Naivism that characterizes much of global activism

Alex de Waal (ed.): Advocacy in Conflict: Critical Perspectives on Transnational Activism. London, Zed Books

Could it be wrong, under any circumstances, to counter fanatical guerrilla groups and repressive regimes? And there are cases where working for basic human rights for is correct? These are not the authors' questions Advocacy in Conflict answers directly – but if we can allow ourselves to make the message in the book a bit more tabloid and streamlined, it is obvious that most of them are leaning towards a "yes".
However, the purpose of the book is precisely to make us see this topic in a less tabloid and streamlined manner. If the authors wobble when describing the value of international humanitarian campaigns, it is because they find in this area more gray than black and white. Many cases that for a Western audience appear to be crystal clear human rights violations – where one separates the good guys from the bad guys with a manic flip – turns out to be far more complex when you get into them.
The core argument of the book is that the new activist movements that have evolved over the past decades "create strategies that seek to meet the marketing requirements that apply to Western audiences, in order to achieve the tactical success of Western governments (especially those in the United States). This has led to a weakening or even failure of important key principles ”. What has been lost, they believe, is the willingness to take on the perspective of those affected, the ability to make room for disparate narratives, the interest in underlying causes and motives, and the desire for strategic change rather than superficial victories. There is something of a misery description we are served, but a respectable number of case studies – including the Gaza conflict, Burma's struggle for democracy, the Congolese mineral conflict, The Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA), land grabbing and international arms trade – helps give the analysis meat on the legs.

A political project. The book is fine on its own two feet, but I would still like to highlight two other books that can provide the critique that is presented in Advocacy in Conflict a broader context. The first is The Last Utopia (2010), in which the historian Samuel Moyn argues against a widespread belief that human rights are to be understood as universal and timeless. This is ahistorical and anachronistic, claims Moyn, who shows that human rights were a political project that emerged at a certain point in history, more specifically in the 1970s, much thanks to Jimmy Carter's presidential campaign. Moyn's book forms an important background for the critique of contemporary transnational activism, because it strikes a chord with the notion that those who march under the banner of goodness always do something good. It is not enough to trumpet "human rights!", As if it were a mantra with immediate and violent effect. Rather, it is the duty of everyone who interferes with other people business to familiarize themselves well with the matter. And they are obliged to interfere on the terms of those affected. But with that, activism becomes far more difficult – because whose premises should one take as a basis? A conflict is always a conflict between the parties – and if it is to be anything more than empty talk, the seemingly innocent human rights activism must also commit itself to a political content.
Another supplement is Lilie Chouliarakis The Ironic Spectator (2013), where the author claims that this type of activism is often more about the image the sender can build at home than about the effect it may have in the world. This tendency has gone so far, Chouliaraki claims, that we are now in a "post-humanitarian" phase. The name suggests that proper humanitarian actions quickly become difficult when the person who performs them really cares most about himself – then the Good Samaritan becomes a narcissistic Samaritan instead.

The Gaza conflict, Burma's struggle for democracy, the mineral conflicts in the Congo, The Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA), land grabbing and international arms trade

The contributions in Advocacy in Conflict leans explicitly on such perspectives, and puts them together into a unified view of the new activist movements. Much of this activism is most of all about expressing our own conscience, the authors of the book argue. It is never innocent – but always political. Even such purposes as it formally shines through – such as human rights – are to be understood as political party contributions. Interventions, of any kind, have consequences you have no idea about – which you are at least completely unaware of if you take a two-part worldview as your starting point.

Kony2012. Let's look at an example, namely Kony2012. The example is not chosen at random. The authors refer to this campaign repeatedly throughout the book, and it is also devoted to a separate chapter. Perhaps because it is one of the most well-known campaigns of its kind – a survey documented that more than half of American young adults knew about it – and because it so well illustrates the paradoxical nature of the new activism. Behind the campaign was a group from California who called themselves "Invisible Children", whose stated goal was "to make Kony famous". The logic was obvious that if enough Americans became aware of Kony's atrocities, they would put pressure on their own government, which in turn would have to consider intervening in Uganda. The spearhead of the campaign was filmmaker Jason Russell, who – driven by moral outrage over the guerrilla leader's brutality – portrayed the fight against Kony almost as his own personal vendetta. The rhetoric was pompous enough: "If we succeed, we change the course of history."
According to chapter author Mareike Schomerus, Kony2012 shows all the pitfalls of this type of activism. First of all, you have the short duration; it is already signaled in the name. But also in other ways, this campaign seems tailored for a media landscape that adds up to a fast, broad and immediately catchy – but always equally perishable – content. The same media landscape does not invite one to hold attention, and in this case it also applied to the activists themselves: In late 2014, Invisible Children announced that the group would be dissolved. The reason was not that the campaign had been successful, and that Kony was now behind bars: Kony was as alive and active as before, and according to Schomerus, Kony2012 possibly contributed to making the conflict even more difficult. No, Invisible Children was to be disbanded because the campaign had met with so much opposition from people who knew the conditions on the ground in Uganda.
The second is precisely about who the campaign takes as addressee, and who is included as votes. Kony2012 was first and foremost an expression created by Americans, for Americans. The whole purpose was to get the American authorities to act, which of course is problematic in itself, as it would involve intervening in another country's affairs – something you can not do like that without further ado. Schomerus also shows how the Ugandan voices were given a marginal place in the campaign. For example, at one point an event was organized in Washington DC, where some of the Ugandans who were in the film were also filmed on stage. However, it was striking how little they said, Schomerus points out; they were with more like patching, which presumably would make it all seem authentic.

By making a person like Kony known, one can probably achieve the same effect as when forcing a troll into the light. But in fact this is not true.

Another problematic aspect was the ambition to make Kony famous. It may seem intuitively correct that someone who commits atrocities does not want celebrity status. By making a person like Kony known, one can probably achieve the same effect as when forcing a troll into the light. But in fact this is not true. It is possible to be known over great geographical distances and over a long historical time exactly for their cruelty, without anyone wanting to stick sticks in your wheels. The problem here is to personify conflicts that are really about far more than one person. Kony2012 made the conflict almost exclusively about Joseph Kony. And although no one believes that Kony represents "the Ugandan in the street", it should be just as obvious that he is a party to a conflict that extends far beyond his person.
Finally, Kony2012 is an example of a counterproductive streamlining of the message. The campaign showed no willingness to understand where Kony's revolt came from – nor would it address the Ugandan authorities' abuse of its own people. What Kony2012 and many similar campaigns lack, Schomerus claims, is "a credible story that emphasizes complexity both in terms of causes and in terms of solutions".
Movements such as Kony2012 have been able to experience what looks like success, because they have been able to sail under the supposedly timeless flag of human rights. If we want to live the naivety that characterizes much of global activism, we must not only insist that the personified is political, but also that the timeless is historical.

Kristian Bjørkdahl is a literary critic in Ny Tid.
kristianbjorkdahl@icloud.com