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Events Lecture Series Participant Activities The WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet: Expanding the Conversation Around Salaries in the Arts Earlier this year, a spreadsheet originating in the USA was circulated within the international arts community detailing the salaries of various roles at museums, galleries and other arts institutions, and with a request for arts workers to add anonymous details of their own salaries to the spreadsheet. At the time of writing, that spreadsheet now contains over 3200 entries, the majority of which are from the USA, but also other countries such as Canada, the UK, Germany, Switzerland and Mexico. The accuracy of the data is unclear as contributors are anonymous and are encouraged to share as much or as little as they are comfortable with the purpose of the spreadsheet, titled Arts + All Museums Salary Transparency 2019 , is to bring an unprecedented level of transparency to the arts in terms of pay and to open up a dialogue between arts workers, with the hope of bringing about positive change in what is, traditionally, a relatively low-paid industry. At WCSCD 2019 we saw the importance of such a dialogue and discussed salaries with many of the curators and arts workers we met during the program, ultimately creating our own anonymous salary spreadsheet. The WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet includes salary information for a number of countries not currently found in the original spreadsheet or only mentioned a very small number of times, such as Serbia, Russia, China, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyz Republic, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Slovenia. It also includes information about general average and minimum salaries in each of the countries listed in order to illustrate how the salaries of arts workers compare to general salaries. In what is unlikely to come as a surprise to those who work in the arts, the WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet suggests that arts salaries often fail to reach average salaries and, in a number of countries, struggle to even meet recognised minimum standards. Discussions about salaries during the WCSCD program also uncovered other issues, including the lack of written agreements between funders and curators regarding curatorial fees, non-payment of agreed curatorial fees, and changes being made to the funding of projects without notifying curators in advance. The more that discussions around salaries and working conditions become the norm, the better it will be for arts workers. As Michelle Millar Fisher, an assistant curator in the European decorative arts and design department of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and one of the people who started the original spreadsheet, said: “If you don’t do it, everything stays the same. Sometimes it takes just one tiny action. Solidarity is the only way to affect great change.” text by Shasta Stevic WCSCD 2019 Salary Spreadsheet

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Events Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Educational Program  Program Participant Activities Tonight we invite you to encounter a collective archive of the 2022 What could/should curating do educational programme, which took place in Belgrade and other locations around the Post-Yugoslav region, between September and December this year. The departure point for this archive is a proposal by Biljana Ćirić, program curator and facilitator, to consider the means by which the discussions, events, inquiries and relationships developed during this time might be recorded or documented. Archiving is never neutral. Determinations are always made—by individuals, by collectives, by collecting institutions—about what knowledge is worth saving, the means by which knowledge is indexed, housed and cared for, who has access and on what terms. Within the framework of an alternative educational platform—with a loose and evolving curriculum, and no formalised method of assessment or grading—this exercise presents an opportunity to consider what alternative measures we might allow ourselves for the production of knowledge when freed from institutional modes of transmission and circulation. As such, these archives—both individually and collectively—do not simply record a series of shared (and at times differing) experiences. They include questions around how the embodied, linguistic, political, intimate, relational nature of experience and remembering, ranging in scope from the personal, to the national. Each contribution is informed by the “baggage” we carried with us, as a group of individuals from many different geographic and cultural contexts, many of whom had little relationship with Belgrade, Serbia or the Balkan region prior to this course. This “baggage” includes our different relationships to contemporary art’s infrastructures; our different fields of knowledge and networks of relationships; cultural and linguistic differences; differing relations to histories of colonialism, resource extraction and capitalist exploitation; and varying habits of thought, modes of making, inhabiting and formulating questions about the world. Through differing strategies of presentation and circulation, we hope to open up questions about what we have in common, as well as what separates us; what of ourselves is dispersed, and what is withheld. But the physical “archive” we share with you tonight is only a part of a wider set of relationships, experiences, idea exchanges, occasional encounters, gossip and experimenting. Tonight we celebrate the beauty and fragility of these moments. Be our guests at the two tables. Read silently. Read aloud. Whisper. Describe what you see. Share what you feel. Eat. Drink. Embrace. This archive is staged as something living, developing and transformational, ever evolving as our moments with you. Thank you for sharing this journey with us. We hope it’s not the end, but only a stop on the way. WC/SCD 2022 Adelina, Anastasia, Ginevra, Giuglia, Jelena, Karly, Lera, Sabine, Simon < Educational Program Participants >

Alumni Alumni 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 2019 Alumni Aigerim Kapar is an independent curator, cultural activist, and founder of the creative communication platform Artcom. She was born in 1987 in Kazakhstan and continues to live and work in Astana. Kapar curates and organizes exhibitions, urban art interventions, discussions, lectures, and workshops. To accomplish such wide-ranging initiatives she often collaborates closely with art and educational institutions, as well as scientific apparatuses. In 2015, she founded the open online platform Artcom in conjunction with the local art community. The platform brings together different cultural figures to share experiences and discover channels for greater interaction within society in order to develop and promote contemporary art and culture. In 2017, Aigerim initiated the Art Collider informal school—when art meets science. Through this initiative artists and scientists jointly conduct research and present lectures and discussions related to current issues. The results of the school are presented through exhibitions, publications, and audio-visual materials. Ana Roman has a Master’s degree in Human Geography from São Paulo University and is a doctoral student in Art History at the University of Essex. Her current research focuses on contemporary art and curatorship. Previously, she was an assistant curator for Between Construction and Appropriation: Antonio Dias, Geraldo de Barros and Rubens Gerchman in the 60s (SESC Pinheiros, São Paulo, Brazil, 2018), and researcher/assistant curator for Ready Made in Brasil(Centro Cultural Fiesp, São Paulo, Brazil, 2017); Rever_Augusto de Campos (SESC Pompeia, São Paulo, Brazil, 2016); and Lina Grafica (SESC Pompeia, São Paulo , Brazil, 2014), among others. She was the head curator for Whereabouts (Zipper Gallery, 2018) with works by David Almeida; Mirages (Baro Gallery, 2018) with works by Amanda Mei; and Small Formats (Baro Gallery, 2018) with works by Alexandre Wagner, to name a few. She also writes critical texts for different media outlets. Since 2014, she has been a participant in Sem Titulo, s.d., a production and research collective focused on contemporary art with whom she organized the exhibitions What is not performance? (Centro Universitário Maria Antonia, São Paulo, Brazil, 2015) and Tuiuiu, with works by Alice Shintani (ABER, São Paulo, Brazil, 2017). Bermet Borubaeva is a curator, researcher, and artist. She was born in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, and gained her Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, and Master’s of Arts focusing on “Political analysis and public policy,” from the High School of Economics in Moscow. She graduated from the Bishkek “Art East” School of Contemporary Art in 2009 and studied at First Moscow Curatorial Summer School for their program “Doing Exhibitions Politically,” initiated by Victor Miziano and V-A-C Foundation. Borubaeva also participated in the curatorial research residency “ReDirecting East” at the Centre for Contemporary Art Ujazdowski Castle, Warsaw. Borubaeva has also taken part in different exhibitions and projects, such as the First Youth Central Asian exhibition of Contemporary Art, ON/OFF; the eco-festival, Trash; and an exchange project in collaboration with Focus-Art Association, titled TET A TET #2 (Vevey, Switzerland). Recent projects include the Education Program for Lingua Franca/франк тили’, the re-exhibition project for the Central Asia Pavilion at the 54th Venice Biennale, done in collaboration with Oxana Kapishnikova and Ukhina Diana (2012); the exhibitions Artists-in-Residence at CCI Fabrika (2014–2016 Moscow); the exhibition PAS DE DEUX—KG. CH. at the Center of Contemporary Art Yverdon-Les-Bains, Switzerland; and the performance Café “Non-seller,” addressing the problem of food waste in conjunction with the documentary film “Eco Cup” (Moscow), as part of the Curatorial Research Program, CPR-2017: Mexico. She has also contributed to several publications in the fields of art, political science, and urban environment. Ewa Borysiewicz studied art history at the University of Warsaw and Freie Universität Berlin. She was a member of the curatorial team for Side by Side: Poland—Germany. A 1000 Years of Art and History (Martin-Gropius-Bau, Berlin), led by Anda Rottenberg. She is the author of Rausz kinetyczny (2013), a book exploring the political and emancipatory aspects of non-camera animation. From 2012–2019, she worked at the Adam Mickiewicz Institute in Warsaw as the curator for visual arts. Her duties included establishing international partnerships, programming the international visitors’ program, facilitating artistic residencies, and enabling presentations of Polish art worldwide. She is presently co-organizing (with galleries Stereo and Wschód) the exhibition Friend of a Friend, a gallery-share initiative in Warsaw that has been taking place since 2018. Borysiewicz has also curated and co-curated exhibitions at the Zachęta National Gallery of Art in Warsaw, the Polish Institute in Düsseldorf, and the Museum Jerke in Recklinghausen. She is the author of many texts and catalogue entries. Mateja Smic is a Dublin-based artist working with coffee, gelatin and other, often non-traditional materials, chosen by principles of association within her subject matter. Her recent subjects range from geopolitics to national identity. Through printmaking, digital collage, video and animation, Smic’s installations combine philosophical and psychological questions around experience, the phenomenon of Othering, and tensions between the real subject and its mediated representations. Consisting of intensive cycles and processes of intuitive and experimental engagement with her materials, which become a metaphor for an intangible subject, Smic’s reflexive and multi-layered art practice parallels with her contextual research and writing. Having graduated from the National College of Art and Design in Fine Print and Critical Cultures, her thesis and professional practice project focused on the creation of the image of the Balkans in the West and the portrayal of the region through various art forms and curatorial activities. Tomek Pawlowski is a curator, and events and meeting producer. In 2018 he participated in the curatorial program at Swimming Pool, Sofia. He is the curator of numerous exhibitions, performances, and projects in collaboration with artists from younger generations, groups, independent galleries, and institutions in Poland. He uses collective practices, critical entertainment, and politics of friendship as his main guiding framework. From 2016–2018 he ran Cycle, a program of micro-residencies and events in the apartments where he lived. In 2017 co-curated (along with Romuald Demidenko and Aurelia Nowak) The Open Triennial: the 8th Young Triennial at the Center for Polish Sculpture in Orońsko. He is also the co-curator (with Magdalena Adameczek and Ola Polerowicz) of Sandra Art Gallery, the nomadic agency associating with and supporting emerging female artists from Poznań. He currently resides between Białystok and Poznań. Shasta Stevic is an artist and curator from Melbourne, Australia. She is the co-founder, co-curator, and creative director of IntraLiminal—an ongoing project that showcases the work of talented young artists from regional Australia. She is passionate about providing opportunities for young artists to share their work publicly and supporting the development of ongoing creative practices in younger generations. Having completed degrees in science and law, she sees art as an important vehicle for the exploration of social issues including the environment and sustainability, civilization and progress, so-called technological and scientific advancement, and the worrying divide between humans and nature. She is particularly interested in using unconventional methods of storytelling and installation to bring about social change. Stevic has studied at the LungA School, an experimental art school in Seydisfjordur, Iceland, and has curated exhibitions for a mid-winter festival in Northern Iceland. Sasha Puchkova is an artist and curator based in Moscow. As an artist, Puchkova works with different media: sound, video, objects, performative communication and experiments. She explores phenomena related to different points of connection and the linking of digital and offline processes, as well as the space between these realms, and the interdependent influence of cyberspace on social norms. Key topics are particular interest to her are the plasticity of the laws of the digital system; the body in online space; new materialism; artificial synesthesia; decolonial pathways; post-cyberfeminist practices; and post-anthropocene practices. The pivot of her curatorial practice revolves around an experimental, expositional approach, which has been realized in such projects as a series of performative actions, ideas around the “exhibition as living space,” long-term laboratories, and the development of theatrical exhibitions-in-real-time, among other things. Her curated projects include Syntax (a series of performances and laboratory); (Im)-possible object (research and exhibition projects); and Capture Map (performative project and communication platform). Puchkova is also a member of the research group “Speculative Practices of Corporal Mutations” (with Katya Pislari and Daria Yuriychuk). Victoria Vargas Downing is a Chilean art historian, heritage researcher and independent curator based Leeds in the UK. She holds a BA in Fine Theory and History of Art at the University of Chile, a Curating Diploma and MA in Arts Management and Heritages studies at Leeds University. Has participated in art projects in Chile, Sao Paulo, Los Angeles CA, Vienna and The UK where she co-curated Imtiaz Dharker Exhibition and participated in the process and management of Chilean Mural restoration at the Leeds Students Union. She has worked as teacher and research assistant in different projects and art organisations in Chile (museums, galleries and non-profit organisations). She is PhD candidate at the School of Fine Art, History of Art and Cultural Studies at Leeds University. Her research verse on the relationship between contemporary art and heritage, particularly, in non-Western cultures. Seda Yıldız is a Hamburg-based artist-curator. Her multidisciplinary practice focuses on exploring the art of shaping (collective) memory, language, and the politics of the city. She is interested in the poetics of politics and frequently uses humor and abstraction as a tool in her artistic practice, working primarily with video, text, installation, and the form of the artist book. Her curatorial practice focuses on exploring the clash and intersection between the local and global, and aims to reach a heterogeneous audience while giving voice to the silenced. She is particularly is interested to take part in process-oriented, open and experimental projects that foster collaboration and exchange. Yıldız has exhibited her work and joined various editorial and curatorial projects internationally. In 2018, she was selected as an emerging curator by PARALLEL Photo Platform, co-funded by the Creative Europe Program of the European Union. Occasionally she writes about design, architecture, and urbanism, and contributed to Brownbook Magazine, MONU Magazine, Kajet Journal, and Freunde von Freunden. Yıldız holds an MA in Contemporary Artistic Practices from Haute école d’art et de design Geneva (2014) and a BA in Communication and Design from Bilkent University (2011). http://yildizseda.com Zulfikar Filandra is a film and theatre-maker based in Sarajevo. Filandra was educated at Griffith College Dublin, the Academy of Performing Arts Sarajevo, and the Faculty of Electrical Engineering Sarajevo. As a collaborator and member of several local and several international art collectives, he has worked with all the relevant mainstream art and cultural institutions in Sarajevo and is also active in Sarajevo’s underground art scene. Aside from directing in film and theatre, and assistant directing, Filandra also works as a screenwriter, lecturer, producer, editor, musician, actor, promoter, event organizer, and photographer. As a member of the youngest generation of Bosnian directors his topics touch on the legacy of war in Bosnia, but through a more intimate view of living in contemporary times and the position of a small culture like Bosnia in a globalizing world. Currently, he is actively collaborating with the Experimental Film Society (based in Dublin, Ireland) and Outline (based in Amsterdam, Netherlands). Filandra completed two short films in 2018 and is currently working on two more short films, while also developing his first feature project, titled Shipbuilding. At the moment, Filandra is in the process of founding and starting the first full-time artist-in-residence program in Sarajevo. Martina Yordanova is a curator, writer, and researcher based in Sofia, Bulgaria. She graduated from the University of Vienna in Publicity and Communication Sciences in 2014. She went on to do her postgraduate studies in Cultural Management and Curatorial Practices at different European educational institutions, including the University of Arts Berlin, Goldsmiths University, Institute for Cultural Concepts Vienna, and The Cultural Academy in Salzburg. Currently, she works in Sofia where in 2016, together with architects Galya Krumova and exhibition designer Petya Krumova, she established a non-profit foundation for contemporary art and media. Since then, Yordanova has been initiating different art events and exhibitions with international and Bulgarian artists, mostly living abroad. She is also the founder and curator of “1m2 of Art”—a project based in Veliko Tarnovo wherein every month a different artist from the local art scene presents their work in a space no bigger than its name. < Participants Educational Program Programs >

Events Lecture Series Participant Activities Glossary l(a)unch: gender issues WCSCD started its transition through merging rural and urban with research on artistic practices in the region. The research was undertaken through educational program of WCSCD 2023/2024. We encountered the number of examples starting from early 70’s Oho Group, Family of Clear Streams, and some from recent past Gera Museum ( 2000’s). Our research was done though site visits and conversations. Places we visited Gera Museum, Family of Clear Streams were ruins or remains of what was originally there. What was originally there were communities or potentiality for creating one. Program participants developed glossary unpacking key words related to these practices in relation to art making, economy, politics, spirituality, and gender. During the research we spoke mostly with men hearing their stories and that fact left us troubled. What was the role of women in these communities? As a response to that WCSCD program participant, Laura Rositani developed keywords in relation to gender issues that lingered through field trips and conversations we had. Gender issues By Laura Rositani Our case studies revealed a recurring theme: the presence of gender issues. These issues encompass all aspects and concerns related to women's and men's lives - both in the social and art-making realms. In its original meaning, gender issues refers to the historic lack of inclusion and equality for women compared to men. It delves into the power dynamics between genders, their historical evolution, and how these dynamics play out across political, legal, economic, and cultural landscapes. Essentially, gender functions as a powerful social structure, shaping relationships between individuals and institutions in profound and lasting ways. Examining these issues through a gender lens exposes a web of interconnected inequalities. The experiences of men and women diverge dramatically due to unequal access to resources, participation opportunities, and agency. For example, the interviews with the men involved in our archive research served as a stark reminder of this disparity. Instances of sexual discrimination, gender stereotyping, and inappropriate language and conduct emerged during these conversations. It was incredibly difficult to find even a mention of women in these stories, despite the fact that their unseen presence was clearly the foundation upon which most of these projects, at least initially, achieved some measure of success. Women were the ones pulling the strings and holding everything together.[1] However, this crucial role was overshadowed by the overwhelming presence of male figures, whose dominance permeated every corner of the archival material. My observations of the case studies and the overall situation reveal a continuous pattern of women's contributions being either ignored or downplayed. This can be seen as a subtle but persistent form of violence that has relegated and continues to relegate women to the margins of history, artistic practice, and even their own lives as mothers, wives, and simply women. While the case studies don't offer definitive answers about how things could have been different, One can imagine that if these women had been afforded greater gender equality within their families and communities, the outcomes might have been more positive. I'm not suggesting that the projects wouldn't have faced challenges, but perhaps they could have failed in a more constructive way, allowing for a chance to rebuild on a stronger foundation. What remains now are ashes: untold or distorted stories under the oppressive gaze of patriarchy. Interestingly, one aspect I observed that could potentially bridge the gender gap and offer a path to healing is the shared love for the earth. Nature could serve as a common ground, fostering respect and understanding between genders. The Glass Ceiling and Beyond: Unveiling Women's Contributions The glass ceiling metaphor aptly describes the invisible barriers that women often face.This glossary literally refers to a glass box, a cage that confines women's achievements and obscures their impact. In this case, it's not just the barriers that are transparent - the very presence and contributions of women are rendered invisible. This invisibility extends beyond the encompassing art practice, politics, to all aspects of life. Our archive research exemplifies this phenomenon. Women are relegated to the margins of the stories, their contributions as active participants left untold or rarely acknowledged. They are primarily mentioned as wives and collaborators, never as the driving forces behind their communities. This is akin to them being confined within a glass cage, their achievements obscured and their impact minimized. Gender Blindness and the Lingering Shadow of Patriarchy Almost every encounter we had while researching showed the lingering presence of a patriarchal legacy and a lack of gender equality. Gender blindness refers to the failure of recognizing the unequal structure of gender relations: while it might seem like a neutral approach, it actually maintains the status quo and doesn't address the existing power imbalance. Furthermore, the lingering influence of a system that privileges men, continues to shape how we view and discuss gender. This dominance extends to language itself, where the terms used to describe women can often be a subtle form of violence. The research highlighted the need to recognize the crucial roles women played, beyond wives or companions. Moreover, the research exposed a shocking blindness towards these deeply rooted behaviors, a complete failure to recognize their significance and consequences. Co-creation Our research identified several instances where men positioned women as assistants, diminishing their contributions to community building and artistic endeavors. The concept of co-creation extends beyond the artworks themselves. It encompasses the very foundation of life within these communities. However, our research revealed a persistent pattern: while both men and women were undoubtedly involved in the creative process, women were consistently relegated to a subordinate role. This becomes particularly evident in the way women were described. They were partially acknowledged as "makers," but their intellectual contributions are erased. The language used never elevates them to the level of thinkers or authors. The power of stones and plants related to women’s knowledge Across many cultures, women have been the custodians of a vast universe of knowledge and skills related to healing plants, herbs, spices, and the hidden powers of minerals. This knowledge, passed down through generations from woman to woman, reflects a deep eco-sensitivity and connection to the natural world. Plant’s knowledge and other aspects of medicine were often labeled as witchcraft by patriarchal and religious authorities. Women who possessed and used this knowledge were often accused of witchcraft and persecuted, undergoing torture, trials, and death sentences.The repression of this knowledge, aimed to limit women's autonomy, consolidated male power and controlled access to natural resources. Women knew the medicinal properties of every plant, every herb, every root, and they used them to heal themselves, their children, and their communities. The witch hunt was a war against women, against their knowledge and their autonomy. While sexual and domestic violence were undoubtedly prevalent during this era, a deeper examination reveals the underlying economic, social, and structural factors that transformed women into perceived threats, requiring their elimination or confinement to subordinate roles.The witch hunt went beyond mere physical persecution; it aimed to dismantle an entire universe of knowledge and relationships that underpinned women's social power. In many pre-capitalist societies, women held significant economic and social roles, often serving as healers, herbalists, and caregivers. Their knowledge of natural remedies and practices posed a challenge to the emerging patriarchal and capitalist structures. Hence, the witch hunt served as a tool to subdue women's autonomy, suppress their knowledge, and confine them to predefined gender roles.[2] Our case studies reveal that some women possess a rich understanding of traditional knowledge systems related to plants and minerals. This knowledge, often passed down through generations, might involve interpreting subtle signs in the environment or using specific rituals to connect with nature. This process of women seemingly communicating with nature underscores the immense value of their relationship with the land. This deep understanding could be the very foundation for the art-agriculture projects they were developing.[3] [4] It's also clear that this knowledge wasn't previously considered in sufficient depth. Indeed, my (our) observations align with what happened in the past with the “witchcraft”: since women’s roles were not acknowledged, these stories have essentially erased them from the narrative, leading to their marginalization. Ruins as human and non-human resources: The places visited in relation to the practices being researched were all ruins. In some cases they were ruins in literal sense, where space was overtaken by nature and decay and in other sense (metaphorical) ruins of the idea or utopia of community. The intersection of ruins and feminism offers a rich and complex area of study. It provides a way to challenge traditional narratives, reclaim lost histories, and imagine more inclusive futures where women's contributions are recognized and valued. Through the feminist lens, the concept of ruins isn’t solely male-centric representations of fallen empires.Ruins could be re-examined to understand spaces traditionally associated with women's work, domestic life, and cultural practices. By studying the ruins from this perspective, we can attempt to reclaim the lost stories of women who contributed to these societies. Furthermore, according to Posthumanism (ist) theories, ruins become potent symbols of human impermanence and the possibility of coexistence with other forms of life beyond the human, criticizing human exceptionalism. According to this way of seeing things, ruins signifies not the end, but a blossoming of potential. As we delve into the depths of our archival research, we encounter the haunting presence of ruins - remnants of a once-thriving endeavor. Yet, these vestiges seem to whisper tales of unfulfilled potential, a story of progress stunted by a profound sense of detachment. The community, it appears, failed to forge a sense of belonging, fostering an atmosphere of alienation that ultimately led to the project's demise. To fully comprehend the project's decline, we must delve into the depths of the archives. Why did individuals feel disconnected? Was it a structural issue, a lack of shared purpose, or something else entirely? An answer could be the male-centric power structure potentially contributed to the project's downfall and it is recurrent in every archive story.[5] An extremely important open question is the following one: Were there any successful efforts to breathe new life into these relics of the past? This skewed perspective necessitates a rewriting of history, one that acknowledges the full spectrum of participation, encompassing both men and women and more than human world. To fully comprehend the project's trajectory, we must re-analyze into the archives, employing a gender-inclusive lens. Archeological evidence, oral histories, and art practices can all offer valuable insights. Family project: The case studies we have looked at started as a family project- families moving to rural with potential of turning into community. While this approach can offer a strong foundation, it also carries the potential for perpetuating gender inequality. Traditional gender roles often get transported from the family unit to the larger project, potentially limiting women's participation and decision-making. Furthermore, the traditional family often reinforces male dominance: men hold more power, while women are expected to manage domestic labor and childcare. The concept of family, particularly the traditional monogamous structure, is often intertwined with an outdated notion that has little to do with modern ideas of romantic love. This rigid model can become exclusionary, pushing those who don't conform to its narrow definition to the margins, even demonizing them. It reinforces a social construct that assigns a singular "ideal" identity to families, emphasizing exclusivity and a sense of ownership. This monogamous mindset aligns perfectly with the capitalist and patriarchal structures of modern society. It can contribute to a range of social ills, including violence, colonialism, and racism. Furthermore, the traditional gendered definition of family can cultivate possessiveness, exclusivity, and a focus on individualism, potentially hindering social cohesion. From a political perspective, Fascist and totalitarian regimes viewed the traditional peasant family as a model to be championed and controlled. This was due to the specific characteristics it embodied, seen as essential for maintaining social order and consolidating their power. The peasant family was typically defined by a strict patriarchal structure, with the father as the undisputed head and women and children subordinate to his authority. This mirrored the authoritarian hierarchy that these regimes sought to impose on society at large. Life for peasant families was arduous, demanding discipline and unwavering obedience. Regimes heavily emphasized values like hard work, sacrifice, and unquestioned respect for authority, as crucial for maintaining societal order. Additionally, peasant life was deeply connected to the land and rural values. Fascist and totalitarian regimes often romanticized the simplicity and purity of rural life, contrasting it with the perceived "corruption" of urban living. This served to further tighten their grip on society and suppress any ideas deemed subversive. Our case studies consistently reveal the same pattern: the narrative revolves around a family headed by the paterfamilias, with the wife having no say in the matter. This exclusivity and narcissistic approach has led not only to the inability to integrate their project into a community, but also to a failure to achieve independence. When discussing these families, we are not referring to the romantic ideal of shared love, but rather to a strict patriarchal structure that impacts the wives and, subsequently, the children. Kids are the first to break away from what their fathers have tried to build through imposition. Motherhood and invisible labor: Another important aspect related to the women of our case studies is motherhood. Mothers were the ones in charge of keeping the spaces clean, of cooking, of taking care of children and assisting their husbands in every tasks- even if their efforts and irreplaceable help were completely invisible in the narration. It is important to mention, how this invisibility is strictly linked to a gender based idea of motherhood. Ecofeminist theories argue that the patriarchal and capitalist system exploits the female body through forced reproduction. Women are seen as mothers and caregivers, relegated to the private sphere and deprived of their autonomy. Motherhood becomes unpaid labor that perpetuates female subordination.In the main essay on ecofeminism, Françoise D'Eaubonne advocates a "Womb strike" (1974) as a radical solution to curb patriarchal power. This is an act of radical rebellion, in which women reclaim control over their bodies and refuse to be considered as reproductive machines. The “womb strike" is not limited to the mere refusal to have children, but also implies a social and political transformation that challenges existing power structures. According to ecofeminist studies, the threats of overpopulation and resource depletion can be traced back to the power that men have acquired in cultivating the land and their participation in the reproductive act. The relationship between the domination of nature and female subordination gains relevance, in relation to the nature-body connection, where there is an overlap between the exploitation of nature's resources and sexual-procreative potential. A focal point of feminist theories is the critique of the patriarchal model that has relegated motherhood to a subordinate and subservient role to women. Motherhood thus becomes a forced sacrifice, an obligation that limits the woman's personal and professional fulfillment. The mothers in our case studies prioritized their wish to be loved and cared over any professional recognitions, but they were undervalued and ignored.[6] Cooking, cleaning, laundry, childcare, etc. were invisible labor, unpaid and unrecognized work that is often essential for the smooth running of a household or community. [1] While a wider view on case studies is certainly important, Dragana Kojičić's project in Mošorin stands out as a precious exception. It's important to note that her project is contemporary, and thus the social-political context is distinct from the others, even though they share the same national origin. [2] Silvia Federici, “Caccia alle streghe, guerra alle donne”, NERO edition, Rome, 2022 [3] Marko Pogačnik mentioned Kathi Lightstone, Milenko Matanovic’s wife, who, after an experience hitchhiking in Scotland, she got in touch with Findhorn foundation. This community thrived with incredible vegetables, thanks to the women's remarkable ability to connect with the plants. Her knowledge, brought to Šempas, perfectly laid the foundation for a unique idea: agriculture intertwined with art. [4] Marko Pogačnik referred also to Gimbutas's work on millennia of peaceful societies became a revelation, upending his worldview. Inspired by this, he and his daughter, Ajra, developed a method to perceive and understand landscapes as "landscape temples" structured according to the Triple Goddess principle ( they wrote The Daughter of Gaia: Rebirth of the Divine Feminine, Findhorn Press, 2001) Among her most important accomplishments, Gimbutas developed a fundamental glossary of the figurative motifs that serve as an interpretative key to the mythology of an otherwise undocumented era (Neolithic), but also she established, on the basis of the interpreted signs, the characterizing lines and the main themes of a religion that venerated both the universe as the living body of the Mother Goddess Creator and all living things within it as partakers of her divinity. Gimbutas also coined the term “Gilania” ( from the Greek terms gynè, "woman" and anèr, "man”) to describe a society existed in 8.000-2500 a.c in the Ancient Europe based on the equality of rights between men and women and the lack of hierarchy and authority within the community. [5] Gera Museum is an example of ruins in a literary way and it shows how things could be potentially different if the power was not centered on one person but shared with the collective. When things felt apart, nobody took care of what Gera built and nobody felt like belonging to what he created. For Family of Clear stream the story is not that different at all, especially the ending. If at the beginning the idea was to create a collective project, through the time Bozidar ends up alone probably because he didn’t manage to have an horizontal approach to the community but he always put himself and his ideas first. The Sempas didn’t work either in this sense: they weren’t able to build a relationship with villagers but at the same time couldn’t be independent. [6] According to Braila’s experience, the first wife of Bozidar, it is clear how her presence was at the same time fundamental and not recognized: she was the one who took care of three kids, woke up at 5 to cook for the 20 people part of Family of Clear stream, she was also involved, against her wish, to perform and be part of her husband’s art processes. < Mentors Educational Program How to Apply >

< Back Behind Ethiopia’s Civil War: From Guerrilla to Secessionist 25 Dec 2020 Berhanu The state formation through the alliance of ethnicity-based parties since 1991 is fragile. The simmering ethno-nationalism within Ethiopia has become clear and leads to the faltering of Ethiopian politics this year. Tigray region of Ethiopia. source: made from google map. On November 4, which coincided with the polling day of the US general election, the 2019 Nobel Peace Prize winner and Ethiopian Prime Minister, Abiy Ahmed, announced on Facebook that the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (TPLF) attacked the Northern Command of Ethiopian Defense Force stationed in Mekele, the capital city of Tigray kilil (region). Merkley airport was immediately bombed by the Ethiopian federal army as punishment. Within a few days, the confrontation between the federal government and TPLF escalated rapidly. On November 7, U.N. Secretary-General Gutierrez spoke with Abiy and asked the Sudanese Prime Minister, who holds the rotating presidency of the International Development Organization (IGAD), and the African Union to intervene in negotiations between the warring parties. However, Abiy tweeted on the 9th saying: “Concerns that Ethiopia will descend into chaos are unfounded and a result of not understanding our context deeply. Our rule of law enforcement operation, as a sovereign state with the capacity to manage its own internal affairs, will wrap up soon by ending the prevailing impunity.” Getachew Reda, an adviser to the president of Tigray state and a key member of the DPA, took a back-and-forth, tweeting that Abiy was a poor soldier and had started the war first, and that Tigray was merely acting self-defensively. Subsequently, traffic in Tigray was cut off by the TPLF, outward communications were cut off by the federal Government, commercial banks were closed, and the Government of Ethiopia took control of all social media. From the outside, the two sides are almost fighting in a huge black box, with little contradictory news only managing to make it out. According to a report by Amnesty International on November 12, the Ethiopian National Defense Forces (NDF) and Amharic Special Forces attacked the People’s Front in Lugdi on the Sudan-Ethiop border on November 9. On the night of the 9th, hundreds of people were found dead with machete wounds near the Ethiopian Commercial Bank, close to the center of Mai-Kadra town and on the road leading to Himora on the northern border, most of whom were said to be Amharans who came here to work. The survivors identified the perpetrators as the police and the armed forces of Tigray State, but Debretsion Gebremichael, the acting governor and chairman of Tigray State, denounced these accusations. On November 10, Federal Government Spokesperson, Redwan Hussein, announced that the NDF had retaken Mekele’s Northern Command. On the 13th, Abiy changed his generals and the ministers of federal intelligence, security, and police, amongst other departments. Mulu Nega was appointed as the chief executive of the interim government of Tigray State. Tigray State thus entered a situation where two heads coexisted. At 10 o’clock in the evening on the 13th, the Amhara State in the southern part of Tigray State was attacked by an air raid. The local residents said that the gunfire lasted 15 minutes. The fighting has intensified, apparently beyond PM Abiy’s initial call of “an issue of law and order”, to the regional crisis in East Africa. At least 25,000 refugees have fled Tigray state and poured into neighbouring Sudan. The UNHCR has urged neighbouring countries to open their borders to facilitate people fleeing and has asked Ethiopian authorities to allow international aid agencies to enter the country to help an approximately 100,000 displaced people in Tigray state. On the 14th, the NDF claimed to have moved south of Tigray towards Mekele, taking control of several towns along the road, with the spokesman saying the rebellion would end quickly, and the head of the TPLF would be punished. However, on the same day, TPLF warned its northern neighbour Eritrea not to go to war and fired at least three rockets at the airport in Asmara, the Eritrean capital, hours later. It is just one year after PM Abiy Ahmed won the Nobel Prize for ending the two-decade confrontation between Ethiopia and Eritrea – so how did a war break out? Is this war, as Abiy claimed, a military operation to maintain the rule of law? Or was it the starting point of a melee in East Africa? Why did the TPLF, once the core of the Ethiopian ruling coalition ERPDF, recede to northern Ethiopia in only five years after Prime Minister Abiy took office? TPLF: From Hoxhaism Guerrilla to the ruling party Without reviewing the rise and fall of TPLF, one would not be able understand its historical memory and current position. Dr Aregawi Berhe, one of the founders and the early military commander of TPLF, has by far the most in-depth and critical accounts in this regard. In 1974, Major Mengistu Haile Mariam staged a coup in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, toppling Ethiopian Emperor Haile Selassie I and establishing a military junta, DERGUE, which then sided with the Soviet Union. But there were rebel groups in the north, one of which was TPLF. It was from the 1970s to 1991 that the TPLF was transformed from a national liberation organization in a remote area, into the heart of Ethiopia’s ruling party: the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF). From a military point of view, the rise of the TPLF was quite unexpected. In 1978, after DERGUE had cleared the eastern Somali rebellion, it sent troops northward and planned to quell two rebel groups: the TPLF in Tigray and the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF) in today’s Eritrea. In March 1988, with one of the largest military forces in Africa, the DERGUE was defeated in Eritrea’s Af-abet in just 48 hours by TPLF and EPLF. Next, the TPLF launched the Shire-Enda Selassie campaign in the mountains of the central state of Tigray. In April 1988, DERGUE regrouped its forces in Mekele. TPLF fought back in rapid movements, eliminating small groups of enemy forces and occupying commanding heights to cut off the enemy’s links with their base battalions, before then regrouping and annihilating the enemy. In early 1989, having had seen the dawn of victory, TPLF formed the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front in coalition with other national movements. In April 1990, negotiations coordinated by Italy broke down because Meles Zenawi, the leader of TPLF/EPRDF, felt that the opposition was on the verge of collapse. On 19 February 1991, Major Mengistu began his exile and the DERGUE faltered. In April, EPRDF entered Addis Ababa, the capital city, signaling the start of its three-decade rule of Ethiopia. What’s behind TPLF’s military achievement is its capacity to mobilize, which is inextricable to the Marxism-Leninism that emerged in Africa in the 1960s and 1970s. Ideologically, TPLF follows Hoxhaism, holding that both the Post-Stalin Soviet Union and Mao Zedong’s China were revisionist, and that only Enver Hoxha and the Albania he led were the true socialists. But such hair-splitting divergence could have [also] been the work of ethnic boundary making. The mode of mobilization, as Aregawi Berhe argues, was also highly dependent on Tigray nationalism, which ultimately sowed the seeds of separatism in the process of nation-building later on. As early as the 1970s, in the Haile Selassie I University (now Addis Ababa University) established by the last Emperor of Ethiopia for the cause of modernization, a group of students from the Tigray region in their early 20s formed the Tigray National Organization (TNO) – the predecessor of the TPLF. Back then, the Ethiopian monarchy was already in crisis. In the context of the African independence movement, Marxist-Leninist classics were widely circulated among young students. The Marxist revelation that the imperialist oppression was the reason behind the poverty and backwardness of third-world nations, as well as the victories of the socialist revolution and developments in socialist countries, attracted young students. Indeed, Tigray has suffered multiple hardships in modern history. This area is the origin of Ethiopian civilization. Historically, elevated plateaus with rivers cutting deep among them were geographically apt for rule by scattered feudal lords. In modern times, Tigray became war-trodden, not only because of the War of the Princes (1769-1885), but also because European colonists needed to enter Ethiopia from here. It was with Lord Kasa Mercha’s permission that the British Napier Expedition was able to pass Tigray and defeat Emperor Tewodros II. Kasa Mercha was later crowned as Yohannes IV. In 1889, he was seriously wounded in battle by Mahandist Sudanese, passing the throne to Menilik II, the powerful leader of Addis Ababa. This marked the shift of power of Abyssinia from the Tigrays to the Amharas. After WWII, Emperor Haile Selassie I strengthened centrality and appointed officials to replace the old nobles in the Tigray region. But heavy taxes imposed on local governments by these officials, coupled with corruption, provoked the revolution of Tigranian farmers. Many wars have caused the people’s livelihood in this area to decline. Bandits prevailed in Tigray. Those who went out for a living were often looked down upon by locals. In general, Tigray people had little liking towards the colonists and Ethiopian emperors. In the 1970s, students who fell under the influence of Marxism returned to their hometowns from Addis Ababa, setting out to transform the traditional rural society in Tigray while resisting DERGUE, whose rule was even worse than Emperor Selassie. Under the leadership of the legendary Gessesew Ayele (Sihul) – who had participated in the opposition to Emperor Haile Selassie in the 1940s and served in the DERGUE government – these students intended to follow China’s revolutionary path from their armed resistance in the countryside, before eventually engulfing the cities. It was with this intention that they went to Shire, Ayele’s hometown in the central mountainous area. The students’ organization, Tigray National Organization (TNO), was revamped as TPLF, claiming itself as the “Second Revolution” (Kalai Woyyane) to invoke the history of [the] “first revolution” of 1943, which pursued national self-determination from imperial oppression. In the beginning, farmers simply regarded these young men as educated yet unsophisticated radicals. However, TPLF went on to effectively reform the traditional Tigray society, and under the guidance of its ally, Eritrea People’s Liberation Front (EPLF, when Eritrea was still part of Ethiopia), consciously recruited farmers to participate in its armed struggle. These reforms include the following four aspects: the establishment of farmers’ associations and a people’s assembly to replace traditional rural governance land reform youth and women’s organizations and religion. First, the establishment of farmers’ associations and [the] People’s Assembly to replace traditional rural governance by the village elderly (shimagile). In the beginning, TPLF members went to churches, funerals, markets, and neighborhood meetings to explain the goals of the revolutionary movement, encouraging farmers to join the peasant associations and prepare for land reform. Nevertheless, the elderly approved of TPLF’s conduct and discipline, but cautioned their sons and daughters against its propaganda. In response, TPLF resorted to national sentiments, presenting itself as the “sons and daughters of Tigray” to legitimize their roots and exclude other competing fronts in Tigray. It also managed to achieve consensus among the people through the apparatus of cadres ( kifli hizbi ) and meetings ( gämgams ). In the propaganda meetings convened by the cadres, differing opinions were eliminated under group pressure, thereby strengthening their internal cohesion. Under collective pressure, many people who were sympathetic to the forces outside of TPLF were required to show loyalty through “self-criticism” or else silence themselves. Through this, the TPLF turned all farmers into members of [the] farmer’s association. Second, the implementation of land reform. Traditionally, the land was divided into risti land (inherited from the previous generation), the communal deisaa land (which was redistributed every seven years to immigrants and new couples), and the gulti land (allocated by emperors to officials, lords, and churches. This included himsho land (or “rim” land) owned by the parish, with 20% of its farm produce used in the services of parish priests and laymen). On the eve of the revolution, it was estimated that 25% of farmers had little to no land, 45% of farmers had less than 1 hectare, 23% owned between ½ – 1 hectare, and 21% owned 1 – 2 hectares (Tekeste Agazi 1983). The purpose of TPLF, then, was to crush the highly disproportionate land system. At the same time, the socialist DERGUE was also promoting land reform through abandoning guiti lands. However, it did not consider the working class, craftsmen, and small businessmen in the city. TPLF took the lead to divide land among these groups, consolidating its political base both in the city and the countryside. Third, youth and women’s organizations. In order to arm rural youth, TPLF raised the age of marriage to 26 for men and to 22 for women through the decision of baitos , the transformed people’s assembly. In traditional agricultural societies, only married couples could obtain land as their means of production. As a result of the postponement of marriage, young people were delayed access to land ownership but were freed from obligations to land and family. TPLF then organized the youth, who participated in logistics and other activities, becoming reserves of the armed struggle. Cadres trained the youth to shout, “I want to fight for Tigray!” “I’m going to join the TPLF army!” Young people who were reluctant to join the army were seen as “opportunists” and consequently marginalized. In the meantime, TPLF also trained radio station staff and barefoot doctors who had international aid and financial resources provided by the Tigrainian diaspora. It closed state schools in towns and cities and set up its own schools to mobilize more of the youth. In addition, TPLF male fighters were known for their monkish behavior to abstain from sex. TPLF criminalized sexual violence and even imposed the death penalty to discipline its army. This won the approval of local husbands and fathers, who were rest assured when their wives and daughters were encouraged by female TPLF fighters to join the army. As a result, approximately one third of the TPLF fighters were women. Fourth, the use of religion. Ethiopia traditionally has a strong religious atmosphere. The Tewahedo Orthodox Church, on the one hand had close ties with the community and the family, but on the other hand supported the imperial power. TPLF strategically supported DERGUE’s policy of confiscating gulti land, but it permitted the parish land system without damaging the church’s grassroots economic base. The TPLF also placed religious and social activities under the control of the People’s Assembly ( baitos ). They severed ties between the Tigranian Church and the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, and at the same time showed tolerance for Muslims as a minority group. Participants holding photos of the martyrs in the parade of TPLF 45-year anniversary, which dates back to 18 February 1975 when the armed struggle began in Tigray. Bottom right is the TPLF logo. It has a hammer, a torch, and the national symbol Axum obelisk encircled by the wheat ear of injera, the traditional crop of Ethiopia. Source: www.Tigrayonline.com To an extent, the TPLF borrowed from China [and] Vietnam’s revolutionary experience. They transformed traditional rural society and gained a high degree of control over Tigray through [their] movements. Administratively, the old governance in Tigray’s rural society, baitos , was transformed into the People’s Assembly under the leadership of TPLF. The People’s Revolutionary Assembly had armed forces at a national level, and the families of cadres and fighters were taken care by the village. The legal power was shared by the elderly ( shimagle ) and cadres – but the cadres, elevated as “torchbearers of the revolution”, often had the decision-making power. In this way, TPLF successfully mobilized the society of Tigray and became the sole spokesperson for the Tigray people. This is what Dr Aregawi Berhe calls the “mobilization hegemony” with a nationalist predilection. Separatism in the 1994 Ethiopian Constitution When overthrowing the once powerful Military Junta became imminent, the TPLF found itself standing at a historical crossroad for establishing a transitional government. In 1989, before entering Addis Ababa, the TPLF formed the ruling coalition EPRDF (Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front) and in 1991, the EPRDF began to draft the new constitution for the liberated Ethiopia. However, these two milestones bore the markings of separatism once they were laid out by TPLF and its allies. EPRDF is composed of four major national political groups: the TPLF, ADP (Amhara Democratic Party, formerly known as ANDM, Amhara National Democratic Movement), OPDO (Oromo People’s Democratic Organization), and SEPDM (Southern Ethiopian’s People’s Democratic Movements). Although the establishment of the EPRDF created an image of Ethiopian solidarity, for the TPLF, it was also the solution to two emerging challenges. Firstly, as a political group that only accounts for 6% of the population of Ethiopia, the Tigranians had to unite with other national forces. Secondly, they had to formally meet demands from the West to achieve democracy (at the time, the U.S. Assistant Secretary of State, Herman Cohen, warned that TPLF had “no democracy, no cooperation.”). The unification of the political forces in Ethiopia through the party apparatus seemed beneficial for the TPLF, who chose to collaborate with like-minded political organizations. The ANDM, an ally of the TPLF, was considered to merely be the “Amhara mouthpiece” of the EPRDF, while the OPDO, composed of political prisoners released by the EPRDF, was seen as its “Oromo mouthpiece”. Given the earlier fall of the communist junta, the United States was willing to accept an authoritative government. In July 1991, under the diplomatic coordination of the United States, TPLF/ EPRDF held the “Peace and Democracy Transitional Conference of Ethiopia” in Addis Ababa and invited representatives of 27 national movement organizations to participate (Aregawi 2008: 335). Of the 27 organizations, 19 were based on ethnic politics, 5 on national political organizations, and the remaining 3 were civic or professional groups. The draft of the constitution discussed in the transitional meeting was prepared by the TPLF and the Oromo Liberation Front (OLF), who also dominated the negotiating table alongside heavy involvement from the EPLF (according to OLF), who were preparing for the Eritrea transitional government. Being the product of ethnic oppression in the past, these three parties naturally took the option of secession into account. Notably, the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party (EPRP) and the All-Ethiopian Socialist Movement (MEISON) were not invited to this meeting. In the absence of these organizations, who would advocate for a pan-Ethiopia unity, the participants could easily reach an agreement for the Eritrean Transitional Government (led by the EPLF) to conduct a referendum for secession from Ethiopia in three years. Some participating organizations, such as the ENDO (Ethiopian National Democratic Organization), initiated discussions on the separation of ethnic groups and the separation of Eritrea, but the representatives of the EPRDF believed that these reservations would damage the foundation of the constitution. In the end, the provisional Ethiopian Constitution stipulates that the regional assembly shall be based on the nation and that “every Nation, Nationality and People in Ethiopia has an unconditional right to self-determination, including the right to secession.” (article 39.1). Moreover, the EPRDF only recognizes the individual ethnic identity of citizens, and not the dual or multiple ethnic identities that were a result of historical integration. This is the design of the national federalism currently implemented in Ethiopia. The Ethiopian Parliament which was consequently established composed of 27 ethnic organization representatives, who would form the Council of Representatives. It is a legislative body with a total of 87 seats: 32 of which belong to the EPRDF, with the remaining 55 seats belonging to 23 non-EPRDF organizations. As the highest administrative body, the Council of Ministers is headed by Meles Zenawi. As the president of the transitional government, he appointed 17 of the cabinet ministers, most of whom were held by candidates from the TPLF and the OLF. In just a few years, Meles Zenawi controlled the power of the state through the coalition of political parties. In the meantime, the ethnic and national political parties in Ethiopia rapidly increased. Today, of the 81 political parties registered in the Federation of Ethiopia, 73 are based on ethnicities. Since ethnic politics has been legitimized, some leaders of ethnic political groups often antagonize ethnical sentiments to strengthen their power, further worsening the state of Ethiopian politics. A war between secessionists and Ethiopianists? Ethiopia has long been a country with a low level of development. However, after Meles Zenawi came to power, especially since 2005, the average annual GDP growth of >10% attracted the world’s attention, while foreign direct investment (FDI) also increased significantly during this period. Economically, Meles Zenawi pursued an authoritarian mode in developing the country, prioritizing industrial and infrastructural investments, and establishing several industrial parks in different regions. Nonetheless, such modes of development are not without precedents. The successful trajectory of East Asian economies (such as China, Taiwan, South Korea, etc.) since the 1980s became a model to emulate for some African countries, especially when IMF’s structural adjustment failed in many African countries. Nevertheless, the Tigrainians, thanks to their ethnicity and connections with the ruling party, are widely believed to hold a monopoly on Ethiopia’s economic power and accumulative wealth. The growing civil discontent towards political and economic inequality, and democratization on an ethnic basis, has brought imminent risks both to state failure within Ethiopia and the decline of TPLF. The first serious indicator was as early as 1992 when OLF, the party who co-drafted the constitution with TPLF, withdrew from the Ethiopian government because it was marginalized by the ally of the EPRDF, the Oromo People’s Democratic Organization (OPDO). The Oromo people account for 40% of the Ethiopian population, and the split within Oromo is further complicated by its diaspora in the Gulf countries and the United States. After 2016, the problem of land acquisition in the Oromo region, especially in the development around Addis Ababa, triggered political protests against the EPRDF/TPLF, bringing the country into state of emergency on many occasions. Other emerging democratic voices were silenced by the ruling coalition, owing to its authoritarian nature. In the 2005 Ethiopian general election, the Coalition for Unity and Democracy (CUD) claimed to have won 49% of the votes, outnumbering the 34% held by the EPRDF. However, it was suppressed by EPRDF, and the leader of the CUD was placed under house arrest. CUD’s party guidelines have already pointed out that the primary task of contemporary Ethiopia’s development is to achieve national reconciliation. The sudden death of Meles Zenawi in 2012 left a power vacuum in Ethiopia, which is a common problem with all authoritarian governments. In 2018, the successive prime minister, Hailemariam Desalegn, believed to be a puppet of TPLF, resigned because the country once again fell into a state of emergency caused by intensified ethnic conflicts. According to election procedures, the four major parties will elect the chairman of EPRDF, who will also become the next prime minister. Lemma Megers, the chairman of OPDO at the time, was unable to serve as prime minister because he was not a member of the parliament, so an emergency meeting was held to elect the next candidate within the party, Abiy Ahmed, as chairman. This crucial step successfully catapulted Abiy to the supreme position he now holds in Ethiopia. Dr Abiy Ahamed was born in 1976. He joined the army led by TPLF where he learned Tigrinya as a teenager and served for many years in the army’s security intelligence department. In the 2010s, he was appointed as director of the Urban Development Planning Department of Oromia. Thanks to his peace-making talents, Abiy solved many land and religious disputes, and established a bridge of communication between the Oromo and Amhara peoples. The two ethnic groups alone account for 2/3 of the total population of Ethiopia. Therefore, in addition to his Oromo origin and recognition from the TPLF, Abiy became ideal for the unification of the major nations and parties. In the 2018 election, the Amhara leader withdrew at the last minute, paving way for Abiy to become chairman of the EDPRF and subsequently, Prime Minister of Ethiopia. After taking office, however, Abiy steered Ethiopia towards market liberalism – a stark contrast from the policies EDPRF had adopted. Previously, although the Ethiopian government attached great importance to the introduction of foreign capital, their domestic retail, logistics, and financial industries had not been opened to such. Meles Zenawi even rejected the IMF’s request to open up banking arrangements. In contrast, Abiy plans to privatize state-owned enterprises in the communication, sugar, energy, and aviation industries; and liquidate the party assets controlled by TPLF. In this process, the Metal Engineering Group (METEC), Ethiopia’s largest military industrial complex, collapsed. METEC was established in 2010 to undertake the construction of the Renaissance Dam and the sugar factory on the Blue Nile in Ethiopia, both of which are national megaprojects. In June 2018, the parliamentary committee found that the company’s US$330 million machinery and equipment had no marketvalue, and the US$3 billion sugar plant project failed to reach completion (Ethiopia’s GDP in 2018 was about 84.4 billion USD). Abiy’s administration soon terminated METEC’s contract for the Renaissance Dam and Sugar Factory, and had their CEO, Kinfe Dagnew, who was about to flee Sudan, escorted back to Ethiopia for trial. In 2018, Abiy dissolved EDPRF and established the new Prosperity Party, underscoring a new narrative of harmony and Ethiopian unity. TPLF was among the dissidents against the Prosperity party, but its efforts to bring Ethiopia to a “federal coalition” failed in 2020. [1] Having declined in power and without a strongman like Meles Zenawi, the TPLF is said to have split from within, wavering between the option to either to remain in Addis or withdraw to Tigray. In fact, although the TPLF was the initiator of ethnic politics in Ethiopia, as a minority group the Tigray people remain susceptible to antipathy from the Amharic and Oromo people. Nevertheless, the antagonism towards the TPLF and Tigray people is to some extent unjustifiable, a Tigrainian friend told me, because they sacrificed enormously fighting against DERGUE for the sake of a new Ethiopia. When asked about corruption, another Tigrainian businessman said, “as long as you put the corrupted officials in jail, you can move forward for development!” Their adamant positions reveal how history and ideology have shaped the mentality of a proud nation. In recent years, Tigray has become further isolated geopolitically. Tigray is sandwiched between Sudan to its west and Eritrea to its northeast. In 2019, Prime Minister Abiy and Prime Minister Isaias Afevolki of Eritrea reached a settlement on the 20-year border standoff, which provoked discontent between the TPLF and Abiy. At its inception, TPLF had received military assistance from EPLF. The latter even sent a fighter, Mussa, to the TPLF in the early days, who served as the TPLF’s military commander. However, during the joint resistance against the military government, EPLF oscillated between the Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Party (EPRP), another political organization in Tigray, and TPLF. From the EPLF’s viewpoint, if it were to support a separatist movement, it would only give Ethiopia an excuse to expand its arms, thereby posing a threat to itself. Only when the DERGUE threatened its own survival would the EPLF tolerate ideological and strategic differences to fight alongside the TPLF (EPLF advocates the socialism of Soviet Union and positional warfare). The Ethiopia-Eritrea war from 1998 to 2000 pushed the two into a heightened confrontation. Eritrea was in a state of emergency for a long time after the war, and semi-openly supported the armed activities of the anti-government OLF in Ethiopia. The reconciliation between Abiy and Eritrea in 2019 included a plan to transfer the disputed Badme region to Eritrea. This olive branch gesture was applauded by the international community and Abiy won the Nobel Peace Prize that year. However, as far as the TPLF is concerned, Abiy’s move was really a deal at the cost of Tigray’s interests. The global pandemic has exacerbated the rival between the federal government and Tigray. Ethiopia was one of the first countries in Africa to take active action against the virus, thanks to its favorable relationship with China and the Secretary-General of the World Health Organization (WHO), Tedros Adhanom, who served in Tigray State and the Ethiopian government. In March 2020, while experts from around the world were still debating the effectiveness of a lockdown, Tigray declared a state emergency, banning travel within the state for 14 days and canceling all social activities. The move was two weeks in advance of the federal declaration of a state of emergency on April 8. It caused debates among constitutionalists, and the move was criticized as illegal by the Prosperity Party. On April 2, Tigray State claimed to have virus detection capabilities, almost at the same time as the Ethiopian Ministry of Health, seemingly aiming for political legitimacy by way of epidemic prevention and control. In September, Tigray State held elections, despite Abiy Ahmed’s announcement that the national election would be postponed due to the pandemic. This open defiance sparked the war between the secessionist TPLF and the federal government. Abiy called the election in Tigray a “shanty election”, for it is illegal to build a house on an illegal foundation, no matter how high it is. Since claiming a domestic and international reputation of maintaining national harmony, and with the support of Eritrea, Prime Minister Abiy now seems to have the upper hand. Framing the war as an internal affair of “law and order” and the military action as “punishment of the criminals” thus serves to diminish the constitutional crisis. A massive campaign harvest to protect possible locust attack in Tigray region in October, just before the war broke out. Source: https://twitter.com/ProfKindeya/status/1318510358915665922 Whether it is an issue of “law and order” as declared by the federal government, or the “civil war” as recognized by the outside world, this conflict has been ongoing for several weeks; meanwhile Ethiopian social media prohibits discussing political and war-related information. From a military standpoint, it is hard to rule out the possibility of prolonged warfare – the length of which would depend on the mobilization capability of TPLF and the position of Tigranian people towards the war. The war seems to have subsided in scale recently, but the antagonizing ethnic groups in Tigray and Ethiopia; and critically, the tens of thousands of displaced men, women, and children to Sudan, are the biggest victims. Part of the points of view in this article are from the doctoral thesis of Aregawi Berhe (2008), “A Political History of the Tigray People’s Liberation Front (1975-1991): Revolt, Ideology and Mobilisation in Ethiopia” and Zhou Jin Yan (2019), “The Experience from Ethiopia – a Democratic Development State as an African Approach”. Culture Review, No. 3. Dr Aregawi Berhe had served as the early military commander of TPLF but was expelled by TPLF in 1986. After over three decades of exile in Europe, he returned to Ethiopia at Abiy’s invitation for the sake of the political reconciliation between parties. Chinese version of this text has been published by Initium Media, Hong Kong in November 2020https:// theinitium.com/ Berhanu is an anthropologist in African Studies. [1] https://borkena.com/2019/08/26/tigray-organized-a-conference-to-save-constitution-and-the-federal-system/ Previous Next

< Back Non-Alignment Summit Anniversary a difficulty to re-member 10 Nov 2021 Dunja Karanović & Jovan Mladenović About a month and a half has passed since Serbia hosted the 60th anniversary celebration of the 1st Summit of the Non-Aligned Movement. Over a hundred member and observer state delegations gathered for a two-day conference in Belgrade, the same city where the 1st Summit was held in the Fall of 1961. 1st Summit of the Non-Aligned Movement in Belgrade 1961. Source: Wikipedia I say about a month and a half has passed, because the events that unfolded in the short time span since the anniversary are somehow difficult to align . The two decades preceding the emergence of this text were all about erasing the 31 years this particular locus was part of the Non-Aligned Movement. I say locus because for someone who was born around the time one country disappeared and six new ones were created, it’s also difficult to pinpoint which entity took part in what. [1 ] In 1961, when our capital hosted the Summit, it was the capital of a different country. It was also the capital of a member country, which is no longer the case. [2] The difficulty to discern the when and where is one that our current regime took advantage of during the national broadcasting of the 2021 event. Over the course of two days, two decades of erasure were spun off through a clever campaign of government myth-weaving. Pro-regime media outlets were swarming with yugonostalgia and titoist trivia as the streets of Belgrade turned into a scenography of brightly colored flags and banners representing the 105 countries participating in the event. Remembrance and erasure were intertwined in an attempt to blur out the fact that Serbia’s current political system is in no way in line with the values behind non-alignment. Even more so, an attempt to pass over the fact that the system is a direct successor of the regime that got us kicked out of the Movement in the first place. [3] The Non-Aligned Movement was created in opposition to the hegemonic trajectories of the post-WWII world. An alternative built around the values of emancipation, anticolonialism, equity, peace, solidarity, and cooperation. Twenty-five countries came together in that first summit to stand against the inevitability of the Cold War. One of their main agreements was that disarmament was crucial for maintaining international stability and social justice. To illustrate just one in a multitude of paradoxes employed in the theatrical 60th anniversary celebration, the last day was rounded off with the opening of the 10th International Arms and Military Equipment Fair [4] . Looking at some of the events of the past month and a half, it becomes clear just how much this political charade was used to conceal the actual pan-alignment of our current locus. Two human rights activists were taken into police custody for throwing eggs on a mural depicting a nineties war criminal in Belgrade. [5] Five hundred Vietnamese workers are being held hostage in inhumane conditions on a construction site in Zrenjanin [6] . Ten children ended up in the infirmary after running a school race in Lazarevac on a day when it measured the highest air pollution rate in Europe. [7] A bank was sued for refusing to open accounts to Iranian refugees and asylum seekers in Serbia. [8] The list goes on. I write this in an effort to decode some of the messages that were sent during the two days Serbia was celebrating . Yes, the first summit was organized in Belgrade in 1961. Yes, it is important to remember the values that guided the following three decades. But whether or not this is the same Belgrade that upheld those values then is up for the reader to decide. Personally, it feels a lot like the scenario from Spielberg’s 2004 film Terminal – we are still there, but there is no longer the same there to go back to. Photo: Branimir Karanovic Considering how Tito had to make most of his diplomatic journeys by boat (the famous “Seagull”), it is curious how the twenty-first century has rendered us closer geographically yet further apart ideologically. The 1st summit, initiated by Nehru, Nasser, and Tito, was about creating ties of friendship and cooperation between distant cultures, and taking a pacifist stance against the global power structures. Sixty years later, distance has become the keyword as the world is faced with a global pandemic and the climate crisis, deepening the gap between what we still call the developing (distant) and the developed (power structures). Remembering how the Belgrade Summit of 1961 happened only two weeks after the Berlin wall started literally dividing East and West, it seems almost counterintuitive to say we could be more in need of interdependence and solidarity today than we ever were. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, the question of whether there is still a need for a Non-Aligned Movement has been raised. The Movement now consists of 120 members and 17 observer countries, including Russia which has joined this year. The sixtieth anniversary of the Belgrade Summit was marked by world leaders simultaneously calling for international solidarity and multilateralism, and asking for support for their current foreign politics [9] . Underlining the pan-alignment approach of Serbia, the event included a strong presence of both China and Russia, which were historically on the opposing side of the principles proposed by Tito, Nasser, and Nehru. In addressing these issues and the importance of revitalizing some of the connections made during the 1961 summit, Serbian officials spoke about how proud they are as a government to be continuing Tito’s diplomatic legacy and Yugoslavian values. The same officials who spend most of their working days in the National Assembly, in between what used to be the Marx and Engels Square, and what used to be the Boulevard of Revolution. The last Non-Alignment Movement summit organized in Belgrade took place in 1989, in a post-Tito, post-Berlin Wall, and pre-nineties setting. Since then, over 200 Belgrade street names have been changed from those commemorating Yugoslavian history to those beating around it. The former Federal Executive Council of Yugoslavia (built in 1961!) is now the Palace “Serbia”, the Central Committee building is now overshadowed by a shopping mall, and the former Trade Union Hall is named after a bank. Most recently, the city’s deputy mayor suggested we should rename those streets which still bear the names of ex-Yugoslav capitals and cities – a final deletion of Tito’s brotherhood and unity. For those of us living in New Belgrade, Nehru, Gandhi, and Agostinho Neto are still household names. However, walking the streets of Belgrade you have a better chance of noticing street signs in Russian, English, and Mandarin, than any sign of our pride in Yugoslavian values. Alignment with each and every capitalist power structure is now embedded in our public spaces. In an attempt to rediscover and commemorate the remnants of non-alignment in public space, the Museum of African Art created an interactive online heritage map , marking various monuments related to the NAM in the streets of Belgrade and the rest of the world. The heritological map is still growing, but already features many street names, monuments, murals, and buildings that were created either for or during the two summits that happened in Belgrade in Yugoslav time. The project is a part of their larger exhibition “Non-Aligned World”, curated by Emilia Epštajn, Ana Knežević, Milica Naumov and dr Nemanja Radonjić, to mark the anniversary of the 1961 NAM summit. More than half a century after the event, they invite us to locate the “Non-Aligned World” in our present day, what the movement used to be and mean, what of it still exists today? Peace, equality, solidarity, cooperation, emancipation, and anti-colonialism are the central themes of the exhibit, as the key elements of defining personal as well as group identities – the hope for building a new world. The exhibition tends to focus on the weight, importance, and tenderness that these terms bear today. Regardless of whether they are used as mottos for social justice movements, or they are drawn as cultural or social classifications, these ideas are very much alive and needed in present times. Accordingly, the curatorial concept focuses on the meaning of the words and ideas, how they were proliferated at that point, and how they motivated people to act by better understanding their role on a global scale, despite being conveyed through state media outlets. The exhibition is structured in a way that gives us a glimpse of the past that is less known, tells a story about the common people, and emphasizes the atmosphere that was created around the possibility of creating a new (Non-Aligned) world. Non-Aligned World Exhibition – Museum of African Art in Belgrade. Photo: Jelena Jankovic The Museum of African Art symbolically and literally preserves the legacy of the Non-Aligned Movement, outlining the importance of cultural diplomacy in times of crises. The Museum of African Art is the first and only museum in the region entirely dedicated to the cultures and arts of the African continent. Their permanent display is based on examples of (primarily) West African art and includes objects from the collection formed by the founders of the Museum – Veda Zagorac and dr Zdravko Pečar. Over the course of twenty years spent in West Africa, as a journalist, diplomat and Yugoslav ambassador in seven African countries, Dr. Zdravko Pečar together with his wife Veda Zagorac was developing friendship-based contacts with both African statesmen/diplomats, as well as common people. For forty years this institution has made a significant contribution to promoting and fostering cultural relations and encouraging the principles of multilateralism and cultural diversity. Endorsing the importance of African and non-European culture is the foundation upon which the overall work of this museum is based. While the permanent display has remained unchanged since the opening of the museum (encapsulating in a sense the cultural, diplomatic, and curatorial practices of the time), their program incorporates more contemporary arts production from Africa. [10] Another critical approach to the issue of remembrance and commemoration in relation to 1961 values was also assumed by Ana Panić and Jovana Nedeljković, the curatorial team behind the exhibition “Prometheans of the New Century” in the Museum of Yugoslavia [11] . The exhibition title comes from a painting of the same name by the Yugoslav artist Petar Lubarda, which took the central place of the decor of the 1st Summit of the Non-Aligned in 1961. The central theme of the exhibition is the relationship between Yugoslavia and India presented through art and the exchange of cultural ideas between the two countries. Josip Broz Tito visited India for the first time in 1955, which is considered by many to be the spark that started the whole idea for creating the movement. This relationship is portrayed by the gifts Tito received from Indian officials and artists during his diplomatic meetings. The exhibition also features the works of Indian artists who were given scholarships from the Yugoslav government to study alongside prominent Yugoslavian artists. The political ties between the two non-aligned countries were strengthened through diplomatic and cultural exchange, including contemporary art practices. In terms of bilateral cultural exchanges, the openness of cultural institutions in Serbia to contemporary artistic and curatorial practices from what is nowadays called the Third world has not moved much since the sixties and seventies. The second part of the exhibition continues to communicate with India, this time through the work of the painter Petar Lubarda. Lubarda spent several months in India in 1963, at the invitation of the Yugoslav Commission for Cultural Relations with Foreign Countries. This experience left a deep mark on him, which influenced his art to explore the themes of the universal battle of good and evil, primordial impulse in humans, and their connection with matter and elements. All of these embodied in paintings such as “Awakening of Africa” (1956-1959), “Prometheus” (1967), “Man and Beasts” (1964), and “Bull and Cloud” (1963). But what happened to “Prometheans of the New Century”? As the legend goes, Prometheus was punished for bringing humans fire by being bound to a rock, and an eagle was sent to eat his liver which would then grow back overnight, only to be eaten again the next day in an ongoing cycle. Having taken center stage in the 1961 summit, the original painting was in recent years hung inthe cinema of Kombank Hall [12] , formerly known (ironically) as Trade Union Hall. Vladimir Nikolic – “The Communist Painting in The Age of Digital Reproduction” (2017) Source: www.vladimir-nikolic.com This is all emphasized in a video work entitled “Communist Painting in the Age of its Digital Reproduction” by Vladimir Nikolić – the final element and conclusion to the exhibition. The work was commissioned in 2017 for the exhibition When the Other meets the Other curated by Biljana Ćirić. Once a symbol of freedom from external control and economic exploitation, it seems that our Prometheus of the New Century has been bound to a wall above the ticket stand, sentenced to an ongoing cycle of endless consumerism. In the new setting, it closes the exhibition on a symbolic level, but at the same time opens the question of what happened to the ideas of modernism, which we were once so proud of. What happened to the values and ideas of non-alignment, solidarity, anti-colonialism, and revolutionism? Dunja Karanović (Belgrade, 1996) is a visual artist and freelance journalist. Jovan Mladenović (Kraljevo, 1995) is an art historian and an MA student at the Belgrade University of Arts -UNESCO Chair in Cultural Policy and Management. [1] Yugoslavia stopped being a member of the NAM in 1992; from 1991 until the early 2000s the country was fraught with a civil war which resulted in its gradual breakup. The ex-Yugoslav states – Slovenia, Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Montenegro, Macedonia, and Kosovo* have not regained their membership within the Non-Aligned Movement. The question of transitional justice in the region is still ongoing. [2] Serbia, Croatia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina currently hold an observer status in the Non-Aligned Movement. [3] The ruling party in Serbia was created in 2008 by former members of the far-right Serbian Radical Party of Vojislav Seselj, who served as prime minister of Serbia between 1998 and 2000, and was tried for war crimes by the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. [4] https://www.danas.rs/vesti/drustvo/pocinje-10-medjunarodni-sajam-naoruzanja-i-vojne-opreme-partner-2021/ [5] https://pescanik.net/pred-vratima-naseg-grada/ [6] https://www.a11initiative.org/en/request-for-the-urgent-reaction-of-the-competent-institutions-in-case-of-potential-human-trafficking-for-the-purpose-of-labor-exploitation-of-workers-from-vietnam-engaged-in-the-company-linglong/ [7] https://nova.rs/vesti/drustvo/deca-u-lazarevcu-se-otrovala-od-zagadjenja-dok-su-trcala-kros/ [8] https://www.a11initiative.org/en/the-commissioner-for-the-protection-of-equality-finds-that-raiffeisen-bank-discriminated-against-refugees/ [9] https://www.slobodnaevropa.org/a/samit-nesvrstanih-beograd/31502971.html [10] REFLECT – Namibia after 30 years of independence (2020), EVERYDAY POETICS Instagramming Life in East Africa (2019), POLES APART Exhibition by Massinissa Selmani etc. (2019) [11] The Museum of Yugoslavia is the new name of a complex of three museums. The “Prometheans of the New Century” exhibition takes place at The 25th May Museum, named after the birthday of Tito, as the institution was presented to the president as a gift from the city on his seventieth birthday. Interestingly, it was designed in 1962 by the architect Mihailo Mika Janković, the same architect who designed the aforementioned Central Committee (CK) and Federal Executive Council (SIV) buildings. The period that followed the 1961 NAM summit in Belgrade was marked by many milestones in the field of culture, including the founding of the Museum of Contemporary Art in Belgrade in 1965. [12] After the Trade Union Hall was privatized in 2018, the painting was moved to another hallway within the newly renamed Kombank Hall. Previous Next

Public Moments WCSCD Educational program 2025/2026 at SKUP September 2025 Decentring the Museum. Contemporary Art Institutions and Colonial Legacies Lecture by Nina Möntmann September 10th, 2025 Assembling Land: Rehearsals towards Placemaking Decentring the Museum. Contemporary Art Institutions and Colonial Legacies Lecture by Marina Christodoulidou September 19th, 2025 A practice of Artwriting Button Lecture by Toby Upson October 3d, 2025 WCSCD 2025/2026 educational program participants June 2025 Open call: WCSCD Educational program 2025/2026 Jan, 2025

Nathalie Encarnacion < Back A response to Bruno Latour’s Protective Measures Nathalie Encarnacion “What protective measures can you think of so we don’t go back to the pre-crisis production model?” The pandemic has affected both demand for and supply of commodities. Those effects are direct, resulting from shutdowns to mitigate the spread of the virus and disruptions to supply chains, and also indirect, as the global response slows growth and leads to what is anticipated to be the deepest global recession in decades. However, according to the Guardian, “Global carbon emissions from the fossil fuel industry could fall by a record 2.5bn tonnes this year, a reduction of 5%, as the coronavirus pandemic triggers the biggest drop in demand for fossil fuels on record.” For the first time in 50 years, we would be seeing the fossil fuel industry’s biggest drop in CO2 emissions. It is in everyone’s best interest to continue to cease consumption and the support of the consumer market, retail market, and marketplaces that support energy, industrial, industries fueling climate change. We have control. This is not a challenge. The world is telling us to slow down. Rethink your International transport, rethink your local transport, rethink your spending habits. This is the new normal. Continue restricting your flying to only critical, long-distance trips. Maritime and air shipping have an extreme effect on the climate, from clothes to groceries shipped from Chile and Australia to Europe. There are no perfect solutions to slow down or reverse climate change. However be mindful. We can see from our lifestyle changes we have the power. We must continue to support local and consume less. When we see our neighbor suffering, help them. This is our new reality. Systems of government are not in our favor, your neighbor is. Lend your neighbor a hand. Support your community. Trust in one another. We have demonstrated very clearly these past 7 weeks that we can come together, connect from afar, turn off pollution, curve co2 emissions. This does not have to be temporary. And we do not need to see people suffer. There is a light in this darkness. When the ban gets lifted continue to exercise your rights as citizens and consumers. Avoid investing your money into companies that fuel fossil industries and a capitalist system gridlocked in investing in high-emission industries and begin investing into the one’s beside you. This is a moment to embrace the road towards transition. We must continue to sacrifice. Build our own local economies. Embrace the DIY. Maintain strength. Discipline. Control. And do not fear. We must invest in renewable energy sources, our friends, and in ourselves. Think positively. Burn down a corrupt economic, capitalist system. Work with each other, not against. Create cooperatives. This isn’t a time of uncertainty or fear. This is the time of utmost certainty. We know what we should be doing. We are the solution. Continue to reflect. Continue to be mindful. Continue to disrupt supply chains and rattle the market. Continue to create meaningful new and cold connections. Stand 6 feet apart, with strength and care. This is no longer about about “me” it is about “us”. I ask WHAT DO WE TRULY NEED? HOW CAN WE FULFILL OURSELVES IN MEANINGFUL WAYS THAT GO BEYOND CONSUMPTION? WHAT IS WEALTH MEASURED BY? Nathalie Encarnacion (b. 1994, New York) is a conceptual researcher working within the realms of media, writing, discussion, exhibition and art making. Previous Next