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.

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.

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.

Frances Hui is policy and advocacy coordinator for the Committee for Freedom and Hong Kong Foundation. Having become an activist at the age of 14, Hui left Hong Kong to study journalism in the USA in September 2016. After returning to Hong Kong, she became the first Hong Kong activist to be granted political asylum in the United States following the adoption of the National Security Law in 2020.   CJLPA : I’d like to begin by thanking you, Frances, for speaking with The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art  to discuss your story of having to leave what became a threatening Hong Kong after you fought endlessly for human rights and democracy. I was hoping to learn more about your personal experiences in Hong Kong. What ignited the spark in you to speak out for human rights and democracy for the people?   Frances Hui : During my speech in Geneva, I mentioned that the first protests that I had ever been to were [regarding] the 20th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square massacre. In Hong Kong, we traditionally have an annual vigil to commemorate the incident and that was my first time attending a public assembly. At that time, I was about ten years old, I think—growing up, learning of Hong Kong as being part of China and then all of a sudden getting to know like this piece of history was very daunting for me—and [especially] the fact that it only happened about ten years before I was born. It feels very close to me, it was just two decades ago, not a long time ago. The fact that in Hong Kong we are able to rally publicly, legally, without exposing ourselves to risk, I feel like it’s some sort of like—I don’t know I don’t know if it applies to everyone—but it feels like there is some sort of responsibility that comes to me. I feel like being a Hong Konger we should utilize the rights and freedoms that we enjoy. So it was a powerful moment to be in the middle of the crowd, knowing that everyone has the same values. It is very powerful when you chant the same slogan, and have people surrounding you who are with you and upholding the same values and probably had a similar culture as you growing up as well. It is something that draws me to public rallies, people’s movements. The feeling of being in the crowd and surrounded by people with the same values—I think that was the time that when my eyes were opened and I realised that this is our privilege and it is something that we should treasure and enjoy.   CJLPA : You became involved with activism at such a young age. What specifically were the rights and civil liberties infringed upon by the CCP in Hong Kong when you were growing up that brought everyone together?   FH : I think that when I was growing up way, the way that the CCP is trying to manipulate, Hong Kong is a little different from now. We always describe the situation as like putting a frog in a room temperature water, where it does not realise it is being cooked until it is done cooking. Now, I think [the situation] is more drastic [in terms of] the way that they infringe on our rights. Right now in Hong Kong, people don’t necessarily have the rights to go to the streets and speak up for themselves and speak up against a government. Back then, it was different. We had all those rights and freedoms. We had a legal system that hold the governments accountable. We had the justice system, even if we were arrested or something like that. But more so, I think people in Hong Kong back then were trying to create progress in order to achieve a democracy. One thing that we always try to tell people is that Hong Kong has never enjoyed a full democracy—a one person, one vote type of democratic system. In fact, it was promised in the basic law that eventually Hong Kong would develop its own electoral system and that people get to vote for their chief executive. That was one of the reasons why the 2014 Umbrella Movement broke out. I think before 2019, all we were trying to do was make progress on that promise, to eventually allow Hong Kong’s people to choose their own leader, the chief executive.

Anwar al-Bunni is a Syrian human rights defender who has fought for the right to freedom of speech and for democratic reform in Syria. He has defended individuals including Riad al-Turk, Kurdish protestors, and various media outlets shut down by the Syrian regime. Anwar’s interest in defending the human rights of Syrians against its oppressive government came after he was beaten and tortured by the Syrian forces during the Hama military sweep of 1981. After his escape from Syria in 2012, he has been continuously fighting the Syrian regime from Berlin. He has been awarded a number of awards throughout his career and was featured on Time Magazine’s ‘The 100 Most Influential People of 2022’. CJLPA : Good afternoon, Mr al-Bunni. It is an honour to have the opportunity to interview you for The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art . You’re an inspiring figure in much of your work defending the human rights of all Syrians around the world for the last few decades. Much of your work in Syria was done through pro bono cases, having to sell your car to pay your bills. Having said that, we would like to begin by asking you what motivated you to start a career as a human rights lawyer given the oppressive nature of the government you were residing under?   Anwar al-Bunni : It’s the situation I was in in Syria. When I was just in high school, my brothers and my sister were arrested for three years the first time, without any trial and without the possibility of contacting them. In the detention place, you couldn’t visit them once every two months, or every month—it was as the security allowed.   This was not only the case for three of my brothers, and one of my sisters, but also for some of my friends. It started in 1977, so from that time, I decided to be a lawyer to defend political prisoners or prisoners who expressed their opinion. After studying civil engineering in the first place, I decided to go to law university and study law to become a lawyer.   CJLPA:  Can you please tell us more about your work defending people who were prosecuted for expressing their opinions in nonviolent ways?   AB : You know, in Syria, they don’t send them to court. They keep them in detention places, sometimes without any contact. Why did I study law? Because two of my brothers were re-arrested, and my sister was also arrested. They disappeared for six years—we didn’t have any information about them.   So while I was a lawyer in 1986, two of my brothers and my sister were in jail. I knew there was nothing anybody or a lawyer could do in this situation. They transferred them to the High Security Court in 1994 and I knew the role of the lawyer was zero, because we didn’t have any access to the files. It was an exceptional court. We couldn’t do anything in front of it. The judgement or the sentence came with the file to that court. The judges just applied the sentence.

Ali Safavi is a member of Iran’s Parliament in Exile, National Council of Resistance of Iran (NCRI), and President of Near East Policy Research (NEPR), a consulting and policy analysis firm in Washington, DC. A sociologist by career, Safavi studied and taught at UCLA, California State University Los Angeles and University of Michigan from 1972 until 1981. An activist during the anti-Shah student movement in the 1970s in the US, Safavi has been involved in Iranian affairs since then and has lectured and written extensively on issues related to Iran, Iraq, terrorism, nuclear proliferation, and the political process in the Middle East. This interview was conducted on 4 November 2023.   Personal Introduction   CJLPA : Can you elaborate on your role and experiences as an activist during the Anti-Shah protests in the 1970s and your involvement in the student movement in the US during that period?   Ali Safavi : Before the revolution, I pursued studies in sociology at UCLA and taught at California State University, and the University of Michigan from 1972 to 1981. My older brother, Hossein, who was later executed by the clerical regime at the age of 29, was also studying in the US at that time. He focused on aerospace engineering at Northrop University in California and was a prolific writer and editor. Both Hossein and I actively participated in the vibrant anti-Shah student movement of the 1970s. We distributed pamphlets and reading materials opposing the Shah’s corrupt dictatorship, participated in meetings, conferences, and protests by Iranian students in Los Angeles, the Bay area, and elsewhere.   The plight of political prisoners, especially the leaders of the People’s Mojahedin Organization of Iran (PMOI) also known by its Farsi name, the Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK), deeply resonated with us in the mid-1970s. The MEK, initially operating underground during the mid-1960s, gained widespread recognition in 1971 after the arrest of most of its leaders and members. Figures like Mehdi Rezaei became prominent in the struggle. At only 19, Mehdi Rezaei delivered a poignant and historic discourse against the Shah during a military tribunal, knowing it would lead to severe torture and his execution. His sacrifices earned him the affectionate nickname ‘the rose of the revolution’ among the Iranian people, and he was executed by a firing squad in 1972. Mehdi Rezaei’s impact on society was so significant that Ahmad Shamlou, arguably Iran’s most famous poet, dedicated an entire poem in his honor.   The struggle, conviction, bravery, and perseverance under SAVAK’s brutal tortures of individuals like Mehdi Rezaei and Ali Asghar Badizadegan, one of MEK’s three original founders, inspired many students studying abroad, including myself. Badizadegan, despite enduring unspeakable agony, remained silent and was executed in May 1972. My understanding of the MEK deepened through reading the last defense of their leadership, including Massoud Rajavi, at the Shah’s military tribunals and their books smuggled out of Iran.   The historic protests against the Shah’s visit to the US in November 1977 crystallized dissent. Tear gas filled the air as students confronted the regime, capturing an iconic moment of the Shah wiping his tears, induced by the gas, behind President Carter’s podium at the White House. Mohammad Hanifnejad, the founder of the MEK, prophetically declared days before his execution, ‘Our deaths will serve to motivate and fuel the future struggles of our people’. Time has become the arbiter of truth, validating his foresight. Since those tumultuous days, the legacy of sacrifice has reverberated, becoming the catalyst for enduring struggles, and I am humbled to have played a very modest role in this historic odyssey.   CJLPA : Building on your experiences during the Anti-Shah student movement, are there specific incidents or encounters that significantly shaped your views on activism and the political landscape in Iran?   AS : My intellectual journey and political convictions during that period were shaped by numerous small and significant episodes and interactions. Two pivotal chapters, however, stand out as prominent markers.   The first chapter unfolded with the discovery of a new movement known as the MEK. Founded by visionary Muslim intellectuals—Mohammad Hanifnejad, Saeed Mohsen, and Ali Asghar Badizadegan—in September 1965, the organization aimed to replace the Shah’s dictatorship with a democratic and secular republic. The organization rooted its principles in a progressive and tolerant interpretation of Islam, presenting a counter-narrative to the rigid and medieval views propagated by clerics. Their remarkable achievement lay in their meticulous exploration of the Holy Quran and the Nahj al-Balagha (Path of Eloquence), authored by Ali, the first Shiite Imam. Through an in-depth examination of the teachings and traditions of Prophet Mohammed and the Shiite Imams, they successfully unearthed the authentic and original ethos and teachings of Islam. This endeavour effectively dispelled the misrepresentations of the religion that had been skewed by despotic leaders to further their own ends, thus unveiling the genuine, enlightened essence of Islam.

Mansour al-Omari is a Syrian human rights defender and legal researcher. He holds an LLM in Transitional Justice and Conflict. Al-Omari works with international and Syrian human rights organisations to hold the perpetrators of international crimes in Syria accountable. In 2012, al-Omari was detained and tortured by the Syrian government for 356 days for documenting its atrocities while working with the Syrian Centre for Media and Freedom of Expression as the supervisor of the Detainees Office.   CJLPA : Good afternoon, Mansour al-Omari. It is an honour to have the chance to interview you for The Cambridge Journal of Law, Politics, and Art . You have been a polarising figure in your work defending the human rights of all Syrians around the world for the last few decades.   Mansour al-Omari :   I appreciate your description of me as a polarising figure, as long as you mean that the two polarised divisions are the ones who support human rights and justice for all regardless of irrelevant considerations such as political, tribal, racial, or sectarian affiliations; and those who deny human rights and justice for all. CJLPA : When you first began working as a journalist, can you please describe the challenges you faced having to adhere to censorship by the Syrian government?   MO :   In 2011, the official Assad media, at its primitive level, was no longer able to confront the widespread citizen journalism. There were citizen journalists using social media accounts in every neighbourhood throughout Syria. The Assad regime realised the need to be present on social networking sites, which dominated the traditional media, so it had to enter this space. The regime’s organised presence on social media platforms began with the establishment of Internet centres affiliated with the security departments, in which people were employed, each with a large number of fake accounts on social networking sites. One of their tasks is to pursue posts and accounts related to the revolution, and to spread the regime’s narrative. This began in Internet cafés, including in Damascus, in the suburb of Harasta, in Latakia, and elsewhere. Then, centres dedicated to this activity arose, with each employee receiving a monthly salary of twenty thousand Syrian pounds (400 dollars) in 2011, a high income by Syrian standards. Subsequently, al-Assad supported the establishment of the so-called Syrian Electronic Army, whose mission was to spread the regime’s propaganda, and to hack newspapers, websites, and activists’ social media accounts.   In the same context, the Assad regime allowed the creation of orchestrated accounts on social networking sites of a news nature, under the supervision of intelligence, with the aim of confronting news accounts opposing the Assad regime narrative, including independent news websites and accounts of activists, in addition to publishing fabricated news and disinformation within the framework of psychological warfare during the war.

The book is a simple yet complex idea that has profound influence on culture, society, and religion that transcends time and civilization. The book is a platform or foundation for the study of the Humanities because it has so much power over the course of human life. The impact of books and the knowledge contained dictates human history, influences religious and political policy, supports the powerful, and inspires the repressed. In early book creation the relationship between word and image was essential. The word spoke to the privileged, the educated and the image informed the poor and illiterate, yet both groups needed books to guide their lives.   I grew up with books; my mother was a voracious reader and raised her children to cherish books. The book is a living memoir, a repository of memory and meaning that goes beyond the story that lies within. My work captures the physical body of the book as if it is a living figure with a spine, the leather cover is skin, and the pages flesh. The physical traits reflect the life of the book, both good and bad, exposing bumps, bruises, withering age, or a child's scribble. How often have you found a special memento in the pages of a book that floods your senses with memories? The Flag: J. Rosamond Johnson and Bob Cole, 2022, Ink Jet Print The Corn Stalk Fiddle: Paul Laurence Dunbar, 2022, Ink Jet Print The Hidden Life of Books explores various book collections. Chapter IV explores holdings in the British Library about Samuel Coleridge-Taylor and the African American musicians, thinkers, and poets he admired and collaborated with. One of Coleridge-Taylor’s earliest collaboration was with poet Paul Laurence Dunbar, whose poetry and prose are often written in ‘the negro cadence’. Coleridge-Taylor was moved by Negro spirituals and inspired to integrate the music into his compositions. These sounds were foreign and fascinating. Through Dunbar he met Rosamond Johnson, James Weldon Johnson, WEB Du Bois, and Booker T Washington. These men developed lifelong friendships, and a creative exchange that influenced the Harlem Renaissance years later.