some of the biggest potential platforms to freedom of expression. New technology can be used to take part in debates, organise large-scale campaigns, monitor elections and hold those in power to account. However, the gap between rich and poor in this sector is big enough to warrant its own term — the digital divide. While developed states can boast 71.6 internet users per 100 inhabitants, the corresponding figure for developing states is only 21.1. On the African continent it drops 9.6/100. This phenomenon also exists within states, along gender, geographical social, and significantly, financial lines. The latest figures from the UK show that 15 per cent of the population has never used the Internet. Of those, 15 per cent cite equipment costs as a reason; while 14 per cent cite access costs. Tellingly, 5.7 per cent of those earning less than £200 per week had never used the internet, while the corresponding figures for those earning £600 and above is less than 1 per cent.
Less has been said about access to artistic freedom of expression among poor people in development terms. However, the Millennium Development Goal Achievement Fund has recognised access to culture and arts as a significant factor in combating poverty. A study by the European Commission also concluded that cultural activities can be instrumental in helping people overcome poverty and social exclusion, through “building skills and self-confidence” and “enhancing self-esteem and identity”. The same study stated the groups like the long-term unemployed and poor families are often excluded from access to and participation in arts and cultural activities. Barriers include basic costs, as well as the daily struggle of surviving leaving little spare time to participate in cultural activities.
This example cuts to the core of the problem. As explained above, poverty often means that you generally have fewer channels through which to communicate your interests on international, national or even local levels. While lack of freedom of expression is a violation of human rights in itself, this inability to raise your voice and speak for yourself can have devastating spill-over effects. As the UN Communication for Development UN Communication for Development panel pointed out in 2004, “challenges of poverty alleviation (…) must be designed and implemented with active participation of the communities in question”. How can the programmes meant to help the poor hope to effectively do that, if the poor themselves do not have a say in them? The lack of participation in policies that affect them and their communities means poor people are made vulnerable to misguided policy-making misguided policy-making . Or, as the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights put it in a recent statement: “Lack of participation in decision-making is thus a defining feature and cause of poverty, rather than just its consequence.” The outcome is that the people with potentially the most to gain from freedom of expression are the ones who lack the access to it.
The idea that freedom of expression can help lift people out of poverty is has been recognised in development circles for decades, often masked in less politically charged development jargon like “voice”, “empowerment” and “participation”. But action based on this idea has left much to be desired. The Millennium Development Goals, widely recognised as the biggest global push to eradicate poverty, have thus far put very little focus on freedom of expression. The term isn’t included once in the MDG progress reports from 2005 to 2012.
However, there are reasons to be cautiously positive about recent progress on the matter. In 2012, the UN appointed a high-level panel to determine a new development agenda to take over from the MDGs when they “run out” in 2015. A number of actors involved in this process have signalled they would like an increased focus on human rights human rights, among other things calling for media freedom to be included in the agenda. The Institute of Development Studies also recently launched their Participate project which aims to “put cameras in the hands of the poor”, to have their own stories be part of the post-2015 development agenda. DFID, USAID and the Swedish government are launching Making All Voices Count, a project to help the global poor access new technology to help them participate in society and the political process. These are important steps, but the momentum must be maintained.
