Virtual Library

A Most Uncertain Crusade traces and analyzes the emergence of human rights as both an international concern and as a controversial domestic issue for US policy makers during and after World War II. Rowland Brucken focuses on officials in the State Department, at the United Nations, and within certain domestic non-governmental organizations, and explains why, after issuing wartime declarations that called for the definition and enforcement of international human rights standards, the US government refused to ratify the first UN treaties that fulfilled those twin purposes. The Truman and Eisenhower administrations worked to weaken the scope and enforcement mechanisms of early human rights agreements, and gradually withdrew support for Senate ratification. A small but influential group of isolationist–oriented senators, led by John Bricker (R-OH), warned that the treaties would bring about socialism, destroy white supremacy, and eviscerate the Bill of Rights. At the UN, a growing bloc of developing nations demanded the inclusion of economic guarantees, support for decolonization, and strong enforcement measures, all of which Washington opposed. 

Prior to World War II, international law considered the protection of individual rights to fall largely under the jurisdiction of national governments. Alarmed by fascist tyranny and guided by a Wilsonian vision of global cooperation in pursuit of human rights, President Roosevelt issued the Four Freedoms and the Atlantic Charter. Behind the scenes, the State Department planners carefully considered how an international organization could best protect those guarantees. Their work paid off at the 1945 San Francisco Conference, which vested the UN with an unprecedented opportunity to define and protect the human rights of individuals. 

After two years of negotiations, the UN General Assembly unanimously approved its first human rights treaty, the Genocide Convention. The UN Commission on Human Rights (UNCHR), led by Eleanor Roosevelt, drafted the nonbinding Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948. Subsequent efforts to craft an enforceable covenant of individual rights, though, bogged down quickly. A deadlock occurred as western nations, communist states, and developing countries disagreed on the inclusion of economic and social guarantees, the right of self-determination, and plans for implementation. 

Meanwhile, a coalition of groups within the United States doubted the wisdom of American accession to any human rights treaties. Led by the American Bar Association and Senator Bricker, opponents proclaimed that ratification would lead to a U.N. led tyrannical world socialistic government. The backlash caused President Eisenhower to withdraw from the covenant drafting process. Brucken shows how the American human rights policy had come full circle: Eisenhower, like Roosevelt, issued statements that merely celebrated western values of freedom and democracy, criticized human rights records of other countries while at the same time postponed efforts to have the UN codify and enforce a list of binding rights due in part to America's own human rights violations.

This essay reviews what anthropologists have contributed to the human rights framework and how they have used it for research and advocacy.

The issue of racist or hate speech engages both Article 10 and Article 17 of the European Convention on Human Rights. The early admissibility decisions of the Commission, invoking Article 17 alone, or Article 10 in conjunction with Article 17, reflected a confused understanding of the relationship between the provisions. The Lehideux and Isorni vs France (1996) judgement of the European Court of Human Rights clarified that Article 17 applies only in the context of Holocaust denial and related questioning of historical facts, and as a result, racist or xenophobic speech against minorities is protected under Article 10(1) of the Convention. The article asks whether all racist speech should find protection under Article 10(1), interference being allowed only when balanced against the conditions of Article 10(2); or whether all such speech should be condemned and attacked under Article 17. The philosophical arguments and legal implications of both approaches are analysed. Finally, the desire to protect criticism of religion at the European level is explored in the context of the ‘Danish cartoons' controversy and the evolving meaning of the term ‘hate speech’.

Evidence for Hope makes the case that, yes, human rights work. Critics may counter that the movement is in serious jeopardy or even a questionable byproduct of Western imperialism. They point out that Guantánamo is still open, the Arab Spring protests have been crushed, and governments are cracking down on NGOs everywhere. But respected human rights expert Kathryn Sikkink draws on decades of research and fieldwork to provide a rigorous rebuttal to pessimistic doubts about human rights laws and institutions. She demonstrates that change comes slowly and as the result of struggle, but in the long term, human rights movements have been vastly effective. Attacks on the human rights movement’s credibility are based on the faulty premise that human rights ideas emerged in North America and Europe and were imposed on developing southern nations. Starting in the 1940s, Latin American leaders and activists were actually early advocates for the international protection of human rights. Sikkink shows that activists and scholars disagree about the efficacy of human rights because they use different yardsticks to measure progress. Comparing the present to the past, she shows that genocide and violence against civilians have declined over time, while access to healthcare and education has increased dramatically. Cognitive and news biases contribute to pervasive cynicism, but Sikkink’s investigation into past and current trends indicates that human rights is not in its twilight. Instead, this is a period of vibrant activism that has made impressive improvements in human well-being. Exploring the strategies that have led to real humanitarian gains since the middle of the twentieth century, Evidence for Hope looks at how these essential advances can be supported and sustained for decades to come.

The international campaign to eliminate female genital cutting (FGC) has, since the early 1990s, actively attempted to divorce itself from a health framework, adopting instead a human rights framework to justify intervention. Several key questions emerge regarding the prominent placement of FGC in the international human rights movement: What are the ramifications of framing FGC as a human rights violation? What actions are mandated by a human rights approach? What perils and pitfalls potentially arise from the adoption of a rights-based framework, and how might they be avoided? In exploring these questions it becomes clear that, although a human rights approach is promising, careful deliberation is required to develop action strategies that offer both protection and respect for the culture and autonomy of those women and families concerned.

This article questions the characterization of the 1999 Declaration as a complete turnaround by studying the role that the 1947 Statement has played in the development of anthropological views on human rights. In particular, it takes a diachronic look at the institutional actions of the AAA of the 1940s and those of the 1990s by comparing the 1947 Statement with the 1999 Declaration. It also compares responses to the Statement in the 1940s with those in the 1990s, exploring various ways that anthropologists have reacted to the Boasian cultural relativism that is generally considered to be embodied in the Statement. I argue that, despite their many disclaimers of the Statement (generally voiced as embarrassment), today’s pro-rights anthropologists continue to struggle with the same issues that the 1947 AAA Board confronted regarding the limits of tolerance. In particular, the question of how one might be a cultural relativist and still make overt political judgments guides today’s Human Rights Committee in much the same way it guided the 1947 Board. (excerpt pg. 537)

Since the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 the refugee regime has evolved with our modern state system, reflecting changes in international law, politics, economics and ideology. Responding to a history of religious and political persecutions, a comprehensive refugee regime finally emerged under the League of Nations after World War I. This regime underwent dramatic change during World War II to create a permanent framework to cope with the refugee problem through the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees and the UN Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees. The Cold War had an overwhelming influence on the norms and rules of this regime, and in the post‐Cold War era the regime has struggled to reflect and adapt to emerging global concerns — from internally displaced persons to gender and race distributional issues. As UNHCR is forced to reconsider its definitions, laws, and policies, the larger evolving regime must give way to a form of global governance in which the international authority of the UN body has more meaningful influence on the implementation of national law and policy.

Sovereignty and the sovereign state are often seen as anachronisms; Globalization and Sovereignty challenges this view. Jean L. Cohen analyses the new sovereignty regime emergent since the 1990s evidenced by the discourses and practice of human rights, humanitarian intervention, transformative occupation and the UN targeted sanctions regime that blacklists alleged terrorists. Presenting a systematic theory of sovereignty and its transformation in international law and politics, Cohen argues for the continued importance of sovereign equality. She offers a theory of a dualistic world order comprising an international society of states and a global political community in which human rights and global governance institutions affect the law, policies and political culture of sovereign states. She advocates the constitutionalisation of these institutions, within the framework of constitutional pluralism. This book will appeal to students of international political theory and law, political scientists, sociologists, legal historians and theorists of constitutionalism.

The Universal Declaration on Human Rights was pivotal in popularizing the use of ‘dignity’ or ‘human dignity’ in human rights discourse. This article argues that the use of ‘dignity’, beyond a basic minimum core, does not provide a universalistic, principled basis for judicial decision-making in the human rights context, in the sense that there is little common understanding of what dignity requires substantively within or across jurisdictions. The meaning of dignity is therefore context-specific, varying significantly from jurisdiction to jurisdiction and (often) over time within particular jurisdictions. Indeed, instead of providing a basis for principled decision-making, dignity seems open to significant judicial manipulation, increasing rather than decreasing judicial discretion. That is one of its significant attractions to both judges and litigators alike. Dignity provides a convenient language for the adoption of substantive interpretations of human rights guarantees which appear to be intentionally, not just coincidentally, highly contingent on local circumstances. Despite that, however, I argue that the concept of ‘human dignity’ plays an important role in the development of human rights adjudication, not in providing an agreed content to human rights but in contributing to particular methods of human rights interpretation and adjudication.

The closing months of his presidency, Bill Clinton and some of his entourage have taken to using the buzzphrase "human and political rights" to replace the simpler "human rights. Despite attempts to base the rights on "nature", in most cases they—by their very design—either run counter to nature or, at best, concern things about which nature is strictly neutral. There is nothing wrong with defining rights in terms of high human aspirations, but they will then require a very different justification from rights based on human needs. They involve, in effect, a purely teleological justification: human rights become the rights we need in order to achieve a certain desired end state of society, not rights derived from the elusive state of true humanness. One of the major paradoxes surrounding the human rights issue is that it became central to foreign policy as part of a deliberate strategy to protect the national interest.