As Hondurans sort through the wreckage of human rights and civil
liberties violations that occurred following the June 28th coup, one
pressing issue the country will have to address is the wave of violence
directed against members of the LGBT community.
As National Party leader Porfirio “Pepe” Lobo is inaugurated president of Honduras, we can’t just pretend the June 28th coup and its bitter aftermath never occurred.
The Inter-American Commission on Human Rightsjust released a devastating 147-page catalogue of the violations of human rights and civil liberties that have occurred since the coup in Honduras.
Elections took place Sunday, November 29th in Honduras with National Party leader Porfirio Lobo declared the winner.
But
elections carried out under a state of emergency, with visible military
and police presence, by a government installed by coup, with a
significant movement opposed to the coup calling for abstention, and
with the deposed President still holed up in the center of the capital
city in the Brazilian Embassy, are no cause for celebration. As we wrote to the State Department
on November 24th, “a cloud of intimidation and restrictions on assembly
and free speech affect the climate in which these elections take place…
basic conditions do not exist for free, fair and transparent elections
in Honduras.”
As we give from our own pockets and encourage our government to fund relief and reconstruction in earthquake-devastated Haiti, we can’t let skepticism about the past success of aid efforts dissuade us from responding. But at the same time, we can’t ignore real concerns. Groups involved in human rights and health related work in Haiti issued a call for Haiti relief and reconstruction efforts to respect the following principles:
“Vote? Me? No way? For what?” said the young man, almost spitting out the words. “What is there to vote for in this election?”
All over Honduras, youth “in resistance,” women in resistance, artists
in resistance, lawyers in resistance, well-dressed and blackberried
political party leaders in resistance, campesinos in resistance, are
saying no to these November 29th elections. While the word
“resistance” may conjure up images of masked guerrillas, this image is
totally misleading. As I could see in a trip this week to Tegucigalpa,
it is, so far, in general an extraordinarily peaceful, civic
resistance.
As I advocate for a U.S. policy towards the region based on justice and
human rights, I’ve had easier years during the Bush Administration. For
an administration that promised hope and change, both are in short
supply.
In every province of Colombia, women long to know what happened to
their husbands, to their daughters, to their sons. Children want to
know what happened to their fathers, to their mothers.
Even Colombia’s associations of families of the disappeared have long
estimated that at most the disappeared totaled 15,000. And many did
not believe the toll was so high.
But as forensic teams are conducting exhumations following the partial
paramilitary demobilization, prosecutors are interviewing paramilitary
leaders, Colombia’s National Search Commission is soliciting
information from the victims, and victims are organizing to know the
truth, the scale of the human catastrophe is slowly being unveiled.