Month: August 2022

Indigenous Women face diverse forms of violence arising from the dispossession and breakdown of the social bond of their communities. The solution provided by the CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls is holistic, crosscutting and intersectional.

It took Helena Steenkamp ten years to gather the courage and admit that she had been raped in her community. Her abuser was an outsider to the community who used to come for work and he was only prosecuted after 6 years. In the ‡Khomani San Indigenous community —which inhabits the Kalahari Desert land located on the border between South Africa and Botswana—, the case of Helena is not the exception but the rule. Social decomposition, caused by constant displacements and years of exploitation of ancestral land, has created a context of violence that has a particular impact on the bodies of Indigenous Women and Girls. San women face discrimination and violence both within and outside of their communities, carried out by those who want them to be weak and quiet. But if the perpetrator is inside and outside the home, how can a woman protect herself?

Within the communities, fear to publicly admit to having been sexually abused and fear of losing their husband’s support, dissuade women from reporting the case to the authorities. “Being able to talk about it requires having an introspection process and building up courage,” Helena says, “it took me a long time to be myself again and regain confidence.” Steenkamp managed to get over it thanks to the strength she acquired from lifting up her community and having to impose herself in a space dominated by men. “If women do not take the lead, we will not see any change or progress,” she concludes. 

The CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls provides a legal framework that may serve as a shield in the face of the State’s inaction, as in the case of South Africa. However, Helena Steenkamp acknowledges that women need first to be empowered, know their rights and learn how to use these international instruments to create a real change that puts an end to discrimination and violence against Indigenous Women. 

The San People: a story of territorial and cultural dispossession

The San People, which Helena belongs to, descend from ancestral hunter-gatherer communities considered to be the first ones who inhabited the southern tip of the African continent, also called Bushmen. Due to the migration of other peoples, such as the Khoekhoe or the Bantu, the San People were expelled to the more remote and desert areas, although there was also some mixing among the different communities. 

Colonization brought dispossession of lands that were the home of the San and the exploitation of natural resources on which these people relied for its subsistence. This increased competition and rivalry among the Indigenous communities themselves and destroyed the social fabric, livelihoods and cultural identity of the San People. Only a few communities survived, which pushed the San People to be on the verge of extermination. 

Acts of violence are wounds from the past

Nowadays, the San communities have lost their original names and there are only five persons who speak the N|u ancestral language. Helena Steenkamp went looking for them in the Lost Tongues documentary. In 1999, the ‡Khomani San reclaimed part of the land that was taken from them thanks to a long process of struggle and to the new legal framework of the post-apartheid government. However, the return of the territory did not bring about the change that everyone was longing for. 

“At first, we were all excited to have got our ancestral land back again. I left my job in Cape Town to come here, to Andriesvale, and create change in my community. But in the past ten years, everything has worsened. Without the knowledge on how to handle the land, we did not know what to do with it,” Helena says. With high rates of unemployment and low levels of education, and without the required capabilities to generate new economic activities, many persons in the community fell into substance abuse. There are even some who remember the apartheid as being good years, where there was employment at the farms of the whites and parents could take their children to school. 

Helena grew up among parents who fought constantly, heavy alcohol and drug consumption, and girlfriends with early pregnancies. This violence cycle is reproduced generation after generation. In order to overcome this narrative of discouragement, Steenkamp and other community members created a visual project that intends to revert the paternalist and colonialist representation of Indigenous communities. With the advice of the Market Photo Workshop, she photographed young pregnant women. “The girls and mothers had a very positive reaction, something I was not expecting. Our community is always seen from the outside. We constantly receive people who come to investigate us and take pictures of us. For the first time, the story was told by someone from the inside,” she explains. 

The representation of Indigenous communities as a form of violence

The dispossession of the Indigenous communities’ identity has been historically accompanied by images that demonize, dehumanize or exoticize them. Indigenous women of the Caribbean are probably the most hypersexualized female bodies in history. At present, countries devoted to the Catholic religion —inherited from the missionary colonialism— forbid women to abort even in cases of malformation or health risks for the mother; while the most popular songs on the radio objectify and sexualize women. 

“The hypersexualization of the Taíno Woman is an offense that threatens our lives,” strongly states Tai Pelli, an Indigenous woman leader of Taíno of Borikén, the original name of the island of Puerto Rico. “They take symbols that are sacred to us and use them in a vulgar manner, in a message that perpetuates the image of Caribbean women as instruments of pleasure who may be abused”, she reiterates with a claiming passion and energy that inspires not to take any step back. 

Colonization put an end to the matrilineal structure of Taíno Peoples, which granted women a position of respect and equality between genders. “Now women are taking the lead again,” Tai adds, and she points out the global spaces that are being created to promote gender equality. “But in order to achieve it we must take our voices there, go back to our Indigenous roots and values and create a model that renders the other one obsolete,” she concludes. 

Intersectionality of violence

Unlike the San People, the Taíno Communities dispersed across the Lesser and Greater Antilles have not been able to reclaim the land and territory that were taken away from them by different imperialist States. Puerto Rico is one of the most emblematic cases, as it continues being an unincorporated territory of the United States. “We are the people with more experience in being colonized, but that does not mean that we have abandoned our connection to the land,” Tai warns. Some say that Indigenous Peoples are nothing without land. Although it is true that land is the basis of Indigenous identity —and its expropriation causes a great deal of violence that has a profound impact on Indigenous Women and Girls—, Tai Pelli defends the community identity and organization even when there is no land of their own to set foot on. “Even if we do not have it, we continue loving and defending it from the violence it suffers. Such responsibility must be awakened; we are the earth!” she concludes. Indeed, the CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls takes into account such intersectionality of violence from the land to the body, in order to end it.

Although we have been historically marginalized from the decision-making spaces, our inputs as guardians of biodiversity must be included in climate action. The CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls is a key instrument to achieve it at a national and international level.

The Himalayan mountains melt and cause heavy rainfall and floods. Rising sea levels flood the Pacific Islands. Drought opens the soil and withers orchards in East Africa; fires and deforestation destroy Amazon trees. Climate crisis affects us all, women and men, but not equally. 

We, Indigenous Women and Girls, depend on Mother Earth to survive. In her, we find the food to nourish and cure our families, the materials to build our houses and the water to drink and clean ourselves. Moreover, some of us live in territories that are more vulnerable to extreme weather events. “Our burdens are multiple, but our support is crucial,” emphasizes Victoria Tauli-Corpuz, of the Kankana-ey Igorot community in the Philippines and former UN Special Rapporteur on the rights of Indigenous Peoples.

However, we, Indigenous Women, have been historically marginalized from the decision-making and political participation spheres where solutions are sought and policies and financing are established to stop climate change. “Although there has been progress in the past 40 years, we need to have a greater presence in international spaces so that our specific needs are recognized and our capabilities are considered as part of the solution,” claims Tarcila Rivera Zea, Quechua activist and Executive President of the FIMI. 

Indigenous Peoples protect 80% of the planet’s biodiversity

According to the UN, Indigenous Peoples protect 80% of the planet’s biodiversity and many communities live in megadiverse countries.  Due to the cultural and spiritual connection we keep with the land, Indigenous Peoples are also guardians of nature and show collective leadership in its protection and defense. 

Within this framework, we, Indigenous Women, play a crucial role as guardians and practitioners of ancestral knowledge, and as creators of new environmental sustainability proposals. “We preserve native seeds, biodiversity and food security, and the wellbeing of our communities,” explains Naw Ei Ei Min, Indigenous Woman of Myanmar and Member of the Executive Council of the Asian Indigenous Peoples Pact (AIPP). 

Impact of climate change and environmental violations against Indigenous territories

Indigenous Women and Peoples not only face the impacts of climate change, but also the expropriation and exploitation of our lands and natural resources resulting from the progress of extractive companies in the name of economic development. 

For example, Indigenous communities in Nepal —the 10th country most affected by climate change during the past 20 years— are facing the melting of the Himalayas at an unprecedented rate. In turn, this phenomenon is causing a radical change in the rainfall cycle. “We no longer differentiate between winter and summer. Now, we have the Monsoon all year round, which generates heavy flooding at the river bank where Indigenous communities live,” warns Pratima Gurung, academic and Indigenous activist of Nepal, specialized in Indigenous Peoples’ human rights, gender and disabilities, and General Secretary of the National Indigenous Disabled Women Association-Nepal (NIDWAN) and of the Indigenous Persons with Disabilities Global Network (IPWDGN).

On the other hand, the expropriation of Indigenous lands for the construction of hydroelectric plants and the intensive use of pesticides have worsened the amount and quality of water. All of this has a devastating impact on Indigenous Women, particularly on those fellow women with disabilities. “The scarcity of nutritious food and potable water has an impact on our health and hygiene. This causes a greater prevalence of persons with diverse disabilities in our communities,” Gurung adds. Thus, Pratima calls not only for Indigenous Women to be clearly mentioned in the agreements for climate action, but also Indigenous Women with Disabilities.  

Lessons learned and good practices for sustainable development

In Aotearoa (New Zealand), indigenous communities also face the impacts of climate change and deforestation, which jeopardize access to water and other natural resources. In order to address these challenges, indigenous communities of Aotearoa are producing books and e-tools based on Māori traditional ecological knowledge and biocultural health indicators, with the aid of Tui Shortland, Director of Awatea Organics and Member of the Executive Committee of Cultural Survival, specialising in traditional knowledge of biological diversity. Māori live connected to water from birth, they consider water to be a living being resulting from the love between Father Sky and Mother Earth. When fighting for their rights, the Māori have achieved the inclusion of their indigenous cosmovisions in regional policies on the management of water, which are now more respectful of natural water cycles. This allows for protecting the environment and ecosystem biodiversity.

Meanwhile, Indigenous Women all the way from Africa to the Arctic are becoming pioneers in environmental agriculture and environmental sustainability. For example, Molly Bella Akelo, Director of Fountain of Life Uganda, along with her fellow Indigenous women have implemented the use of organic pesticides and fertilizers, Indigenous irrigation methods and tree growing to combat drought. 

Recommendations for the full inclusion and participation of Indigenous Women in climate action

We, Indigenous Women, claim our full inclusion and participation in the decision-making and preparation of public policies for climate action. For such a purpose, a greater presence of Indigenous Women is required in the Commission on the Status of Women (CSW66), which, in 2022 is dedicated to climate change; as well as in spaces, such as the United Nations Climate Change Conference. It is precisely in these forums where we must be considered as guardians of the planet’s biodiversity, and where our inputs and knowledge must be included as part of the solution.

At the same time, it is essential that the financing set forth in the Paris Agreement to tackle climate change reaches Indigenous Women and their communities, in view that we face numerous barriers to obtain economic support. These barriers include the use of colonialist languages and western banking systems, compliance with requirements impossible to be fulfilled for the registration of our organizations and implementation of programs, and lack of support.

As a result, Indigenous Women have been fighting for years so that our rights are recognized at both the international and national levels. Today, we are in the final stretch of a collective path that reaches its turning point with the preparation of a CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls. It will be key that this Recommendation includes concepts of environmental justice that guarantee our rights to land, territories and natural resources. This will force the States Parties to comply with the free, prior and informed consent, and to include us in the national public policies for an effective action. “If we were given the space we are entitled to, the world would be different, with a broad, collective circular and diverse vision,” emphasizes Teresa Zapeta Mendoza, of the Maya K’iche’ People of Guatemala and Executive Director of the FIMI. 

We may only visualize a different world with the inputs of the Indigenous Peoples and Women. A world where forests and water are preserved and Mother Earth is respected; an environment where solidarity prevails over private profit, the community prevails over the person and diversity prevails over cultural assimilation that creates falsely homogeneous societies. 

Understanding the CEDAW; influencing the reports from State Parties with inputs from Indigenous Women organizations and preparing shadow reports; participating in sessions; and promoting General Recommendation No. 39 on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls. Four fundamental steps to take ownership of this instrument for change.

Discrimination moves forward on our bodies, our loved ones and our land, but we, Indigenous Women and Girls, come together to face it. We resort to ancestral knowledge and turn ourselves into agents of change. We combat gender-based violence; we cure physical and spiritual diseases; we produce food and reclaim traditional medicine; we protect Mother Earth, animals and plants, because we may live in harmony thanks to them. However, oftentimes, ancestral knowledge and the collective struggle t need to be accompanied by international legal instruments to support them. The CEDAW, which is mandatory for its States Parties, is an essential instrument, as it proposes that women and girls may fully exercise their rights and freedoms. 

How can we, Indigenous Women and Girls, benefit from the CEDAW?  Here are four keys to do so. 

1. Understand what the CEDAW is, an international Convention to demand respect for the rights of women and protect them against discrimination.

The CEDAW is the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women. It is the only binding international instrument that specifically protects the rights of all women. The CEDAW Committee is formed by 23 independent expert women of the Americas, Africa, Asia, the Pacific, Europe/Central Asia and Middle East/Northern Africa regions. It receives reports from the State Parties, communications from persons or groups who submit reports or claims on systematic violations to the rights of women.  In addition, the Committee may open investigations, if the State so allows. 

This international committee also makes general recommendations that must be taken into consideration in the national laws or other approaches to respect the rights of women and girls. General Recommendation No. 39, which is about to be adopted, addresses Indigenous Women and Girls.

2. Know in advance which States will submit reports in the next CEDAW Committee session and, if our country is convened, participate in the preparation of reports.

At each session, the CEDAW usually invites eight State Parties. The Committee suggests that they consult national non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and women associations in the preparation of their report. Through our organizations, Indigenous Women and Girls may exert pressure so that the States take into account our situation in such documents and implement national policies that promote honoring the Convention. 

If the State fails to take us into consideration in the document produced, we may prepare a parallel or shadow report that outlines the actual problems affecting Indigenous Women and Girls in regard to the breach of the Convention and include specific recommendations for the change. 

3. Attend the Geneva session and advocate for inclusion of Indigenous Women by means of policies and programs.

The CEDAW Committee invites NGOs to provide oral information in the public meeting; this option may be availed by Indigenous Women. It is about lobbying, influencing decision makers so that they may intervene in public policies. 

We, Indigenous Women, understand the art of lobbying; our interventions, filled with stories, images and experiences, usually have a persuasive force with an impact on public opinion in various spheres. By lobbying, we may go from a mere claim to a concrete proposal for a solution.

When taking part at the Committee sessions, Indigenous Women and Girls will notify the States how our communities are affected by the lack of compliance with the Convention. In addition, we will provide sustainable solutions to face such problems.

In these sessions, we, Indigenous Women, may highlight why a General Recommendation is required to demand the States to incorporate policies that guarantee our individual and collective human rights as Indigenous Women and Girls. 

4. Keep a close watch on future steps and add more voices to promote the CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls.

Indigenous Women have struggled and continue making our   rights visible individually and collectively. We believe that we can accomplish more if we are informed and united. Upon its adoption, the Recommendation will be transformed into a strategic instrument for this fight. Therefore, regional organizations and networks are joining in an effort to disseminate it, through the https://cedaw.fimi-iiwf.org/ campaign.

Add your signature to promote the adoption of the Recommendation.

It is important to disseminate the General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls through different means; to approach the different levels of governments with its legal backing and take into account both for urgent issues as well as for more in-depth demands.

At a warm and meaningful reunion, we interviewed Gladys Acosta Vargas, chairperson of the CEDAW Committee, on the General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls. Gladys, who has been an ally of the Indigenous Women movement for many years, explained that it is a process to construe the Convention articles and their binding force. Upon its adoption, the interlocution capacity will be broadened between the Committee and the State Parties for their compliance with their international obligations to the indigenous communities. In this context, Acosta Vargas explained: “General Recommendations do not add any rights, as these are included in the Convention, but they go deeper on how they must be protected.”

According to Acosta Vargas, for a Recommendation to be effectively applied, it is required to disseminate it in all possible ways: languages, codes, images, videos. The dissemination must take into consideration persons with disabilities, who need to find out about the progress achieved in terms of Human Rights. During our conversation, she pointed out that not only should State Parties take part in the dissemination of content, but also civil society NGOs and mass media, whether public or private. 

In addition to protecting Indigenous Women and Girls who live within their territories, the countries must also protect those who are in transit (due to migration or for any other reason), because it is a right.

For Acosta Vargas, achieving changes means taking action before the State branches. On one hand, the Executive branch, because all public policies of all areas are drafted there, and before the Legislative and Judicial branches, which complement it. On the other hand, before the regional and municipal governments, as they are directly responsible for changes at a local level. 

As an example of the possible actions, she explained that, in case of violation to the rights of Indigenous Women, the CEDAW and the specific articles of the General Recommendation should be cited, explaining what Indigenous Women experience in their daily lives and their struggles. Thus, in any controversy or dispute, even with private parties, the State will ensure that their rights are not violated. 

Regarding this type of actions, Acosta stated: “The Convention is growing stronger, thanks to the women’s fights, because its strength does not arise from it, but from those who use it and turn it into an instrument of struggle.” As they are directly applicable standards, the protection organizations, including Indigenous Women organizations, must learn how to use them in their long term and immediate fights.

The chairperson of the CEDAW Committee considers that the adoption of such General Recommendation responds to a debt that the world owes to Indigenous Women and Girls for the atrocities they have suffered. 

This Recommendation is emerging and was developed in spite of the hard work during the pandemic. “The dialogue started in 2017 and we are about to adopt it in 2022, because it responds to the increasing struggle for a greater visibility of Indigenous Women and Girls in the field of international politics,” she added.

To close the interview, Gladys Acosta highlighted that the Recommendation provides for the connection with nature, the respect to human beings and a powerful spirituality not only for Indigenous Peoples, but also for everyone. As such, this instrument will also be useful to defend our territories from violence and dispossession.

“One thing is to fight knowing that rights are on your side, and another thing is to keep fighting simply because an injustice is taking place,” Acosta Vargas expressed. Finally, our voices are beginning to be heard.

Although the UN recognizes the right to self-determination of Indigenous Peoples, the States systematically infringe it. The CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls may become the binding instrument that obliged the States to respect such rights.

 

Aida Quilcué —Indigenous woman leader of the Nasa People and senator of the Republic of Colombia— woke up on the morning of March 15, 2022 with a grieving heart for sad news. Her comrade in arms Miller Correa, counselor of the Association of Indigenous Councils of Northern Cauca, a political and social organization that gathers Indigenous communities of such region, which is located in Southern Colombia, was murdered. “They have been killing us and continuing to kill us. It is part of the millenary dispossession, exclusion and cultural extermination we suffer as Indigenous Peoples. Hence the need to defend ourselves and build self-governance processes that, to date, keep us within the survival framework,” Quilcué comments with the voice tone and serene gaze of someone who carries inside of her the suffering of an entire people. 

 

On the other side of the Pacific, in Guam —the largest island of Micronesia—, Terilynn Francisco represents the living memory of her Chamorro grandfathers and grandmothers. They survived the Spanish occupation, Second World War, the Japanese concentration camps and the reconquest by the United States, which continues controlling the island. “We have an intergenerational trauma, as our communities have been exposed to so much violence and our land has seen too many wars. We need to reclaim our cultural identity and traditional practices in order to understand who we are and who we want to be,” Terilynne Francisco emphasizes, with the sweet and compelling voice of a young spirit who longs for change. 

 

Indigenous Peoples have the right to self-determination, whereby they may autonomously choose their political condition as a collective, their cultural identity and their forms of economic and social development by means of their own institutions. However, many times the States violate such right recognized in the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Such violations range from preventing a girl to be named with an Indigenous name, hindering the development of intercultural health or educational systems, encroaching on Indigenous lands recognized by law or failing to comply with the right to free, prior, and informed consent. 

 

With the intention of putting an end to these violations to the Indigenous Peoples’ rights and actively participating in the political and social development of their communities, Indigenous Women all over the world are contributing to the drafting of a specific CEDAW General Recommendation for Indigenous Women and Girls, that may be used as a binding instrument for the States to respect the right to self-determination, among other rights.

 

Guam: a people deprived of its collective power and identity

 

“We were one of the first Indigenous Peoples to be colonized and one of the few that is still occupied. For centuries, we have been caught in the authority dynamics of colonial powers,” explains Terilynn Francisco, member and founder of the Chamorro Hagan Famalåo’an Guåhan women association. The island of Guam has been  under the control of the United States as an unincorporated territory since 1950. Guam is also one of the 17 non-self-governing territories supervised by the UN Special Committee on Decolonization. Its inhabitants —although being considered as United States citizens— may not vote at federal elections, nor have access to state social security, nor decide their own future as a people. “We are second-class citizens,” Teri concludes.

 

The United States maintains the occupation of the island mainly due to its strategic military position in the Pacific and Southeast Asia. One-third of the ancestral lands of the Chamorro People has been occupied by military bases, in violation of the prior consent and without the families receiving any compensation whatsoever. Meanwhile, the military presence of the United States continues to increase. “Our land and our people are paying a very heavy price,” acknowledges Teri, who is also a social worker and mental health professional at the Mariana Islands. 

 

Teri relates this structural violence to the high rates of gender-based violence, suicides and substance abuse in the communities of the Chamorro People. “Colonization put an end to our healing practices and ways to relate to one another. We are a people deprived of power and collective identity,” she says sadly. 

 

In 2011, the Chamorro People of Guam wanted to hold a non-binding plebiscite to explore its political future as a people. However, after a legal process that has lasted ten years, the plebiscite was rejected by a local court in Guam and by the U.S. Supreme Court, with the excuse that it would be discriminatory for the non-Indigenous population who could not vote. “We are not even allowed to have a dialogue with ourselves,” Teri complains. 

 

After this debacle against the Chamorro People, Teri and her fellow women are committed to restoring the collective identity and reclaiming the traditional healing practices of the Chamorro People. “We, Indigenous Women, are the caregivers of our families and we need to take leadership to be empowered again as a people,” she affirms. Teri believes that, even though the U.S. has not ratified the CEDAW and, therefore, the General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls will not be binding, it may serve to forge alliances and increase international pressure so that the U.S. recognizes the right to self-determination of the Chamorro People in Guam. 

 

Colombia: a State that recognizes but fails to respect

 

“In Colombia, the norm has never been respected. First, we had to conquer our rights, because rights are not given, but fought for and demanded. And now, for them to be enforced, we must continue to mobilize, as war persists,” explains the Colombian senator Aida Quilcué.

 

Although the 1991 Colombian Political Constitution recognizes the right to self-determination of Indigenous Peoples, the Colombian State has systematically violated such right, even in a post-conflict context. After 50 years of civil war and the execution of the Peace Agreements in 2016, the Cauca Department, the second region with more Indigenous population, has not seen peace yet. As it is a strategic passage for drugs and natural resource area, this region continues suffering high levels of violence, particularly against the Indigenous communities that protect the territory.

 

According to the Indepaz report, in 2021, 171 leader men and women were exterminated in Colombia, of which 55 were Indigenous and 31 were murdered in Cauca. This trend has been on the rise since 2017, one year after the agreements were signed. In 2020, for the second year in a row, Colombia was the most dangerous country for defending Human Rights. 

 

In this regard, the only effective solution for Quilcué is to reconfigure the system from the inside. Although she recognizes that the CEDAW General Recommendation may force the Colombian State to respect such rights, “we need to change the government in order to change the forms,” she concludes. “And that is precisely what we are doing,” she clarifies. 

 

Quilcué became a senator after a process that was devised for years, but that culminated in April 2021 with an unprecedented social outburst and national strike for “the right to life”. The mobilization went from the streets to the polls thanks to an alliance among the Indigenous Peoples and other communities that have been historically excluded. “That is why they are killing us, because we fight for the country to wake up and move forward,” Aida Quilcué concludes. 

 

Lea Nicholas-MacKenzie, also known as  “Warrior Princess” has fought all her life to defend Indigenous Women’s rights at the national and international levels. She considers the CEDAW General Recommendation to be the instrument with the power to put pressure on the States for an actual and effective change.

On July 19, 1979, over a hundred Indigenous Women and children of the Tobique First Nation in Canada started a 160 km march that caught the eye of hundreds of people. Armed with red banners and signs, these relentless women marched through lakes, forests and rivers from the Kanesatake lands to the Canadian Parliament in Ottawa to protest a Canadian law known as the Indian Act, which was discriminatory against Indian Women. The XIX century law set forth that if an Indian Woman married a non-Indian man, she and her children would lose their Indian status.

The participants of this historical march included a young girl, Lea Nicholas, who was accompanying her mother, a political activist of the Indian Rights for Indian Women organization. This was the first time she fought for defending Indigenous Women’s rights. “I remember feeling inspired by those courageous women devoted to raising awareness,” she explains. 

The protesters achieved having the Minister of Indian Affairs of Canada meet with them as political actors, which was unusual at the time. Finally, in 1985, they succeeded in having the government approve a bill to amend the Indian Act. From an early age, Lea learned that if you fight in unity for the individual and collective rights of Indigenous Women, great success may be achieved. Her political advocacy career at a national and international level would lead her to earn the name “Warrior Princess.” 

The Wəlastəkwey People in Canada

Lea  grew up among trees, snow and frozen rivers, surrounded by her cousins, uncles and aunts. She spent the day amid a lush nature, catching rabbits, walking with snowshoes or collecting the famous maple syrup. But underneath this idyllic childhood image, lies a condition of poverty, lack of opportunities and dispossession of the Wəlastəkwey People —also known as Maliseet—, to which Lea belongs. 

The Wəlastəkwey People are part of the First Nations in Canada, composed of 635 communities, representing more than 50 distinct nations and linguistic groups. Its name makes reference to the beautiful Wəlastəkw River and emphasizes the relationship between its members and the natural space they inhabit. Before colonization, they were found in the geographical territory between Quebec, New Brunswick and Maine. “This was our land, but colonizers imposed borders. They saw no Wəlastəkwey land or territory,” Lea explains. In 1725 and 1779, Great Britain signed the Peace and Friendship Treaties with the Indigenous Peoples of Canada. However, such treaties were hardly ever honored and the British continued using colonial practices to dehumanize Indigenous Peoples. “But they failed to eliminate us entirely,” Lea remarks.

The power of education: a horror story for Indigenous Peoples of Canada

Education was a crucial requirement in the Nicholas family. Although grandmother Nicholas could not attend school off-reserve, she fought so that her  sons, daughters and grandchildren could have that opportunity. This high level of education among Indigenous families was completely unusual back in those days, as the Indian Act promoted an educational system for Indigenous children, whose purpose was cultural assimilation and genocide. 

Between 1894 and 1947, attendance at Indian Residential Schools was mandatory and it is one of the darkest episodes in Canadian history. Numerous physical, psychological and sexual abuses have been documented and it is estimated that between 10,000 and 50,000 Indigenous boys and girls disappeared. Through September 2021, more than 1,300 bodies have been found in unmarked graves across the sites of five such residential schools. 

MacKenzie attended an Indian Day School. “There was a lot of abuse that was similar to Residential Schools; for example, we were not allowed to speak in our own language, but at least at night we went back home to our families,” she explains. That is the reason why for Lea it is not only important to have access to education, but also to exert control over it.

The experience of the Mi’kmaw People in Nova Scotia depicts how an intercultural education may be key for the development of Indigenous communities. Since 1999, a governing law grants the Mi’kmaw People the decision power over the language, history, identity and contents of the curriculum. This system enables the graduation rate for indigenous young students who conclude their education to be 90%, while, in the rest of the country, such rate is around 40% or 25% in the worst-case scenarios.  

From national to international political advocacy

Thanks to her education and to a degree in French Language and Linguistics, Lea could leave her community in search of new opportunities. The price she paid was living far away from her roots. Her first job was with the Canadian government, at the Department of Indian Affairs, focused on Lands and Environment. According to Lea, this was an opportunity to know the system from the inside, although she could not do much to change it. “I was too young and did not know how to fight for Indigenous Peoples’ rights in a system that works against them. So, I left.” 

Her next step was as Chief of Staff at the Assembly of First Nations. “There, I became a true activist,” she recognizes. In 1998, she was sent to take part at the annual session of the Commission on the Status of Women in New York. “We did not know how to use the United Nations in order to advance our rights. There were only three Indigenous Women participating and we hardly had the chance to speak. We were discriminated against by many in the feminist movement, and that made us realize the importance of having our own voice,” she explains. 

After that event, Tarcila Rivera Zea, a Quechua Indigenous woman leader of Peru and current President of the FIMI, invited her to organize the preparatory event for the Beijing +5. Lea and the rest of the team members were able to bring more than 100 Indigenous Women to New York and train them on how to use the United Nations instruments to make their voices heard and promote their rights. FIMI’s Global Leadership School, which will be implementing its ninth edition, came to life from that event. 

Recommendations to make our voices heard

20 years after this historical event, the global movement of Indigenous Women has managed to initiate a CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls. Even though there are already some United Nations instruments that recognize the Rights of Indigenous Peoples, the human rights of Indigenous Peoples must be included in all instruments, including Conventions such as CEDAW. “Indigenous Women may use them to defend their rights at a State level. That is why it is so important,” she concludes. 

However, taking part in these decision-making spheres —where Indigenous Women are not welcome— has not been easy at all. “We must enter the room as our ancestors did, who fought for our rights. Because of them, I feel I can face any challenge that may arise,” she explains. 

It is also important for Lea to have courage, although this does not mean “not being afraid, but not letting fear stop you.” After years of political advocacy work at a local, national and international level, Lea  has found the best formula to make the person sitting across the table listen: finding solutions. “You have to be persuasive, not aggressive. Pounding the table will be of no use. When facing a problem, the best thing to do is to propose how to solve it,” she concludes.

Indigenous Women are criminalized for defending the land of their communities from dispossession and exploitation by the States and companies. The CEDAW General Recommendation provides for a legal framework that protects Indigenous Women and guarantees their rights to land.

Since she was a youth, Joan Carling, an Indigenous woman leader of the Philippines, understood that the relationship between Indigenous Peoples and land is special. Joan grew up in a mixed community with Indigenous and non-Indigenous families; thus, she could see the differences between her community and the rest of the Philippine society. For the Kankanaey, the Indigenous community of the Northern area of the Cordillera in the Philippines, to which she belongs, land is collective and inherited equally by men and women. Forests are subject to collective norms and people help each other during times of crisis. Land is not a mere natural resource or a commodity, but it is the basis of the culture, identity, wellbeing and cohesion of the community, a concept that brings Indigenous Peoples together from America to Asia.

When Carling was a child, the pine forest was her playground. “During my childhood, we hung up from trees, we collected pine cones to gather pine nuts  for the community pine trees nursery , and we hunted  for mushrooms on rainy days,” she explains with the voice of someone who remembers happy times. But soon, she understood that if she did not fight and defend the land, it would be taken away from the traditional custodians, as her community lived in a gold-rich region. The company that exploited the forest where she grew up was the same one that had expropriated an area of collective land to extract gold and copper. The land had been completely destroyed: the underground water and rivers were polluted and the unstable land due to mining activities would collapse at their feet. 

During her college years, Carling spent  two months of summer with  the  Kalinga tribal villages which successfully defended their territories from the construction of four hydro dams that would destroy their livelihoods. Although resistance came along with blood and imprisonments, the Kalinga People managed to stop the dam. This marked a milestone in the defense of lands for Indigenous Peoples in the Philippines, as it proved that fighting together with determination  yields results. 

Since then, for over 20 years, Carling has been defending Human Rights and Indigenous Peoples’ Rights  not only in the Philippines but  also in Asia and at the global level.  In 2018, she received the Champions of the Earth award for her trajectory, the most important distinction of the United Nations in environmental matters. For an effective land defense, Carling recommends having a solid community organization, including women leadership, creating alliances with diverse stakeholders (communities, academics, local governments) and not letting companies set foot on the lands of Indigenous Peoples. “Once they are inside, it is much harder to get them out,” she warns.

The fight of the Amazigh People for collective land in Morocco

In Morocco, Amina Amharech, Amazigh indigenous activist, faces the latest assault of the Moroccan government against the notion of collective land of the Amazigh People as well as disregard for the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. In 2019, three laws were adopted that destroy the inalienability, which protected collective lands in Morocco, whereby these could not be sold, transferred or rented. Only the State could acquire the lands in those cases that proved to contribute to the wellbeing of the community. The Amazigh, also known as the Berber, is an Indigenous People that inhabits Northern Africa from Siwa, Egypt to the Canary Islands, with their own language, culture and identity. 

For Amina, behind such laws there is a clear intention of the State to encroach on the collective land, which still covers most of the country’s territory. “The French eliminated the customary right of the Amazigh to the land, the Izarfan, which guaranteed equal access for everyone to the land and natural resources. However, colonizers could not entirely end the relationship of the Amazigh with the land. We preserve the forms of community governance, decision-making processes where women are included, and food-sovereignty methods,” Amina explains. Upon the elimination of the 1919 French protectorate laws, the Moroccan State has taken even one step further in the dispossession of land from Indigenous Peoples, a situation that is exacerbated by the effects of climate change, preventing them from reaching the SDGs. 

The cultural basis of the Amazigh People: women, language and territory

Amina relates the new laws on collective lands to a fundamentalist Arabization project that intends to undermine the leadership position of Amazigh Women within their communities. “During my childhood, women have been very present. I saw how they could give their opinion and take part in debates without being discriminated against. They are the center of the family and the community; they are the ones who take care of their children and their households, but also those who preserve  ancestral knowledge and land,” Amina says. The word Tamazigh designates language, territory and woman, a highly symbolic term in the Amazigh cosmovision, which makes reference to the matrilineal structure of these people. However, in the 1980’s, the rising of the radical Islam negatively impacted the freedoms and social status of women in Morocco. 

This patriarchal character is found in the reaction caused by the new land laws. By renaming the collective land as soulaliyates (arabic word for female descendant), the Moroccan State has alienated men from women, as men believe that it will be women who benefit from this land. However, the reality is quite the opposite. “These are the consequences of a simple change of name and show the weak position that women have in regards to the land,” Amina remarks. In fact, the only ones who will gain control of these lands will be the private investors and oligarchs favoured by the new laws.

Criminalized for defending the land

Both Joan Carling and Amina Amharech have faced high risks for defending the land of their Indigenous Peoples against the expropriation by the State or extractive companies. Over the years while Carling worked for the Cordillera People’s Alliance, she was called a terrorist, along with other activists. At that time, she received numerous threats and four of her colleagues were murdered. Pressure on her life and her family was so high, that in 2006 she decided to take a break and leave the danger zone through the Oak Human Rights Fellowship Program. 

In turn, Amina Amharech has personally faced the corruption of the Moroccan State and judicial system, her family and community struggling for years against the state apparatus that is trying everything to expropriate them for belonging to the Amazigh People. When she intended to bring the case to justice, she was faced with a different kind of corruption, that of the judiciary system, with the Amicale Hassania des juges du Maroc trying to get their hands on those lands part of the Land Title 1683K. In Morocco today, there is a land mafia targeting all Amazigh land, whether collective or private. There are no laws in place to protect the rights of the Amazigh to their lands and natural resources and it is very difficult, if not impossible, to find specialized attorneys who dare lead such cases.

Every time the Amazigh People protest, leaders are arrested and imprisoned. “Nothing can protect us. That is why I searched for the alternative before international bodies,” Amina states. Amharech participated in the UN Indigenous Fellowship Programme and, ever since, she has been a pioneer in taking the fight of the Amazigh People before the United Nations. 

A new legal framework for Indigenous Women to defend the land

In CEDAW General Recommendation on the Rights of Indigenous Women and Girls, Amina finds the possibility of protecting the rights of her people and, particularly, the rights of women, from a State that deliberately violates them. However, she claims that for the Recommendation to reach the communities, previous dissemination and awareness efforts must be undertaken. “Women need to be taught how to use these mechanisms,” she affirms. 

For Joan Carling, who is currently the Executive Director of the Indigenous Peoples Rights International (IPRI), the danger is that the Recommendation remains a dead letter. In order to avoid it, it would be necessary to establish an accountability process and for the States to apply sanctions to those violating Human Rights. In any case, the CEDAW General Recommendation is a milestone in the history of the rights to land of Indigenous Women and Girls. The next challenge will be to enforce it.