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François Zimeray is a prominent French diplomat, lawyer, former politician, and human rights activist. Zimeray previously served as France’s Ambassador-at-Large for Human Rights. He later became the French Ambassador for the Kingdom of Denmark in 2013.   This interview was conducted on 14 September 2023.   CJLPA : Welcome, Mr François Zimeray. We would like to begin by thanking you for taking the time to come and interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art . Your extensive political career as an MP in the European Parliament, being the French Ambassador-at-Large for Human Rights appointed by President Sarkozy, and serving as the French ambassador to Denmark, combined with your experience as a lawyer in international criminal and human rights law, provides a valuable perspective on pressing international law and political questions. We would specifically like to examine key legal and political issues in respect to the Russia-Ukraine War, but also more broadly, in the name of human rights. I wanted to begin by asking you to briefly outline your career. Having begun as a commercial lawyer, you transitioned into successful career in politics, and then started a leading law firm specializing in international human rights. What prompted your decision to delve into the field of human rights law?   François Zimeray : Thank you for inviting me, it’s a privilege for me to have this opportunity to share some thoughts and maybe experiences with the students you represent. Human rights has always been a commitment in my life, even before I became a lawyer, before I got involved in politics. I was in high school when I heard about Cambodian genocide, and I was very troubled, because my generation was raised with one motto, inspired by the tragedy of the Second World War, and this motto was ‘never again’. And we were obsessed about what to do in order to avoid a new perpetration of the crimes and atrocities of the mid-20th century. I realised when I was a very young student that this was happening again. I thought that indifference is a crime without forgiveness. So, I got involved in human rights through the schools by welcoming and supporting Cambodian refugees. This put me in contact with the realities of the world. Before, I didn’t know because I was not configurated or confronted to these realities, living in a protected environment in Paris. After meeting the Cambodian refugees and discovering what they had seen and endured, this inspired the rest of my life.   You mentioned a career, but this is a word I never used. In fact, I never had a career plan. When I look into the rear mirror, as it were, it’s only then that I can see something which looks like a career path.   CJLPA : What do human rights mean to you personally?   FZ : That’s a good question. I learned from experience that words have not the same meaning depending on the person who listens to them. And human rights is a very important example, which deserves extended consideration. Because when you say, human rights, most people hear ethics, values, principles, moral virtues. And I have to say that human rights are not ethics. Human rights are not morals. Human rights are not very views, which is a very vague term. Human rights are rights that exist or don’t exist; rights that are enforced or violated.   From this divide, it could lead to two different interpretations and attitudes vis-à-vis human rights. If you think that human rights are the synonym of morals, ethics, virtue, you are then dealing with symbols, posters, statements saying that human rights are perfect because ethics, by definition, are perfect. But, if you think that human rights are rights, which mean compromises or virtues, then human rights are, by definition, imperfect. Why do I say this? Because in democracies, rights are adopted by Parliament, after ideas are traded and discussed by different political parties and ultimately voted for by resolutions. These are therefore rights adopted from compromises which are inherently imperfect. As a former diplomat, I know that if you consider human rights as morals, then it is absolute and there is no possibility for compromise. It becomes a question of morals against other morals. Let’s say for example, we consider women’s rights and their right to religious freedom in wearing a veil, or the burqa, or other aspects. If you stand with moral arguments, you will face people with another vision of morality. I don’t see where a compromise or an agreement can be made if you have different morals. But, if you say human rights are not about morals, but actually about rights, then a dialogue is always possible: Where should we put the limit? What is allowed? What is forbidden? On which criteria should we agree to set a standard?   So this is my personal vision of human rights. Human rights are rights and it’s very demanding. It’s very demanding because sometimes the ‘right’ the law says can imply different solutions, opposite to what morals should inspire. Let’s try to find a very concrete example. Let’s say that in a criminal procedure, you have an accused criminal who is more likely than not guilty, but the criminal procedure is not fully respected. This means that the criminal’s right to a defence and the right to a fair trial is not fully respected. This leads the court to declare a mistrial due to the lack of respect for the rules. This outcome is in accordance with having rights. However, if you ask someone in terms of moral ethics, you have criminal that should be in jail. So, I don’t believe in fixating on morals and the justice that comes with it. I believe in rights, which is different and a very demanding discipline. It is a discipline which requires to think against oneself.

In January 2018, veteran actress Caroline Lagerfelt stepped into the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York City. She was there to see ‘Ode to the Sea’, an exhibition of artwork by detainees at Guantanamo Bay, which at that point had been open for 16 years, with no end in sight.   Lagerfelt had known about the atrocities committed at Guantanamo for some time. In fact, she had played British human rights lawyer Gareth Peirce in a play about Guantanamo 14 years earlier, and became a staunch advocate of the facility’s closure. As she walked through the exhibition, she was stunned by the beauty and intricacy of the works—Moath al Alwi’s ‘meticulously crafted ship’ from bits of cardboard and other found materials within the detention facility, Muhammad Ansi’s painting of two hands grasping the bars of a prison window with flowers.[1] Ms Lagerfelt later recounted that ‘one of the most powerful paintings is Vertigo at Guantanamo  by Ammar al Baluchi, a multi-coloured swirl that he painted to reflect the brain injury he suffered as a result of the brutal torture he underwent’.[2] Fig 1. Vertigo at Guantanamo (Ammar al Baluchi). Vertigo at Guantanamo  was, literally and figuratively, the product of years of torture, detention, interrogations, and ‘prosecution’ without end, all without basic medical or physical care. Ammar al Baluchi disappeared in Pakistan in April 2003. Soon thereafter, the CIA rendered him to the infamous ‘black sites’, where he would spend the next three and a half years entirely incommunicado, in violation of long standing international law.[3] His family had no idea where he was, and he had no news of them during that time. Former detainee Muhammad Ansi depicted the agony of incommunicado detention in his artwork. Mr al Baluchi’s journey towards art creation, like Mr Ansi and many of the Muslim men brutalized in US custody, began with his torture. Fig 2. Crying Eye: Mother (Muhammed Ansi).

Mazen Darwish is a Syrian Human Rights lawyer, freedom of expression activist and the president of the Syrian Centre for Media and Freedom of Expression. He was arrested in 2012 by the intelligence forces in Syria along with fifteen other journalists, one of whom was his wife Yara Bader. During his imprisonment he was subject to a forced disappearance and his whereabouts were unknown. Following his release and escape from Syria, Mazen has continued to advocate for freedom of expression in Syria by representing the victims of the Syrian Revolution and giving them a chance at justice. CJLPA : Good afternoon, Mr Darwish. It’s an honour to have an opportunity to interview you for The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art.  Throughout the last few decades you have been an inspiring figure, defending the human rights of all Syrians around the world. Much of your work has revolved around protecting freedom of expression for Syrians. What was your motivation to start practising in human rights knowing that the Syrian regime is quite oppressive when it comes to freedom of expression?   Mazen Darwish : Thank you very much. It’s a pleasure and honour to be with you. First of all, I want to start with my family, because both my father and my mother were detained and disappeared. This is something I was born into; seeing this situation and how it affected the families and all the civilians in Syria. For me, freedom of expression is a basic right that any society needs to have to build a democracy and all other freedoms. It’s an essential right, especially in a regime like the one in Syria, where a lot of people are detained and are suffering for expressing their opinion.   CJLPA : Can you tell us more about why your parents got detained?   MD : For their opinions, actually; both of them acted as political opposition in different parties or groups. This is not something special, a huge number of families or Syrians were detained because of their opinion in general. This is something that always happened in Syria, even before 2011. Again, this is a dictatorship regime, Stalin style. This regime tries to build the people from childhood, through propaganda, to have the same view, same enemy, same opinion. One opinion and one ideology. This is a part of the regime and how they control the people. If anyone tries to think about other opinions, about other ideologies, about other lifestyles, they are treated like they are destroying the regime itself.   CJLPA : When we spoke to Anwar al-Bunni about the legal justice system in Syria, he mentioned how there isn’t such a thing as a legitimate legal system in Syria. Can you tell us more about your time working within the Syrian legal system and the challenges you had to face representing clients in Syria?   MD : We need to put in consideration that the country from 1963-2011 was under emergency law. If we go to the Constitution, or if we go to the criminal law, criminal code, or the code for criminal procedure, in general, there are a lot of good words or good articles. The problem is that it is used in an impractical way. Since 1963, especially the Security Service, they have had a legal excuse to not use the law, to act above the law. They don’t need to have a warrant from any jurisdiction to arrest someone. They don’t have in the procedural law a legal limit to keep someone under investigation before sending him to the court. Due to the emergency law, legally, they are free to do what they want. They don’t have any limit. Some people stay 24 years, I know them, without being listened to by any judge or court due to the emergency law. This is the situation in Syria. We need to understand that this is an environment where maybe there is a legal code or some articles in the Constitution to protect the freedom of the people, but the reality is that we also have the emergency law, which gives all the authority to the Security Service or to the police.

KV Duong was born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, in 1980. He emigrated to Toronto, Canada with his family in 1987 and moved to London, UK on his own in 2010. His art practice spans painting, sculpture, installation, and live performance. In 2022, KV had a solo exhibition titled ‘Too Foreign for Home, Too Foreign for Here’ at the Migration Museum in London, followed by ‘No Place Like Home’ at the Museum of the Home in 2023, a group exhibition of eight artists from the Vietnamese Diaspora that KV co-curated and artistically led.   Originally trained as a structural engineer, KV enrolled in the MA in Painting Programme at the Royal College of Art, London, in September 2023 to further push his artistic investigations and was awarded the Vice Chancellor’s Achievement Scholarship from Royal College of Art in 2024. He is presently exploring latex as a painting medium. Gabriella Kardos: You’ve always been fascinated by material exploration, experimenting with concrete, fibreglass, and polystyrene in the past. Why did you turn your attention to latex?   KV Duong : Latex holds a complex web of connotations deeply rooted in the historical dynamics of rubber plantations during the era of French colonisation in Vietnam, where I was born. Latex also embodies a queer individual’s experience, evoking sexual fantasies and intimacy. Laden with symbolism, I’m using this glue-like substance to act as a signifier and protagonist, fusing together materials of importance in my life to help shape and contextualise my identity and ancestral past.   By using latex as a conceptual material to do the heavy lifting of the two main narratives of my life, this has allowed me more freedom of expression to focus on painterly explorations.   GK: How did growing up in Canada as a Vietnamese-Chinese person shape your identity and worldview?   KVD : I moved to Canada with my family when I was seven years old. We were fortunate that there is a sizeable Vietnamese-Chinese community in Toronto where we settled. Despite the culture and climate shock initially, I assimilated well as a young person. It wasn’t until adulthood, travelling abroad to Europe, that I faced scrutiny for my appearance and origin. This realisation of being perceived as ‘the other’ expanded my worldview and fostered a commitment to understanding diverse perspectives, particularly amidst escalating cultural tensions worldwide. Fig 1. KV Duong’s Family Portrait Ho Chi Minh City 1986. Image courtesy of KV Duong. GK: Ethnicity aside, you also had to come to terms with your sexuality. How was your coming out experience, and how did this inform your artistic voice?   KVD : I came out to my close friends and siblings when I was 28, then to my parents when I was 32. To date, the latter is still the most challenging and high-risk situation that I’ve had to navigate in life. I had laid everything on the line and prepared myself for the worst-case scenario, which thankfully didn’t happen. But because I had this mindset going in, everything else afterwards seems like a bonus. This experience gave me the courage to stand up for social injustice and shaped my voice as both a person and an artist.

Tschabalala Self (b. 1990 Harlem, USA) lives and works in Hudson Valley, New York. Tschabalala is an artist and builds a singular style from the syncretic use of both painting and printmaking to explore ideas about the black body. She constructs depictions of predominantly female bodies using a combination of sewn, printed, and painted materials, traversing different artistic and craft traditions. The formal and conceptual aspects of Self's work seek to expand her critical inquiry into selfhood and human flourishing. Recent solo and group exhibitions include: Espoo Museum of Modern Art, Espoo (2024); Highline, New York (2024) Brooklyn Museum, New York (2024); FLAG Foundation, New York (2024); Barbican, London (2024); CC Strombeek, Grimbergen, Belgium (2023); Desert X, Coachella Valley (2023); Kunstmuseum St Gallen (2023); Le Consortium, Dijon (2022); Performa 2021 Biennial, New York (2021); Haus der Kunst, Munich (2021); Kunsthalle Düsseldorf, Düsseldorf (2021); Baltimore Museum of Art, Baltimore (2021); ICA, Boston (2020); Studio Museum Artists in Residence, MoMA PS1, New York (2019); Hammer Museum, Los Angeles (2019); Frye Art Museum, Seattle (2019), amongst many others. Gabriella Kardos : The Fourth Plinth commissions make us look at the world in different ways, addressing issues of importance for British society. They point a mirror to our contemporary world, they embody ideas which need to be expressed in concrete form to remind us of important issues we are facing today. How do you view Lady in Blue within this context?   Tschabalala Self :   Lady in Blue is a sculpture that pays homage to a young, metropolitan woman of colour—a quotidian figure, like many one might encounter in contemporary London. Lady in Blue is not a figure from the historical or political past, but rather a symbol of our shared present and future ambitions. She reflects equity through representation, acknowledgement, and action, where all global citizens are exalted and appreciated for their unique contributions, and a future where the ordinary individual is recognised for their extraordinary capabilities. She expresses resilience and grace through the complications of our ever-evolving modern world.   Inspired by a desire to bring a contemporary woman to Trafalgar Square, Lady in Blue adds a new perspective to the public space. Unlike Henry Havelock, Charles James Napier, or George Washington, this anonymous woman is not a real person but an icon; she represents many individuals rather than the adulation of one. This symbolism allows all who interact with the sculpture to imbue her with their own personal relationship and take meaning from her placement.   This figure would be the first sculpture of mine to depict a walking figure. Movement and walking are associated with agency in my work. The fact that my figures are often ‘on the move’ speaks to their ability to assert their own will and exist within their own reality, rather than existing solely for the edification of the viewer. Similarly, I feel there is great political power in showing a woman walking in the public sphere as opposed to being posed or static: the gesture illuminates the forward moment of all women collectively. Fig 1. Lady in Blue (Tschabalala Self) Model for Fourth Plinth Commission, Trafalgar Square, London 2026 © Tschabalala Self, Courtesy of the artist and Pilar Corrias, London

Rami Jarrah is a Syrian political activist who played a major role in exposing the Syrian regime’s war crimes during the 2011 Syrian Revolution. During a time when international journalists were not allowed in Syria, Rami operated under the alias of ‘Alexander Page’, where he would document the war crimes committed by the Syrian government and share them on social media and to news outlets around the world. His bravery and fearlessness played a major role in exposing the truth on the ground, leading to him being awarded an International Press Freedom Award in 2012 from the Canadian Journalists for Free Expression. CJLPA : Welcome, Mr Rami Jarrah. I’d like to begin by thanking you for taking the time to come and interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art  to discuss your story as a political activist and a human rights defender. I want to start with your life prior to your birth, by looking at the life of your parents. Your father , Nouri al-Jarrah, was a longtime Syrian dissident to the Baath party. On the other hand, your mother Lena Tibi was a member of the Syrian National Council, working as a representative of the opposition movement against the Syrian government. Your parents were eventually exiled out of Syria and they lived in Lebanon, maybe around the late 1970s. Can you please tell me about  the events that led to them being exiled from Syria?   Rami Jarrah : For my mum, it’s much more straightforward. She actually grew up in Lebanon. She was a poet and my dad was  also a poet . T he sort of activities they were involved in were  not exactly liked by the Syrian regime or the political elite. My  dad, who grew up in Syria, was  a part of the Communist Party, which during  that time was headed by Khalid Bakdash. What happened at the time was that Hafez al- Assad declared unification , which was basically bringing all the political parties together , and o ne of the parties that joined the unification was the Communist Party . P eople like my dad and I think many figures of the Syrian opposition considered that move to be a political game that Khalid Bakdhash himself signed up for. So they defected from the party . I don’t think it was really a very public defection, but it was really just: ‘okay, this party doesn’t represent us’. My dad left the party , I  think you’re correct in saying towards the  end of the 70s, or maybe just the beginning of the 80s, and he went to Lebanon.   I actually heard the story from my grandma the first time I ever went to Syria . When  I sat with her, she had not seen my dad in like 25-30 years. She said: ‘h e told me he was going to buy parsley and she hasn’t seen him since ’.  He didn’t want her to worry, but he basically left because anyone who opposed  that unification was basically in trouble in Syria, anyone that would write their opinion on what was going on , like the  massacres that took place in all of Syria, but mainly in Homs. There were people in the Communist party;  although it is painted as this attack by the dictatorship in Syria or by a fundamentalist Islamic community, which to some extent can be justified or not the attack itself .   It was, to some extent,  explained as  an Islamic movement, but at the time, it was supported by people in the Communist Party, because it was in opposition to a dictatorship. That’s  th e one thing they had in common at the time , the Communist Party and people in the Muslim Brotherhood and whatnot. E ven  in 2011, you had people who were secularists, people who have religio n.   I t’s something that they all have in common recently, as well ; that they all oppose the government. That might not seem like a good enough reason for people with totally  different opinions or totally different backgrounds to come together. For someone who lives in Syria, I understand why that was a good enough reason. My parents before they went into adulthood had no longer any relation or connection to Syria  and they ended up living in Lebanon , t hen during the Lebanese civil war moving to Cyprus.   CJLPA : I want to fast forward now to the times of Hafez al-Assad, before the 2000s. Hafez al- Assad’s era is not really documented. There was a complete media blackout in Syria and state propaganda was very strong at the time. How would you describe Hafez al- Assad’s rule to people  who are not aware?   RJ : One thing that was distinctive from the rule of his son, Bashar al- Assad, is that Hafez al- Assad had created a system in which he was in direct contact with every critical facility or organisation in Syria. For example, in the Palestinian branch the head of the branch would be in direct contact with Hafez al-Assad. He had direct contact with some of these institutions or organisations.   F or example , this is hearsay, a street cleaning company, the head of that organisation will be in direct contact with Hafez al-Assad. The head of the electricity department in Damascus would be in direct contact with Hafez  al-Assad. The train institution and department will  be in direct contact with Hafez al-Assad.

Elsa Taquet has been serving as a Senior Legal Advisor for TRIAL International’s program in the Democratic Republic of the Congo since September 2015. Before joining TRIAL International, she interned with the Emergencies Team at Human Rights Watch, focusing on the armed conflict in the Central African Republic. Commencing her legal career as a criminal law trainee handling legal aid cases in Quebec, Elsa is a qualified lawyer in the region. Possessing an LLM in International Law from the Graduate Institute of International Studies and Development in Geneva (Switzerland), a Master’s degree in Transnational Law, and a Law degree from Quebec (Canada), Elsa is an expert in safeguarding vulnerable populations during armed conflicts. In the ongoing conflict in Ukraine, Elsa plays a pivotal role in TRIAL International’s involvement in addressing war-related matters. Her expertise contributes significantly to the organisation’s efforts in protecting vulnerable populations and addressing international crimes.   CJLPA :   Welcome, Ms Elsa Taquet. Thank you very much for taking the time to come and interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art  to discuss your work at TRIAL International, a non-governmental organisation that fights international crimes and provides victims access to justice. Different legal avenues enable the international community to prosecute crimes committed by state actors. At TRIAL, the focus is on domestic investigation based on universal jurisdiction. Can you please provide us with more overview and insight into what this means and how it works in practice?   Elsa Taquet : I want to start by saying that in times of conflict, the prioritisation of the prosecution and the investigation of core international crime by the domestic jurisdictions themselves is a way for international justice to be more reactive and efficient. What we are seeing here with the Ukrainian conflict is that the Ukrainian authorities have the primary mandate to investigate and prosecute core international crimes committed on their territories. If they are willing and capable to do so, the focus should be on them primarily.   They need additional expertise and resources to help and assist them. They are the main actors that should be investigating simply because they have access to the crime scenes, are in contact with a large number of victims and witnesses, and have also been able to arrest some suspects, so they are definitely the main jurisdiction to do it.   But it does not happen in a vacuum. What is interesting here is how, in complement to what the Ukrainian authorities can do, other domestic jurisdictions can assist in pushing the accountability agenda forward. For example, by triggering universal or extraterritorial jurisdiction, some countries can take on investigating some of the war crimes or other types of quarantine national crimes that were committed since the full-scale invasion in Ukraine.   In that sense, they are able to assist the Ukrainian authorities and other international mechanisms where they are not necessarily the best equipped to target some types of cases. For example, they can bridge some of the current gaps that we have seen in the Ukrainian criminal system in responsibility, which is something that Ukrainian authorities are not necessarily able to prosecute because they do not have that in their legal framework. But they also have additional resources and expertise in profiling perpetrators who are likely to travel abroad, for example. If we look at the international justice sector right now, when it comes to the Ukrainian conflict, it is crucial to see the key role that domestic jurisdiction can play.

Dhondup Wangchen is a Tibetan filmmaker. As a self-taught filmmaker, he secretly shot Leaving Fear Behind  in response to the Beijing 2008 Olympics and the International Olympic Committee’s failed promise of improved rights for the Tibetan people. The documentary was cut together from footage smuggled out of Tibet and uncovered life in Tibet under Chinese communist rule. Dhondup was subsequently imprisoned for six years during the 2008 Tibetan uprising for subversion of state power. After his release from prison in 2014, he was placed under heavy surveillance, only escaping to the US and being granted asylum in December 2017, then testifying in front of the US Congressional Executive Commission on China.   In this interview, Dhondup Wangchen was aided by Norbu, who served as a translator. As the interview progressed, Norbu assisted in translating Dhondup Wangchen’s views, thoughts, and insights into English. CJLPA :   Welcome, Dhondup Wangchen. I would like to begin by thanking you both for taking the time to come and interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art  to discuss your work as a human rights activist . I want to begin by asking you about your life in Tibet and how it was growing up. What was life like for you and your family up until the IOC’s failed promise? Was the Chinese influence gradual or something that was consistently felt?   Dhondup Wangchen :  I grew up in the very rural Eastern side of Tibet. I grew up in an extreme sort of poverty because I grew up in  a very big family of 10 siblings. So, we always had severe financial hardship. Because of those financial hardships, I was not able to go to school. The trace of Chinese suppression is not something that just happened abruptly in 2008 during the Olympics— it has been happening for decades . My great-grandfather and great-grandmother were  subjugated by Chinese oppression during the Cultural   R evolution, the former being arrested. Even during those times, your crops were forcefully taken, taxed very unlawfully, and your property taken without any sort of regard for law. So it has been happening for decades and right up until 2008. In Tibet, we saw the Beijing Olympics as a global international platform to speak up.   CJLPA :   What is the nature of China’s oppressive interest in Tibet?   D W : So, China has a policy of trying to eradicate things through a ‘O ne China’ policy where they’re trying to turn all these cultures into one.   CJLPA :   Sinicization.   DW :  Exactly. And then from a financial  perspective, they have Tibet as a wealth of natural resources and a very strong global position. So, they implement very systemic policies to eradicate Tibetan culture and identity and take away all the natural resources.

Roshi Rouzbehani, a London-based Iranian illustrator, uses her captivating artwork to champion social causes. Beyond captivating aesthetics, her editorial and portrait illustrations address critical issues like gender equality, women’s rights, and mental health awareness, sparking conversations and advocating for positive change.   CJLPA : Thank you for taking the time to interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art to discuss your work as an illustrator and artist with your pieces having been featured in publications such as The New Yorker , the  Guardian , The Washington Post , and numerous others. Your illustrations and portraits are known for advocating for the rights of Iranian women. Could you share the specific experiences or events that initially drew you to this cause?   Roshi Rouzbehani :   I have always felt a deep connection to the advocacy for the rights of Iranian women, shaped by my upbringing in the oppressive patriarchal regime of Iran. In this societal framework, women often find themselves lowered to second-class citizenship, confronting various challenges and injustices. The struggles faced by political prisoners within my family and circle of friends exposed me to the harsh realities of existence under such a system.   Having resided in Iran until my early twenties, I closely witnessed the profound impact of religious dictatorship on every facet of life. This firsthand experience ignited a determination within me to employ my illustrations and portraits as a powerful tool for highlighting these pervasive issues. Through my art, my objective is not only to encapsulate the strength and resilience of Iranian women, but also to catalyze change and advocate for a society that is more just and equitable, enabling women to fully embrace the rights and freedoms they rightfully deserve. 'Free Tehran' (Roshi Rouzbehani) CJLPA : In light of recent events, such as the cases of Mahsa Amini and Armita Geravand, how do you see your role in raising awareness about human rights issues in Iran, and more specifically, women’s rights?   RR : I feel responsibility to amplify the voices of the oppressed and to challenge the societal norms that maintain gender inequality in Iran. Illustrations have the power to evoke emotions and create a sense of empathy transcending language barriers so that everyone can understand without the need for translation. Through visually portraying the experiences and struggles of Iranian people, I can contribute to raise awareness about their rights. My work serves as a catalyst for social change, aiming to inspire a transformative impact on the collective consciousness.

Jessa Crisp is a licensed professional counsellor, public speaker, and anti-trafficking activist. A victim of sex trafficking as a child, Jessa is now working on a PhD in Counsellor Education and Supervision. She is the former CEO of Bridge Hope, an anti-trafficking non-profit within the Denver-metro area and has worked with hundreds of individuals who’ve experienced trauma, depression, grief, and anxiety. CJLPA : Welcome, Jessa. I would like to begin by thanking you for taking the time to share your story as a heroic and courageous survivor of human trafficking. I want to start the interview by asking you to tell us about your childhood and how you first became a victim of sex trafficking.   Jessa Crisp : I was born into a family that I use the word evil to describe. They perpetrated a lot, my childhood had a lot of sexual abuse connected to it. I have seen images of my child pornography, for which technically the term is child sexual abuse material, from when I was a really small child, I would say a toddler. So I would have to assume that my trafficking started when I was very young, because, at least in the US, the federal definition of child sexual abuse material is human trafficking. And that is a huge part of my early childhood experiences and setting the stage for other people to purchase me. I experienced a lot of extreme abuse and traumas. I was not allowed to go to school as a child. When I was 17, I was taken to a hotel in Indianapolis where I was labour trafficked during the day and sex trafficked at night. That was a huge part of what I knew as my ‘normal’. I did not know anything else, just those extreme abuses. That truly lays the foundation for the person that I am today, where my passions exist, how I see myself, but also just how I see humanity. I have experienced the very worst of humanity, I have experienced that gross indignity of what humans have the ability to do. But on the other hand, I have also experienced so much joy and beauty, so much healing through humanity as well. So for me, holding that disparity between such stark experiences has really given me this desire to go, ‘how can I be able to be that kindness, that verse of good in the lives of others, but also create change around the globe, and how human trafficking is seen and engaged with?’   CJLPA : Thank you for sharing this difficult past. You were so young when you were subjected to these heinous crimes. And the people you would trust the most, the people that were meant to protect you, your parents, were the ones that subjected you to these unforgivable crimes. At such a young age, did you know what was happening?   JC : For me it was just such a normal part of how I saw life, all I knew was people using and abusing me. My body hurt so, yes, I knew that something was not right. I remember looking out my window at an elementary school just beyond my backyard and seeing kids play in the playground and seeing kids walk to school with lunches. I remember just being so curious about that mystery, the mystery that lay beyond the confines of my own realities. I remember having those big existential questions as a child, but yet it was also so normal that I did not know how else to question it. So I always wanted to figure out what it would look like for me to have a day at that school. What would that be like? But I also did not know anything else. And it was not until years later—I am still in this process of realizing how abnormal my childhood was, and how all of that abnormality has continued to impact my life. I am still on that journey, trying to conceptualize what that means and what that looks like. But that was all I knew. And so it was my normal.

Sudanese filmmaker Ibrahim Ahmad exposes human rights abuses through his award-winning films. Chronicling the atrocities in Sudan, his work fights for justice and a better future. CJLPA : We would like to begin by thanking you for taking the time to interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art . Your extensive career as a film maker, combined with your expertise as an activist, provides a valuable perspective on pressing Sudanese human rights issues and political questions, and their overlap. We would specifically like to examine key issues in respect to the film industry in Sudan and the issues it has faced under different regimes in Sudan, but also more broadly in the name of human rights. I wanted to begin by asking you to briefly outline your career and what prompted your decision to delve into the field of human rights advocacy?   Ibrahim Ahmad : I started film making in 2014. First, we started with a short fiction film—a drama about my late aunt. We posted it on YouTube and got positive reviews from our friends. For that, we shot the film with whatever cameras we had, and we had a lot of technical issues. But through the years, we developed ourselves and each time we make a film, we progress a bit into understanding the art of filmmaking.   By the last film, which is soon to be released, we fully understand how filmmaking is made in the whole distribution, production, and how to bring on talent. We don’t have professional academics in Sudan, so you just learn by mistakes. There’s no institute that teaches us filmmaking, and even the universities that have filmmaking are too weak. They don’t give you the full stretch of filmmaking. They just teach video production rather than film production because film is way broader. I decided to leave because I was living in a difficult area next to the airport, and we all know that the airport is one of the important places when it comes to war because either side wants to seize it, to be able to halt their travels or even make use of the airplanes for themselves.   When I was initially aware of what was happening, our building where we were living was immediately raided by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), the paramilitary force that makes up one side of the ongoing conflict in Sudan, and we couldn’t really move around with ease, so we had to sneak out in the back, and we couldn’t even go to the shops. All of the shops around were destroyed or began to be destroyed or emptied because people were panicking. We had to leave because there was no electricity, no water, so it was unbearable. I went to my friend’s house in another state nearby to regroup and understand what’s going to happen. Because Sudan was lacking professional videographers, I media outlets began reaching out to me and I started to do reports on what was happening in Sudan.   Initially, I started interviewing people who were coming from Khartoum to that city. That city [where I was staying] was one of the main cities to travel to or to pass by because it was safe. I went out to interview people about the situation, what they went through, and how many days it took them to reach there. Even though it was just a three-hour drive from the capital city, some people said it took them seven or eight hours to come there because the road was full of RSF and all these checkpoints, and also, they couldn’t go through the main road because it was dangerous, so they had to take shortcuts or navigate through the desert in order to reach to a safe place. Other than that, a lot of camps were created and schools and dorms in almost all hospitals, so an influx of people was coming in. We went out and interviewed them, also asking what was happening to them, how was the journey, what they’ve lost, and what they wish they had at that moment. A lot of them lost their houses and their belongings and some of them were willing to go back home because they couldn’t bear the idea that they were away from their home and their valuables left behind.

Nila Ibrahimi is a 16-year-old Afghan women’s rights activist who narrowly escaped the Taliban following their return in August 2021. Upon the overthrow of Kabul in August 2021, Nila’s online notoriety as an activist and her status as a member of the Hazara ethnic community rendered her a target of the Taliban. Nila now resides in Canada with her family and continues to raise her voice to injustice as she raises awareness and fights for the all the women left behind in Afghanistan. CJLPA : Welcome Nila Ibrahimi, and many thanks for taking the time to come and interview with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art , to discuss your story of having to lose everything you love and know in the name of fighting for women’s rights. Following the return of the Taliban in August 2021, you voiced the need to protect women’s human rights through your online presence as an activist. As a result, you became a target to the Taliban and this put you and your family in immediate danger, having to narrowly escape Afghanistan.   I would like to begin by asking you to briefly take us through your story, from your initial reaction when the Taliban first reached Dasht-e-Barchi to having to escape your homeland and everything you know to find refuge in Canada.   Nila Ibrahimi : It all started from 15 August when the Taliban got to Kabul. Before that, they had conquered the other provinces of the country, and Kabul could be next. But it was shocking and so horrible that it happened in a day. I mean, I can’t say that day was a normal day in the beginning, but we were just having breakfast and I was thinking if I should start studying for tests that we could have the next day.   I was in the middle of studying when the neighbours told my mom that they had arrived. That was when we were all in panic and we started burning the documents of my whole family, especially of my father who had passed away a month after I was born. And it was so shocking because, from what I remember, I was feeling like Kabul and Afghanistan—our whole country—was kind of trapped with the Taliban, people who did not believe in democracy and in women’s rights or in human rights in general. And I felt like the world had shut their eyes on us. It was just a very difficult situation. That’s all I could say.   CJLPA : Going back to your upbringing, and having just spoken about how you have lost your father at such a young age when you were only a few months old, in regard to the Taliban’s requirement that men accompany women on outings, how did not having a male chaperone in your family affect you and your mother? Were there hardships specific to your family dynamic because of this?   NI : My father passed away a month after I was born, so in the first period of the Taliban coming to Afghanistan, I was not born. I have just heard the stories that my mom told me about her not being able to go outside the home without a man because it wasn’t allowed during that time. And I think, even if women have the mindset that they are independent, by these small rules, it can change by the passage of time. Them having to rely on a man for doing small things like going out to go shopping or for a walk, all of these things can affect their mindset in the long run of them thinking that they’re dependent on men. I think it’s a whole big philosophy in general—men and women and their rights—but what I know is that they should have equal rights. But that wasn’t the case back then. And I think, now that the Taliban are in Afghanistan, it’s going to happen by the passage of time. I hear from the people back home that girls with different coverages, who aren’t more modest, are going to be taken by the Taliban and God knows what will happen to them. So they have no other choice than having a male chaperone wherever they go.