Update! $1,580 raised so far for The Gaza Fund at Dalia Association!
Thanks and hugs to Marga Kapka, Dorothy Bennoune, Pat Walsh, Anonymous, Carolyn Quffa, Mary Onorato, Vicki Tamoush, and Pauline Solomon. With my sincere appreciation, I matched your contributions.
Time seems to accelerate as I approach my fiftieth birthday, intensifying my gratitude for a life with purpose but also highlighting all that is still undone in this sick, beautiful world. There is no shortage of causes to work for, but one that has stolen my heart is Gaza.
Over one-and-one-half million human beings are locked in the Gaza Strip, a majority of whom are children and youth. Like many other Palestinians, they are denied the right to earn a living, denied the right to enjoy their own water and other natural resources, denied the right to move around for educational or recreational opportunities, and denied the right to compete fairly with others to achieve their dreams.
For this reason, I’ve decided to celebrate my birthday on May 5, 2014 by asking friends, family, and folks of conscience “out there in the world” to help me make a small dent in the inhuman and wasteful siege on Gaza. More specifically, I am asking you to do three things:
1-Make a contribution of any size into a “Gaza Fund” that I am opening at Dalia Association, Palestine’s community foundation. (Even better if you make your contribution monthly, quarterly or annually.) Be sure to write “Earmarked for Gaza” at the top of the credit card form.
But because we know that money alone doesn’t solve anything, I ask that you ALSO…
2-Take at least one political action to help lift the siege on Gaza. I suggest a letter or email to a political representative asking him or her to bring the urgency of the siege into the governmental debate.
And because we know that one-time political actions aren’t enough and we really need a sustained effort, I ask that you ALSO…
3-Join an organization or sign up for a newsletter so that you will stay informed about developments relating to Gaza and Palestine in the long term, not just when there’s bad news that reaches the front pages.
I’m asking for a lot, but because I believe that birthdays (and everyday in between) are a time for giving, not just receiving, I want to give you a gift, too. I will release a short, video-taped interview with a person from Gaza every day in the weeks leading up to my birthday. You will enjoy hearing directly from Gazans about the issues they care about, about their daily lives, and about what they wish the world would understand.
Please give your own suggestions about political actions to take and organizations to join in the comments section.
Please sign up for my newsletter to be informed about new videos and other articles I write related to Gaza, Palestine, international aid, development, philanthropy, and occupation.
Please spread the word about my birthday campaign to your Facebook friends, Twitter followers, YouTube subscribers, and other networks.
Please check out Dalia Association and sign up for their newsletter to be kept informed about Palestinian-led development and the opening of the new Gaza Fund.
And please have a really happy 2014.
An Alternative to International Aid
This article first appeared on Open Democracy. It is also available in Arabic, Spanish and Hebrew.
The global proliferation of community foundations is no accident. Community philanthropy is reclaiming traditions of sharing that have been undermined by individualism and materialism, and is simultaneously an act of resistance against neocolonial interference in the guise of “aid.” There is growing awareness among communities in the global South that dependence on international aid binds them to a system that favors Northern interests; increasingly, they consider “poverty” a construct created by those same interests and perpetuated through the aid system.
In the West Bank and Gaza Strip, international aid constitutes an estimated 36 percent of GDP, and there is literally no aspect of the economy that is independent of Israeli control and international influence. The Palestinian Authority (PA), a pseudo-government residual from the Oslo era, is the biggest beneficiary, with an estimated one-third of the Palestinian population dependent on the public payroll. As a result, the PA answers to international/Israeli orders, and has almost no accountability to local communities. Sadly, international NGOs fail to live up to their civil society mandate. Instead, they compete with local NGOs for funding, staff and beneficiaries. Add the approximately one billion US dollars per year of funding that goes through the United Nations, over which local people have very little influence, and the picture is complete: A massive, misguided, self-perpetuating “humanitarian” system that not only constrains local agency, but also undermines traditional systems for interdependence and self-reliance.
While critiques of international aid are becoming mainstream, there is still little awareness about community foundations as a viable alternative, even in thediscourse about funding for human rights. In responding to local challenges and opportunities, community foundations and other community philanthropic organizations offer communities a dignified and creative way to organize their resources towards collective self-reliance for generations to come.
Palestine’s community foundation, Dalia Association, grew out of two challenges: continued Israeli occupation, dispossession, and colonization; and dependence on politically-restricted international aid. Dalia’s founders perceived that both these forces deny Palestinians the right to control their own development agenda. Today, Dalia’s work is organized around a concept that has evolved through our years of work: self-determination in development. The concept of self-determination in development frames self-reliance in human rights terms and links the right to development with the Palestinian national cause.
In fact, when I assembled the founders back in 2007, I didn’t fully grasp how aid colluded with Israeli occupation, dispossession and colonization. I was focused solely on money. “If only Palestinians had their own money,” I thought, “…the wasteful, irrelevant and unsustainable activities posited as ‘post conflict development’ would stop.” But my group of co-founders quickly disabused me of my naïve and simplistic approach. Self-determination is not about having a big endowment. It’s about responsibly and intentionally utilizing the resources we have, mobilizing other resources by modeling credible, inspiring practice, and working transparently, democratically and accountably to pursue our own priorities over the long haul.
In the last seven years, Dalia’s work has grown and flourished with experimentation in three related pillars. The first pillar of Dalia’s work is an innovative, unrestricted small grants process we call “community-controlled grantmaking.” Dalia mobilizes resources for grassroots community groups in villages and refugee camps, but we don’t make grants like a donor. Instead, we facilitate democratic and transparent community decision-making by the local community. They decide who gets grants and how much each grant consists of. A committee comprised of community members is formed to monitor grantees to ensure they work with integrity and for the good of the community at large, not for any factional, family or personal interest. Grantees mobilize local resources to expand their projects, and Dalia provides constant and on-gong support in the form of coaching on planning, budgeting, procurement, marketing, etc. In this way, small amounts of money can transform a whole community: local civil society is strengthened in its commitment and ability to respond to local priorities, and the community practices the right and responsibility to hold civil society groups accountable and support them with local resources.
The second pillar of Dalia’s work is philanthropy development. We recognize the need to expand the culture of philanthropy beyond religiously-motivated giving and charity to include support for the sustainability of local institutions. We also recognize the need to build systems to make local, diaspora and private sector philanthropy safer, cheaper and more credible. The challenges are enormous: lack of trust in local institutions, underdeveloped legal and regulatory frameworks, and the chilling effect of the war on terrorism. But as a community foundation whose vision is to achieve independence over generations, Dalia is positioned to address these challenges no matter how long it takes. We are currently promoting the idea of “funds” in the name of companies, families, villages or causes. Unlike “donor advised funds” that are common in US foundations, these funds are a true partnership between contributors and the community. Contributors decide what to give (cash, materials, or services, in any combination) and they can engage as much or as little as they want with communities, but the communities are the ones to decide how to use their development resources. The challenge is to keep decision-making local, while encouraging contributors to engage beyond writing a check.
The third pillar—advocacy to reform international aid—has changed over time. Dalia has become more selective in its targets. Rather than attempting to influence major aid actors for whom Palestinian interests are clearly not a priority, like USAID, Dalia encourages Palestinians to refuse that type of funding and instead engage with (and thereby influence) international actors that practice true partnership and are motivated by human rights commitments.
In 2013, Dalia Association was recognized for its unique strategy when it won the Arcus Global Social Justice Prize, in part for this inspiring 10-minute film.
I still find that I have to explain Dalia’s work to people who are skeptical. Many of them can barely imagine a vibrant, independent and accountable civil society in Palestine, and the concept of an organization dedicated to helping other NGOs achieve sustainability and community accountability is even stranger. To those people, I like to explain Dalia’s work with a much simpler metaphor, the potluck. At a potluck, everyone brings what they can, however modest, but everyone feasts. Everyone is a giver; everyone is a receiver.
Just imagine if every one of the over 10 million Palestinians in the world, and other supporters of Palestinian rights, contributed whatever resources they can – money, ideas, contacts, materials, faith, culture, services – for the good of locally-controlled development in Palestine! A man in Chicago could donate computers to a school in Jerusalem. A woman in Gaza could translate a press release for an equal rights demonstration in Haifa. A company in Jenin could donate grant money for a women’s committee in a village near Hebron. A solidarity group in Spain could send occupational therapists to teach Gazans. A youth group in Jaffa could perform the poem of a refugee in Lebanon.
Dalia Association is a matchmaker, a motivator, a convener, and a hands-on supporter to ensure that resources are used effectively, with integrity and reported transparently in order to inspire further giving. Our vision for Palestinian development is one that re-weaves relationships among the disparate parts of the Palestinian community and offers every single person and group the opportunity to give.
A Response to Paul Farmer’s “Rethinking Aid”
This post originally appeared on WhyDev.org.
Perhaps I am skeptical because I live in Palestine among a people whose rights to self-determination have been denied for 65 years and who experience daily violence, theft of natural resources, impoverishment, inaccessibility of services – all while being among the largest per capita beneficiaries of international humanitarian and development aid. But from where I sit, I don’t see too much hope for post-2015 development, which is driven by a deceptively benign-sounding ideology that manages only to alleviate symptoms of disease that it simultaneously perpetuates.
I call the ideology “starting from scratch,” and it is especially disappointing to hear this ideology expressed by highly-regarded aid reformers like Paul Farmer. His recent article re-thinking foreign aid says that aid is needed to alleviate human suffering, and he calls for more aid to be delivered through local public systems. It’s a worthy-sounding argument, but it starts from scratch, ignoring the causes of continued vulnerability of children, of illiteracy, of inaccessibility of basic infrastructure and services.
Can we know how aid affects problems without also understanding what is causing the problems? Without analysis, not only of the historical roots of current problems, but also of the ways that need is recreated and perpetuated in the very fabric of today’s global society, we end up with an unexamined assumption that poverty just “is.” This implies that poverty is somehow innate or genetic to those who experience it. With that worldview, any effort to address poverty is going from nothing to something, from stasis to action, because we are “starting from scratch.”
But there is an alternative ideology. More and more aid critics and development justice activists espouse the view that development is an ordinary, instinctual, human process that, if allowed, will proceed naturally with the momentum of gravity and humanity. We are not “starting from scratch” but rather joining ongoing processes driven by inherent strengths and utilizing historically-nurtured assets and capacities. Working from this ideology, the task of the international development community should be first and foremost to get out of the way. The second task should be to stop others from getting in the way. Only then should the international development community embark upon the third task—to humbly inquire if there is any way they can help. I call this ideology “supporting responsibly,” and if taken to heart, this would require a fundamentally different approach to international “development” work.
Development actors would need to find the existing developmental energy–which means recognizing its value–analyze and confront the obstacles that impede those natural forces, and remove the obstacles (which will likely require them to give up privileges). This is political work, systemic work, and self-work. It is not comprised of conducting assessments, running workshops and producing reports. Working from the “supporting responsibly” ideology would require development actors to be self-reflective, power-aware, and sensitive listeners, never competing with, ignoring or looking down on “locals” and certainly not trying to transform them.
Sadly, Paul Farmer, like so many other well-intentioned development actors, seems to be caught in a trap of oblivious self-righteousness that I consider part of the problem. He says the phrase “Local solutions for local problems” is “a commonly encountered liberal piety of development work.” He explains: “Many problems originate outside of people’s own communities: most trade regimes, all epidemics, and just about anything to do with climate change.” This is true! But he goes on to argue that vaccines, pedagogic materials and shoes should not be manufactured locally. To me, this is a non sequitur. If Farmer admits the problems originate outside, then they should be solved outside (in other words, fix the trade regimes!) rather than alleviating the symptoms with externally imposed, short-term fixes, that enable the perpetrators to keep on causing damage.
Moreover, Farmer’s wrong-headed “starting from scratch” ideology leads him to say, “If we are able to strengthen in-country capacity so recipients can manage their own affairs, one day we will eliminate the need for anything other than partnerships.” But if he spoke from the “supporting responsibly” ideology, he would say, “If we stop actively and intentionally destroying in-country capacity, then surely recipients, like all human beings, can manage their own affairs, and until then, anything we do except in full partnership with locals will be contradictory to that goal.”
Without understanding aid-givers’ role in creating the problems they seek to address, then it’s impossible to assess if and how aid may be “helping.” To use a harsh analogy: Should home invaders pat themselves on the back and take credit for letting hostages eat from their own refrigerator?
The expiration of the Millennium Development Goals provides an opportunity for those who claim to care about development to think about what’s next. I suggest we think first about how we got to the state of inequality, unnecessary suffering, and climate devastation that we find ourselves in now.
Though you’ve never heard of Red-Dead, you should care
One advantage of living here in Palestine is that I often hear about problems or trends long before they hit the news. For example, one full year ago I proposed (unsuccessfully) to a fellowship program that I do a series of articles about Sudanese workers who live in Palestinian villages inside Israel. Few people knew about the phenomenon, but I saw them every time I visited my in-laws: young men selling themselves as day laborers, isolated and without support, their stories untold. Nowadays, coverage of asylum seekers in Israel and their poor treatment is front page news. I still haven’t seen anyone cover the Palestinian connection, though.
Today I want to raise a different issue that is similarly under-reported. Red-Dead is the nickname for the project, “Red Sea-Dead Sea Conveyance Project (RSDSCP),” a $10 billion World Bank project that will carry water from the Red Sea to refill the disappearing Dead Sea. The World Bank claims the project will solve many regional water and environmental problems; Palestinian water and environmental experts disagree. I learned about this project when I worked with EWASH, a coalition of international and local NGOs working on Palestinian water rights. And I found it shocking to learn that such a costly, region-changing, risky project is moving forward with so little global scrutiny.
It might sound technical and boring, but it’s important! The World Bank pushed this through in a very non-transparent way, and the Palestinian Authority signed on without the approval of the Palestinian community. Besides being a huge waste of money–unacceptable in world where there is no much need–the long-term consequences of Red-Dead on Palestinian rights and prospects for a just peace are huge. Rather than tell you myself, I asked a friend and expert, Ziyaad Yusef, to explain Red-Dead in a straightforward way.
The interview is 30 minutes and at the end he suggests you can get more information from these sites.
http://www.ewash.org/en/?view=79YOcy0nNs3Du69tjVnyyumIu1jfxPKNuunzXkRpKQNzUwJ8TQTG
http://www.alternativenews.org/english/images/stories/PDF/COGAT.pdf
Please share your comments here, and please spread the word widely. We can still stop this harmful project. And we must.
Passing Judgment on International Aid: A Palestinian Community Court
This article was published in This Week in Palestine.
While the legally enshrined human right to self-determination has long been recognised as central to the Palestinian struggle, the human right to development – declared in a UN General Assembly resolution in 1986 and reaffirmed many times since – has not received the attention it deserves. Taken together, these two human rights suggest that Palestinians have a right to determine their own development agenda and to control the resources needed to implement it.
The formulation is new, but the essence of the “right to self-determination in development” is already incorporated into much of the global discourse on improving international development. Yet when development and aid actors talk about local ownership, results, transparency, and mutual accountability, they talk about them in terms of industry standards. Without invoking legal rights and obligations, these standards are impotent.
Many Palestinians, like other aid-receiving peoples, voice complaints about international aid policies and practices, yet few frame the problems in terms of violations of human rights. And since there is no repository for these complaints and no mechanism to investigate issues or develop collective awareness of them, complainants have no recourse except to submit grievances to each individual agency. There is no mechanism for individual or collective accountability.
If a mechanism existed whereby Palestinians could constructively raise their voices about violations of their rights in the context of international aid, and if information about persistent or egregious violations was made public, then Palestinian civil society would be empowered to pressure international aid actors for change. Alternatively, they could refuse certain kinds of aid. The very process of proactively making informed, collective decisions would challenge power imbalances with international actors and advance Palestinian efforts to claim their right to self-determination in development. This is the experience of Dalia Association, which has advocated reform of international aid over several years.
An independent Palestinian “community court” on international aid could constitute that mechanism. The community court could receive, investigate, and rule on a wide range of complaints that involve aid to Palestinians, bringing problems related to international aid under Palestinian scrutiny using international legal frameworks and local priorities. A sceptic might ask: What does criticism of the relevance of a UN agency’s mandate have in common with an accusation of unfairness in a government’s procurement policy, a complaint of waste by an international NGO, or the protest of a person who cannot afford to rent in a Jerusalem neighbourhood because of inflation caused by internationals? From the local perspective, and in a historical context, the source of these complaints is likely the same – unchecked international interference in the name of “development” and an absence of accountability to local communities for both intended and unintended outcomes.
A local mechanism such as a community court could enable Palestinians to speak, not as mere recipients of services, but as global citizens on a par with other global citizens, and as rights-holders in relation to duty bearers. Rather than relying solely on criteria of best professional practice developed by international actors, they could refer to international human rights law, international standards and mechanisms, and could create their own criteria – drawing on the presumption that Palestinians themselves have the right to judge the value of development assistance.
The community court would derive its legitimacy from popular participation; the jury would be comprised not of appointed experts, but of local people from diverse backgrounds who elect to participate. The community court would generate legal opinions and make systemic recommendations. It could also act as a dispute resolution mechanism and seek redress in the form of compensation, rehabilitation, and guarantees of non-recurrence. Given its emancipatory objectives, the ambit of the community court would be to seek justice rather than to act as a neutral broker.
In sum, the proposed Palestinian community court would function as a rights-claiming mechanism. It would accomplish a major goal simply by dislodging the international aid community and its agents as the sole arbiters of good practice. Although lacking powers of enforcement, a community court may impose sanctions that could reverberate on the reputation of international actors. Also, donors and international NGOs may be swayed to reform by the potential threat of boycott by local partners.
The impact of the community court would be to promote engagement by Palestinians in rights-claiming by raising awareness of international human rights law. Informed with facts and analysis, Palestinians would be empowered to act collectively and assert themselves as rights-holders in relation to those international actors who, by international law, have a duty to ensure the protection of Palestinian rights. Participation is both the means and the ends.
A community court could create a database of complaints that would enable scrutiny of the behaviour of international aid actors, the evidence they rely on, documentation of the impact on local people, and their analysis of law. This process in itself would clarify and expand Palestinian expectations of “duty bearers” and define their responsibilities in practical terms, without which they could not be effectively held accountable. In fact, a Palestine community court could be considered an innovation in rights-claiming through its reliance on the rights to participation, assembly, information, and association. It would also enable the pursuit of other rights guaranteed to Palestinians under international human rights law such as the right to development and to self-determination.
It is time that we recognise that change in this inertial global system will not come from the system itself, no matter how many conferences are convened, how many experts are hired, or how many reports are produced. Palestinians and other aid recipients around the world must speak out about their experiences and empower themselves to be the arbiters of which forms of international assistance are acceptable.
20 years since Oslo (Perspectives – Issue #5, December 2013)
Download the 106 page book here. According to the Heinrich Boll Stiftung, the publisher:
“This is not an attempt to provide a complete or “objective” review of the Oslo-process, but to provide space for on-the-ground analysis by Palestinian writers, thinkers and politicians of very different backgrounds. All authors express solely their personal views; the contributions do not represent the opinion of the Heinrich-Böll-Foundation. However we hope that this volume can contribute to rethinking the Oslo-framework and those elements, which have proven to prolong the conflict instead of delivering a historic compromise so urgently needed to allow security, peace and dignity for all citizens in the region.”
My chapter, “Humanitarian Aid and the Oslo Process” starts on p. 74, amidst a truly impressive line up of authors.
It will be easy to read this book and conclude that the Oslo Peace Process didn’t work and should be laid to rest. What will be hard is figuring out how to move forward from here.
No shortage of international complicity with Israeli occupation
The folks over at openDemocracy asked me to comment on “Funding Cannot Stop Human Rights Abuses” by Lori Allen. It was an excellent article, but of course I can always find something to critique.
In my response, I say, “Lori Allen concludes that international aid to Palestine should not be falsely posited as a means to curtail Israeli human rights violations. I couldn’t agree more! However, her argument would be stronger if she didn’t conflate three distinct problems with international aid that, while mutually reinforcing, are better addressed one by one, and in a more nuanced way.”
Read the whole analysis here.
Women: Dealing With the Past
It was a tremendous honor to be invited by the impressive and inspirational Community Foundation for Northern Ireland to speak at a learning workshop in Belfast.
My talk, intentionally provocative, was supposed to give an outside perspective on dialogue to women on both sides of the conflict in Northern Ireland–women who have been meeting over time to work on reconciliation.
I hope I communicated that while there is certainly a time for parties in conflict to talk, there is also a time when we should refuse to talk.
For Palestinians who are suffering from fake “negotiations” that are clearly intended only to prolong the status quo, there is reason to refuse to talk. As long as Israel has no intention of enabling a just, sustainable solution, then boycott tactics make much more sense.
I also want to thank the amazing folks at Community Foundation for Northern Ireland for taking me on a truly life-changing political tour of Belfast. Among other things, I learned that Belfast is full of walls — reminiscent of Israel’s Annexation Wall — and they are called “peace walls!”
It might sound crazy, but I look forward to the day when everyone who suffered in this long, stupid Israel-Palestine conflict can talk about “the past” and have a nice lunch together while talking about reconciliation. But as I said to the women in Belfast, now we’re busy enough dealing with the present.
The lucky children of the Siraj al-Quds School in Jerusalem
At the Siraj al-Quds School, children look happy.
Kids with visual impairments, kids with learning difficulties, kids with family challenges, and kids without too many problems (because we all have some problems, don’t we?) mix together with ease. The kids look engaged. They look cared for. They look happy.
I had the pleasure of visiting the school with dear friends Hassan Hassanein, Alia Nasseridin, and Moira Jilani. We had heard that some of the kids are coming to school hungry.
We wanted to learn how we could help.
Like all Palestinian students in Jerusalem, the kids of Siraj al-Quds face hardships.
But these children are lucky. They study at Siraj al-Quds school, in the able hands of Nurredin Amro. He is an educational administrator, a teacher and a community activist, but more than that, he is a visionary and a doer.
Nurredin, himself blind, envisions kids of all backgrounds and abilities learning together to build stronger communities.
I’ve known Nurredin for years and he always inspires me with his gentle persistence. He inspired my friends, too.
Are you inspired? Let me know if you’d like to help ensure that kids at Siraj al-Quds enjoy school on a full stomach.
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