Originally published on the CGS blog on July 29, 2013.
An internet search for “social justice movements” yields what you might think – rights-based campaigns for race, gender, sexual orientation, and class equality. Courses about social movements often include histories of the Civil Rights Movement, heterosexism, and class struggles. A few themes dominate how social justice movements, and social justice as a historiographic subject more broadly, are seen. First, domestic policy movements understandably receive more attention than foreign policy movements. The peak of the Civil Rights Era in the 1960s galvanized the country on an unprecedented scale while the anti-Vietnam War movement, arguably the most important American foreign policy social movement of the 20th century, lagged behind in the political margins. Second, social movements are conventionally conceptualized around a particular form of identity politics such as women, LGBTQ, or African-Americans. These communities provide a clear organizing base to mobilize for political will-building. Third, social movements are typically rights-based – oppressed groups staking a claim to rights granted by governments.
Globalization is changing the conventional domestic vs. foreign policy social justice movement gap. Increasingly global social networks provide a means for people, especially youth, to connect in ways that didn’t exist thirty years ago. As a result, networks of international solidarity are growing. The apartheid divestment movement, reignited by the Soweto uprising, sparked a broader push by the US and others in the the 1980s to end the oppressive regime in South Africa. It also signaled a new era in foreign policy organizing; an era of youth organizing to affect social injustices in historically ignored regions. Moreover, the divestment movement organized around an indirect link to the apartheid system – US investment – rather than direct involvement such as a US troop presence.
The anti-genocide movement is a 21st century iteration of the new foreign policy organizing tradition typified by the apartheid divestment movement. Its mission is simple: prevent mass violence that targets civilians by ensuring human security and, if violence begins, advocate for political and social conflict resolution. The modern anti-genocide movement began in the late 1990s after the international community witnessed nearly a million people die during acts of genocide in Rwanda and Bosnia. Genocide in Darfur during the early 2000s sparked new organizations such as the Save Darfur Coalition, the Genocide Intervention Network, STAND, and a host of other initiatives from foreign policy advocacy groups aimed at resolving the Sudanese crisis and preventing future massacres. The movement gained momentum in 2012 when President Obama created the Atrocities Prevention Board, a multi-agency group tasked with long-term conflict prevention efforts. However, this movement (now often called the atrocity prevention movement because of broadened goals), is seldom, if ever, discussed in the same sentence as the Civil Rights Movement or the LGBTQ revolution.
There are four main reasons why atrocity prevention is seen as a different type of social movement. First, much of the movement’s language is framed as a negative. During the height of the Darfur genocide, activists rallied against the Bashir regime and generalized the movement as “anti-genocide.” Conversely, some of the most successful movements (civil rights, LGBTQ rights, etc.) advocate for an outcome such as the right to same-sex marriage. The need for a “pro-” position is evident in the abortion debate where both sides self-selected “pro-choice” and “pro-life” instead of the conventional “pro-” and “anti-” dichotomy (i.e. pro-life/anti-life, pro-choice/anti-choice). Second, the atrocity prevention movement addresses social and political problems in places often ignored by or unknown to most Americans. Understandably, advocating on behalf of domestic identities (i.e. LGBTQ, African-American, etc.) is often emotionally and logistically easier than on behalf of people you’ll likely never meet in places you might not visit. Third, the atrocity prevention movement (as originally thought of as the genocide prevention movement) is relatively new. However, atrocity prevention isn’t. Henry Dunant published “A Memory of Sulferino” in 1861; several NGOs attempted to save women, children, and injured soldiers during World War I; the UN passed the Genocide Convention in 1948; the international community drafted the Geneva Convention in 1949; and finally a high-level panel created the Responsibility to Protect doctrine in 2001. However, the atrocity prevention movement (i.e. mass mobilization, movement literature, etc.) arguably began in the early 2000s as youth, with greater access to information communications technology, galvanized Darfur as an advocacy cause. Fourth, and perhaps most importantly, atrocity prevention is seen as a technical field for academics, think tanks, and high-level international organizations. Even the name – “genocide/atrocity prevention” – requires knowledge about international law. This (mis)perception – that atrocity prevention is limited to a few elite advocates – limits the size of the movement and, maybe, its effectiveness.
Some argue that atrocity prevention is most effective when conducted strictly within government institutions. While the logic is reasonable considering the marginalized role of foreign policy in elections and atrocity prevention’s niche within “national security” strategy, there remains a role for lower-barrier advocacy (i.e. lobbying, raising awareness, etc.) that proliferates a norm of conflict prevention. Moreover, if atrocity prevention is left to high-level bureaucrats in the national security complex, the US, and likely others, will only act when it’s in the supposed interests of the state. Outside advocates have a place in NGOs that perform many of the functions of government agencies, but operate on behalf of civilians rather than the state. There, they are free to explore unconventional atrocity prevention strategies that bureaucrats may not.
The atrocity prevention movement will likely never reach the scale of the civil rights or LGBTQ rights movements, but one way to get more advocates involved with atrocity prevention at all levels is to frame the movement as rights-based social justice. This right-based agenda can replace, or at least complement, the current national security framework with a human security framework – one that focuses on protecting people rather than borders. Tangibly, this entails several changes to the movement’s theory and practice:
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Switching the movement’s language from negative priorities (i.e. stopping violence, opposing regimes, etc.) to positive priorities (promoting rights-creation, empowering local communities and governments, etc.)
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Making issues of atrocity prevention as relevant as possible to a Global North advocacy base. Almost all Americans lack the experience of civilians living in conflict areas which makes empathy-building crucial. Technology is one tool to make distant issues relevant, but inviting diaspora members and survivors into movement conversations is also important.
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Placing the atrocity prevention movement in its rightful historical context. Advocates often date the concept of genocide/atrocity prevention to the 2000’s which is not only arrogant, but also alienating for many in the social justice community that value their position in a long history of struggle. Situating atrocity prevention in the tradition of Dunant, Jebb, and Lemkin will empower advocates seeking to join a cause larger than themselves.
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Creating opportunities for amateur advocates while preparing them for the variety of roles atrocity prevention advocates play through education and disruptive thinking training. After these advocates are engaged with the movement, NGOs should cultivate them as thought leaders and nurture their presence in the atrocity prevention community.
A refocusing of the atrocity prevention movement – toward people-centered social justice – can help resolve the internal tension between political will-building and elite networks. A social justice, rights-based (i.e. safe homes, productive work spaces, accountable leaders [etc.], and more broadly, a peaceful livelihood) umbrella has the potential to grow the movement, make it more effective, and, ultimately, join the ranks of other modern social justice movements. No longer does there need to be a dichotomy between elite policy-makers and ordinary advocates. If atrocity prevention is to remain a creative, forward-looking field it cannot rely on stale solutions from the state or marginalized grassroots activism. Healthy dialogue and coordinated strategy between advocates, including NGO thought-leaders, and government agencies is required for any movement, including atrocity prevention. The social justice tent houses lawyers, activists, parents, students, writers, academics, documentarians, voters, protesters, politicians, and bureaucrats. Atrocity prevention needs them all.
