Latin America & Caribbean – CISS https://ciss.eu Young Initiative on Foreign Affairs and International Relations (CISS) Sat, 02 Apr 2022 16:49:11 +0000 en-GB hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=5.8.9 wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/cropped-android-chrome-512x512-2-32x32.png Latin America & Caribbean – CISS https://ciss.eu 32 32 Why does the South American lithium triangle export lithium as a raw material? 2022/04/02/why-does-the-south-american-lithium-triangle-export-lithium-as-a-raw-material/ Sat, 02 Apr 2022 16:49:11 +0000 ?p=15821 We are currently experiencing the breakthrough of electromobility which increases the global lithium demand. The largest lithium deposits of the world are in the South American lithium triangle, the border region between Argentina, Chile and Bolivia (U.S. Geological Survey, 2021, p.99). Here, lithium mining has a negative impact on the environment, because the salt flats are sensitive ecosystems in one of the driest areas in the world and some lithium companies broke environmental legislation by pumping more water from the salt flats than allowed (Argento, Puente & Slipak, 2017, p.425; Reveco, Slipak, 2019. p.111). On the other hand, the large lithium deposits triggered optimism, as they offered an opportunity to process lithium locally into industrial goods such as lithium batteries. For centuries, the profits of Latin American commodity exports have remained with foreign corporations and a small local elite, while the rest of the population mainly experienced the disadvantages of the raw material export model. Lithium seemed to offer the chance to change from a supplier of raw materials to a manufacturer of high-tech products. However, the hope for local industrialization was not fulfilled and the lithium triangle (so far) exports lithium exclusively as a raw material (López, et. al, 2019, p.140). This article explains, why the lithium triangle exports lithium as a primary good without processing it locally into battery components, cathodes or lithium batteries.

The first reason why the lithium triangle does not produce battery components on an industrial scale is a lack of consensus and motives among political leaders and the economic elite. On the one hand, there is no political consensus that local industrialization is a desirable goal for South America (Zicari, 2015, p.106). On the other hand, large interests benefit from the current raw material export model and defend it.

The second reason is the unrealistic view that some politicians had of their country´s position in the lithium market. Media and politics repeatedly compared lithium with “white gold” or “21st century oil” and thus created illusion and false hopes (López, et. al., 2019, p.138). In particular, the Bolivian government did not realistically assess its own position, the power of the transnational companies dominating the lithium market and the difficulty of establishing a new industrial sector in an economy without basic industry (Ströbele-Gregor, 2015, p.39). Moreover, there might be a limited time window to exploit lithium, as for the period after 2030, perhaps lithium will be largely replaced by battery recycling or by new battery technologies without lithium (Abergel, et. al, 2020, p. 25; Ali, Hancock & Ralph, 2018, p.558).

In addition, different management errors and poorly designed strategies have complicated local industrialization. There were disputes between the responsible actors, resistance from local populations, a lack of linkages between different teams of researchers and a lack of cooperation between the scientific system and the private sector (Reveco, Slipak, 2019, p.116; Fornillo, Gamba, 2019, p.143). Different attempts to form partnerships aiming at industrialization were announced, but failed without exception (Ali, Hancock & Ralph, 2018, p.554). The most famous failure was the partnership between the German company ACISA and the Bolivian state-owned firm YLB (Grupo de Estudios en Geopolítica y Bienes Comunes, 2019, p.33).

Furthermore, in Argentinia the legal framework does not favor industrialization, resulting in inter-local competition between the different regions with lithium deposits and in the fact that most of the surface area of the salt flats is already awardedto private companies (Reveco, Slipak, 2019, p.88). Additionally, competition instead of regional cooperation emerged between the three countries, Argentina, Bolivia and Chile. The political instability, various government changes and the very different responses of the three countries to the lithium question made regional cooperation extremely difficult. Due to the instability and the frequent changes of those responsible for lithium projects, the countries of the lithium triangle did not follow a clear strategy and every government change led to a new lithium policy (Argento, Puente & Slipak, 2017, p.406).

While regional integration of the lithium triangle is a distant vision, collaboration between the dominant companies is a fact. Bolivia had to admit that it does not have the technical-technological-human capacities and needs external help, but different attempts of technology transfer failed (Fornillo, 2016, p.81). Lithium technology is controlled and patented by transnational, listed companies, which are interlinked and cooperate with each other. The dominant companies are only interested in the raw material, oppose local industrialization, and, in general, refuse to process lithium in the lithium triangle. They are often vertically integrated with lithium demanders and make great efforts to hold their market shares. In this oligopolistic market there is a concentration within each link of the lithium value chain due to mergers and acquisitions, which complicates the entry of new players into the market (López, et. al, 2019, p.78).

Dominant companies and developed countries devote huge resources to battery development and manufacturing, so the lithium triangle cannot compete due to a lack of capital. The state strategies of the global north and the technological and commercial power of the dominant companies complicate the industrialization in the lithium triangle. A competition over lithium batteries and electromobility emerged between East Asia, Western Europe, and North America. The lithium triangle is not able to compete in this geo-economic battle and is forced to take the position of raw material supplier (Fornillo, Zicari, 2017, p.4).

One of the reasons for this is that the possession of lithium reserves is not the decisive criterion to produce batteries. The cost of energy is higher in the lithium triangle than in China, and since the production of lithium batteries is energy-intensive, the cost plays an important role. Lithium is not scarce, and batteries also require other materials that are not found in the lithium triangle (López, et. al, 2019, p.122). Many inputs such as cobalt, nickel, iron, phosphorus, bauxite, or graphite are missing. The main input of the lithium triangle for battery production would be lithium carbonate, plus Chilean copper, and Argentinean aluminum. This problem would only be solved by cooperating with Brazil, which possesses all the required battery materials that are missing in the lithium triangle, except cobalt (Australian Trade and Investment Commission, 2018, p. 20-27). However, this regional collaboration is not realistic, as not even the lithium triangle or at least the different Argentinian regions are cooperating. In addition, geography does not favor local industrialization. The long distance to Asia increases the cost of transporting batteries on cargo ships. Thus, the big suppliers of battery components follow a strategy of locating production close to the final demand, e.g. battery and electric vehicle factories (Ströbele-Gregor, 2015, p.4).

Concluding, the lithium triangle is facing the typical problems of (neo-) extractivism such as price volatility, dependence on demand from the global north, the dominance of developed countries in the value chain, lithium´s capital-intensive rather than labor-intensive character and South America´s asymmetric trade with Asia, Europe and the US. Other typical characteristics of extractivism that the lithium boom repeats include social conflicts, extraction in sensitive ecosystems, extractive territories isolated from the rest of the economy, the failure of regional cooperation and, finally, transnational corporations pushing the provinces and countries of the lithium triangle to compete with each other (Svampa, 2019, p.12/16/47/70/76). We saw that several challenges such as a lack of political consensus, unrealistic assumptions, management errors, political instability and missing regional cooperation complicated the local industrialization. Furthermore, the multinational corporations that dominate the lithium market opposed every single attempt to produce lithium batteries in South America. As a result, the lithium triangle exports lithium exclusively as a raw material and there is no local production of cathodes or batteries on an industrial scale. In the future, the new Chilean government of Gabriel Boric might address this unfavorable focus on commodity exports and push for a new Chilean lithium policy.

 

Bibliography

Abergel, T., et. al (2020) Global EV Outlook 2020. Entering the decade of electric drive?, Energy Technology Policy Division of the Directorate of Sustainability, Technology and Outlooks of the International Energy Agency, Paris.

Ali, S., Hancock, L. & Ralph, N. (2018) Bolivia´s lithium frontier: Can public private partnerships deliver a minerals boom for sustainable development?, Journal of Cleaner Production 178, Tennessee.

Argento, M., Puente, F. & Slipak, A. (2017) “Qué debates esconde la explotación del litio en el noroeste argentino? Perspectivas y proyecciones sobre la dinámica empresa-estadocomunidad”, in Alimonda, H., Martín, F. & Pérez, C. Ecología política latinoamericana. Pensamiento crítico, diferencia latinoamericana y rearticulación epistémica, CLACSO, Argentina.

Australian Trade and Investment Commission (2018) The lithium-ion battery value chain: new economy opportunities for Australia, Australia.

Fornillo, B. (2016) Sudamérica Futuro: China global, transición energética y posdesarrollo, El Colectivo, CLACSO, Argentina.

Fornillo, B., Gamba, M. (2019) “Política, ciencia y energía en el triángulo del litio”, in Fornillo, B. Litio en Sudamérica. Geopolítica, energía y territorios, El Colectivo, CLACSO, Argentina.

Fornillo, B., Zicari, J. (2017) The Power of Lithium in South America, Entreciencias: diálogos en la Sociedad del Conocimiento, vol.5, no.12, Mexico.

Grupo de Estudios en Geopolítica y Bienes Comunes (2019) Triángulo del litio. Un área de disputa estratégica entre potencias globales en nombre de la transición energética, Universidad de Buenos Aires, Argentina.

López, A., et. al (2019) Litio en la Argentina: Oportunidades y desafíos para el desarrollo de la cadena de valor, Banco Interamericano de Desarrollo, Argentina.

Reveco, S., Slipak, A. (2019) “Historias de la extracción, dinámicas jurídico-tributarias y el litio en los modelos de desarrollo de Argentina, Bolivia y Chile”, in Fornillo, B. Litio en Sudamérica. Geopolítica, energía y territorios, El Colectivo, CLACSO, Argentina.

Ströbele-Gregor, J. (2015) Desigualdades estructurales en el aprovechamiento de un recurso estratégico. La economía global del litio y el caso de Bolivia, desiguALdades.net Working Paper Series 79, Berlin.

Svampa, M. (2019) Las fronteras del neoextractivismo en América Latina. Conflictos socioambientales, giro ecoterritorial y nuevas dependencias, CALAS, Mexico.

U.S. Geological Survey (2021) Mineral commodity summaries 2021, U.S. Geological Survey 200, Virginia.

Zicari, J. (2015) “La producción minera de litio en América Latina y el ascenso económico de China y de Asia Oriental”, in Latorre, S., Martínez, A. Extractivismo y conflictividad. Nuevos actores y nuevos contextos en América Latina, Revista Economía, vol.67, nr.105, Ecuador.

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International Development Cooperation: Five Lessons Learned from the Peruvian NGO CooperAcción 2022/03/31/international-development-cooperation-five-lessons-learned-from-the-peruvian-ngo-cooperaccion/ Thu, 31 Mar 2022 18:24:47 +0000 ?p=15813 International development aid causes negative associations of neocolonialism and dependency theory to many scholars in the field of International Relations. To counteract theoretical pessimism, this article sheds light on a successful and replicable case of foreign aid implementation.

The Peruvian human rights organization CooperAcción has been creating local development alternatives to the depletion of natural resources in small communities in Amazon, Andes, and coastal regions for 25 years. In 2021, I managed CooperAcción’s project funding applications for international aid and will hereby use its institutional model to draw five lessons.

  1. CooperAcción has deep local roots. Field offices in the communities are run by local employees. Thereby, any agency is perceived as native and familiar by the communities who are motivated to participate in the projects. Given the absence of state institutions, community members actively approach CooperAcción to implement local development innovations. The “horticuy”, for instance, reduces child malnutrition through integrated breeding of guinea pigs and vegetables in a greenhouse environment in Andean highlands.
  2. The NGO balances its efforts to maintain local ties while keeping up with international standards. Imagine an Andean community which identifies domestic violence as a problem to be overcome. CooperAcción connects this local demand to the global sustainable development discourse, specifically to SDG 5 on gender equality. Due to this link the project qualifies to receive project funding from an international feminist foundation.
  3. Financial sustainability is guaranteed through diversification. The staff’s diverse backgrounds and abilities allow for lawyers to secure funds for the legal defense of activists, geographers for mapping conflicts and communication specialists for health campaigns in indigenous languages. CooperAcción actively broadens the spectrum of donors being governments, foundations, or multilateral organizations. Arab and East Asian donors are approached for distinct sources of income such as awards. A mixed portfolio ensures that short-term funding is available for immediate crises, long-term grants for sustainable change, core contributions for salaries and project-type contributions for field work.
  4. CooperAcción has built a strong network of support and makes use of the power of an organized civil society to set the public agenda. As member and founder of dozens of national and international groups, CooperAcción’s projects have high leverage. Human rights violations by Chinese companies in mines in the central highlands in Peru were brought forward to the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and campaigns on climate change have reached hundreds of thousands of citizens.
  5. CooperAcción strives for independence from political parties and the Peruvian state and thereby remained stable through economic crises and times of political instability. Accordingly, if a staff member assumes a political office their contract at CooperAcción remains dormant. In the publication format “CooperAcción Opina” authors voice criticism of any party or ideology.

Instead of belittling development initiatives, constructive models of cooperation should be shifted into public awareness. The case of CooperAcción demonstrates how international development aid can bring positive change on the ground. To be equally successful, implementing organizations should ensure deep local roots, a balance of local and international efforts, financial sustainability, a strong support network, and political independence.

For information on CooperAcción, see: cooperaccion.org.pe

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Call for Papers: Picturing the International Relations of the LAC Region 2021/11/20/call-for-papers-picturing-the-international-relations-of-the-lac-region/ Sat, 20 Nov 2021 12:31:04 +0000 ?p=15770 What role do Latin American Countries and Countries from the Caribbean (LAC) play on a World Stage? We are looking for analyses and articles from young scholars and researchers for our think tank shading light on the complex and interwoven international relations of the LAC region and countries.

  • How is the LAC region influenced by international politics and how does it shape them? How are LAC countries for example acting in international organizations such as the United Nations?
  • What goals do they envision for the sustainable development of our planet and what is their role in international development cooperation? What are their partners or traditional rivals?
  • What political or economic cooperation and agreements do you consider useful or rather destructive for the region or certain countries? How could for example the BRICS or international trade agreements like the envisioned EU-Mercosur agreement boost economic development or harm domestic production and product sovereignty? What could be their cultural implications?

If these questions or any other topic dealing with the international relations of the LAC region is of interest to you, we offer you the opportunity to publish your article on the CISS think tank.

Your article can touch on the whole LAC region but also deal with a specific country, an organization or certain societies and should critically engage with one specific research question. It should be about 1.500 words (analysis) or 500 words (opinion) long and be handed in in Microsoft Word format to CISS’s regional director for Latin America and the Caribbean Carlotta Schilling carlotta.schilling@ciss.eu. Articles are accepted on a rolling basis until January 31st. For the CISS guidelines see this flyer. Please also do not hesitate to contact us in case you have any further questions.

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Brazil’s World Cinema: How are co-productions impacting Brazilian cinema reaction? – Epilogue 2021/04/18/brazils-world-cinema-how-are-co-productions-impacting-brazilian-cinema-reaction-epilogue/ Sun, 18 Apr 2021 07:59:43 +0000 ?p=15608 Disclaimer

 

Epilogue

This article was written for the 2017-2018 LACalytics programme, during the post-impeachment time right after the parliamentary coup in Brazil. The following section will discuss some events that took place between 2018 and 2020 that show how the political landscape in Brazil altered what we previously called national alternative cinema production. The developments point towards our former conclusions on the extremely important role international financing – like the WFC – has in maintaining the possibility of such productions, almost counteracting state censorship. Since those events are rather recent, it is hard to find related academic works, especially regarding the cultural debate. This cultural debate is the aim of this epilogue and thus builds a bridge to our former conclusion.

As discussed in the first section of this article, by 2018, when the interim president Michel Temer was completing his term since the 2016 impeachment of Dilma Roussef, Brazil had the greatest year of national cinema production to date, despite his strict economic agenda.[1] This shows that public financing was still on track, even with less available money and government interest. Even with the still present domain of more “conservative” topics, the cultural polarization that took over the Brazilian political debate at the time of the 2016 coup did not spare national cinema production. According to a report of the University of São Paulo’s Monitor do Debate Politico no Meio Digital from February 2020, the “voting pattern of users of the Internet Movie Database (IMDb) shows that Brazilian films that had polarized ratings were predominantly those that received a reception marked by political debate”.[2]

The conservative political class crafted a discussion about how cultural public funding somehow favoured progressive and more critical speeches, which would destroy traditions that allegedly root Brazil’s national culture (such as traditional family values). These criticized progressive demands were joined under the concept of “gender ideology”, an ancient and twisted conservative idea present in Latin America’s politics since the 1990s. This misconception was particularly strong within Jair Bolsonaro’s political campaign for the 2018 presidential election. During his campaign, Bolsonaro advocated for traditional family constellations, and against LGBTQI+ rights, sexual education and the left wing that he accused of taking over the state institutions.

In 2019, the first year of his presidency, Bolsonaro quickly declared his intentions of interfering in the Brazilian national agency for cinema foment, ANCINE, to establish content filters that prevented “pornographic productions” and instead favoured a nationalistic story of “people who, in the past, gave their lives, worked to make Brazil independent back there, be democratic and dream of a future that belongs to all of us” [3], according to Bolsonaro. He declared that if he could not control the agency’s financing actions, he would extinguish it and explained further: “Yes, we intend it to stop being an agency and become a secretariat subordinated to us”. Bolsonaro expressed what motivated this agency occupation: “congratulations on the left-wing. The appropriation of not only the people, but of institutions”, as if institutions, like ANCINE, were previously overtaken by Brazilian left-wing and he must take them back.[4]

Since then, ANCINE, from a foment agency indeed turned strongly into a regulatory secretariat, and since certainly provoked a standstill in the movie sector. Evidence goes beyond direct measures like removing movie posters from its website and HQ[5] and making the use of nationalistic logos obligatory with the punishment of fining (much alike the conservative movements intends to),[6] followed by the presidency proposal of a 43% cut on the Fundo Setorial de Audiovisual (FSA) in 2019.[7] Bolsonaro took advantage of a 2018 episode when all FSA financing projects were interdicted by a recommendation of the Public Audit Supreme Court on investigating irregular projects during 2016 and 2017.[8] The investigative process was inherited by Bolsonaro’s government and fitted as an excuse to keep his agenda, including all of ANCINE’s resources in this investigation.

All FSA’s yearly funding is still blocked in 2020. The situation hasn’t changed, not even with ANCINE and the Ministry of Culture’s declaration about how the lack of available personnel[9] for investigating all 2016-2017 projects would certainly damage the other activities of the sector.[10] Despite the COVID-19 pandemic, neither 2018’s nor 2019’s funds were liberated by ANCINE [11] [12]. By the time this epilogue is being written, not only are 2020’s funds not available but also the federal government postponed the entire CODECINE tax charge (specifically for fomenting film productions) from telephone companies, which composes 80% of FSA’s fund, justified by allegedly protecting the film sector during the pandemic, although this tax suspension is only applied to the telephone companies. With that, the sector loses their source of public financing.[13]

Since 2018, in fact, ANCINE’s national foment of film production is, if not filtered by the government, currently suffocated by it. This new landscape creates other obstacles for movies with less market appeal, which, as shown by our former conclusions, have a difficult path to economic sustainability. This however fits declared government interest in censoring some subjects.[14]

Brazil is among the Latin American countries that consistently submit projects to international film funds like the WCF. The developments exposed make us believe the number of alternative productions depending on it may continue to increase, highlighting even more its importance.

 

Endnotes

[1] Globo, O (2019). Levantamento mostra diversidade dos 185 filmes brasileiros lançados em 2018. Grupo Globo (04 August 2019).  https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/levantamento-mostra-diversidade-dos-185-filmes-brasileiros-lancados-em-2018-23853388 (19 July 2020).

[2] Zeine, L; Ribeiro, M; Ortellado, P. Nota Técnica 6- Polarização Política na Avaliação de Filmes Brasileiros no IMDb. Tecnic note, São Paulo: Monitor do Debate Político no Meio Digital da Escola de Artes e Ciências Humanas- USP, 2020.

[3] Folha de São Paulo (2019). Bolsonaro diz que vai extinguir a ANCINE se agência não puder ter filtro. Grupo Folha (19 July 2019). https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/07/bolsonaro-diz-que-vai-extinguir-ancine-se-agencia-nao-puder-ter-filtro.shtml (19 July 2020).

[4] Folha de São Paulo (2019). Bolsonaro quer tomar o controle de dinheiro da ANCINE em flerte com a censura. Grupo Folha (22 July 2019). https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/07/bolsonaro-quer-tomar-o-controle-de-dinheiro-da-ancine-em-flerte-com-censura.shtml (19 July 2020).

[5] Folha de São Paulo (2019). ANCINE retira cartazes de filmes de sua sede e dados sobre filmes de site. Grupo Folha (03 December 2019). https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/12/ancine-retira-cartazes-de-filmes-de-sua-sede-e-dados-sobre-filmes-de-site.shtml (19 July 2020).

[6] Folha de São Paulo (2019). ANCINE determina que materiais de obras financiadas levem a bandeira do Brasil. Grupo Folha. (19 March 2020) https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2020/03/ancine-determina-que-materiais-de-obras-financiadas-levem-a-bandeira-do-brasil.shtml (19 July 2020).

[7] Folha de São Paulo (2019). Em ofensiva contra a ANCINE, Bolsonaro corta R$43 milhões de fundo do audiovisual. Grupo Folha. (11 September 2019) https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/09/em-ofensiva-contra-ancine-bolsonaro-corta-43-de-fundo-do-audiovisual.shtml(19 July 2020).

[8] Globo, O (2018). Relatório do TCU aponta problemas nas prestações de contas do Fundo Setorial do Audiovisual. Grupo Globo (23 May 2018) https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/filmes/relatorio-do-tcu-aponta-problemas-nas-prestacoes-de-contas-do-fundo-setorial-do-audiovisual-22710266 (19 July 2020).

[9] Globo, O (2020).  Diretoria da ANCINE cria força tarefa para agilizar liberação de verbas já aprovadas de filmes e séries. Grupo Globo (1 April 2020) https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/2274-diretoria-da-ancine-cria-forca-tarefa-para-agilizar-liberacao-de-verbas-ja-aprovadas-de-filmes-series-24345033 (19 July 2020).

[10] ANCINE (2018). Nota Oficial do Ministério da Cultura e da ANCINE à respeito do TCU. ANCINCE (23 May 2018)  https://ancine.gov.br/pt-br/sala-imprensa/noticias/nota-oficial-do-minc-e-da-ancine-respeito-do-tcu   (19 July 2020).

[11] Globo, O (2020). ANCINE anuncia medidas de emergência para conter crise no setor Audiovisual. Grupo Globo (20 March 2020) https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/ancine-anuncia-medidas-de-emergencia-para-conter-crise-no-audiovisual-24317692 (19 July 2020).

[12] Folha de São Paulo (2019). Fundo para o audiovisual está com R$724 milhões paralisados há sete meses. Grupo Folha (22 November 2019) https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/11/fundo-para-o-audiovisual-esta-com-r-724-milhoes-paralisados-ha-sete-meses.shtml (19 July 2020).

[13] Globo, O (2020). Empresas de telefonia não pagarão R$742,9 milhões à ANCINE após decisão judicial. Grupo Globo (07 April 2020) https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/empresas-de-telefonia-nao-pagarao-7429-milhoes-ancine-apos-decisao-judicial-24358338 (19 July 2020).

[14] One short example of a movie production affected by this landscape was Wagner Moura’s “Marighella”, that premiered in 2019’s Berlinale. It is a movie about a former guerrilla soldier from the resistance army against the 1964 military dictatorship, and the indefinitely postponed premiere was appraised by Bolsonaro’s son and city councillor. It did not receive marketing fund from the 2019 FSA due to late response and did not receive the expected fund from ANCINE, losing the bidding notice deadlines. Sources in: G1 (2019). Marighella tem estreia cancelada no Brasil. Grupo Globo (12 September 2019) https://g1.globo.com/pop-arte/cinema/noticia/2019/09/12/marighella-tem-estreia-cancelada-no-brasil.ghtm(19 July 2020); ANCINE (2019). Despacho decisório da coordenadora substituta de gestão financeira nº 15-E, de 19-06-2019 / Publicado no Diário Oficial de 23-07-2019 (23 September 2019)  https://www.ancine.gov.br/pt-br/legislacao/deliberacoes-decisoes-ancine/despacho-decis-rio-da-coordenadora-substituta-de-gest-o (19 July 2020); Folha de São Paulo (2019). ANCINE recusa pedido de produtora de Marighella de reembolso de R$1 milhão. Grupo Folha (30 August 2019) https://www1.folha.uol.com.br/ilustrada/2019/08/ancine-recusa-pedido-de-produtora-de-marighella-de-reembolso-de-r-1-milhao.shtml (19 July 2020).

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Brazil’s World Cinema: How are co-productions impacting Brazilian cinema reaction? 2021/04/17/brazils-world-cinema-how-are-co-productions-impacting-brazilian-cinema-reaction/ Sat, 17 Apr 2021 09:13:45 +0000 ?p=15603 Disclaimer

 

The Brazilian Cinema landscape

Brazilian cinema market tendencies show a favourable environment for movies with great public appeal. Productions related to the experimentative, thought-provoking Nouvelle Vague during the end of the 20th century, which was represented in Brazil by the Cinema Novo film movement, gave place to a new sort of productions, closer to the blockbuster approach.[1] Regardless of their individual subjects, these movies have gained the audience by making use of tension-building storytelling, visual effects and dramatic music with the primary aim of offering emotional experiences and less of a debate.

This is particularly notable analysing the Brazilian top-10 movies in terms of box office success.[2] Looking at the most recent ones (2005 to 2017) there are four such movies.[3] The biggest Brazilian box office success to this date, “Os Dez Mandamentos – O Filme” (2016), which is a literal representation of the well-known biblical principles of the Ten Commandments, is an over-dramatization of the epic overusing music and visual effects. The movie maintains a simple narrative, relying on the gimmicky superfluous and religious characteristics to hold its success.

Another example is the sequel to José Padilha’s “Tropa de Elite” (2007), “Tropa de Elite 2 – O Inimigo Agora é Outro” (2010). Following the good receptions of his prequel, Padilha intends to make the State itself the new villain, contrasting with the first movie where they fight against the threat of Organized Crime in the favelas. According to the director, the public got the wrong idea of heroism related to the protagonist, the controversial Military Police Captain Nascimento.[4]The sequel movie, however, used the same genre formula of quick cuts, action cameras and rush sensation, focusing on the drama from the protagonists’ perspective, diverting from the reflection Padilha wanted the audience to have from outside the war.

These films are two examples of Brazilian blockbusters that are dominating the national cinema market. However, smaller productions, that focused more on an experimentative and critical approach, are still a vehicle for Brazilian directors. By 2018, Brazil set a record of 185 movie premieres, as shown by the Ministry of Justice parental rating and subject reports. Of those, 3.2% focused on LGBTQ+ guidelines and 2.7% of environmental subjects. Despite the majority treating more “conservative” themes like family stories (10.8%), relationships (16.2%) and biographies of historical figures (10.2%), alternative films were still produced and fighting for their market space in the country.[5]

It is possible to see that Brazil’s cinema environment permits a quite diverse production in terms of subject. However, a short explanation on the market structure could be useful for the following analyses. The country has a strong private sector related to national media groups, such as Globo Filmes and Record Filmes. The capacity of financing, structure for production, budget and contracts with consolidated actors favors them in terms of their sustainability in making the movies like the ones described in the beginning of this section. They also are able to touch subjects in the much more popular TV’s works, like the brazilian novels and sitcoms.

The more experimentative and critical approach movies are often related to independent studios and filmmakers. As they usually face difficulties to access private financing, they rely on the strong public financing programs developed in the country during the 1990s and 2000s, based on sponsoring from national companies which receive tax incentives. They also tend to find their way into the international cinema circuit, which may guarantee more funding and projection abroad.

In both cases, there is one national institution that regulates it all, which is the National Cinema Agency (ANCINE). Founded in 2001, the agency is responsible for regulating the productions, it’s available data and local distribution at movie theatres. It also keeps track of the production’s financing, even with foreign funding. But most important, ANCINE is the State stance that evaluates and distributes the public funds for national cinema based on the country’s funding politics. The main source is named Fundo Setorial do Audiovisual (FSA), which gathers the investment of national companies previously referred. In other words, it has a great whole on the independent studios, as they still need to look for international funding to finance their productions.[6]

These productions have a strong bond with the German World Cinema Fund (WCF), an important source for Brazilian independent film to counteract its commercial competitors. Therefore, we aim to understand more of how foreign producers relate to alternative, independent and critical cinema in the country, productions that contrast with the blockbuster movies that usually focus on fast-paced, entertainment content. Firstly, we will explore the financing dynamics of producing with support of the WCF as German producers to then analyse three movies, which had a WFC participation, and compare them to other productions of similar subjects with a more commercial profile.[7] This comparison aims to identify the differences regarding the approach on the subject rather than the subject itself. Further, this article argues that funds like the WFC can be seen as a viable and alternative way for Brazilian world cinema to keep disputing national market space.

 

Behind the scenes of World Cinema

The term World Cinema (here also referred to it as alternative cinema) in this article refers to the categorization, mainly introduced and first implemented by Film Festivals, of films that originate in regions around the world outside of big studio productions (i.e. Hollywood). The term is used to identify films as arthouse, independent films or films made by internationally renowned directors.[8] These films are primarily categorized by geo-political factors and often presented by film festivals by their nationality almost as a film sub-genre. [9]

The film industry is both an economic and a political matter. Despite the controverse discussion, whether film should be positioned as an entertainment product or a cultural good, most filmmakers in countries that do not have a major studio-based industry like the U.S. rely on financing through public funds and subsidies to produce their films. This is the case in regions like Latin America and Europe, which, while being significantly different regions with different cultural and artistic expressions, have a similar film funding structure.[10] Through the last decades both regions have created policies that work on national and regional levels to spend public money in film production and incentivise co-productions between the regions’ member states, aiming to promote the regions’ audio-visual identity while preserving its cultural diversity.[11]

Producers, once acquired a story or idea, embark on a journey of fundraising and finding potential partners to secure financing for their film. For unconventional productions or movies that are not part of the blockbuster segment this becomes challenging. The cultural and artistic value of these movies is usually high, but investment is risky. Here is where public funds come into place. Furthermore, during the last decades, several international funding initiatives emerged in Europe, partly initiated by film festivals, with the objective of funding projects from countries of the Global South that lack an established film industry.[12] This way, filmmakers from developing countries could apply for these funds and international cooperation would emerge. Well known initiatives of this kind are, for example, the Hubert Bals Fund in The Netherlands and the WCF in Germany.[13] For Brazil, in times when public subsidies in critical sectors like culture and arts are being held back, this international aid has become essential.

Films are a reflection of a society, its culture and its values, of a nations’ identity. The WCF is a German fund for film financing, intended to support the production of films in countries with a weak film industry where filmmakers strive to get movies produced or films that are often not considered commercially viable.[14] This fund allows German producers to become partners of films from abroad. Between 2004 and 2017, more than 180 projects could successfully be implemented in cooperation between Europe and Latin America (among other regions) through this fund.[15]

While the Fundo Setorial do Audiovisual in Brazil destined R$162.5 million (about 36.1 million Euro) to support national films in 2016, many Brazilian movies won’t reach the audience volume as much as blockbusters do.[16] International liaisons are therefore vital for films that emerge in weak or polarized industry conditions: they give regional narratives a greater chance of outreach. Apart from a financial contribution – which often meets only a fraction of the total budget of a film – the impact of these international funds gains further importance regarding the mobility of the film, facilitating, to a certain extent, market and festival opportunities that a funded film will have and raising its chances to be distributed among wider audiences.[17]

Nevertheless, distributing world cinema remains difficult, since movie theatres often prioritize the exhibition of blockbusters. The recognition that films acquire from the funding initiatives and prominent festival exhibitions, becomes a potential tool to secure some kind of distribution abroad and in their country of origin – although it often remains limited.

For a German producer, getting on board on a production funded by the WCF means to not only immerse in a different culture but to shine light on essential problematics or topics that deserve greater visibility around the globe and that can be mirrored elsewhere. In this sense, cinema can be a tool to connect worlds. Many of the topics in films co-produced by Germany’s WCF during the last decade revolve around society, women’s identity, migration and political matters, creating a mosaic of perspectives.[18]

In this article, we analyse how international partnerships can make alternative productions reach broader audiences. With that, filmmakers can have different approaches to some subjects rather than depending on commercially viable ones, especially within fragile film production ecosystems. In the following section we highlight the narratives and artistic perspectives that differentiate the approaches of each film and that are directly reflected on its audience reach.

 

Analysis of the movies

As objects of study, among the list of Brazilian movies with more than half-million of sold tickets, we chose works with subjects that have already been on the country’s big screens, so we could have a comparison of how the same topic would be approached by an alternative cinema. The alternative movies we selected for this analysis are Kiko Goifman’s “Atos dos Homens” and Karim Aïnouz’s “O céu de Suely”, both from 2006, and Maria Augusta Ramos’ “O Processo”, released in 2018, which all have received the financial support from the WCF.

Goifman’s motion, “Atos dos Homens”, is about a common public agenda and frequent issue approached by Brazilian cinema: violence in the state of Rio de Janeiro. It has been the main topic of the globally known movie “Cidade de Deus” by Fernando Meirelles and Katia Lund from 2002 and Paulo Morelli’s “Cidade dos homens” from 2007, also gaining a franchise in José Padilha’s “Tropa de Elite” from 2006 and 2012. In all these movies, the producers aimed to create the atmosphere of “constant tension” formerly discussed. With quick-cut scenes, cameras following running chases, heated colour pallets focusing on the region’s warm climate and moments in which the audience is put on one of the sides of a gun are some of the reasons these movies are successful in giving the audience the anxious sensation of being in the scene. As the public is deep inside the action sequences, it gets harder to gain an objective outside perspective on what that violence really represents.

However, Goifman uses a different approach. Instead of showing the exact acts of violence, he focuses on the impact on the local populations’ daily life.[19] He tries to show the perceptions concerning the violence of the 2005 Queimados massacre of the survivors themselves.[20] The movie contains a series of interviews with local people from the affected micro society, like community radio station editors or former police officers outside their workplace. The documentary explains how that community fears the presence of the police, since they perceive that officers use their beneficiary position to instrumentalize the law as a tool for their needs, working above it. As reviewed by Folha de São Paulo, Brazil’s biggest journal by 2006,[21] by 2006, Goifman’s work had already stated that his “challenge is to go beyond the accusation, to provoke without cheap sensationalism”. In other words, he aims to activate a critical bond in the audiences regarding the victims of the structural violence instead of approaching it with a more commercially appealing way.[22]

Aïnouz’ “O Céu de Suely”, touches a similar subject as César Rodrigues’ franchise “Minha Mãe é uma Peça” (2013): mother and son’s abandonment by the husband. Rodrigues’ franchise, which holds fourth place in the nationally most watched Brazilian movies list,[23] clearly approaches the subject with an extravagant and comic tone, showing the ascension of an abandoned mother – portrayed by a man – into a wealthy and successful TV host.

The director chose to approach this social issue quite differently, as he portrays the protagonist Hermilas’ decision to prostitute herself to earn money in order to be able to raise her son. Hermila returns to her hometown to meet with her son’s father, not knowing that he had left her. The scenario differs strongly from Rodrigues’ middle-to-upper class environment in Rio de Janeiro, showing a small town, typical for Brazil’s countryside with its endemic poverty. In a counterpoint to Rodrigues’ motion, Aïnouz depicts the violent reactions of her family and the local population of the protagonist’s hometown on her supposedly indecent behaviour. The movie portrays this issue with a realistic atmosphere, bringing the difficulties that women in Hermila’s situation encounter in the conservative Brazilian society to the screen.

Ramos’ documentary “O Processo” from 2018, is about the impeachment of former Brazilian president Dilma Rousseff 2016. The movie chose to approach a specific time-framed event in contrast to the movies about more general social issues formerly discussed (like urban violence or mother and son abandonment). Hereby, it becomes part of and influences the ongoing impeachment narrative debate, strongly contributing to confirming the coup d’état nature of the removal.[24] Even if there is other media on a similar topic, like Marcelo Antunez 2017 “Polícia Federal: a lei é para todos” or José Padilha’s 2018 Netflix series “O Mecanismo”, this documentary is the first cinema approach on the Impeachment affair. Purely an aggregate of images of the Brazilian Congress during the rite of impeachment, it assumes a critical approach that shows the lack of a fair defence for the former president.[25] [26] Also, it indicates that all main characters were aware that they were in a marked cards game at the backstage of the legislative debates, since the arguments from Rousseff’s defence were shortly, if at all, debated by the opposition. It is remarkable how the law used to accuse Rousseff was softened by her opposition in the following Congress section as a demand by the president in term, Temer.[27] [28] It is also arguable that since that year the unfolding events pointed in a direction that puts a question mark on the legitimacy of the process.[29]

 

Conclusion

As reviewed above, film producers who work with the WCF have an interest in financing smaller, more challenging productions with the purpose of spreading content that differs from commercially attractive narratives. Brazilian directors and productions, as observed, use this opportunity to approach subjects related to rather conservative beliefs still present in the Brazilian population in an alternative manner. The result are movies with counternarratives that give the audience a chance to reflect on those same issues from a different angle, be it a critical vision of Rio de Janeiro’s constant urban violence issue, a less superficial take on the male family figure abandonment issue or a backstage narrative of a political crisis. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that European funds like the WCF play a key role in maintaining a critical, alternative way of filmmaking in Brazil, with huge importance for the independent film sector.

All three WCF funded films that were analysed in this article were released on renown international film festivals. To some degree, the participation of the World Cinema Fund has contributed to the outreach of the films and probably strengthened the development of subsequent audiovisual works by the directors. Several German production companies that engaged in the production of films through WCF financing continued producing international films or include international production in their main activities.[30] However, the question remains if this film financing model alone is a sustainable model for German based companies and whether contributing to its sustainability is the duty of the World Cinema Fund.

For future works, it might also be interesting to consider whether developing film industries are critically dependent on international funding for financing or if this is an intrinsic part of the industry dynamics in today’s globalized movie sector.[31]

 

Endnotes

[1] Cousins, M. (2013). História do Cinema. São Paulo: Martins Fontes, pp. 328-436.

[2] OCA/Ancine (2018). Cinema. https://oca.ancine.gov.br/cinema. (14 June 2018).

[3] 2005 was selected as a “first” year because the oldest movie that we will analyse is from 2006.

[4] Trip, R. (2015). Planos de Fuga. https://revistatrip.uol.com.br/trip/jose-padilha-fala-sobre-hollywood-cinema-a-serie-narcos-e-o-brasil. (14 June 2018).

[5] Globo, O (2019). Levantamento mostra diversidade dos 185 filmes brasileiros lançados em 2018. Grupo Globo (04 August 2019).  https://oglobo.globo.com/cultura/levantamento-mostra-diversidade-dos-185-filmes-brasileiros-lancados-em-2018-23853388 (19 July 2020).

[6] Canclini, N. G. (2019). Culturas Híbridas. São Paulo: EDUSP and Marson, M. I. (2006). O Cinema da Retomada: Estado e cinema no Brasil da dissolução da Embrafilme à criação da Ancine. Campinas: Unicamp.

[7] In this article, we refer to ‘commercial attractiveness’ of a film as movies that are considered blockbusters and have a significant occupation in major movie theatres.

[8] Hoefert de Turégano, T. (2002) Transnational Cinematic Flows: World Cinema as World Music. Media in Transition, 2: pp. 3. For comparison, also see definition of Festival Film in chapter by Falicov T. (2016) ‘The Festival Film’: Film Festivals as Cultural Intermediaries. In Marijke de Valck, Brendan Kredell, and Skadi Loist (eds.) (2016) Film Festivals: History, Theory, Method, Practice, Routledge, pp. 212-215

[9] Stephen Crofts cited in Campos, M. (2018). Lo (trans) nacional como eje del circuito de festivales de cine. Una aproximación histórica al diálogo Europa-América Latina. Imagofagia, (17), pp. 14-15.

[10] For an understanding of the film funding landscape in Latin America see chapter by Shaw, L., Duno-Gottberg, L., Page, J. and Sánchez Prado, I. M. (2017). National Cinemas (Re)ignited – Film and the state in D’Lugo, M., López, A. M., & Podalsky, L. (Eds.). (2017). The Routledge Companion to Latin American Cinema. Abingdon: Routledge, pp. 44-59; for an overview of film funding policy in the European Union see chapters by Kolokytha, O., and Sarikakis, K. (2018). Film Governance in the EU: Caught in a Loop? and Ferri, D. (2018) Film Funding Law in the European Union: Discussing the Rationale and Reviewing the Practice, both in: Murschetz, P. et al (eds.) (2018). Handbook of State Aid for Film. Cham: Springer, pp. 67-82, 211-226.

[11] The film funding programme Programa Ibermedia in Latin America and Eurimages in the European Union, for instance, are comparable funding measures.

[12] See chapter by Falicov, T. (2010). Migrating from South to North: The Role of Film Festivals in Funding and Shaping Global South Film and Video. In: Elmer, G. et al. (eds.) (2010) Locating Migrating Media. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, pp. 3-21.

[13] The Hubert Bals Fund (operating since 1988) is an initiative from the International Film Festival Rotterdam (IFFR), while the World Cinema Fund is the funding initiative from the Berlinale. Other film funds of this kind are the Aide aux Cinémas du Monde from the CNC in France (Centre National du Cinéma et de l’Image Animée) or the Visions Sud Est Fund from Switzerland.

[14] Web-presence of the WCF: https://www.berlinale.de/en/world-cinema-fund/home/profile.html (14 June 2018).

[15] World Cinema Fund (2018). Summary booklet World Cinema Fund supported films 2004 – 2017, published by the WCF initiative.

[16] ANCINE, Fundo Setorial do Audiovisual, RELATÓRIO DE GESTÃO DO FUNDO SETORIAL DO AUDIOVISUAL, EXERCÍCIO DE 2016. P. 21.

[17] As a comparison, an analysis of the effects of the Hubert Bals Fund can be found in Miriam Ross’ article of 2011, The film festival as producer: Latin American Films and Rotterdam’s Hubert Bals Fund. Screen52(2), pp. 261-267.

[18] World Cinema Fund (2018) Summary booklet World Cinema Fund supported films 2004 – 2017, published by the WCF initiative.

[19] Estado, A. (2005). Kiko Goifman exibe trecho de novo documentário. Estado de São Paulo.

[20] When 29 locals were killed by a group of corrupted police officers unsatisfied with corruption combat measures taken by their new superiors back then

[21] ANJBR. (2006). Os maiores jornais do Brasil de circulação paga, por ano. www.anj.org.br/maiores-jornais-do-brasil/ (14 June 2018).

[22] Hamburguer, E.(2006)  Atos dos Homens” lança olhar à Baixada Fluminense após chacina. Folha Ilustradahttp://www1.folha.uol.com.br/fsp/ilustrad/fq0802200609.htm. (14 June 2018).

[23] OCA/Ancine (2018). Cinema. https://oca.ancine.gov.br/cinema. (14 June 2018).

[24] The debate regarding the impeachment’s legitimacy was already on as shown by the protest of the production members from the Brazilian movie Aquarius during 2016 Cannes festival, three months before the final voting in congress: Deutsche Welles (2016). Em Cannes, equipe de “Aquarius” protesta contra impeachment. (17 May 2016). https://www.dw.com/pt-br/em-cannes-equipe-de-aquarius-protesta-contra-impeachment/a-19264184   (21 February 2021).

[25] Both cited productions do not have takes on the Impeachment affair, but on a second moment of the Brazilian political crises, which is the Brazilian judiciary journey to arrest former president Luis Inácio da Silva.

[26] This content, by the time of the impeachment, was integrally transmitted by Congress TV Channels, which hold an exceedingly small audience.

[27] Both cited productions do not have takes on the Impeachment affair, but on a second moment of the Brazilian political crises, which is the Brazilian judiciary journey to arrest former president Luis Inácio da Silva.

[28] Nexo Jornal (2016). O que diz a lei sancionada pelo governo Temer sobre créditos suplementares. (08 September 2016). https://www.nexojornal.com.br/expresso/2016/09/08/O-que-diz-a-lei-sancionada-pelo-governo-Temer-sobre-cr%C3%A9ditos-suplementares (24 July 2020).

[29] Since 2016, several studies have endorsed the impeachment view as a coup organized by a varied group of conservative elites (assembling protestant churches, landowners, media groups, among others) and inserted in a Latin America context of parliamentary coups during the late 2010s, as in:  Singer, A., Boito Jr, A., Gomes, C., Ribeiro, D., Fagnani, E., Solano, E., … & Arantes, P. (2016). Porque gritamos golpe: para entender o impeachment e a crise política no Brasil. São Paulo: Boitempo Editorial; Tavares, F. D. M. B., Berger, C., & Vaz, P. B. (2016). Um golpe anunciado: Lula, Dilma e o discurso pró-impeachment na revista Veja. Pauta Geral, 3(2), pp. 20-44; Prudencio, K., Rizzotto, C., & Sampaio, R. C. (2018). A Normalização do Golpe: o esvaziamento da política na cobertura jornalística do ‘impeachment’de Dilma Rousseff. Contracampo, Niterói, 37(02), pp. 08-36.

[30] According to the information listed on WCF Website ‘funded films: production’

[31] Some works discussing this subject are Campos, M. (2013). La América Latina de” Cine en Construcción” Implicaciones del apoyo económico de los festivales internacionales / The Latin America of “Films in Progress”. Archivos de la Filmoteca. No. 71, pp. 13-26; Baqués, C. C. (2011). El espacio audiovisual euro-latinoamericano: el cine como eje central de la cooperación supranacional. Anàlisi: quaderns de comunicació i cultura. No. 41, pp. 27-45; as well as Falicov, T. (2010). Migrating from South to North: The Role of Film Festivals in Funding and Shaping Global South Film and Video. In: Elmer, G. et al. (eds.) (2010). Locating Migrating Media. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, pp. 3-21.

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The Shape of Water 2020/09/03/the-shape-of-water/ Thu, 03 Sep 2020 06:52:07 +0000 ?p=15114 Disclaimer

The following thematic paper presents the Sustainable Development Goal 6 and its targets as part of the United Nation’s Agenda 2030. A measurement to evaluate water quality and quantity is introduced, namely the so-called Water Footprint (WF) developed by the Water Footprint Network. Its composition is depicted and applied to the countries of the Latin America-Caribbean (LAC) region. Noteworthy is especially that a fifth of LAC’s WF is export driven. Due to the high degree in trade connections, most of the water is exported -virtually- to the European Union. Finally, we present innovative technological solutions to tackle climate change-related risks to drinking water supply on smart cities and the lack of clean water supply. One of the nature-based solutions mentioned is the protection of wetlands.

 

1.Introduction

This article’s title is not only coinciding with the title of the Oscar-winning movie by the Mexican director Guillermo del Toro, but also a crucial subject in the reality of the LAC region. This is reflected in the indigenous languages spoken on the continent: in Náhuatl there are 19 different translations of the word “water”, all depending on its shape. While asesek refers to cold water, itstikatl is iced water. Yaku is Quechua for water and was the essential claim within the Cochabamba Water conflict, a series of violent protests that took place in the third largest city of Bolivia in1999 and 2000. This conflict surged in response to an expected water price increase of more than 200 percent due to the privatization of the city’s municipal water supply company SEMAPA.[i] This is only one of numerous examples of conflicts related to the access, quality and supply of water in LAC.

In this paper, we tackle several water-related problems and find answers to the following questions: What are the global development goals with regard to water? How can water quality be measured efficiently? Furthermore, in our analysis we will give some concrete examples of technological innovations aiming at improving water quality and quantity.

 

2. The Water Situation in LAC

The Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) 6 aims at achieving universal access to safely and appropriately managed water resources as part of the 2030 Sustainable Development Agenda and includes monitoring framework with eight targets and eleven indicators.[ii] Access to safe water and sanitation as well as management of freshwater ecosystems are essential to human health and to environmental sustainability. To achieve SDG 6 by 2030, it is necessary to make investments in infrastructure and technologies and to provide sanitary facilities.

The LAC region has the highest coverage of drinking water in developing regions (94%). For example, in Uruguay more than 96 percent of the population has access to improved sanitation facilities, compared to less than half the population in Bolivia (46%) and almost a quarter (24%) in Haiti (2018 numbers). The countries with the least access to drinking water in LAC are: Haiti, Dominican Republic, Nicaragua, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia.[iii]Since the 1990s, an extra of 35% of the population in LAC countries has gained access to improved sources of drinking water and in nearly all LAC economies at least 76 percent of the population uses improved sanitation according to the United Nations definitions. [iv] The only exceptions are Bolivia, Panama, Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala.

For a long time, the world has first turned to build man-made infrastructure – also known as gray infrastructure – to improve the management of water resources. In doing so, it has often neglected traditional and indigenous knowledge, which adopts more ecological approaches. In consideration of the Agenda 2030, there are many nature-based solutions to contribute to the achievement of the water management objectives like the ones mentioned below.

 

2.1.  Water Quality Measurement

Referring to the title of this paper, water can also take the shape of a footprint – the water footprint (WF) developed by the Water Footprint Network is one common concept of making its consumption comparable. It measures the amount of water used to produce each of the goods and services we use. It can be measured for a single process such as growing rice, for a product such as a pair of jeans, or for an entire (multi-national) company. The water footprint can also tell us how much water is being consumed by a particular country – or globally – in a specific river basin or from an aquifer.[v]

Figure 1: Components of the agricultural water footprint: green, blue and grey (from SAB Miller and WWF, 2009)

The total WF of production in LAC in the period between 1996 and 2005 was 1,162 billion m3/y (87% green, 5% blue and 8% grey). Crop production contributed 71percent, followed by grazing (23%). Maize and the globally risen demand for soybeans contributed 18percent each to the crop-related WF. About 21percent of the WF within LAC is related to production for export.[vi] About 78percent of this total virtual water export is related to export of soybeans, coffee, cotton, livestock products and sugarcane. Most of the virtual water export was destined to the EU (36%), the US (22%) and China (8%).[vii]

 

2.2.  Betting on Ecological Engineering

The use of “green” infrastructures as opposed to “gray” infrastructures which is used to improve water management relies on ecological engineering, which preserves the ecosystems. As water demand continues to rise, countries and municipalities are increasingly interested in green solutions. The green solutions are essential for the achievement of the SDG 6. An example of nature-based solutions are wetlands, which cover only 2.6 percent of the planet but play a leading hydrological role: they have a direct impact on water quality and act as filters to retain some toxic substances derived from pesticides, industrial waste or water. It is estimated that wetlands can by themselves remove between 20 and60 percentof the metals contained in the water and retain between 80 and 90 percent of the sediments of runoff waters. Wetlands also act as natural barriers and sponges that capture rainwater, which limits soil erosion and the impact of certain natural catastrophes, such as floods. Despite all these benefits, there is still very little recourse to nature-based solutions. Most of the current investments continue to be concentrated on “gray” infrastructures.[viii]

 

2.3.  Targets of the SDG 6

The SDG 6 is one of 17 Goals agreed upon by the United Nations in September 2015.[ix]The SDG 6 are monitored by eleven indicators, which are divided into three groups – so-called Tiers – depending on data availability and maturity of measurement.[x] The indicators are shown in Figure 2. Tier I indicators thereby count with an approved methodology and can be tracked by data which come from countries itself.  rather than from international agencies.

Figure 2: SDG 6 Global Indicators. Retrieved from: http://www.unwater.org/publications/sdg-6-indicators-tiering-system/

2.4.  Co-Operation in Achieving the SDG 6

Besides investment in infrastructure and all kinds of material support, more international cooperation in knowledge and immaterial values is needed to encourage water efficiency and support treatment technologies in developing countries. In 2018, a new environmental development program with a regional focus on LAC, funded by the European Commission was put into practice: The EUROCLIMA+ program seeks to support LAC in achieving their self-chosen environmental goals formulated in the 2015 Paris Climate Agreement. The importance of water management for climate change adaptation has also been highlighted in the “Paris Agreement on water and climate change adaptation of hydrographic basins, lakes and aquifers” that was presented at the 2015 United Nations Climate Change Conference (COP21). The program intervenes in the realm of water management in the context of urban resilience – due to the fact that Central and South America are the regions with the highest rate of urban population (80.4%, which continues to grow), behind North America (81.6%) and significantly above the world average (United Nations, 2014).

 

3. Innovations and Opportunities

Currently, many countries face problems such as climate change or deterioration of gray infrastructure systems. Because of these problems, the populations suffer from inefficient management and increasing scarcity of water resources, as well as of decreasing water quality. Intervention is necessary through innovative technologies that guarantee the optimization of resources and costs. The introduction of innovative technologies has much potential to assist in reaching the SDG6.

An effort underway is a range of innovative, low-cost technologies called SMART (Simple, Market-based, Affordable, Repairable Technologies). Examples are manual drilling, locally produced hand pumps, tube groundwater recharge to store rainwater in the ground, household water filters, and others. An example of an innovative technology that seeks to improve access to water for all are the fog catchers or collectors. These are vast mesh nets that capture moisture from fog, which drips into collection trays after condensation. The water is clean, free and instant. An initiative to collect moisture from the sea haze in Lima has become an inventive and profitable solution to the growing water shortage in the Peruvian capital. Fog collecting projects have also been implemented in countries such as Chile and Guatemala.

 

Smart cities and water

Cities are complex and water is only one of many topics that need to be taken into account in promoting inclusive, safe, resilient and sustainable urbanization. Nevertheless, sound water management provides the foundation for all aspects of sustainable urban development and therefore needs to be adequately reflected in the frameworks like the SDG 6.

In line with the “Europe 2020” strategy, the European Commission proposed different actions to create a “resource-efficient” Europe and promote awareness on the sustainable use of water resources. In this strategy, it has developed an information communications technology (ICT) platform, called SmartH2O. The SmartH2O project wants to deliver a) platform to provide support for water utilities in determining optimal water pricing as well as to consumers in changing their water consumption habits, while at the same time contributing to a more efficient use of water. This is done with the integration of smart metering, social computation, dynamic water pricing, and consumer behavioral models. Furthermore, the SmartH2O project stresses the importance of innovation in the water sector by coupling smart meter technologies with innovative end-user services which could help realize better water management. [xi]

Figure 3: The flow of information of the SmartH2O platform. Retrieved from http://smarth2o.deib.polimi.it/

4. Conclusions and Outlook

In order to counteract new challenges related to water security posed by population growth and climate change, we need new water resources management solutions. If we do not act now, around 5,000 million people will live in areas with water shortages by 2030. Preventing conflicts related to water is a great challenge which has to be faced together and in a responsible way. Improvement in agricultural practices and water management must come along with technical support to small farmers, engagement of river basin managers and policy makers, and high-quality data at the river basin level. Mechanisms need to be adopted that constrain the exploitation of land and water resources within environmental thresholds in accordance with the Paris Agreement and agricultural practices need to be developed that lead to more value in accordance with the SMART principles. Since a noteworthy amount of water in LAC economies is used for producing export goods, it has to be monitored how and if this amount increases with the growing commercial interaction between LAC and the EU (e.g. modernized EU-Mexico Global Agreement in April 2018).

In short, the water problem does not have a solution, it has many. As the means to carry them out are limited, it is necessary to plan the measures to be developed. Creating an enabling environment that contributes to inclusive and informed decision-making, and the planning of water resource management, are a top priority. This will be possible through coherent policies, legal frameworks, dedicated financing, strong institutions and partnership with, and involvement of, all relevant stakeholders in society.

 

References

[i] Crane Draper, M. and Shultz, J. (2008): Dignity and Defiance. Stories from Bolivia’s challenge to globalization. University of California Press, Los Angeles.

[ii] United Nations Sustainable Development Knowledge Platform 2017. Sustainable Development Goal 6: Ensure availability and sustainable management of water and sanitation for all. Accessed March 2018.

[iii]CASMA,Julio C. América Latina: la región con más agua, la más castigada por la sed. Peru, Lima. 13 May 2015. Retrieved from: https://elpais.com/internacional/2015/05/13/actualidad/1431542093_232345.html.

[iv] World Health Organization: Progress on Sanitation and Drinking Water: 2015 Update and MDG Assessment.

[v] Aldaya, M., Chapagain, A., Hoekstra, A., Mekonnen, M. (2011): The Water Footprint Assessment Manual: Setting the Global Standard. Published by Taylor & Francis, New York.

[vi] UNESCO Institute for Water Education (2014): Water Footprint assessment for Latin America and the Caribbean: An Analysis of the Sustainability, Efficiency and Equitability of Water Consumption and Pollution. In: Value of Water Research Report Series No. 66.

[vii] ibid.

[viii] WWAP Presentation: Launch of the UN World Water Development Report 2018.

[ix] UNDP 2016; Retrieved from: http://www.undp.org/content/undp/en/home/sustainable-development-goals.html

[x] Retrieved from: http://www.unwater.org/publications/sdg-6-indicators-tiering-system/.

[xi] Novak, J., Melenhorst, M., Micheel, I., Pasini, C., Fraternali, P., Rizzoli, A.E., (2016), Behaviour change and incentive modelling for water saving: first experiences from the SmartH2O project. Proceedings of the 8th International Congress on Environmental Modelling and Software – iEMSs 2016, Toulouse (France).

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Innovation through technology: The sustainability of lithium batteries in electric vehicles 2020/09/03/innovation-through-technology-the-sustainability-of-lithium-batteries-in-electric-vehicles/ Thu, 03 Sep 2020 06:51:50 +0000 ?p=15103 Disclaimer

The production of energy storage systems for electric vehicle applications using lithium-ion batteries form the basis of this bi-regional case study. The assessment draws attention to the sustainability of two stages of the lifecycle of lithium-ion batteries in order to understand resource availability and product sustainability for current and future manufacturing, not only for electric vehicles but also for other electronic devices powered by lithium-ion batteries technology.

 

Technology is providing new and exciting opportunities to help combat current anthropogenic issues such as climate change. Batteries in particular have become a key element in modern day society; from mobile devices and laptops to the growing markets of clean energy (such as solar panels, wind turbines, etc.) and electric vehicles. With the evolution of the rechargeable battery, society is becoming aware of the benefits it can provide, not only to people, but also to the natural environment.

In response to global efforts to reduce CO2 emissions in the transportation sector, electric vehicles (EVs) have become a growing market.1 It has been estimated that EVs will increase more than thirtyfold by 2030 (see Graph 1), competing against laptops and mobile phones for the use of lithium-ion (Li-ion) batteries.2 The growing interest in the Li-ion battery specifically is due to its long life, lightweight characteristics and its cost-efficiency, which has forecast it to have the highest potential for future energy storage technology.3 The increase in EVs has consequently increased demand for Li-ion batteries, placing a greater pressure on the sourcing of the necessary raw materials such as cobalt, graphite and lithium.4 Worldwide lithium production, for example, has increased by approximately 13% during 2017.5

Although EVs do not directly emit CO2, their overall greenhouse gas emissions depend on the fuel type used to generate the electricity that is used to charge the battery. An EV’s environmental footprint, like any product, also depends on the sustainability of the process of production, including the steps taken to produce and dispose of the battery. One way to analyse its sustainability is to carry out a life cycle analysis.6

Graph 1: Annual global electric vehicle sales are forecast to hit 24.4 million by 2030. Courtesy: Bloomberg Energy Finance

Life Cycle

A product will go through several stages before it reaches the end of its life or “use.” The life cycle of a product has five main stages: Resource Mining, Chemical Production, Product Manufacture, Product Use and Waste Management.7 Companies are becoming more aware of this life cycle and that it is important to analyse how each part of the process is carried out.8 In this particular case, two of the main stages in the life cycle of the Li-ion battery for EVs will be discussed: the resource mining of lithium and the waste management of Li-ion batteries.

The two stages will be based on the following discussions; first, the potential environmental impact of the resource extraction of lithium in Chile and options for improving sustainability, and second, sustainable and efficient waste management in the UK of Li-ion batteries no longer of capacity to power an EV. While the manufacturing stage is just as important in regard to sustainability, focus will be placed upon the direct environmental effects of the life cycle of a Li-ion battery from an EV during the extraction process, and how it is dealt with when it is no longer of use to the consumer.

 

The salt flats of Chile

Currently, around 70 million cars are produced globally per year.9 Around 7 million lithium ion batteries are manufactured each year, equating to enough batteries for just 10% of vehicle production.10 According to Armand and Tarascon (2008), replacing the world’s 800 million cars and lorries with electric transportation would use 30% of the world’s known reserves of lithium.11 The issue with lithium is not its availability but rather the rate at which it is being produced. 12

The Salar de Atacama in Northern Chile is one of the biggest producers of lithium salt from brine deposits (also known as evaporation ponds) in the world. 13 Extracting lithium from brines requires solar energy to allow for the evaporation of water and large dumpsites are used to store the salt residue generated during the process. 14 This can take up to 24 months.15

Although this method is more sustainable than the conventional mining of lithium, the extraction process in Chile does have a negative impact on the surrounding environment.16 Water is currently the main source of controversy as mining consumes around 65% of water available in the Salar de Atacama region.17The intense use of water in this region not only negatively impacts the surrounding flora and fauna but also the neighbouring communities, whose livelihoods rely on the already scarce supply of water. If the demand for lithium increases, as it has been forecasted to, then these issues will only intensify further.18

Improvements in extraction technology will, in part, improve the sustainability of the first stage in the life cycle of the Li-ion battery (cobalt, nickel and other raw materials used in Li-ion batteries would require similar life cycle analysis to further improve the sustainability). The European Commission has been involved in research that is developing a more innovative and sustainable method of lithium extraction from salt brines.19 The project is known as the Lithium Direct Extraction Process and if successful will not only allow for the industrialisation of high quality lithium, but will also reduce its environmental impact.

The process is an innovative alternative to solar evaporation using a solid to liquid extraction technology. Lithium-depleted brine is returned to the natural environment instead of storing it in large waste sites. In doing so, the impact on the hydric balance will be significantly reduced.20 This process would not only alleviate pressure from areas like the Atacama Desert, it would also enable lithium extraction by countries previously unable due to inadequate natural conditions for effective evaporation, such as a lack of sunshine or lower altitudes.

 

How rechargeable batteries are made

Once the lithium is extracted, along with the other necessary raw materials, the manufacturing of the Li-ion battery takes place. Li-ion batteries are composed of three layers: an anode, a cathode, and a porous separator.21 The anode is composed of graphite and other conductive additives. The cathode is composed of layered transition metal oxides. The product is saturated in an electrolyte solution, consisting of lithium-salt and organic solvents and sealed in a casing usually composed of steel or aluminium material to create a battery cell.22

Once the battery cell is complete, several cells are arranged to form a battery pack. The battery cells are separated within the battery pack and housed with other components, including a thermal control unit, wiring, and electronic card. Please see Diagram 1 for a more visual description of this process.23

Diagram 1: Life Cycle of a battery. 24 Source: United State Environmental Protection Agency

 

 

Waste management

The lifespan of an electric vehicle is projected at being over ten years, yet the lifespan of a Li-ion battery is less than this.25 By the time a Li-ion battery reaches 60%-80% capacity it will reduce the driving range for an EV and will need to be replaced.26 According to a report titled “Circular opportunities in the lithium-ion industry” by Hans Eric Melin, the availability of used Li-ion batteries ready for recycling will exceed 150,000 tonnes by 2025.27  This quantity of battery would generate more than 20,000 tonnes of lithium and 15,000 tonnes of cobalt. Please see Graphs 2 and 3 for a more comprehensive  understanding.

Graph 2: Materials from recycled lithium-ion batteries in 2025. Courtesy: Bloomberg Energy Finance

Graph 3: Lithium-ion batteries availability for recycling in 2025. Courtesy: Bloomberg Energy Finance

Technologies that recycle all components of a lithium battery would require the ability to: discharge the spent lithium battery; dismantle and classify the components; separate the electrode components; and refine and add value.28  However, the current reality of the recycling of Li-ion batteries is that although  it has the ability to achieve up to 95% recovery, most of the techniques are energy-intensive processes and would require a much higher investment in comparison to the cost of lithium extraction and importation from countries such as Chile.29

Diagram 2: End of life methods. Courtesy: Hong-Chao Zhang

The UK has recently announced that there will be investments in 27 research projects involving 66 organisations for the innovation of battery technology. The projects aim to put the UK on the map as a global leader in the development and manufacturing of new battery technology. In addition, there will be projects that will research and identify more sustainable end uses for batteries by either reusing, remanufacturing or recycling them.30 To this end, the Nissan LEAF factory in Sunderland has also been advocating for the transition to more sustainable lifestyles through technology that reuses EV Li-ion batteries to store solar energy.31 Not only will this create societal access to more sustainable lifestyles, but it also increases the sustainability and lifespan within the life cycle of an Li-ion battery.

 

Next Steps

The assessment of a product’s life cycle can help pinpoint areas in which the production process can be improved to achieve greater sustainability and reduce environmental damage. New technology could reshape the life cycle of an Li-ion battery and increase its sustainability. In doing so, an electric vehicle’s overall life cycle would expect to have a reduced carbon footprint.

In the future, the recycling of Li-ion batteries could reduce pressure on the extraction of lithium and other raw materials that are necessary in the composition of a battery. In addition, new, innovative extraction techniques will not only relieve the pressure of water supply for local communities in Chile but will also open the lithium market to countries previously hindered by lack of solar energy for the evaporation process. In doing so, the demand for lithium produced in Chile may fluctuate. With this in mind, the government of Chile has been considering both a value-added approach as well as investing in research and technological development to allow for the production of Li-ion batteries.32

Chile, one of the leaders in lithium production, and the UK as a leader in battery innovation and waste management provide a bi-regional perspective of the processes that must be considered when assessing the life cycle of a product. Extant literature promotes an interdisciplinary approach when developing sustainable technologies on an international level.33 In the past, trade agreements between the European Union and Chile have included articles related to the promotion of the exchange of knowledge and experience between the two regions.34 This agreement could lay out the foundation for a new and more tailored model to share science and technology-based knowledge specifically in relation to the lithium-ion battery.

Continued learning between stakeholders within the value chain of the production of electric vehicles and the promotion of innovation, science and technology will further the successes in achieving a sustainable life cycle.

 

References

1 Shankleman, J. et al. (2018). We’re Going to Need More Lithium. Bloomberg.com (7 Sept.2017). Available at: https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2017-lithium-battery-future/ (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

2 Shankleman, J. et al. (2018). We’re Going to Need More Lithium. Bloomberg.com (7 Sept.2017). Available at: https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2017-lithium-battery-future/ (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

3 REDUse, Friends of the Earth, Global 2000 (2013). Less is more Resource efficiency through waste collection, recycling and reuse of aluminium, cotton and lithium in Europe. Brussels: GLOBAL 2000 Verlagsges.m.b.H., Neustiftgasse 36, 1070 Vienna., pp.3-10. Available at: http://www.foeeurope.org/sites/default/files/news/foee_report_-_less_is_more.pdf (Accessed 10 Jun. 2018).

4 Sun, X. et al. (2017). Tracing global lithium flow: A trade-linked material flow analysis. Resources, Conservation and Recycling Research gate, 124(50-61). Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/316747087_Tracing_global_lithium_flow_A_trade-linked_material_flow_analysis. (Accessed 24 Jul. 2018).

5 Zinke, R. et al. (2018). U.S. Geological Survey, Mineral Commodity Summaries, January 2018. Available at:https://doi.org/10.3133/70194932. (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018) 98 p.

6 Sun, X. et al. (2017). Tracing global lithium flow: A trade-linked material flow analysis. Resources, Conservation and Recycling Research gate, 124(50-61). Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/316747087_Tracing_global_lithium_flow_A_trade-linked_material_flow_analysis. (Accessed 24 Jul. 2018).

7 Ibid

8 Sun, X. et al. (2017). Tracing global lithium flow: A trade-linked material flow analysis. Resources, Conservation and Recycling Research gate, 124(50-61). Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/316747087_Tracing_global_lithium_flow_A_trade-linked_material_flow_analysis. (Accessed 24 Jul. 2018).

9 Tahil, W. (2007). The Trouble with Lithium Implications of Future PHEV Production for Lithium Demand. Meridian International Research (January,2007) pp.p.1-p.27. Available at: http://meridian-int-res.com/Projects/Lithium_Problem_2.pdf (Accessed 4 Jun. 2018).

10 Ibid

11Armand, M. and Tarascon, J. (2008). Building better batteries. Nature, 451(7179), pp.652-657. Available at:

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/5594867_Building_Better_Batteries. (Accessed 4 Jun. 2018).

12 Armand, M. and Tarascon, J. (2008). Building better batteries. Nature, 451(7179), pp.652-657. Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/5594867_Building_Better_Batteries (Accessed 4 Jun. 2018).

13 REDUse, Friends of the Earth, Global 2000 (2013). Less is more Resource efficiency through waste collection, recycling and reuse of aluminium, cotton and lithium in Europe. [online] Brussels: GLOBAL 2000 Verlagsges.m.b.H., Neustiftgasse 36, 1070 Vienna., pp.3-10. Available at: http://www.foeeurope.org/sites/default/files/news/foee_report_-_less_is_more.pdf (Accessed 10 Jun. 2018).

14 EUROPEAN COMMISSION (2018). COMMISSION STAFF WORKING DOCUMENT Report on Raw Materials for Battery Applications. Brussels, pp.35-42. Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/transport/sites/transport/files/3rd-mobility-pack/swd20180245.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

15 Ec.europa.eu. (2018). Development of an innovative and sustainable lithium extraction process from medium lithium grade brines – European Commission. Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/growth/tools-databases/eip-raw-materials/en/content/development-innovative-and-sustainable-lithium-extraction-process-medium-lithium-grade (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

16 Notter, D. et al. (2010). Contribution of Li-Ion Batteries to the Environmental Impact of Electric Vehicles. Environmental Science & Technology, 44(17), pp.6550-6556. Available at: https://pubs.acs.org/doi/ipdf/10.1021/es903729a (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

17 Tahil, W. (2007). The Trouble with Lithium Implications of Future PHEV Production for Lithium Demand. Meridian International Research (January,2007) pp.p.1-p.27. Available at: http://meridian-int-res.com/Projects/Lithium_Problem_2.pdf (Accessed 4 Jun. 2018).

18 USGS (2018). U.S. Geological Survey, Mineral Commodity Summaries. Minerals.usgs.gov.  (2018). Available at: https://minerals.usgs.gov/minerals/pubs/commodity/lithium/mcs-2018-lithi.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

19 Ec.europa.eu. (2018). Development of an innovative and sustainable lithium extraction process from medium lithium grade brines – European Commission. Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/growth/tools-databases/eip-raw-materials/en/content/development-innovative-and-sustainable-lithium-extraction-process-medium-lithium-grade (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

20 Ec.europa.eu. (2018). Development of an innovative and sustainable lithium extraction process from medium lithium grade brines – European Commission. Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/growth/tools-databases/eip-raw-materials/en/content/development-innovative-and-sustainable-lithium-extraction-process-medium-lithium-grade (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

21 Amarakoon, S. et al. (2013). Application of LCA to Nanoscale Technology: Li-ion Batteries for Electric Vehicles. United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) National Risk Management Research Laboratory EPA’s Office of Research and Development (2013). Available at: https://www.epa.gov/sites/production/files/201401/documents/lithium_batteries_lca.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018)

22 Amarakoon, S. et al. (2013). Application of LCA to Nanoscale Technology: Li-ion Batteries for Electric Vehicles. United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) National Risk Management Research Laboratory EPA’s Office of Research and Development (2013). Available at: https://www.epa.gov/sites/production/files/201401/documents/lithium_batteries_lca.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018)

23 Amarakoon, S. et al. (2013). Application of LCA to Nanoscale Technology: Li-ion Batteries for Electric Vehicles. United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) National Risk Management Research Laboratory EPA’s Office of Research and Development (2013). Available at: https://www.epa.gov/sites/production/files/201401/documents/lithium_batteries_lca.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018)

24 Amarakoon, S. et al. (2013). Application of LCA to Nanoscale Technology: Li-ion Batteries for Electric Vehicles. United States Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) National Risk Management Research Laboratory EPA’s Office of Research and Development (2013). Available at: https://www.epa.gov/sites/production/files/201401/documents/lithium_batteries_lca.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018)

25 Vikström, H. et al . (2013). Lithium availability and future production outlooks. Science Direct 110, pp.252-266. Available at: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.apenergy.2013.04.005 (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

26 Ethan N. Elkind (2014). REUSE AND REPOWER How to Save Money and Clean the Grid with Second-Life Electric Vehicle Batteries. UCLA School of Law’s Emmett Institute on Climate Change and the Environment and UC Berkeley School of Law’s Center for Law, Energy & the Environment. (2018). Available at: https://www.law.berkeley.edu/files/ccelp/Reuse_and_Repower_–_Web_Copy.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

27 Melin, H. (2018). Press release: Recycled lithium to reach 9 per cent of total lithium battery supply in 2025. Circular Energy Storage(2018). Available at: https://circularenergystorage.com/news/2017/11/30/press-release-recycled-lithium-to-reach-9-percent-of-total-lithium-battery-supply-in-2025 (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

28 Lebedeva, N. et al. (2016). Lithium ion battery value chain and related opportunities for Europe. European Commission.(2016) Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/jrc/sites/jrcsh/files/jrc105010_161214_li-ion_battery_value_chain_jrc105010.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

29 Lebedeva, N. et al. (2016). Lithium ion battery value chain and related opportunities for Europe. European Commission (2016) Available at: https://ec.europa.eu/jrc/sites/jrcsh/files/jrc105010_161214_li-ion_battery_value_chain_jrc105010.pdf (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

30 GOV.UK (2017). Future electric vehicle batteries: long-lasting, cleaner, better. GOV.UK (2017).  Available at: https://www.gov.uk/government/news/future-electric-vehicle-batteries-long-lasting-cleaner-better#history (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

31 Nissan. (2018). Clean power energy | Nissan. xStorage by Nissan(2018) Available at: https://www.nissan.co.uk/experience-nissan/electric-vehicle-leadership/xstorage-by-nissan.html (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

32 Sophia Boddenberg (2018). Chile’s lithium – blessing or curse? Made for minds(2018). Available at: https://www.dw.com/en/chiles-lithium-blessing-or-curse/a-43721539 (Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

33 Tarascon, J. (2018). Key challenges in future Li-battery research. Philosophical Transaction of the Royal Society a Mathematical, Physical and Engineering Science(2018). Available at: https://p.dw.com/p/2xRy7(Accessed 26 Jul. 2018).

34 European Commission (2002). EU – Chile Association Agreement. European Commission (2002). Available at: https://eur-lex.europa.eu/resource.html?uri=cellar:f83a503c-fa20-4b3a-9535-f1074175eaf0.0004.02/DOC_2&format=PDF (Accessed 15 Aug.2018).

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Bleak times on and off screen: Contemporary social critique in Nordic noir and narconovelas 2020/09/01/bleak-times-on-and-off-screen-contemporary-social-critique-in-nordic-noir-and-narconovelas/ Tue, 01 Sep 2020 08:30:29 +0000 ?p=15093 Disclaimer

Nordic noir and narconovelas have become very popular TV genres in their respective regions as well as worldwide. Comparing the depiction of the state and society through the narratives and characters in these two types of crime drama allows us to better understand the concerns and challenges each region is facing and to recognise how cultural products can portray and critique social issues in a fictionalised way.

 

Popular crime TV series

Mexico and other Latin American countries have long been known for telenovelas, soap operas that typically feature narratives about family, social ascent and self-sacrificing female characters.1 In recent years, a new genre has emerged from the same foundations but takes a slightly darker turn, as it is set amidst the cartels, crime and violence of the contemporary Mexican ‘war on drugs’. These new TV series, taking drug lords as the protagonists, have been dubbed narconovelas.2

 

Nordic noir is another TV genre with a similarly specific regional context. Coming from the tradition of detective novels, but combining elements of thriller, political drama and noir, the Nordic countries have produced a new type of crime drama.3 Although Nordic noir TV series generally follow the storyline of a detective show, they have a darker tone, resulting from a gloomy cinematography similar to film noir, critique of social problems, and plot twists reminiscent of political thrillers.

 

Both new types of crime drama have become popular beyond their regions, with viewers from around the globe. Netflix has also produced US adaptations of series from both genres, attesting to their international influence and making the series accessible to new audiences. Although Nordic noir and narconovelas are both new and popular types of crime drama, they also have key differences, as they are set in very distinct social contexts and originate from particular backgrounds.

 

This article analyses and compares Nordic noir and narconovelas, focusing on the depiction of the state and society through the narratives and characters to reveal the critical social commentary beneath the entertainment. Comparing these two types of crime dramas can help us better understand the concerns and challenges each region is facing and recognise how popular culture can portray and criticise social realities. The article shows how both narconovelasand Nordic noir point to social injustices in a subtle, non-confrontational way, by including social problems within the setting of entertaining TV shows.

 

Cracks in the Nordic welfare state

 

The Nordic countries consistently top world rankings on quality of life, happiness, freedom, and stability.4 They are perceived as some of the least corrupt countries in the world and have extremely low homicide rates.5 Yet the crime drama series produced in the Nordic countries — Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland and Iceland — paint a very different picture.

 

Nordic noir portrays the countries as gloomy places, far from the paradises the statistics would have us believe. Using cinematographic elements such as “unusual camera placement, heavily subdued lighting and a pronounced use of shadows,” 6 the TV series present their Nordic settings as cold and bleak places where people are alone, unhappy and struggling. Furthermore, rather than simply focusing on how the crimes are solved, as in typical detective stories, Nordic noir also highlights the pain and struggle that characters feel.

 

Nordic noir suggests that beneath the surface of the Nordic welfare states, there is a part of society filled with crime, violence and marginalised people falling through the cracks of the system. Social critique is particularly pronounced in the first season of Bron/Broen, where the perpetrator seeks to gain attention by targeting social issues such as immigration, homelessness and child labour. In other series, even when the murderers do not explicitly point to social inequalities, the detectives uncover social problems at every turn. In Karppi, for example, the murder of a social worker leads detectives to discover shady business deals, drug trafficking and sexual abuse, while in the first season of Forbrydelsen, the brutal rape and murder of a young student is linked to a prominent politician.

 

The transnational nature of contemporary society is also a core aspect of many series in the genre, perhaps most clearly in the Danish-Swedish collaboration Bron/Broen, which begins when the body of a woman cut in half is found in the middle of the Øresund Bridge, the connection between Malmö and Copenhagen.7 The corpse belongs to two different people: the upper half to a Swedish politician and the lower half to a Danish prostitute, bringing together detectives Saga Norén from Sweden and Martin Rohde from Denmark to investigate the crime. The use of real, recognisable places and the inclusion of topical phenomena in Nordic societies today, such as migration, environmental concerns, and new technology makes the misery and gloom portrayed in Nordic noir series more tangible.

 

Indeed, the series exaggerate the social problems found in Nordic societies, but setting them in a recognisable, contemporary Nordic society with enough accurate detail and context makes the shows more believable. Although the Nordic countries generally do well in quality of life rankings and even happiness surveys, the genre depicts the kinds of crime and hardship that could conceivably occur there, particularly in their portrayal of violence against women and social exclusion. Through an exaggerated image of the contemporary Nordic society, the series subtly point to social injustices of the real-life Nordic countries.

 

A broken Mexican state

 

Similar to Nordic noir, narconovelas portray social problems and the weakness of the state in their own regional context. Narconovelas present a state that is not in control of its territory, with corrupt leaders in charge and a police force that does not investigate crime but is complicit in it.8 They depict Mexican society as a violent setting, where drug lords run the show.

 

In El Chapo, a TV series following the life of the infamous drug lord Joaquín Guzmán Loera, the Mexican state creates a pact with drug cartels to redistribute their zones of influence under the condition that they stop violent disputes amongst themselves and continue to give profits to the government. Rather than following the rule of law, the police only seeks to arrest El Chapo after a political decision by the Mexican president. Even then, local officials are presented as self-interested individuals that can be bought to help El Chapo. Violence and murder form part of everyday life in a battle for power.

 

The main characters in narconovelas are drug lords, who are typically portrayed as macho men who always need to be the most powerful and demand respect. For example, in El Señor de los Cielos, Aurelio Casillas is presented as a powerful man with his hat, guns and a muscular body. Or, for El Chapo it is very important to be called  “El Patrón” (The Boss) and he goes to great lengths to achieve this status. In the world of narco, the weak cannot survive.

 

Somewhat less typically, the protagonist in La Reina del Sur is female, Teresa Mendoza. She becomes involved with drug-dealing after her boyfriend is assassinated in Culiacán, a violent city in northwestern Mexico. Teresa has to escape to Spain, where she enters the drug business. The storyline shows another common narrative element in narconovelas: characters who become increasingly engaged in organised crime because they lack other opportunities in society.9

 

Transnationalism is also present in narconovelas, where, similarly to Nordic noir, criminal activity is not limited by national borders, and neighbouring countries’ law enforcement officials cooperate. Drug trafficking is by definition a transnational crime, and drug lords are presented as tricky characters who devise innovative ways to cross borders, whether by digging tunnels, flying airplanes or hiding in the boots of cars.10 The US Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) also plays a part in many series of the genre, pursuing its own interests whether by pressuring the Mexican president or working with local officials.

 

Making social problems visible

 

Both Nordic noir and narconovelas critique the society they are set in, not in an explicit or confrontational way but rather more subtly, by simply making visible the cracks in the systems and the hardship that some people in these societies may experience. Nordic noir presents the state as a functional structure that, despite ensuring public services and a good standard of living for most, has not been able to include some marginalised groups or deal with problems such as sexual and domestic violence. In narconovelas, the state is broken and institutions are corrupt, leaving social problems to be solved by individuals and self-organised groups.

 

These storylines reflect and critique the social realities of their respective regions. In Nordic noir, crimes are mainly perpetrated by individuals with personal motives and resentments, whereas in narconovelas, crimes are mostly executed by organised groups that portray a strong “gang” mentality, who protect their families and members with absolute loyalty, seek revenge and are in constant rivalry with opposite groups. In the Mexican context, the gangs often take the role that the state has in the Nordic context.

 

Both genres demonstrate an intricate and complex depiction of morality and ethics. In narconovelas, the drug lords are presented as the show’s heroes, but they also commit crimes.  In Nordic noir, the main characters are police officers struggling with all sorts of personal problems, are disobeying the law or cheating, and are even committing murder. These nuanced depictions portray both character types such as drug lords and police officers, as human beings, flaws included. They also leave it to the viewers to decide for themselves whether something was morally right or wrong. Furthermore, presenting both police officers and criminals as flawed and emotional, struggling human beings adds to the dark, gloomy depiction of the contemporary society and lends credibility to the subtle social critique.

 

Although both genres criticise the societies they are set in, there are limitations to these critiques. They both mainly focus on violence and ignore some other prominent social issues. For example, narconovelas usually portray stereotypical gender roles, where women are portrayed as one-dimensional characters, whose actions are motivated by their relationship to the male characters.11 Furthermore, while in Nordic noir the gender roles are more equal, the series can still be considered to fetishize the female body, as the crimes portrayed often include sexual violence against women simply to portray the male perpetrator’s evilness and masculine authority.12

 

The societies and the social injustices presented in Nordic noir and narconovelas are distinct due to the different regional contexts of the series; however, in both genres the contemporary social problems of the region are made visible through an exaggerated, crime-filled drama. The backdrop of crime and hardship in a specific contemporary society that is the distinguishing feature of these two genres presents a critique that cuts through the entertaining elements of murder mystery, unexpected plot twists, sex and romance.

 

Beyond fiction

 

Nordic noir and narconovelas are two new types of crime drama, both with very specific regional contexts. Analysing these TV series by focusing on the depiction of the state and society through the narratives and characters has revealed a critical social commentary beneath the initial layer of entertainment. This article has shown how both narconovelas and Nordic noir point to social injustices in a subtle, non-confrontational way by including social problems as the setting of entertaining TV shows. More generally, comparing these two types of crime dramas allows us to better understand the concerns and challenges each region is facing, and recognise how popular culture can reflect and criticise social realities.

References

  1. Franco, D. (2012) Ciudadanos de ficción: discursos y derechos ciudadanos en las telenovelas mexicanas. El caso Alma de Hierro. Comunicación y sociedad, Volume 9 (1): p. 45. Available at:http://www.scielo.org.mx/pdf/comso/n17/n17a3.pdf (access date 26 April 2018).
  2. Volpi, J. (2013) Dispatches from the front: on narconovelas. The Nation. Available at:https://www.thenation.com/article/dispatches-front-narconovelas/ (access date 24 May 2018).
  3. Nordic Noir: The Story of Scandinavian Crime Fiction (2010). [TV programme] 4: BBC.
  4. See e.g. Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development. (2018) Better Life Index. Available at:http://www.oecdbetterlifeindex.org/ (access date 26 April 2018); Numbeo. (2018) Quality of Life index for Country.Available at: https://www.numbeo.com/quality-of-life/rankings_by_country.jsp (access date 26 April 2018); Helliwell, J. et. al. (2018) World Happiness Report 2018. Available at: http://worldhappiness.report/ed/2018/ (access date 26 April 2018); Freedom House. (2018) Freedom in the World 2018: Table of Country Scores. Available at:https://freedomhouse.org/report/freedom-world-2018-table-country-scores (access date 26 April 2018); Fund for Peace. (2018) Fragile States Index. Available at: http://fundforpeace.org/fsi/ (access date 26 April 2018).
  5. See e.g. World Atlas. (2018) Murder Rate by Country. Available at: https://www.worldatlas.com/articles/murder-rates-by-country.html (access date 24 April 2018); Transparency International. (2017) Corruption Perceptions Index 2017. Available at: https://www.transparency.org/news/feature/corruption_perceptions_index_2017 (access date 24 April 2018).
  6. Waade, A. and Jensen P. (2013) Nordic noir production values: The Killing and The Bridge. Academic quarter, Volume 7 (fall): p.191. Available at:http://www.akademiskkvarter.hum.aau.dk/pdf/vol7/13a_AWaadePMJensen_NordicNoir.pdf (access date 26 April 2018).
  7. Åberg, A. (2015) Bridges and Tunnels: Negotiating the National in Transnational Television Drama. In: Gustafsson, T. and Kääpä, P. (eds.) (2015) Nordic Genre Film: Small Nation Film Cultures in the Global Marketplace. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, pp. 91-103.
  8. Vásquez, A. (2015) Narco Series: a new narco-ethics? Voices of Mexico, Issue 100: p. 58. Available at:http://www.revistascisan.unam.mx/Voices/pdfs/10012.pdf (access date 26 April 2018).
  9. Dittmar, V. (2016) Mexico’s narco soap opera do more than just glorify drug trade. Insight Crime. Available at:https://www.insightcrime.org/news/analysis/mexico-narco-soap-operas-do-more-than-just-glorify-drug-trade/(access date 25 May 2018).
  10. United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime. (2018) Drug trafficking. Available at:https://www.unodc.org/unodc/en/drug-trafficking/index.html (access date 26 April 2018).
  11. Tiznado, K. (2017) Narcotelenovelas: la construcción de nuevos estereotipos de mujer en la ficción televisiva de Colombia y México a través del retrato de una realidad social. PhD. Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona, pp. 137-211.
  12. Shaw, K. (2015) ‘Men who hate women’: masculinities, violence and the gender politics of Nordic noir. International Journal of Humanities and Cultural Studies, Volume 2 (3): p. 767. Available at:https://www.ijhcs.com/index.php/ijhcs/article/viewFile/421/418 (access date 28 May 2018).

TV series references

Bron/Broen (2011-2018). [TV series] Sveriges Television and Danmarks Radio.

El Chapo (2017-). [TV series] Univision Studios.

El Señor de los Cielos (2013-2017). [TV series] Telemundo Studios.

Forbrydelsen (2007-2012). [TV series] DR1.

Karppi (2017-). [TV series] Dionysos Films.

La Reina del Sur (2011). [TV series] Telemundo Studios.

 

 

 

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Implementing bilingual education for minorities: Lessons from Ecuador and Germany 2020/08/30/implementing-bilingual-education-for-minorities-lessons-from-ecuador-and-germany/ Sun, 30 Aug 2020 16:00:36 +0000 ?p=15066

Policies to guarantee education in the mother tongue of minorities are put in place around the world. Ecuador and Germany have bilingual schools that use Kichwa and Sorbian, respectively, as languages of instruction. This achievement comes with everyday challenges of implementation that show the need for holistic planning.

 Have you ever imagined starting school in a language you do not know? According to Article 4 of the Declaration on the Rights of Persons belonging to National or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic minorities, it is the states’ responsibility to provide “opportunities […] to have instruction in their mother tongue.”[i] Thereby, governments aim to guarantee the preservation of linguistic diversity and the quality of learning for minority language speakers. In Ecuador, Germany and around the world, this has translated into the implementation of bilingual educational policies, with differing levels of success.[ii] It is worth analysing the obstacles these systems face, especially in terms of key features of teacher training that improved, as well as what new bilingual education policies need to overcome.

 

History of Kichwa yachachikuy

The first article of the Ecuadorian Constitution states that the country is multicultural. Official data from the national census shows that the indigenous population comprises approximately one million people from 14 different indigenous nationalities (see Map 1). From these groups, Kichwa is the largest nationality, with almost half of the total indigenous population, spreading across the highlands and smaller communities in the Amazon region.[iii]

In the Ecuadorian Constitution of 1984, Kichwa was officially recognised as the language of education for regions where a majority of the population speaks it at home.[iv] Furthermore, the Bilingual Intercultural System of Education (SEIB), which is part of the National System of Education, allows indigenous people to learn in their language and in accordance with their cultural views, while promoting Spanish as a language for intercultural communication.[v] [vi] At the beginning stages of formal education in the SEIB, students and teachers use only Kichwa; later, in high school 40% of classes take place in Kichwa and 40% in Spanish, with the final 20% taking place in a foreign language.[vii]

Schools of the SEIB are built in regions with a large indigenous population. The government integrates small rural community schools with Spanish-speaking schools to create larger institutions with better services.  In 2017, 146 thousand students with different backgrounds were assigned to intercultural schools based on the proximity of their homes to the institutions. The curriculum they follow covers the main subjects of the National System and adds specific cultural knowledge as well as language lessons.[viii]

 

History of Sorbian kubłanje

 

Upper and Lower Sorbian are recognised minority languages in Germany.[ix] Nowadays, only about half of the approximately 60,000 Sorbs living in Upper and Lower Lusatia (Saxony/ Brandenburg) are considered active speakers of the endangered Sorbian languages (see Map 2).[x] Federal and international policies protect Sorbian minority rights, such as the preservation of their culture and language. However, the government’s’ policy of ‘economic rationalism’ keeps those aforementioned rights “a blueprint for an idealistic situation,” as outlined by Ted Cichon.[xi]The closure of two Sorbian high schools in Crostwitz and Panschwitz-Kuckau due to insufficient demand exemplifies this. In Crostwitz, the Saxon State Ministry of Education and Cultural Affairs (SMK) closed a school because three of the 20 required enrolments were missing. Although citizens protested and pursued legal actions to claim exceptions granted by policies that protect the Sorb’s rights, the decision was not changed.[xii] In contrast, the Witaj Center for Language and the Sorbian School Association, two institutions with overlapping responsibilities, prevail notwithstanding expert’s critique of dual administrative structures.[xiii]

Whereas Brandenburg has no standardised bilingual educational model, the SMK has implemented the ‘2plus Concept’ for bilingual schools since 2013. In the framework of this project, students learn in German and Sorbian and acquire additional foreign languages (for example, English). Specifically, Sorbian serves as the language of instruction in three bilingually-taught subjects during primary school and five during high school.[xiv] The concept’s underlying idea is to form heterogeneous classes, which are only separated into skill-based subgroups for Sorbian language lessons. The idea builds on the successful Witaj-kindergarten model that provides Sorbian immersive environments for children from all linguistic backgrounds in Lusatia.

In contrast to Ecuador, where Kichwa is mainly used at home,[xv] the services of infant immersion in Sorbian language are important because the generational transmission of the language in Sorbian households, while still frequent in Upper Lusatia, happens only in singular cases in Lower Lusatia.[xvi] This difference can be attributed to historical processes; the Sorbian community suffered from religious and linguistic persecution, especially during the 19th and 20th centuries. The confessional differences are associated with less frequent inheritance of Sorbian in households across the Protestant region of Brandenburg, in comparison to their Catholic counterparts in Saxony.[xvii]The use of Sorbian continues to decrease, but negative perceptions of these communities started to turn with the recognition of Sorbian rights in the German Democratic Republic (GDR) and, particularly, with the German Unification.

Currently, the only explicit statement of the Sorbian communities’ rights is found at the federal level in the constitutions of Saxony and Brandenburg, with no mention at the national level. On the contrary, the Kichwa community has national recognition partly due to the size of the population. Although the amount of indigenous people in Ecuador has determined their inclusion in politics through social mobilisation,[xviii] it also represents a challenge in the regulation of intercultural education and the different languages. In Ecuador, the institutionalisation of indigenous languages, including Kichwa, is still in progress. This process comes with imminent standardisation that erases differences in the language spoken in different regions. For example, Kichwa people in the Amazon region encounter a strange language in bilingual institutions because the words and expressions are not the same as the ones used in their home communities.[xix] Despite the longer history of two institutionalised variations of the Sorbian language, standardisation is still a source of tension in the Sorbian community.[xx] As was briefly described above, bilingual education in Ecuador and Germany is complex in different ways due to the countries’ distinctive features. However, the existence of minorities in these countries and their aim at providing appropriate education is a common concern that is exacerbated by the existence of various minority groups in both.

Qualified teachers are key – and missing!

 

To achieve proper bilingual education, schools depend on skilled professionals who master the language of instruction and adequate teaching methodologies. The obstacles in Germany and Ecuador begin with recruitment. Approximately 100 Sorbian-speaking teachers will retire in Lusatia by 2025; meanwhile, the number of people enrolled in the official Sorbian teacher training numbered approximately 20 in the past couple of years and is decreasing.[xxi] This exacerbates the fact that 30% of the currently employed teachers are not qualified to teach in Sorbian.[xxii] As for Ecuador, 60% of teachers in the bilingual system are Mestizo and often do not speak Kichwa fluently.[xxiii] [xxiv] [xxv]

Linguistic qualification is not the only barrier to teaching additional subjects in a minority language. A survey for bilingual teachers in public schools in Ecuador shows that they are not familiar with the methodologies to use Kichwa exclusively and teach Spanish as a second language. They report that both languages are usually treated as a first language also due to the presence of non-Kichwa students in the same classrooms.[xxvi] To handle the special didactical challenge of teaching students with diverse levels of fluency in the minority language, the ‘2plus Concept’ suggests teaching teams of one German and one Sorbian native speaker per class. What seems effective in terms of handling the students’ heterogeneous linguistic needs, increases the number of (Sorbian) teachers required, in a system with no extra funds for bilingual schools.[xxvii] Another problem for teachers in both countries is the lack of substantiated guidance due to difficult and “almost non-existent”[xxviii] scientific studies to evaluate the bilingual education models.[xxix] [xxx] In response, both countries’ education ministries implemented workshops to reinforce knowledge on methodologies, the bilingual system and its curriculum. Aware of the shortage of qualified teachers, they also promote enrolment in teaching careers among local high school students and other professionals.[xxxi][xxxii]

 

Bottlenecks of higher education

 

 Once a person decides to enter the promoted teacher career, there are limited options due to university entrance exams and scarce institutions with remote locations. In Ecuador, the ‘Ser Bachiller’ assessment is mandatory to achieve a high school diploma; it determines access to public universities and programmes of study.[xxxiii] The exam is only available in Spanish, even for students in the SEIB. In Germany, the ‘Abitur’ exam is available in Sorbian, but only at one Sorbian grammar school per state. Students from other areas can only attend if they enrol in boarding schools.[xxxiv]

Limited supplies of services are also seen in the amount of higher education institutions that prepare for bilingual teaching. In both Germany and Ecuador there is only one public university that offers the specific programme. The University of Leipzig itself lacks qualified lecturers.[xxxv] Therefore, courses designed to prepare future teachers for either Upper or Lower Sorbian separately are joined and held only in Upper Sorbian at the expense of Lower Sorbian speakers.[xxxvi] In Ecuador, the programme of the National University of Education (UNAE) contains some training on pedagogic methodologies but focuses on educational research and project design.[3] Furthermore, the core courses are in Spanish, while Kichwa is merely treated as a subject.[xxxvii] There are also concerns in terms of the geographic accessibility of these institutions. Leipzig is located relatively far from Sorbian areas, limiting the possibilities of practical experience in bilingual schools.[xxxviii] UNAE is located in the southern region of Ecuador, although most indigenous communities settle in the north. However, the availability of the programme online decreases the impact of the distant location.[xxxix]

 

Lessons to learn

 

Around the world, children are still starting school in a language they do not know. Many countries are in the process of putting the rights of linguistic minorities into practice. Even Ecuador and Germany have more minority languages than Kichwa or Sorbian to cover. The above cases analysed, despite of their differences, teach us a lesson on common problems faced when implementing bilingual schools to guarantee education in different mother tongues. Preparedness and the location of teachers and institutions should be treated as prerequisites that cannot be considered merely along the way. To accomplish this, the academic systems must be adapted, and the scientific gap needs to be filled to integrate specialised teacher training courses and bachelor’s degrees. These should consider that the methodology for bilingual and intercultural education is as crucial as the linguistic ability to ensure quality education for heterogeneous groups of students. Keeping the institutions regional creates accessibility and involvement of native speakers to solve their recruitment issues. Foremost, policy makers need to determine the desired impact of minorities’ education. The limited opportunities for minority groups go beyond school premises. Their right to use their mother tongue, for example in academic or professional careers, must be contemplated to ensure that the long-term objectives of bilingual systems are met.

Map 1:

Distribution of (endangered) indigenous languages in Ecuador

© El Telégrafo 

El Telégrafo (2017). Las lenguas en Ecuador, entre la vitalidad y la vulnerabilidad. Cultura. Retrieved from: https://www.eltelegrafo.com.ec/noticias/cultura/7/las-lenguas-en-ecuador-entre-la-vitalidad-y-la-vulnerabilidad (23.02.2018)

Map 2:

Map of Sorbian kindergartens and schools (2017/18)

© Witaj Language Center, directly from institution, contact: jadwiga.kaulfuerstowa@witaj.domowina.de

 

References

 

A publication by the University of Cuenca in 2012 (p. 476) mentions four state technical institutes of pedagogy for intercultural education. However, further research gives no information on their status.

[i] United Nations (1992) Declaration on the Rights of Persons Belonging to National or Ethnic, Religious and Linguistic Minorities. http://www.ohchr.org/EN/ProfessionalInterest/Pages/Minorities.aspx (23 April 2018).

[ii] Bühmann, B. and Trudell, B. (2008) Mother Tongue Matters: Local Language as a Key to Effective Learning. France: United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization.

[iii] Ministerio Coordinador de Patrimonio & UNICEF (2014) Nacionalidades y Pueblos Indígenas, y políticas interculturales en Ecuador: Una mirada desde la Educación. Quito.

[iv] Asamblea Nacional Constituyente (1984) Constitución Política de la República del Ecuador. Artículo 27. Quito.

[v] Asamblea Nacional Constituyente (2008) Constitución Política de la República del Ecuador. Artículo 69. Quito.

[vi] Subsecretaría de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe. Ministerio de Educación (2013) Modelo del Sistema de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe. Quito.

[vii] Subsecretaría de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe. Ministerio de Educación (2013) Modelo del Sistema de Educación Intercultural Bilingüe. Quito.

[viii] Asamblea Nacional (2011) Ley Orgánica de Educación Intercultural. Título Cuarto. Quito.

[ix] European Union (1992) European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages. Strasbourg, (05.11.1992).https://www.coe.int/en/web/conventions/full-list/-/conventions/treaty/148 (21 April 2018).

[x] Another common name is “Wends”. There is no significant difference in meaning but “Sorbs” became more frequently used due to a pejorative connotation of “Wends” in the past. Official documents all include both names or state the intention to actively include all Wends when using the term Sorbs, which is what we chose for this article. They refer to themselves as “serbski” (the “b” is silent). The number is estimated as the avowal to Sorbian identity is voluntary. Ministerium für Wissenschaft, Forschung und Kultur (2017) 1. Bericht der Landesregierung zur Lage des sorbischen/wendischen Volkes im Land Brandenburg. 15. http://www.mwfk.brandenburg.de/media_fast/4055/Landessorbenbericht2017.pdf (25 April 2018). and Staatsregierung Sachsen (2017) Fünfter Bericht der Sächsischen Staatsregierung zur Lage des sorbischen Volkes. http://edas.landtag.sachsen.de/viewer.aspx?dok_nr=11575&dok_art=Drs&leg_per=6&pos_dok=&dok_id=242817 (22 April 2018).

[xi] Cichon, T. (2004) Qualitative Changes in Ethno-Linguistic Status: A Case Study of the Sorbs in Germany. PhD Thesis, Australia: University of Tasmania. 446-447.

[xii] Nuk, J. (2004) Zur aktuellen Situation des sorbischen Schulwesens. DOMOWINA (eds.) (2004) Das sorbische Schulwesen als Minderheitenschulwesen im Kontext europäischer Übereinkommen. Bautzen: Lausitzer Druck- und Verlagshaus, 10-20.

[xiii] Vogt, M. (2012) Empfehlungen zur Stärkung der sorbischen Minderheit. Europäisches Journal für Minderheitenfragen, 5(4): 257, 323.

[xiv] Brezan, B. and Nowak, M. (2016) Sorbian: The Sorbian Language in Education in Germany. Mercator European Research Centre on Multilingualism and Language Learning, 2016: 26-27, 33. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED573644.pdf (24 April 2018).

[xv] Universidad de Cuenca (2012) Sabiduría de la Cultura Kichwa de la Amazonía Ecuatoriana. Serie Sabiduría Amazónica. Cuenca.

[xvi] Brezan, B. and Nowak, M. (2016) Sorbian: The Sorbian Language in Education in Germany. Mercator European Research Centre on Multilingualism and Language Learning, 2016: 5. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED573644.pdf (24 April 2018).

[xvii] Spreng, E. (2011) “Walking the line”: Bilingual Sorbs, Emotions, and the Endangerment in Eastern Germany. PhD Thesis, United States: University of Illinois, 38.

[xviii] Rodríguez, M. (2015) La educación intercultural bilingüe en el Ecuador del Buen Vivir. De la normativización legislativa a la praxis educativa. In: Gómez, S. et al. (eds.) Derechos humanos emergentes y periodismo. Sevilla, 656-692.

[xix] Uzendoski, M. (2009). La textualidad oral Napo Kichwa y las paradojas de la educación bilingüe intercultural en la Amazonía. In: Martínez, C. (ed.) Repensando las identidades y políticas indígenas en América Latina. 147-171.

[xx] Spreng, E. (2011) “Walking the line”: Bilingual Sorbs, Emotions, and the Endangerment in Eastern Germany. PhD Thesis, United States: University of Illinois. 62, 169.

[xxi] Kelch, M. (2016) Neue Maßnahmen für mehr Lehrer an sorbischen Schulen. Online: SMK-Blog (23.08.2016). https://www.bildung.sachsen.de/blog/index.php/2016/08/23/neue-massnahmen-fuer-mehr-lehrer-an-sorbischen-schulen/ (22 April 2018).

[xxii] Nuk, J. (2004) Zur aktuellen Situation des sorbischen Schulwesens. DOMOWINA (eds.) (2004) Das sorbische Schulwesen als Minderheitenschulwesen im Kontext europäischer Übereinkommen. Bautzen: Lausitzer Druck- und Verlagshaus, 17.

[xxiii] Ministerio de Educación (2010) Manual de Metodología de Enseñanza de Lenguas. Quito,

[xxiv] Arellano, A. (2008) Educación Intercultural Bilingüe en el Ecuador. La propuesta educativa y su proceso. Alteridad, November: 64-82.

[xxv] Rodríguez, M. (2015) La educación intercultural bilingüe en el Ecuador del Buen Vivir. De la normativización legislativa a la praxis educativa. In: Gómez, S. et al. (eds.) Derechos humanos emergentes y periodismo. Sevilla, 656-692.

[xxvi] Ministerio de Educación (2010) Manual de Metodología de Enseñanza de Lenguas. Quito, 6-32.

[xxvii] Nuk, J. (2004) Zur aktuellen Situation des sorbischen Schulwesens. DOMOWINA (eds.) (2004) Das sorbische Schulwesen als Minderheitenschulwesen im Kontext europäischer Übereinkommen. Bautzen: Lausitzer Druck- und Verlagshaus, 18.

[xxviii] Stoop, C. (2017) Children’s Rights to Mother-Tongue Education in a Multilingual World: A Comparative Analysis between South Africa and Germany. PER / PELJ, 2017(20): 2-35. http://dx.doi.org/10.17159/1727- 3781/2017/v20i0a820 (12 April 2018).

[xxix] Werner, P. (2015) Sorbische Sprachpolitik im 20./ 21. Jh. und das heutige sorbische Bildungssystem in Sachsen. Online: Witaj Sprachzentrum (2016) https://www.witaj-sprachzentrum.de/wp-content/uploads/sites/3/2016/05/Werner_wiss_Arbeit_Bildungssystem.pdf (25 April 2018).

[xxx] Nuk, J. (2004) Zur aktuellen Situation des sorbischen Schulwesens. DOMOWINA (eds.) (2004) Das sorbische Schulwesen als Minderheitenschulwesen im Kontext europäischer Übereinkommen. Bautzen: Lausitzer Druck- und Verlagshaus, 17.

[xxxi] Ministerio de Educación (2018) Talleres fortalecen la Educación Intercultural Bilingüe en el país. Tena. https://educacion.gob.ec/talleres-fortalecen-la-educacion-intercultural-bilingue-en-el-pais/ (15 April 2018).

[xxxii] Kelch, M. (2016) Neue Maßnahmen für mehr Lehrer an sorbischen Schulen. Online: SMK-Blog (23.08.2016). https://www.bildung.sachsen.de/blog/index.php/2016/08/23/neue-massnahmen-fuer-mehr-lehrer-an-sorbischen-schulen/ (22 April 2018).

[xxxiii] Instituto Nacional de Evaluación Educativa (2017) El examen Ser Bachiller lleva cinco años cambiando y mejorando. http://www.evaluacion.gob.ec/el-examen-ser-bachiller-lleva-cinco-anos-cambiando-y-mejorando/ (23 April 2018).

[xxxiv] Ministerium für Wissenschaft, Forschung und Kultur (2017) 1. Bericht der Landesregierung zur Lage des sorbischen/wendischen Volkes im Land Brandenburg, 48. http://www.mwfk.brandenburg.de/media_fast/4055/Landessorbenbericht2017.pdf (25 April 2018).

[xxxv] Staatsregierung Sachsen (2017) Fünfter Bericht der Sächsischen Staatsregierung zur Lage des sorbischen Volkes, 49-50. http://edas.landtag.sachsen.de/viewer.aspx?dok_nr=11575&dok_art=Drs&leg_per=6&pos_dok=&dok_id=242817 (22 April 2018).

[xxxvi] Brezan, B. and Nowak, M. (2016) Sorbian: The Sorbian Language in Education in Germany. Mercator European Research Centre on Multilingualism and Language Learning 2016: 42. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED573644.pdf (24 April 2018).

[xxxvii] More information about the program: http://www.unae.edu.ec/interculturalbillingue (26 April 2018).

[xxxviii] The vocational training of pre-school/kindergarten teachers takes place in the centre of Lusatia in Bautzen but isn’t ideal either, as 160 hours during the three years course are insufficient for the acquisition of the appropriate language skills for the Witaj immersion model. See:Brezan, B. and Nowak, M. (2016) Sorbian: The Sorbian Language in Education in Germany. Mercator European Research Centre on Multilingualism and Language Learning 2016: 36. https://files.eric.ed.gov/fulltext/ED573644.pdf (24 April 2018).

[xxxix] Ministerio de Educación (2017) Docentes con título de bachiller, técnico y tecnológico podrán acceder a carrera en ciencias de la educación. Quito.  https://educacion.gob.ec/docentes-con-titulo-de-bachiller-tecnico-y-tecnologico-podran-acceder-a-carrera-en-ciencias-de-la-educacion/ (20 April 2018).

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Beyond the culture wars: ‘Gender ideology’ and discourses of homophobia in Latin America, the Caribbean and Europe 2020/08/30/beyond-the-culture-wars-gender-ideology-and-discourses-of-homophobia-in-latin-america-the-caribbean-and-europe/ Sun, 30 Aug 2020 16:00:21 +0000 ?p=15064

Stemming from a belief that what lies behind a new wave of opposition to LGBTQ+ rights goes far beyond simple homophobia, a study of the discourses and counter-discourses of anti-LGBTQ+ movements in relationship to new waves of populism and discontent with globalisation illuminates the broader issues at play, where ideas like ‘gender ideology’ are present.

Discourses of homophobia

In recent years, a new backlash against LGBTQ+ rights has emerged across Europe, Latin America, the Caribbean and other regions. Social conservatives, such as religious groups, have mobilised in opposition to concepts such as ‘gender ideology’, in an attempt to paint LGBTQ+ rights as a nefarious ideology, a foreign imposition, and an attack on the ‘traditional’ family; and by extension, on the nation state. In response, LGBTQ+ Social Movement Organisations (SMOs) and activists alike have adopted new framing strategies to counter these arguments in order to advance sexual minority rights. ‘Framing’ refers to the cognitive and ideational processes whereby mobilising and counter-mobilising ideas and meaning are produced.1 Counter-framing, on the other hand, is defined as the “rhetorical strategies that challenge the original claims or frames.”2 In this article, we examine both discursive and counter-discursive frames of LGBTQ+ rights in Latin America, the Caribbean, and Europe.

A new enemy: Gender ideology

Across Latin America, the Caribbean, Europe and other regions, the term ‘gender ideology’ has been increasingly used by social conservatives to counter advances in women’s and LGBTQ+ rights. In Spain, the ultra-catholic organisation Hazteoír sent buses emblazoned with transphobic slogans warning against the ‘gender ideology’ around several cities. In France, La Manif Pour Tousmobilised people against marriage equality and the teaching of ‘gender theory’ in schools. In Colombia, thousands of people protested against the supposed inclusion of ‘gender ideology’ in school curricula and a plebiscite on an agreement to end the 56-year civil war was narrowly voted down with many people citing the presence of ‘gender ideology’ as a motivating factor. In Brazil protestors greeted gender theorist Judith Butler at a São Paolo amongst cries of “witch” and “paedophile” and decried her “nefarious ideology”.[i]

 

This narrative suggests that ‘gender’ is an ideology along the lines of Nazism or communism, thought up by radical feminists and imposed around the world through international organisations such as the United Nations (UN), or through the education system. In an age where outright declarations of homophobia are restricted by anti-discrimination laws and hate speech legislation, ‘gender ideology’ is a new way for social conservatives to couch their opposition to issues such as marriage equality, improved sex-education in schools or adoption for same sex couples. It plays on fears that positive depictions of LGBT persons run the risk of ‘homosexualising’ society and exhorts ‘natural’ (namely, antiquated) gender roles. Its opponents claim to be acting in defence of the ‘traditional’ family and protecting children from confusing concepts such as gender roles, gender identity or sexual orientation. ‘Gender ideology’ is not lacking in geopolitical undertones. ‘Imposed’ from outside, opponents of ‘gender ideology’ claim to be saving the ‘natural’ family from nefarious foreign influence. This idea that education systems or peace agreements are being ‘colonised’ by Western concepts has a particularly powerful pull in Latin America and the Caribbean.

 

However, rather than seeing these anti-gender mobilisations as an expression of renewed religious fundamentalism, or deep-seated homophobia, we can best understand ‘gender ideology’ to be a kind of ‘symbolic glue,’ a catch-all term that encompasses a wide set of dissatisfactions with (neo)liberal democracy.4 These include: the increased importance of identity politics in relation to material issues; the increased influence of international organisations and the global economy on domestic politics; increased economic instability and ‘precarisation‘; and the detachment of political and economic elites from the rest of the population.5

 

The impacts of globalisation have affected the family unit in particular. Rapid urbanisation often tears families apart as family members move in search of jobs, leaving behind communities and support networks, as well as the disintegration of local culture.6 It is against this backdrop that rallies ‘in defence of the family’ have a particular pull.

 

Anti-gender activists also decry the ‘imposition’ of progressive reforms by organisations such as the European Union (EU) or the UN, calling these reforms ‘ideological colonisation.’ This narrative ignores the tireless work of local activists who struggle for the defence of LGBTQ+ rights. Far from passively accepting policies imposed by the UN or the EU, national governments are often capitulating to the demands of grassroots activists when recognising the rights of their LGBTQ+ populations. This narrative also obscures the complex colonial histories of family and (hetero)sexuality.

 

The role of organisations such as the EU or the UN in promoting LGBT-friendly policies around the world compounds people’s fears over a loss of their ‘authentic’ national culture. One might point out the irony of conservative activists decrying the imposition of ‘foreign’ ideas whilst belonging to international institutions such as the Catholic Church and using imported discursive models. However, the historic links between church and state mean that religious values are often ‘camouflaged’ within national culture, meaning it is easy for religious groups, themselves often being members of international networks, to avoid the accusations of ‘foreignness’ they level at their opponents.7

“Get to know us”: Activist responses

In response, LGBTQ+ grassroots organisations and activists in Latin America, the Caribbean and Europe have devised effective counter-discursive frames to mobilise against conservative factions. A common thread in these frames is a tendency to emphasise the ‘local’ nature of LGBTQ+ rights and people, as well as the diverse scope of discrimination. By doing so, they undermine the narrative that LGBTQ+ rights are ‘externally imposed’, and, at the same time, demonstrate that minority rights are an issue of citizen and human rights, rather than a matter of philosophy.

In the Caribbean, for instance, LGBTQ+ advocates have done this by employing rhetoric that rejects colonialism and imperialism, shedding light on the hypocrisy of defending colonial-era laws in the name of national sovereignty. For example, in 2010, the Executive Director of the Coalition Advocating for Inclusion of Sexual Orientation (CAISO) in Trinidad and Tobago, Colin Robinson, stated:

our nation… [overcame] several forms of domination and repression: Colonialism, that says your land and your decision making do not belong to you. Imperialism, that says your resources do not belong to you… and slavery, that says your body does not belong to you… [as slavery has shown] when your body does not belong to you, neither do [sic] your sexuality nor your reproduction- they belong to master.8

Furthermore, the 2013 video campaign “We are Jamaicans” launched by the Jamaican Forum for Lesbians, All Sexuals and Gays (J-FLAG) is another example of the ‘indigenous’ discursive frames used by LGBTQ+ advocates to counter anti-LGBTQ narratives. The videos are uploaded to You Tube for mass dissemination and highlights the “Jamaikaners” of LGBTQ+ persons who share their experiences living on the island and their perspectives about LGBTQ+ human rights.8 In one of the videos, Ricardo McKenzie begins by stating “I am Jamaican. Jamaica is my home, but I don’t feel very Jamaican, because I am gay.”10 The organisation, thus, sends the message that LGBTQ+ people in Jamaica are also citizens, “they are not different,” and therefore they deserve “respect,” including rights and protection, as every other citizen.

Similarly, in Poland, LGBTQ+ SMOs have also deployed autochthonous-centred approaches in mobilising against anti-LGBTQ rhetoric. The Kampania Przeciw Homofobii (Campaign Against Homophobia, KPM), developed an initiative in 2003 called “I am gay. I am lesbian. Get to know us”, whereby members of the gay and lesbian community and human rights activists were invited to speak with students in universities throughout the country.11 In the 2000s, lesbian and gay SMOs in Poland also organised marches, using language such as ‘equality’ and ‘tolerance’ as the names of their parades, underscoring that gay and lesbian rights in Poland were a human rights issue.

In Latin America, LGBTQ+ groups have adopted a similar position. In Uruguay, for instance, La Oveja Negra (The Black Sheep) shifted its emphasis from identity politics to a discourse, which accentuated the diversity of Uruguayan society to lobby for same-sex civil unions. Opponents of the same-sex union bill argued that it would bring an end to the ‘traditional family’, inferring that there was one type of family in Uruguay. In response, lobbyists for LGBTQ+ rights adopted language such as ‘social justice’ and ‘equality’, which not only appealed to a wide cross-section of society, including feminist groups, students, workers’ movements and progressive political parties, but also effectively undermined the ‘social homogenisation’ narrative used against same-sex civil union rights.

In this sense, the discursive counter-frames employed by LGBTQ+ organisations in Europe, Latin America and the Caribbean converge in many ways. In all three territories, LGBTQ+ SMOs have responded to the ‘gender ideology’ and ‘foreign imposition’ narratives, which are used to deride LGBTQ+ rights, by showing that neither LGBTQ+ rights nor people are ‘foreign.’ Moreover, through the deployment of ‘indigenous-rooted’ discursive frames they have shown that LGBTQ+ people are very much citizens, and therefore the provision of rights and protections for LGBTQ+ people is a matter of human and citizens’ rights.

Beyond the culture clash

Successful discursive strategies must therefore avoid a ‘clash of cultures’ narrative, which locates LGBT+ rights in a particular geographical space (somewhere in “the West”), a particular intellectual context (universities inhabited by queer theorists) and a particular point in time (a progressive future utopia). The struggle for women’s and LGBTQ+ equality is far from over, even in those countries that are deemed most progressive. It is incorrect to characterise the West as an oasis of equality, something activists in these areas should be very clear on. At the same time, LGBTQ+ activists must also bear in mind that in many places the battle for the secular state is not completely won. An emotive, value-laden discourse could therefore be more successful than the dry, technical language often used by progressives. LGBTQ+ activists have tended to focus only on the positive aspects of modernisation, which has granted greater freedoms, rather than taking a mixed approach, which recognises the strains of fragmentation,‘precariousness‘ and rapid urbanisation.12 As a result, progressive politics are associated with a prioritisation of identity politics over material redistribution. In the future, useful counter-discourses might therefore consider a re-centring of redistributive projects in the framing of LGBTQ+ issues, which should stop conservatives from being able to blame ‘gender ideology’ for the increasingly fragmented social order and declining power of the nation state in the age of globalisation.

 

References

  1. Benford, R and Snow, D. (2000) Framing Process and Social Movements – An Overview and Assessment Annual Review of Sociology 26:611-639.
  2. Benford, R.D. and Hunt, S. (2003), cited in Ayoub, P & Chetaille, A. (2017) ‘Movement/ Countermovement interaction and instrumental framing in a multi-level world: rooting Polish Lesbian and Gay Activism’ Social Movement Studies https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14742837.2017.1338941 (30 May 2018)
  3. See https://www.insidehighered.com/news/2017/11/13/judith-butler-discusses-being-burned-effigy-and-protested-brazil
  4. Grzebalska, W et al. 2017. Gender as symbolic glue: how ‘gender’ became an umbrella term for the rejection of the (neo)liberal order. Political Critique. http://politicalcritique.org/long-read/2017/gender-as-symbolic-glue-how-gender-became-an-umbrella-term-for-the-rejection-of-the-neoliberal-order/ (30 May 2018).
  5. Ibid
  6. Butler, J.(2006)  Born Again: The Christian Right Globalized. London: Pluto Press, 32.
  7. Ibid
  8. CAISO (2010) Sexual rights: protection of sexuality as something good, natural, precious, essential – at the core of human expression…human freedom…human community. https://gspottt.wordpress.com/ 2010/03/23/sexual-rights-at-the-core-of-human-freedom/ (30 May 2018).
  9. JFLAG (N/d) We are Jamaicans: Telling the story of LGBT people and allies. http://jflag.org/tag/we-are-jamaican/ (30 May 2018).
  10. We are Jamaicans (2013) We are Jamaicans – Ricardo Mackenzie. https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=oOM1p_lWTqY&t=23s(30 May 2018).
  11. 10Ayoub, P & Chetaille, A. (2017) ‘Movement/Countermovement interaction and instrumental framing in a multi-level world: rooting Polish Lesbian and Gay Activism’ Social Movement Studies https:// www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14742837.2017.1338941(30 May 2018)
  1. Ibid

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