Madrid, Spain – On Friday, a survivor of the 1937 Guernica massacre and a Palestinian protester will sound an alarm in the Spanish marketplace bombed by a Nazi legion 86 years ago, to pay tribute to the victims of Israel’s bloody campaign in Gaza.
Hundreds of people in the Spanish town, which became an international symbol of the horrors of war thanks to Pablo Picasso’s masterpiece, will form a human mosaic, dressed in the red, black, white and green of the Palestinian flag.
Guernica was bombed by the Nazi Condor Legion during the Spanish Civil War, killing scores of defenceless civilians as Germany supported General Francisco Franco’s Nationalist forces.
Piccasso’s large oil painting, named after the town, portrays extreme suffering, including an image of a crying mother holding her lifeless child.
That scene within the painting will be represented in Friday’s protest, said Igor Otxoa, spokesperson for the Guernica Palestine organisation.
“We have always felt sympathy for the Palestinians because we suffered under the dictatorship and have undergone a long conflict with the Spanish state and independence groups here,” Otxoa told Al Jazeera.
The symbolic gesture is in line with Spain’s historic support of Palestinian rights, but comes at a tense time, as Madrid leads the few Western countries which are increasingly criticising Israel.
A poster for Friday’s event in Guernica [Courtesy of Guernica Palestine organisation]
At least 15,900 Palestinians have been killed in less than two months of the latest episode of the Israel-Palestine conflict war, which escalated when Hamas, the group which governs Gaza, attacked southern Israel on October 7, killing about 1,200 people and taking more than 200 captive.
Israel says its military action in the densely populated strip is designed to crush Hamas, which the United States, United Kingdom and European Union consider a “terrorist” entity.
On Monday, Palestinian health officials said that about 70 percent of the victims were women and children.
Last week, as images of child victims and bombed-out buildings flooded social media, Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sanchez said given “the footage we are seeing and the growing numbers of children dying, I have serious doubts [Israel] is complying with international humanitarian law”.
“What we are seeing in Gaza is not acceptable,” he added.
Sanchez’s words prompted a swift response from Israel, which reprimanded the Spanish ambassador to Jerusalem and withdrew its own diplomat from Madrid.
The Spanish leader, who has also condemned Hamas for its assault, is the highest-ranking and most well-known European official to condemn Israel, joined only by politicians in Ireland and Belgium.
Meanwhile, marches in favour of the Palestinian people have been held in cities across Spain.
Josu de Miguel, professor of constitutional law at Cantabria University, described Spain as “sociologically, a pro-Palestinian country”.
Sanchez heads a minority left-wing government which includes the far-left Sumar and Podemos parties, which are outspoken in their support for the Palestinians.
“Sanchez said Spain would be prepared to recognise an independent Palestinian state. This is not the position of the European Union, therefore, it took a unilateral stance,” de Miguel told Al Jazeera.
“The Spanish [coalition] government is composed of parties which are sympathetic to the Palestinian cause and not Israel. Another factor is that in Spain, the Left demonstrates more than the Right.”
Spanish history with the Arab world
Some analysts believe that Spain’s solidarity with the Palestinian cause may be rooted in its own history.
Spain has only a small Jewish community of up to about 50,000 people, partly because of a historical hangover. To compare, the community in France, which is home to Europe’s largest Jewish minority, is about 500,000 people.
In 1492, with the Alhambra Decree, Catholic monarchs expelled the Jewish population. In 2015, more than 500 years later, Spain offered Jews an apology by way of granting citizenship to Sephardic Jews around the world.
During General Franco’s rule, fascist Spain, isolated by the West, was aligned with Arab states. Diplomatic relations with Israel only began in 1986 – 11 years after the dictator’s death.
“Though there is controversy over whether Franco was anti-Semitic or not, during the dictatorship Spain never recognised the state of Israel and cultivated good contacts with Arab countries,” said Ignacio Molina, an expert in Spanish foreign affairs at the Autonomous University of Madrid.
“During the transition to democracy, between 1976 and 1982, centrist governments never recognised Israel. This only happened in 1986 with the Socialist government as a condition for Spain to enter into the European Union.”
Molina told Al Jazeera that in 2014, the Spanish parliament approved a motion in favour of recognising a Palestinian state but this was not a nonbinding proposition.
“There is a tradition on the left and right to be sympathetic to Palestine, even though those more on the right have supported Israel,” he said.
Celebrated director Pedro Almodovar has accused Israel of ‘genocide’ against the Palestinian people [Eric Gaillard/Reuters]
In November, Oscar-winning film director Pedro Almodovar was among 350 filmmakers, actors, singers and other cultural figures who signed a manifesto last month condemning the “criminal terrorist actions of Hamas”, but it added this “could not serve to justify the genocide which Israel practices against the Palestinian people”.
Right-wing parties and Spain’s small Jewish community condemned the letter; both of whom have also criticised Sanchez.
“The position of the Spanish government has aligned it with Hamas. It condemns the terrorism of Hamas then goes on to accept the lies from Hamas as if they are a responsible government which cares for its people,” Rabbi Mario Stofenmacher, who represents Jewish communities in Spain, told Al Jazeera.
He said since the war started Spanish society had become more polarised.
“I wear bracelets with symbols of Israel, Spain and Ukraine on my wrist, but people have challenged me strongly about the Israeli bracelet,” Stofenmacher said.
Alberto Nunez Feijoo, leader of the opposition conservative People’s Party, has united with the far-right Vox party in accusing Sanchez of shaming Spain abroad.
A survey published in November by the Electomania polling agency found 53.3 percent of Spaniards believed their country should take a more active role in trying to resolve the Israel-Palestine war, while 27.8 percent said Madrid should stay out of the conflict. About 17 percent were not sure.
An earlier survey in October also found divisions.
Some 21 percent favoured Israel while 24.3 percent backed Palestine, according to the poll for DYM. But 43 percent did not have a view about Israel and 47.6 percent felt the same towards Palestine.
“The evaluation of the government’s performance on Israel or Hamas has a huge ideological and partisan bias; support and good evaluation from voters on the left, bad from those on the right,” Jose Pablo Ferrandiz, of polling company Ipsos Spain, told Al Jazeera.
Cristina Lopez, a public relations executive from Valencia, believes geopolitical issues become subsumed into domestic political issues in Spain.
“Like most, if not all, aspects of life in Spain, there is a domestic political subtext behind it and the conflict in Israel and Palestine is no different,” she said.
“Sanchez’s latest words are sending a message to his coalition partners, Basque and Catalan nationalists, whose support he relies on to govern.”
Spain’s inconclusive July elections meant Sanchez was forced to enlist the support of pro-independence parties in the Basque Country and Catalonia to form a minority left-wing coalition government.
Nationalism in the Basque Country and Catalonia has meant some people in these regions are more sympathetic towards the Palestinians because they identify with their position in relation to their powerful neighbours.
“Some people in the Basque Country, where I am from, identify with the Palestinians,” said Itxaso Dominguez De Olazabal, EU advocacy officer at the 7amleh-The Arab Center for the Advancement of Social Media, a Madrid-based think tank.
“To them, Spain is Israel and the Basque people or the Catalans are the Palestinians. But then again to (former Catalan leader) Carles Puigdemont, Catalonia’s experience is like Israel in founding a new state in 1948.”
She believes that Spain’s political stance towards Israel is double-edged.
“On the one hand, Spain condemns Israel’s actions but both countries maintain commercial links. Israel and Spain buy and sell weapons from each other,” she said.
They may weigh a maximum of 500 grammes (one pound) and only grow to 10 centimetres (four inches), but the farming of giant snails is proving to be big business in the Ivory Coast.
Considered a delicacy for their tasty flesh, the giant snails are also used to make cosmetics manufactured from their slime and shells.
But nearly 90 percent of the West African country’s forests have disappeared over the last 60 years, something which, together with the widespread use of pesticides, has decimated wild snails’ natural habitat.
Most forest has been lost to agricultural production in the world’s top producer of cocoa – to the detriment of the creatures that naturally thrive in a hot, humid environment.
As wild snail numbers have steadily fallen, farms that specialise in breeding them have increasingly sprung up. There are some 1,500 in the humid south alone.
A popular appetiser in the Ivory Coast, the snails are bred on farms such as one of many in the town of Azaguie, some 40km (25 miles) north of the commercial capital, Abidjan.
Inside some 10 brick and cement containers topped with mesh lids is a layer of earth and another of leaves.
Between the two slither thousands of snails, juveniles and breeders – some much larger than those found in Europe.
The gastropods are watered and fed every two days.
Names marked with an asterisk* have been changed to protect identities.
Valleta, Malta – Amit* cruised through the lanes of Marsaxlokk, a colourful Maltese fishing hamlet, on his way to pick up two passengers in his taxi.
“I love my job in this country,” he said. “Malta was my entry to Europe.”
Amit arrived this year from Bangladesh, having paid $3,200 to an immigration agency.
“I found an agency on Facebook that had advertised this job with a private taxi company. The agency helped me with my application and visa documents to come to Malta and work,” he told Al Jazeera.
“I’m now earning around 1,000 euros [$1,085] per month, some of which I send home. It has been an expensive process, but I’m happy.”
A few streets away, Nita*, who is from northeastern India, waited for a bus to take her towards Malta’s capital, Valletta.
“I used to live in Dubai and had been working in the hospitality sector there. But I wanted to get to Europe and found a recruitment agency in Dubai which helped me get a Maltese work permit,” she told Al Jazeera.
In recent years, the Maltese archipelago has become something of a hub, attracting thousands of migrants who fill labour shortages, especially in the hospitality, healthcare and service industries.
Former Prime Minister Joseph Muscat, who in a June 2014 speech said he aimed to turn Malta into the “next Dubai”, is credited with the migration flows in recent years.
In that speech, he also indicated that he aimed to mirror Dubai’s system of recruiting migrant workers from South and Southeast Asian countries through agencies.
“Being at the crossroads in the Mediterranean and the centre of the busiest shipping route in the world, our geography has always made us attractive to migrants who want to work in our country,” Muscat told Al Jazeera.
“But in recent years, we’ve faced labour shortages in some sectors like the service and healthcare industry and also have an ageing population. So introducing a system of bringing migrants in such a structured manner to the country was integral.”
Former Maltese Prime Minister Joseph Muscat has pushed the recruitment of foreign workers [File: Yara Nardi/Reuters]
Located in the Central Mediterranean, Malta is also an entry point to Europe for thousands of people from Africa, the Middle East and Asia fleeing conflict and poverty.
While Malta has accepted asylum seekers, rights groups have also accused the country of “illegal tactics” to turn refugees away, such as pushbacks at sea.
Daniel Mainwaring, an independent foreign policy and migration researcher from Malta, said Valletta has created “legal pathways” for foreigners who want to work in Malta but, when the government sees thousands of people arriving by sea seeking refuge, “then it is all about reducing overall migrant arrivals.”
“Contracted migrants are often seen as the good ones, and those that enter the country by sea are considered illegal. What is ironic is that they’re [sometimes] people coming from the same country,” Mainwaring said.
“For example, there are Bangladeshis who get visas with the help of agencies and enter Malta, and Bangladeshis whose visas get rejected for whatever reason, so they pick the sea route to enter Malta, seeking refuge.
“People from the same country of origin are coming in through two very different migratory pathways and are equally vulnerable but are being treated differently.”
Foreign workers for ‘these kind of jobs’
Non-European Union countries with a significant number of nationals working as contracted migrants in Malta include India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and the Philippines.
Private recruitment agencies sell the idea of working in Malta by offering attractive salaries. They also charge commission for helping people with Maltese residency documents.
“Our economy, like any other growing one, has witnessed upward social mobility, and this brought about a growing problem of lack of people who would want to or would be willing to go into certain jobs in the service industry, such as hospitality and healthcare,” Muscat said.
“Economic growth brought about migration with people from non-EU nations keen to do these kind of jobs and send money back to their home countries.”
But immigration agencies have been found by rights groups and investigative journalists to be engaging in exploitative practices, such as recruiting people to jobs that pay below the minimum wage with poor conditions. According to local media reports, some agencies have even been found to offer jobs that do not actually exist once migrants enter Malta.
“I have heard of stories of some people not getting paid properly or not getting a job after arriving. They have then been forced to leave,” Nita said. “While I am happy working here, I eventually want to get work elsewhere in Europe. Our living conditions here are still very poor. But I can’t complain since I have to support my family back in India.”
Neil Falzon, director of the Aditus foundation, a Maltese human rights organisation, told Al Jazeera that foreign workers who use recruitment agencies to get to Malta “do not enjoy much protection from the government”.
“The level of rights that they have is extremely low,” he said, “so we are really talking about modern slavery here.”
Muscat said dubious agencies involved in abusing workers’ rights should be punished and noted that the government has begun to take action. Prime Minister Robert Abela’s government has drafted new rules for recruitment agencies which are expected to come into force next year.
“It’s great that the government has acknowledged that there is a problem, but after big announcements, implementation of rules is slow,” Falzon said. “In many cases, the battle is less against the government and more against the private agencies who are employing and exploiting migrants. So we’re trying to push the government to have more stringent legislation to ensure better rights for contracted migrants,”
At the same time, some locals and far-right politicians have begun calling on the government to crack down on foreign labour.
“[Some] local Maltese people want migrants to build and clean our roads but also blame them if there is crime. So then you’ll see the government clamping down on the African or Asian migrant community by arresting a few or revoking their residency status, all in an effort to show a couple of angry locals and far-right politicians that they’re managing migration,” Mainwaring said.
Maltese special forces guard a group of migrants on the merchant ship Elhiblu 1 after it arrived in Senglea, Malta [File: Darrin Zammit Lupi/Reuters]
Muscat said, however: “We need non-Maltese workers for the simple reason that some of our sectors and our economy and crucial social sectors such as healthcare would collapse if it wasn’t for these people. So they need to be protected and the government is ensuring that.”
Besides Malta, other EU nations like Hungary have also been bringing in migrants through recruitment agencies in recent years.
In July, Italian Prime Minister Georgia Meloni said she plans to bring in 450,000 non-EU migrant workers in the next two years as she simultaneously announced plans to stop refugee arrivals by sea.
Bram Frouws, head of the Mixed Migration Centre, said countries that quietly welcome foreign workers while adopting far more hostile policies on undocumented people do so “for political gain or to use migrants as a scapegoat”.
“While organising legal migration is exactly what is needed, the way irregular migration is being handled with the push and pullbacks, the abuses and deaths and the undermining of search and rescue at sea is a bigger issue,” he said.
“To a large extent, these European countries are also looking at other countries of origin for labour migrants than the nationalities of those arriving at sea. So the kind of legal migration they’re organising won’t necessarily solve the irregular migration by sea,” he added.
For Mainwaring, the ideal solution is to process asylum claims quickly and integrate refugees into society.
“Then there’s less of a need perhaps to resort to a contracted migration system, which in reality has turned out exploitative and is as harsh as a pushback at sea, ” he said.
Deir el-Balah, Gaza Strip – It’s been two weeks, and the al-Samounis still have no idea what happened to their sons and brothers. They are in shock.
The 36 women and children, crammed into one tent for displaced people on the grounds of Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital, have four blankets to share among themselves.
They used to live in Zeitoun, in the southeast of Gaza City, where they farmed their 69 dunams (17 acres) in peace, they said.
But from the first day of Israel’s assault on Gaza, October 7, they were forced to flee south, and decided to take what the Israeli army said was a “safe corridor”: Salah al-Din, the main road that runs north-south in the Gaza Strip. But the corridor was not so safe after all.
Zahwa al-Samouni, 56, could barely talk when she recounted how the Israeli soldiers took her three sons away.
Zahwa al-Samouni saw her sons taken by Israeli soldiers at a checkpoint as they were fleeing south [Abdelhakim Abu Riash/Al Jazeera]
The family were walking on the road, trying not to fixate on the bodies of dead Palestinians on the ground, when they reached a newly erected Israeli checkpoint. Before the family could pass through the turnstiles, the soldiers ordered Abdullah al-Samouni, 24, to step to the side of the road, in a trench hidden from view. His younger brother Hamam, 16, started calling for Abdullah, visibly distraught. The soldiers ordered Hamam to join his brother.
The oldest brother, Faraj, a farmer and father of six, shouted at the soldiers, asking them where they were taking Abdullah and Hamam. His protest resulted in the soldiers commanding him to join his brothers.
The rest of the family, stunned, made their way through the turnstiles.
“When we passed the checkpoint, I saw two men stripped to their underwear in the trench with numbers marked on their shoulders,” Zahwa said. “There were other men, and I could make out my son Faraj.”
Her sister-wife Zeenat, who is Abdullah and Hamam’s mother, said she informed the Red Cross of the brothers’ names, ID numbers and mobile phone numbers.
There are 36 al-Samounis in one tent in the central town of Deir el-Balah [Abdelhakim Abu Riash/Al Jazeera]
“Every day that goes by is like a year for us,” she said. “I sit by the entrance of the tent hoping someone will have news of them. I just want to know what happened to them, if they’re OK, if they’re alive.”
The mother of seven had taken the so-called safe corridor three days before her sons and stepchildren. She had been staying at a relative’s house, then tried staying at a school shelter, but the bombings became too intense.
“We were afraid, but we decided to take the risk because we knew other people who managed to reach south,” the 49-year-old said. “We walked past our land, and we saw so many Israeli tanks there and all our homes destroyed.”
Zeenat and her family raised white flags and their IDs in front of the Israeli snipers.
“We walked with our hearts about to jump out with fear, starting from nine in the morning,” she said. “When we finally got to Deir el-Balah, the sun was setting.”
She said she had seen children’s torn limbs among the bodies on the road.
Zahwa said that when she made the same trek three days later, Israeli soldiers told them anyone who stopped moving at all or looked back would be shot.
“They jeered at us as we passed the checkpoint,” Zahwa said. “They swore at us in Arabic, using the most foul words, and cursed our prophet Muhammad and God. They called us Hamas supporters, and promised to finish us off when we go south.”
She gripped her face, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Her granddaughter and namesake, 10-year-old Zahwa, recalls the events of that day.
Zahwa al-Samouni shows a photo of her father Faraj, who was kidnapped by Israeli soldiers on November 16 [Abdelhakim Abu Riash/Al Jazeera]
“We were walking, my parents and two brothers and three sisters, and when we got to the checkpoint the Israelis took my dad and uncles,” she said, speaking with a clarity beyond her years.
“My dad [Faraj] was holding my hand, and the Israelis took him from me,” she said, pain etched on her face. “The soldiers also took the bag that had our clothes in it. Just clothes, not bombs or weapons,” she scoffed.
The younger Zahwa said the Israeli soldiers shot a man in front of them and did nothing as he bled to death.
“The man had learning disabilities,” she said. “He was walking in a line and looked back. The soldiers told him to look straight ahead, and as he turned his head they shot him in the stomach.”
“This is not a safe corridor, it’s a death corridor. It’s a corridor of fear,” she added. “They killed people, they beat them, and they made them take off their clothes.”
A pillar in the family
The horrors that the al-Samouni clan experienced are the latest in a series of traumas that began during the 2008-2009 Israeli offensive when soldiers killed 48 of their family members in Operation Cast Lead.
The army had corralled several families under one roof and fired missiles at the house, killing dozens. Some people managed to get out, waving white flags, but when the Red Cross was granted permission to enter the building three days later, they were met with the harrowing sight of 13 injured people, including eight children, who spent days without food or water, surrounded by the bodies of their parents and relatives.
Hamam al-Samouni, 16, was one of the brothers kidnapped by Israeli soldiers. Their fates are unknown [Abdelhakim Abu Riash/Al Jazeera]
One of those killed was Zahwa’s husband, Attiya. Their daughter Amal, who is Abdullah’s twin sister, was only eight at the time but remembers everything in vivid detail.
“That cold January day, 100 Israeli soldiers raided our home and killed my dad in front of us,” the 24-year-old said. “They first threw a grenade at the entrance of the house, engulfing us in smoke.”
The soldiers shouted in Hebrew for the homeowner to step forward. Attiya, who had worked previously in Israel, raised his arms and identified himself.
“They shot him between the eyes, then in the chest,” Amal said. “Then they kept shooting, riddling his body with bullets.”
Earlier, as the tanks surrounded their home, Attiya had taught his children to say in Hebrew “We are children”, but it made no difference.
“After they shot my dad they began firing at us,” Amal said. “Abdullah and I were both wounded. They set a fire in one of the bedrooms, and we were suffocating from the smoke.”
Hamam was barely a year old at the time. Their brother Ahmad, four years old at the time, was shot twice in the head and in the chest and was left to bleed to death until dawn the next day, as the Israeli army prevented any ambulances from reaching the area.
Ahmad died in his mother Zahwa’s arms. She had lost her husband, her son, and her home and in the 15 years since that fateful day, the family had to work twice as hard to rebuild their lives.
Shifa al-Samouni, Faraj’s wife, said her six children cannot sleep without their father [Abdelhakim Abu Riash/Al Jazeera]
Faraj was at the centre of it all. He immediately took on the role of the man of the house with no complaints and helped raise his younger siblings. He was a farmer, and very handy. He built his home with his own hands and, despite their modest background, refused any charity.
“He was a pillar we all relied on,” his mother Zahwa said. “He was so caring, and with him around we never had to beg for anything.”
His daughter Zahwa can’t sleep at night, wondering whether her dad is dead or alive.
“I want him back,” she sobbed. “He’s my rock; without him I am nothing. I miss holding his hand, I miss giving him hugs.”
Sfax, Tunisia – On the outskirts of Tunisia’s second-largest city and the destination point for thousands of sub-Saharan African refugees hoping to get to Europe, 15-year-old Osman Bah from Guinea points to his sleeping quarters.
The spot is hard to make out among the grey sand and plastic bags scattered across the wasteland, but it is there, he says, in the lee of some piled-up dirt and stones.
Other than the squat, yurt-shaped shelter, put together with pallets and plastic, there is nothing here but the distant outline of phosphate heaps, the occasional passing train and a white horse, tethered to a tree and standing defiant against the bleakness of its surroundings.
All the same, it is here and to the olive groves of Al Amra, about 25km (15.5 miles) away, that thousands of Black refugees and migrants were either bused or fled to after the Tunisian security services launched an operation to evict them from Sfax’s city centre in September.
Osman Bah, 15, came to Sfax from Guinea hoping to reach Europe [Simon Speakman Cordall/Al Jazeera]
Since then, the situation has deteriorated further. Right now, the fields around Al Amra have been locked down by the police and national guard as security units comb the area for a gun and ammunition reportedly lost during confrontations with the refugees and migrants sleeping rough there. A situation those living on the scrubland refer to as “the problem”.
The choice of Al Amra as the site where the authorities moved them is significant.
Long before the evictions, Al Amra and the small, hardscrabble hamlets around it, such as El-Hamaziah, were already established departure points for those seeking to escape their lives in sub-Saharan Africa for new ones in Europe. There, crude metal boats would be assembled by local fishermen and their families, the refugees say, before being bought and chartered for Europe by the refugees themselves.
The decision to flood the region with yet more arrivals from sub-Saharan Africa has not been explained. However, some say it is not insignificant that the move came amid rising tensions between Tunisia and the European Commission surrounding a “pact on migration” that the two sides signed in July.
An influx of refugees fleeing the war in Sudan, which has raged since April, has already sorely tested Tunisia’s resources and put its relations with Europe under increasing strain.
Violence against Black people had exploded across Tunisia in February when President Kais Saied accused the refugees of bringing “violence, crime and unacceptable practices” to the country as part of a wider plot to change the predominantly Arab country’s demographic makeup.
A horse tethered to a tree on the outskirts of Sfax, Tunisia, where refugees from sub-Saharan Africa wait, hoping to get on a boat to Europe [Simon Speakman Cordall/Al Jazeera]
‘The police released tear gas, lots of tear gas’
On November 24, the situation in Al Amra escalated again. “Lots of police arrived,” Omar Jjie, an 18-year-old Gambian tells Osman, who translates roughly. “They dug up the boats [to be used for transporting people to Europe] buried under the sand.
“The boys, they grew very angry and threw stones, so the police released tear gas, lots of tear gas.”
In the ensuing melee, four national guardsmen were reportedly injured. Video shared widely on social media ostensibly shows a stricken guardsman lying on the ground, immobile and bleeding.
The people camped there claim that three of their number lost their lives during the violence as well. One, Mohammed Ceesay, was well known to those sleeping rough.
Twenty people were arrested in the confrontation’s immediate aftermath. Reports of more being rounded up and expelled to Libya and Algeria are also growing, which would be an act in contravention of international law and is one Tunisia has denied undertaking.
Omar insists he played no role in the violence, saying he only witnessed it. But as someone who had already paid the 500 euros ($545) for a place on one of the boats, raised through casual work picking olives and money sent by wire from his family in Gambia, he had no choice but to watch as his boat was unearthed and destroyed by the police.
Now, he sits slumped outside a cafe on the far side of the wasteland, back on the outskirts of Sfax, a small crowd gathered around him, asking if what friends in Al Amra have told them about the events over social media is true.
“I walked [here] on the back road,” he says, switching to English. “I walked from 19km,” he says, using the shorthand common among many here, supplanting road distance markers for place names. “I don’t want the police to see me. There are so many police there. They are looking for the gun.”
Locked down
Since November 24, security units have essentially locked the region down. French newspaper Le Monde reported increasing numbers of special units from the national guard being deployed as well as police officers with the National Rapid Intervention Brigade.
The local member of parliament, Fatma Mseddi, spoke on local radio, accusing the refugees of “terrorising” local inhabitants and being members of Boko Haram despite the majority coming from Sudan, not a location typically associated with the armed group.
Ibrahim Njie from Guinea, who says some of his friends have been detained by police, avoids the authorities [Simon Speakman Cordall/Al Jazeera]
“The police, they are angry and they lose one gun and six rounds,” Ibrahim Njie from Guinea says as he stands outside a nearby mosque, its foundation skirted with rubble and isolated scrub. “My friend says the police came and took them prisoner. They say, ‘If you return the gun, we will let you go.’”
One young man who gives his name simply as Mohammed adds: “If [the police] catch you here, they take away your phone and your money. Sometimes they take you away to Libya or Tebessa [a town in Algeria close to the border with Tunisia]. Many of my friends have been taken.”
“Six buses, they come here,” he says gesturing around the desolate scrubland.
According to Mohammed and others, two days after the confrontation in Al Amra, two Black refugees died after falling from a rooftop while trying to escape the police.
Osman believes he will get to Europe eventually, whatever the circumstances, he says.
He texts from a friend’s phone later in the day. He had just talked to his sister in Gambia.
It had been months since he last talked with them. For Osman, at least, there is still hope.
Montreal, Canada – More than a month into its bombardment of Gaza, the Israeli military issued a warning: Ground troops had surrounded the largest hospital in the Palestinian enclave, al-Shifa. A raid would be launched “in minutes”.
The impending siege of the Gaza City health complex sparked panic among the thousands of injured patients, medical staff and displaced Palestinians sheltering there.
But amid urgent international pleas to protect Gaza’s hospitals, much of the focus in Canada was on the tougher tone of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau.
“I have been clear: The price of justice cannot be the continued suffering of all Palestinian civilians. Even wars have rules,” Trudeau said in a news conference on November 14, around the time the al-Shifa raid began.
“I urge the government of Israel to exercise maximum restraint,” he continued, offering his toughest comments since the war began. For weeks, Trudeau had been ignoring calls – and some of Canada’s largest protests in recent memory – demanding an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.
“The world is watching. On TV, on social media, we’re hearing the testimonies of doctors, family members, survivors, kids who’ve lost their parents. The world is witnessing this. The killing of women and children – of babies; this has to stop.”
Palestinians wounded in Israeli strikes sit on beds at al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza City on November 25 [Abed Sabah/Reuters]
The response from Tel Aviv was swift. Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu reacted publicly to Trudeau’s speech, arguing on social media that the Palestinian group Hamas, not Israel, was responsible for any civilian casualties. Netanyahu pointed to Hamas’s attacks in southern Israel on October 7, one of the events that precipitated the war.
Pro-Israel lobby groups in Canada echoed that argument, saying “the blood of dead babies – Israeli and Palestinian – is on Hamas” and accusing Trudeau of fuelling anti-Semitism.
In the days that followed, Canadian ministers sought to temper Trudeau’s comments.
“The prime minister, quite understandably, is concerned about innocent lives on both sides of that border,” Defence Minister Bill Blair told the Canadian network CTV. “We’ve also been crystal clear: Israel has the right to defend itself.”
The episode is one of many examples in recent weeks of what observers have described as Canada’s “schizophrenic” foreign policy when it comes to Israel and Palestine.
“Whenever [Trudeau] does show any mettle with respect to this, he invariably then steps back from what he said after any sort of criticism coming from either the Israel lobby in Canada or Israeli leaders,” Michael Lynk, a former United Nations special rapporteur on human rights in the occupied Palestinian territories, told Al Jazeera.
It is not Israel that is deliberately targeting civilians but Hamas that beheaded, burned and massacred civilians in the worst horrors perpetrated on Jews since the Holocaust.
While Israel is doing everything to keep civilians out of harm’s way, Hamas is doing…
Unlike its powerful neighbour and Israel’s foremost backer, the United States, Canada says it aims to tread the middle ground in its policy on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It supports a two-state solution, opposes illegal Israeli settlements in the occupied territories and says international law must be respected by all parties.
But experts say Canada has two policies when it comes to the conflict: one on paper and one in practice.
They note that Canada has cast UN votes against its own stated positions and opposed Palestinian efforts to seek redress at the International Criminal Court, and argue that it has backed hardline, Israeli policies and failed to hold the country accountable for rights abuses.
“This government, as well as previous Canadian governments, have unfortunately had a blind spot with respect to Israel,” said Farida Deif, Canada director at Human Rights Watch.
She added that Canada’s stance has not changed despite the nearly two-month-long military campaign in Gaza, where bombs have struck hospitals, refugee camps and schools serving as shelters. More than 15,200 Palestinians have been killed.
“What we’ve seen with respect to Canada’s policy on Israel-Palestine is really a lack of coherence, confusion, and essentially not really engaging with the reality on the ground,” she told Al Jazeera. “And the reality on the ground that we’ve seen – that Palestinian organisations, Israeli organisations, international organisations have documented – is the reality of apartheid and persecution.”
So what drives Canada’s position?
Al Jazeera spoke to nearly a dozen human rights advocates, politicians, former officials and other experts about how foreign and domestic calculations influence Ottawa’s stance – and whether public outrage could shift its strategy.
Maghazi refugee camp, Gaza Strip – As Imtithal, a mother of six, stokes the wood fire she has built up to bake bread for her family, her thoughts take her back to her usual morning routine at home in the Tal al-Hawa neighbourhood in western Gaza, before the relentless Israeli bombardment began on the enclave on October 7.
Imtithal and her family were forced to flee to the Maghazi camp in the centre of the Gaza Strip after Israeli forces ordered civilians to evacuate northern Gaza and move south in the early days of the war. She and her family could see that there was a grave danger that the Israeli bombing could wipe out entire areas in north and west Gaza.
She is thankful that they did. Soon after they left, their house was badly damaged in a bombing on their neighbourhood.
“My house was severely damaged due to a violent Israeli bombing next to it,” Imtithal says. “Our neighbour, Saleem, who works for the Palestinian Red Crescent Society, sent me videos showing the extent of the destruction that befell my house. I feel very sad and do not know whether it is fit for habitation after today or not.”
To cope with the worry, Imtithal takes comfort in the memories of her safe, normal routine before the war began. She would wake up at dawn for Fajr prayers. Then, she would wake her younger children, Hammoud, 13, and Nour, 16, to get ready for school.
“I always enjoyed making their breakfast and lunch boxes. I would make sure I put their favourite foods in there,” she remembers.
The morning’s work would be far from over yet.
A small amount of ‘me time’
“Then, it’s time for my husband and older sons to go to work,” she says. “I make their coffee, but my daughter, Aseel, likes fresh juice, so I make that too while we talk about my plans for the day.”
Once they were all fed, ready to go and, finally, out of the door, it would be Imtithal’s “me time”.
“I go to the gym and spend about two hours exercising with my friends,” she says. After that, she would go home to drink something hot with her neighbour, Sarah.
Next, Imtithal says, she prepares lunch, spends a bit of time reading books on the sciences of the Quran, and logs on for her religious lessons through an academy that she joins via Zoom.
Finally, it would be time for the familiar family chaos to begin again.
“After my children return from their schools and work, I spend quality time with them, listening to their stories, following up on schoolwork with my son, Hammoud, and then preparing him to go to the boxing club, which he enjoys spending time in.”
Imtithal used to call her son Adham, who lives in the United States, every day to check in on him as well. But, since the bombing began, she has been unable to communicate with him much. Israel’s blockade on fuel means electricity and the internet have been severely restricted – often non-existent – in the Gaza Strip. She has barely managed a few minutes with him on the phone every few days.
‘I couldn’t even say goodbye’
Once such a normal, sometimes even mundane, part of her day, these are the things Imtithal says she longs for now.
“I miss being at home and quietly practising my simple daily routine.
“Daily household tasks were not as arduous as they are today. Now, I wash the laundry in buckets with very small amounts of water when I used to use an automatic washing machine. I also struggle to prepare food due to the lack of cooking gas, so we resort to cooking food over a wood fire now.”
Imtithal adds: “The situation in Gaza is tragic. I cannot communicate with my sisters, nor can I visit them. I used to go out for walks with them constantly. Even the entertainment places we used to go have all been bombed.”
Imtithal worries terribly about the family and friends she has been separated from in her community.
Israeli planes bombed her cousin’s house, killing her. She says: “I couldn’t even say goodbye to her! I can’t leave the refugee house I’m in. Her family couldn’t even hold a funeral for her, and they told me that they took her to bury her using their own car.”
She also worries greatly about the toll this war is taking on her family.
“Everything is exhausting us. What is happening in Gaza is genocide. I miss the spirit of my young son. I am keen to take care of his mental health due to the harsh situation in the Gaza Strip. I find him sitting alone a lot, so I try to make him relax and listen to everything that is on his mind and try to reassure him.”
(This account was written by Imtithal’s daughter, Aseel.)
Seoul, South Korea – Most mornings, Eun Seo-Ran begins her day at around 7am by brewing tea for herself and her adopted daughter Lee Eo-Rie*. After a cup of black or herbal tea the two work in separate rooms – Seo-Ran as an essayist, while Eo-Rie studies for an exam. Around noon, they cook lunch, then sit down to eat and watch their favourite comedy series. Soon, the sound of them giggling fills the living room of their three-bedroom apartment. Outside, green cabbage fields stretch for miles.
In the evening, the two eat dinner, and then do the household chores. On clear nights, the silhouette of a mountain gleams in the distance as they practise yoga before bed, chatting about friends and work, and winding up another day in their quiet lives.
“Our lives have become inseparable over the years … Eo-Rie probably knows me better than anyone else in the world,” says Seo-Ran, a slight, soft-spoken woman, from their home in the southwestern region of Jeolla.
Despite being her adopted daughter, Eo-Rie is 38 – just five years younger than 43-year-old Seo-Ran. The women have been best friends and roommates for seven years. Last May, Seo-Ran adopted Eo-Rie in a desperate bid to become family under South Korea’s strict family law. By law, only those related by blood, marriage between a man and a woman, and adoption are recognised as family.
Strict gender roles and patriarchal family culture remain deeply ingrained in South Korea. But in recent years, more South Koreans have started to challenge these norms. They are increasingly pushing the government to accept a broader range of companionships as family, such as unmarried couples or friends living together, and demanding rights and services available to conventional family units. Women are often at the forefront of this push with a growing number of so-called “no-marriage women” choosing to stay single, defying the traditional pressure to marry, and look after a family.
The story of how Seo-Ran and Eo-Rie became family represents this desire to challenge—and reimagine—what it means to be family in South Korea.
From a young age, Seo-Ran knew she did not want to get married [Photo courtesy of Eun Seo-Ran]
‘My mum toiled for decades’
Seo-Ran grew up near Seoul in a middle-class family with a working father, a stay-at-home mother and an older brother – a nuclear household that by then had replaced the traditional multi-generational home. But despite the rapid shift in family structure, customs embedded within it changed more slowly.
Women were still largely expected to quit their jobs upon marriage and become lifelong caregivers for their in-laws. Placed at the bottom of the pecking order in their husbands’ families, they were usually relegated to the kitchen during family gatherings, including ancient rituals to honour dead ancestors. Called “jesa” or “charye”, the ritual is observed during the Chuseok harvest festival, the Lunar New Year and on dead relatives’ birthdays and women are expected to prepare food for days. The custom is so resented by many women that the number of divorces rises after every traditional holiday.
“My mum toiled for decades to serve my father’s family, including making countless jesa preparations each year. But my father is a very patriarchal person, and never showed any gratitude for what she did for his family,” Seo-Ran reflects.
“Having watched all of this, I’ve never had a fantasy about marriage – or having the so-called ‘normal family’,” she explains. Her mother, hoping Seo-Ran would live differently, wouldn’t even let her into the kitchen while she was growing up.
“Don’t live like me,” she would say.
Over time, some traditions diminished – but many remain. Today, women in double-income families spend three times more hours each day on childcare and household chores than men. In fact, even women who are breadwinners still spend more time on chores than their stay-at-home husbands.
South Koreans showcase “charye”, a traditional ritual service of food and offerings to thank their ancestors ahead of the Lunar New Year’s Day holidays at a traditional village in Seoul. Women are traditionally expected to cook for days for such rituals [File: Kim Jae-Hwan/AFP]
‘Why aren’t you married yet?’
From a young age, Seo-Ran knew she wanted to remain single in a society where many still see dating as a prelude to marriage and having children.
“Plus, I’m a very freewheeling person. I have wanderlust, I love to travel spontaneously, and I don’t like children,” she says shrugging. “I thought marrying would be an irresponsible thing to do for someone like me.”
After graduating from college, Seo-Ran picked up office work as she moved across the country – from the southern island of Jeju to a far-flung mountainous village – wanting to be closer to nature, and away from air pollution that exacerbated the chronic eczema she’d had since childhood. But she never felt she belonged.
“An unmarried woman living alone in a small village attracts endless gossip, matchmaking offers she never asked for, and unwanted sexual advances,” she explains, rolling her eyes.
Once, a drunken landlord tried to break into her house in the middle of the night – just one of several break-in attempts she experienced. In a country where many single people live with their parents, young women living alone are often vulnerable, stereotyped as being sexually available and 11 times more likely than men to experience break-ins.
On countless occasions, village elders asked Seo-Ran if she was married – and berated her for “going against the nature of the world” by remaining single. Many urged her to marry their sons or men living in the area. “‘Where is your husband? Where are your children? Why aren’t you married yet?’” her neighbours would ask her.
Fed up and exhausted, in 2016 Seo-Ran moved again, this time settling in the rural county of Jeolla with a population in the tens of thousands, which gave her a sense of anonymity. Soon after, she discovered that another woman was living alone next door.
That was Eo-Rie, who had also moved to Jeolla to escape city life. With plenty in common, including a love of plants, vegetarian cooking and DIY, and finding solidarity in their decision to remain single, the two quickly grew close.
Soon, they were sharing dinner every night. A year later, Eo-Rie moved in with Seo-Ran.
Seo-Ran bonded with Eo-Rie over shared interests and views including finding the traditional family unit to be oppressive [Image courtesy of Eun Seo-Ran]
‘A real family’
The decision was partly for protection as Seo-Ran felt unsafe on her own – two women living together would attract far less unwanted attention.
“But more than anything else … Eo-Rie and I talked a lot about how to live well and happily in old age, and concluded that living with a like-minded friend would be one of the best ways to do so,” Seo-Ran explains.
It took months to find the right balance. Eo-Rie, who likes to cook, found it tiring to cook for two, while Seo-Ran admits she is “a bit obsessed” with cleanliness – she showers as soon as she gets home – due to her skin condition. They decided that Eo-Rie would cook less and follow Seo-Ran’s shower habit.
Their different personalities – Seo-Ran is sensitive but outspoken while Eo-Rie is more easy-going and nonchalant – complement each other well, Seo-Ran says.
“Eo-Rie accepted my hyper-sensitiveness with ease, and even joked once, ‘I feel like I have a high-end home cleaner’,” she says, laughing.
Their home life became “joyful, peaceful, and comforting”.
“I came to believe that a real family is those who share their lives while respecting and being loyal to each other, whether or not they are related by blood or marriage,” says Seo-Ran.
A few years later, with the arrangement working so well, they decided to buy their apartment together. But then, after Seo-Ran, who suffers from other health problems like chronic headaches, was rushed to the ER several times, they started talking about how if they were family they could sign medical consent forms for one another. South Korean hospitals, fearing legal action should something go wrong, customarily refuse to offer urgent care – including surgery – unless a patient’s legal family gives consent.
“We have helped and protected one another for years. But we were nothing but strangers when we needed each other most,” Seo-Ran explains.
Seo-Ran speaks at a book event [Image courtesy of Eun Seo-Ran]
Legal loophole
So the two started looking into family law to see what was possible.
Marriage was out of the question. “We are not romantically involved or trying to get married. And even if we are, we wouldn’t be able to marry since same-sex marriage is not legal in South Korea,” Seo-Ran explains.
“So the only way left for us was this strange option of me adopting Eo-Rie,” she says, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
Under South Korean law, an adult can easily adopt a younger adult with both parties’ consent—an arrangement usually used by those marrying someone with adult children or among conservative families with no sons who adopt males within the extended family to continue “the family line”.
“What we wanted was simple things – to take care of each other, like signing medical consent [forms], taking family-care leave from work when one of us is ill, or organising a funeral when one of us dies later,” Seo-Ran says, sighing. “But none of that is possible in South Korea unless we are a legal family. So, we decided to take advantage of this legal loophole, however strange it may look.”
Some one million Koreans in a country of 50 million lived with de facto family – friends or partners – as of 2021, but they cannot access affordable state-subsidised apartments or housing loans, shared medical insurance, tax benefits and other services available to married couples and families.
If a living companion dies, bereaved partners or friends are left with few rights – they are more vulnerable to eviction if they do not own the property and can face myriad legal hurdles to receive inheritance.
In 2013, a 62-year-old woman who lost her flatmate of 40 years to cancer jumped to her death after leaving her home during an inheritance dispute with her flatmate’s family.
Although both Seo-Ran and Eo-Rie’s families have accepted their lifestyle, and the women jointly own their home, they wanted equal legal protection and rights.
On May 25, 2022, the two walked into a local administrative office, their hands clasped together, and filed adoption papers. The next day, they officially became mother and daughter.
“In South Korea, May is full of celebrations for families, like Children’s Day [May 5] or Parents’ Day [May 8], so we chose May to have a celebration of our own,” says Seo-Ran with a mischievous grin.
Gwak Mi-Ji, who hosts a podcast called Behonsé, at home with her rescue dog Jeong-Won [Hawon Jung/Al Jazeera]
Behonsé
Seo-Ran’s story – which she chronicled in her 2023 memoir, I Adopted A Friend – is the country’s first publicly known case of an adult adopting a friend to become family.
But the number of South Koreans exploring – and endorsing – lifestyles outside the conventional family unit is growing. The number of one-person households and those comprised of legally unrelated people hit a record high of nearly eight million last year or more than 35 percent of all households.
Gwak Min-Ji, an outgoing, friendly television writer in Seoul, is one such “no-marriage” woman. Nearly every week, the 38-year-old records her podcast, Behonsé, from her dining table.
Min-Ji began her podcast—based on the Korean words “bihon (no marriage, or, willingly unmarried)” and “sesang (world)” with a nod to Beyonce and her song, Single Ladies – from her living room in 2020, bored with isolation during the pandemic and hoping to reach out to other women like her.
“We’re still a minority significantly underrepresented on television and in the media. My goal was making us more visible by sharing the stories of our everyday life,” says Min-Ji in her cosy, two-bedroom apartment in the trendy neighbourhood of Haebangchon. “In a world that seems to scream that getting married is the only right answer, and that it’s unseemly to be a single woman unless you’re rich and successful, I wanted to show that there are many single women out there living mundane, ordinary lives—and that it’s perfectly okay!”
The podcast covers a wide range of topics from books, relationships and mental health to how to survive holidays with prying relatives, and the best single-women-friendly neighbourhoods. Min-Ji has interviewed single women of all ages and from all walks of life.
“Not all my listeners are against the idea of marriage. Some of them are in a relationship, and some listen to my podcast with their boyfriends,” Min-Ji says. But the excessive dual burden on working mothers and the relentless social stigma on divorcees, “forces many women to give up on marrying”, she adds.
Min-Ji’s podcast draws more than 50,000 listeners every week. Some have formed their own clubs via mobile chat groups. When Min-Ji organised a talk show event in January, the 200-odd tickets sold out within seconds.
“It felt as though everyone was so hungry for a chance to find each other,” Min-Ji says cheerfully as she shows me around her apartment. Her bedroom wall is plastered with photos and postcards from her travels to Europe and her refrigerator is covered with letters from friends and fans.
“My podcast has become a platform where no-marriage women can connect with others like them and do things together,” explains Min-Ji, stroking the head of her only full-time companion – a small rescue dog – sitting next to her on a sofa.
Yong Hye-In submits her proposed bill to widen the definition of family in parliament [Courtesy of the Basic Income Party]
‘The right to not be lonely’
But, like Seo-Ran, Min-Ji and her single friends face a key question: Who will care for them when they grow old or get sick?
“It’s one of the hottest topics among us,” Min-Ji says. “We’re seriously discussing where and how to buy houses together, or how to take care of each other when we fall sick.”
For now, they have created a “breakfast roll-call” group on the messaging app KakaoTalk where they check in every morning and visit those who fail to respond for two days in a row. But ultimately, Min-Ji and some of her friends are considering living together.
These considerations have a far-reaching implication in a country facing what many call a ticking time bomb: South Korea’s population is ageing faster than any other country’s, while its birthrate is at the world’s lowest level (0.78 as of 2022). By 2050, more than 40 percent of the population is projected to be older than 65, and by 2070, nearly half of the population will be elderly.
South Korea faces the major policy challenge of how to care for its elderly population, especially as the number of people living on their own grows.
In April, Yong Hye-In, a rookie South Korean lawmaker took what she described as a key step towards addressing the care crisis by proposing a law that would widen the legal definition of family.
“Many South Koreans are already living beyond the traditional boundaries of family,” explained Yong, a bespectacled 33-year-old lawmaker with the left-wing, minor Basic Income Party. “But our laws have failed to support their way of life.”
Yong, a minority in the parliament – women account for just 19 percent of the 300 seats, and the average age is about 55 – has made a name for herself as a vocal supporter of the rights of women, children, working-class people, and other politically underrepresented groups.
Promoted under the slogan “the right to not be lonely”, the law would benefit friends or couples living together including oft-neglected elderly people who are divorced, widowed, or estranged from their children, and people who live alone, Yong told me from her office in Seoul.
“As our society rapidly ages and more people live alone, so many members of our society are living in isolation and loneliness, or are at the risk of doing so,” Yong explained. “We should allow them to share their life and form solidarity with other citizens … and help them take care of each other.”
Her proposal resonated with many as the country faces the growing problem of “lonely death”, where people’s bodies remain undiscovered for a long time after they have died. South Korea recorded nearly 3,400 lonely deaths, or “godoksa”, in 2021, a 40 percent rise in five years. The vast majority of them were men in their 50s and 60s.
After Yoon Suk-Yeol of the right-wing People Power Party won the presidential election last March, the country’s gender equality ministry abruptly cancelled plans to recognise a wider range of companionships [File: SeongJoon Cho/Bloomberg]
Conservative backlash
But Yong’s bill drew a storm of protest from conservatives and evangelical church groups with enormous political lobbying power who accused it of “promoting homosexuality” by potentially giving gay couples similar status as heterosexual couples, thus, they said, effectively allowing same-sex marriage.
Yong received hundreds of angry calls and messages.
The “evil bill” will “destroy” the institution of marriage and family and ruin the lives of children by allowing same-sex marriage and encouraging births out of wedlock, some 500 conservative groups said in a joint statement.
“Apart from same-sex marriage, it’s hard to understand why people who live together demand the same legal protection as normal families,” a Christian Council of Korea (CCK) spokesman who requested not to be named told me. “If you are sick and need medical treatment, your real family should come right away and sign [the medical consent form], no matter how far they live. Why should anyone else do the job?”
Yong’s bill faces an uncertain future, ignored by most lawmakers and publicly rejected by the ruling right-wing government, which is backed by many evangelical church groups.
Min-Ji and Seo-Ran, both vocal supporters of Yong’s bill, have faced public criticism for their lifestyles. Interviews Min-Ji has given have drawn a torrent of online abuse from those who said she was not pretty enough to get married anyway, or swore she would face a lonely death. Others say her “selfish” lifestyle “disrespected” married people—an accusation Seo-Ran also faced after publishing her book in July.
Min-Ji, in red, speaks during an event with listeners of her podcast in Daejeon in October 2023 [Courtesy of Park Hye-Jeong]
A feminist healthcare cooperative
With legislative and government efforts to address loneliness and the lack of care largely stalled, some women have begun taking matters into their own hands.
Salim, a grassroots social and healthcare cooperative founded by dozens of feminists in Seoul in 2012, is one of them.
Salim’s collection of clinics is located in a high-rise building in the northern district of Eunpyeong, one of the most diverse yet rapidly ageing areas of Seoul where one in five residents is elderly.
“You don’t feel like a patient here, but part of a close-knit community,” Kim Ye-Jin, 31, a former television producer and cooperative member, explains.
Feminist doctors and activists – many of them no-marriage women – began the community to allow people to “grow old together by caring for one another,” according to Salim co-founder Choo Hye-In.
Salim, which means “saving” in Korean, is open to anyone for a minimum fee of 50,000 won ($39). It began with some 300 members and a small family medicine clinic headed by Choo, herself a doctor and no-marriage woman. But over a decade, it gained a reputation as a place welcoming not only women and Eunpyeong residents but also people with disabilities, victims of sexual assault or domestic abuse, sexual minorities, and migrant workers who may be shunned by clinics or not properly treated due to a language barrier or lack of insurance. Today, it counts nearly 4,200 members and has grown to include gynaecological, psychiatric and dental clinics, as well as a daycare centre for elderly people.
It’s the kind of “community of people who could protect you when you’re sick and lonely,” Ye-Jin explains, adding that Salim is one of the main reasons she and her friends want to grow old in the district.
Eunpyeong is home to many NGOs, women’s rights groups, and social enterprises and has been endorsed by Min-Ji’s podcast as one of the best neighbourhoods for single women due to its vibrant community.
Outside, Ye-Jin weaves past office workers, mothers with prams, middle-aged women with dog strollers and elderly men on walkers as she heads to a bakery, popular among her friends, where a selection of books about ageing and community-based care sits next to piles of croissants.
Ye-Jin is an active part of the local community, having founded Eunpyeong Sisters, a club for unmarried women, whose dozens of members get together to play sports or share meals while chatting constantly on mobile groups about everything from stock investment to women-friendly pubs.
“My hope was building a loosely connected community where women can feel safe, supported, and respected, while having fun doing activities each of us can’t do alone,” she says.
People walk through the seafood area of Jungang Market in Gangneung in eastern South Korea. By 2050, more than 40 percent of the country’s population is projected to be older than 65 [File: Carl Court/Getty Images]
Snapshots of the future
Social experiments like Salim and smaller, casual groups like Eunpyeong Sisters based on solidarity and mutual support can reveal how to tackle loneliness and isolation as society changes and people live for longer, said Jee Eun-Sook, a researcher at the Institute of Cross-Cultural Studies at Seoul National University who studies the lives of unmarried women and networks like Salim.
“That’s why the government needs to pay more attention to what these women do. Their efforts might show snapshots of the future to come—and potential solutions to solve the challenges that lie ahead,” she said.
Whether such efforts will remain experiments or lead to real change remains to be seen. But Seo-Ran is upbeat, saying changes are already afoot among many ordinary South Koreans. She says she shared her story to help people like her who don’t want to marry but might want to know how to form a family. After her book was published, many single women living with friends wrote to say they were considering a similar move while others thanked her for showing they were not alone.
“I hope that my story serves as a wake-up call for the government and our society,” says Seo-Ran.
Around Seo-Ran and Eo-Rie’s first family anniversary, the women took a weekend trip to Anmyeondo Island, known for its scenic beaches dotted with pine tree forests, with Seo-Ran’s mother and grandaunt—a holiday for, at least on paper, four generations of women.
For a long time, Seo-Ran’s mother wanted her daughter to marry, worried she’d be left alone after she died. But now she says she’s relieved that Seo-Ran is happy and has formed her own family. “Now, I have a granddaughter,” she jokes.
“You two don’t need to care at all about what the world and others say,” she told her daughter. “Just live your life fully.”
For more than a month, protests against Central America’s largest open-pit copper mine have held Panama in a state of siege. Roadblocks have caused gas and propane shortages. Many supermarket shelves have run bare. Restaurants and hotels have sat empty.
But on Tuesday, protesters in Panama got the news they were waiting for.
The country’s Supreme Court of Justice ruled that Panama’s new mining contract with the Canadian company First Quantum was unconstitutional.
Protesters danced in the streets in front of the Supreme Court. They waved the red, white and blue Panamanian flag and sang the national anthem.
The ruling, a big blow for investors and for the country’s long-term credit rating, is, for the moment, a source of relief for Panama, which has been shaken by the country’s largest protest movement to plague the country in decades.
The news of the Supreme Court ruling came early on Tuesday – the day of the anniversary of Panama’s Independence from Spain.
“Today, we are celebrating two independences,” 58-year-old restaurant worker Nestor Gonzalez told Al Jazeera. “Independence from Spain. And independence from the mine. And no one is going to forget it.”
People turned out to celebrate. The bistro where Gonzalez works, in the western province of Chiriqui, was packed with patrons by noon – something the restaurant had not seen since mid-October.
“We are so happy,” said Gonzalez. “Because, we had been locked up in the province of Chiriqui for 35 days, without gas, without propane, and with little food. I had to go look for firewood in the mountains because I had no propane to cook with. So thank God that the justices took a stand and issued this ruling.”
The mine, known as Cobre Panama, has been in production since 2019, and extracting 300,000 tonnes of copper a year. It represents roughly five percent of the country’s gross domestic product (GDP) and 75 percent of Panamanian exports. The mining sector contributes roughly seven percent of Panama’s GDP with Cobre Panama as the country’s most important mine.
But protesters said Cobre Panama was a disaster for the country’s environment and a handout to a foreign corporation.
“I’m protesting because they are stealing our country. They are just handing it over,” said Ramon Rodriguez, a protester in a yellow raincoat in a march in late October, after protests ignited against the mine. “The sovereignty of our country is in danger. That’s why I’m here.”
This question of sovereignty is particularly important for Panamanians, who fought throughout the 20th century to rid the country of the United States-controlled Panama Canal Zone. This was an area almost half the size of the US state of Rhode Island that sliced through the middle of Panama.
“This contract is bad. It never should have been made. Never. So you have to fight,” said Miriam Caballero, a middle-aged woman in a grey sweatshirt who watched the October protest pass.
Protesters said Cobre Panama was a disaster for the country’s environment and a handout to the Canadian firm that had the mining contract [Michael Fox/Al Jazeera]
Impact on foreign investment
This was not the first contract with the mine. In 2021, the Supreme Court declared the previous contract unconstitutional for not adequately benefitting the public good. The government of President Laurentino Cortizo renegotiated the contract with improved benefits for the state. This was fast-tracked through Congress on October 20. Cortizo signed it into law hours later.
The president and his cabinet had applauded the new contract, saying it would bring windfall profits for the state.
“The contract ensures a minimum payment to the state of $375m dollars a year, for the next 20 years,” said Commerce Minister Federico Alfaro told Panama news outlet Telemetro. “If you can compare this with what the state was receiving before, which was $35m a year, it’s a substantial improvement to the past.”
Cortizo promised to use the funds to shore up the country’s Social Security Fund and increase pensions for more than 120,000 retirees.
After the protests spiralled out of control, he announced a moratorium on all new mining projects and promised to hold a referendum over the fate of Cobre Panama. The idea didn’t gain traction. The protesters wouldn’t budge.
Members of Panama’s business sector have blamed Cortizo for mishandling the crisis and refusing to use a heavy hand to end the roadblocks and stop the protests. Last week, they said it had cost the country $1.7bn.
Cortizo, whose approval rating was already down to 24 percent in June, responded to this week’s court ruling stating, “All Panamanians need to respect and abide by the decisions of the Supreme Court.”
Analysts say the protests and the ruling will have an impact for foreign companies looking to do business in Panama.
“I believe this court ruling is sending a very clear message to foreign investors,” Jorge Cuéllar, Assistant Professor of Latin American Studies at Dartmouth College, told Al Jazeera. “If this is the kind of foreign investment that politicians and capitalists are innovating in 2023, then Panamanians want no part of it.”
But this stance will likely come at a price.
In early November, after more than a week of protests, rating agency Moody’s downgraded Panama’s debt to the lowest investment-grade rating. It cited financial issues and noted the political turmoil. JP Morgan analysts said, at the time, that if the mining contract were revoked, it would substantially increase Panama’s risk of losing its investment-grade rating.
First Quantum also has much to lose. Its shares have lost 60 percent of their value over the last month and a half. More than 40 percent of the company’s production comes from the Panamanian mine.
Over the weekend, the company notified Panama that it planned to take the country to arbitration under the Free Trade Agreement between the two countries.
But in a statement released after the ruling, First Quantum said, “The Company wishes to express that it respects Panamanian laws and will review the content of the judgement to understand its foundations.”
Protesters said the country’s sovereignty was at stake [Michael Fox/Al Jazeera]
‘Jobs at risk’
The announcement is also a blow for the employees of the mine. The mine employs roughly 6,600 people – 86 percent of whom are Panamanian – and a total 40,000 direct and indirect jobs.
The Union of Panamanian Mine Workers, Utramipa, announced its members would march in several cities on Wednesday against the Supreme Court decision and in defence of their jobs.
“We are not going to allow them to put our jobs at risk, which are our means for supporting our families,” the union said in a statement.
Last week, Utramipa member Michael Camacho, denounced the protests on the news outlet Panamá En Directo. Operations at the mine were suspended last week due to protests at its port and the highway in and out of the facility.
“What about us, the workers? We are also Panamanians. We have the right to go to our homes and return to our place of work,” said Camacho. “But at this moment, we are being held hostage by the protesters, by the anti-social, the terrorists – which is what we should call them – and the people that stop us from passing.”
For the majority of Panamanians, the Supreme Court ruling is a welcomed sign that the country is on the road to normalcy.
Protesters in some provinces have promised to stay in the streets until the Supreme Court ruling is officially published – which usually takes a few days – or until the mine is closed for good. But many roadblocks have now been cleared, highways that stood empty for weeks are now open, and gas stations are rolling back in business.
“We are in a new phase,” Harry Brown Araúz, the director of Panama’s International Center of Social and Political Studies, told Al Jazeera. “The protests, as we have seen until now, should be lifted. And the government has said that it will begin the process of closing the mine in an orderly manner. This can generate confidence in the population, which had been lost.”
Araúz says the protest movement and the ruling are a powerful sign of the strength of Panama’s democracy, which the country regained just over 30 years ago.
“This is a really important moment,” he says. “It marks a before and after for Panamanian democracy.”
“We are at war. Not an operation, not a round [of fighting], at war,” Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu declared to his fellow Israelis on October 7, following a surprise attack by the Palestinian armed group Hamas that killed an estimated 1,200 people in Israel.
Within hours, the United States, Israel’s closest ally, condemned the attacks as “unconscionable”. President Joe Biden affirmed, “Israel has the right to defend itself,” echoing sentiments from Israel’s allies worldwide.
Over the next seven weeks, Israel went on to drop more than 40,000 tonnes of explosives on Gaza, killing more than 15,000 people, including at least 6,150 children, and levelled entire neighbourhoods.
Following several failed resolutions at the United Nations and a flurry of diplomatic efforts, a four-day Gaza truce, agreed upon by Hamas and Israel, finally took effect on November 24 and was later extended for an additional three days.
[Al Jazeera]
As the war continues on the ground, a parallel battle is being waged through the exchange of words on the world stage.
To understand how language is shaping the current war, Al Jazeera examined all the speeches and statements given by 118 United Nations member states at all the UN Security Council (UNSC) and General Assembly (UNGA) sessions between October 7 and November 15.
In addition to the UN statements, we analysed hundreds of speeches and statements given by the leaders of Israel and Palestine, five permanent members of the UNSC — the US, UK, France, China and Russia, as well as eight regional players, namely Egypt, Iran, Jordan, Lebanon, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Turkey.
Pause vs ceasefire – who said what?
Many countries have called for an immediate and comprehensive ceasefire, ending all hostilities, while Israel’s allies have only called for a pause in fighting.
Those avoiding the call for a “ceasefire” echo Israel’s sentiment that Hamas should not be given any respite in fighting and the war should only end after the armed group’s complete destruction. Many of these countries have called for peace or political resolution, but have fallen short of using the term “ceasefire”.
A ceasefire is largely defined as a “cessation of all acts of violence against the civilian population”.
While there is no universal definition of what a ceasefire entails, it typically includes a formal agreement to end the fighting and lays out a political process to de-escalate the conflict, such as withdrawing weapons or repositioning forces.
A humanitarian pause, on the other hand, is defined as a “temporary cessation of hostilities purely for humanitarian purposes”.
A pause or truce is a temporary halt to fighting for an agreed-upon period.
Our analysis found that the majority of countries (55 percent) specifically called for a “ceasefire” in Gaza while 23 percent of nations underscored the importance of a temporary halt in hostilities. The remaining 22 percent did not explicitly endorse either option.
[Al Jazeera]
The majority of countries calling for a pause are European states as well as the US and Canada.
The Biden administration has called for “humanitarian pauses” in the war while firmly rejecting demands for a ceasefire, at least until Israel achieves its stated goal of eliminating Hamas.
The majority calling for a ceasefire are those in the Global South, with the exception of a handful of European states, most notably France, Ireland, Russia and Spain.
France has urged setting up a humanitarian truce which could lead eventually to a ceasefire.
For Palestinians in Gaza like Tala Herzallah, a 21-year-old student at the Islamic University of Gaza, the role of the international community and organisations like the UN in helping end the war has been close to “zero”.
“All international laws are being violated, and no one says anything. It’s all just ink on paper,” she told Al Jazeera.
People are being bombed in hospitals, in schools. But all they do is condemn. Our blood is cheap
by Tala Herzallah – student in Gaza
Moreover, like many Palestinians, Herzallah stressed that the conflict with Israel extends far beyond the tragic events of October 7.
“We (Gaza) have been under siege for more than 16 years, with pain, poverty and unemployment. Bombed every now and then.”
We use cookies on our website to give you the most relevant experience by remembering your preferences and repeat visits. By clicking “Accept”, you consent to the use of ALL the cookies.
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. These cookies ensure basic functionalities and security features of the website, anonymously.
Cookie
Duration
Description
cookielawinfo-checkbox-analytics
11 months
This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Analytics".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-functional
11 months
The cookie is set by GDPR cookie consent to record the user consent for the cookies in the category "Functional".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-necessary
11 months
This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookies is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Necessary".
cookielawinfo-checkbox-others
11 months
This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Other.
cookielawinfo-checkbox-performance
11 months
This cookie is set by GDPR Cookie Consent plugin. The cookie is used to store the user consent for the cookies in the category "Performance".
viewed_cookie_policy
11 months
The cookie is set by the GDPR Cookie Consent plugin and is used to store whether or not user has consented to the use of cookies. It does not store any personal data.
Functional cookies help to perform certain functionalities like sharing the content of the website on social media platforms, collect feedbacks, and other third-party features.
Performance cookies are used to understand and analyze the key performance indexes of the website which helps in delivering a better user experience for the visitors.
Analytical cookies are used to understand how visitors interact with the website. These cookies help provide information on metrics the number of visitors, bounce rate, traffic source, etc.
Advertisement cookies are used to provide visitors with relevant ads and marketing campaigns. These cookies track visitors across websites and collect information to provide customized ads.
