October 22, 2015
BUENOS AIRES â€" In contrast with her fellow Latin American friends and allies â€" presidents Rafael Correa of Ecuador, Nicolás Maduro in Venezuela, Bolivia"s Evo Morales, Nicaragua"s Daniel Ortega â€" Cristina Fernández de Kirchner cannot immediately run for another presidential term. And without the "less-than-democratic" mechanisms those leaders use to hold onto power, there is no assurance her preferred candidate will win the upcoming election in Argentina to succeed her.
As it happens, the ruling party's candidate, Daniel Scioli, is nonetheless leading the polls, even if he was only reluctantly accepted as the candidate of the Victory Front â€" a coalition backing the Peronists or Justicialists, who include Kirchner's most radical supporters and close family members with their own political ambitions. Peronism is a political movement that aims to carry on the legacy of former Argentine leaders Juan Domingo and Eva Peron, mixing social justice and state paternalism.
What is not known is whether Scioli will win outright in the first round (needing 45% of votes or just over 40% but being 10 points ahead of the runner-up) or if he will have to contend in a second round.
He already reportedly has the support of Pope Francis, whose "Peronist" tendencies are practically a certainty and who has made no secret of his personal inclination in favor of Kirchner. As the Argentine historian Juan José Sebreli observed in Spain's El País, "the Pope is now backing Scioli." The historian qualified the candidate as an "obedient man" whom the Kirchner coterie had "turned into a rag." Would that be to clean up after them?
A second-round victory over Scioli by the center-right candidate Mauricio Macri, who is currently second in the pre-election polls, seems a tall order. For he would not be able to count on the votes of supporters of another of the candidates, Sergio Massa, the "dissident" Peronist.
Cristina Kirchner and Daniel Scioli back in 2013 â€" Photo: Patricio Murphy/ZUMA
Massa, a disciple of former free-market President Carlos Menem in the 1990s, could do better in a second round, able to count on Macri's votes. His challenge is to qualify for the head-to-head, since he is currently third in the polls.
Meanwhile, amid the jockeying of candidates, ordinary Argentines are anxious about what will come after the elections, and economic indicators show serious uncertainty from the business community. As they say in the badlands of Río de la Plata, best to "unsaddle" until the dust settles ...
The three main candidates have vowed not to devalue the peso â€" something the business sector and exporters in particular have been asking for. Wine producers insist it is the only way to inject some life into the economy. Some economists have observed that a devaluation would help balance the budget and reduce expenditures consisting in large part of excess subsidies and electoral "donations."
Devaluation would be the beginning of change: breaking with the past, starting to make Kirchner pay for her policies â€" and effectively destroying her legacy.
That would not be easy for Scioli, but not impossible either. He is in any case less likely to approach his presidency as a means to continue the Kirchner "regime," in spite of many efforts by her supporters to surround and contain him.
It is even less likely that Scioli will devote himself to "safekeeping" Cristina K"s presidential seat, so she could return in the 2019 elections, as some analysts suggest, and as her diehard supporters no doubt hope.
Scioli, maintaining his typical "casual" style, will act in line with his own interests, which would logically include his own reelection.
So if he does indeed win, he will not be attacking Cristina, but instead will try and quietly distance himself from her, govern well and avoid clashes with allies and opponents alike. In the end, he would govern according to his own criteria. No, it seems, his harshest critics are wrong: Daniel Scioli is nobody's rag.
The oldest newspaper in Colombia, El Espectador was founded in 1887. The national daily newspaper has historically taken a firm stance against drug trafficking and in defense of freedom of the press. In 1986, the director of El Espectador was assassinated by gunmen hired by Pablo Escobar. The majority share-holder of the paper is Julio Mario Santo Domingo, a Colombian businessman named by Forbes magazine as one of the wealthiest men in the world in 2011.
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The confinement experience could turn brutal for those forced to live with relatives who would not tolerate a member of the family living their sexual orientation openly as a young adult. Here are stories from urban and rural India.
October 19, 2021
Abhijith had been working as a radio jockey in the southern Indian city of Thiruvananthapuram when the COVID-19 pandemic hit in March, 2020. When the government imposed a nationwide lockdown, Abhijith returned to the rural Pathanamthitta district , where his parents live with an extended family, including uncles, cousins and grandparents.
Eighteen months later, he recalled that the experience was "unbearable" because he had to live with homophobic relatives. "Apart from the frequent reference to my sexual 'abnormality', they took me to a guruji to 'cure' me," Abhijith recalled. "He gave me something to eat, which made me throw up. The guru assured me that I was throwing up whatever 'demon' was possessing me and 'making' me gay."
Early in 2021, Abhijith travelled back to Thiruvananthapuram, where he found support from the members of the queer collective.
Inspired by their work, he also decided to work towards uplifting the queer community. "I wish no one else goes through the mental trauma I have endured," said Abhijit.
Abhijith's story of mental distress arising from family abuse turns out to be all too common among members of India's LGBTQ+ community, many of whom were trapped in their homes and removed from peer support groups during the pandemic.
Oppressive home situations
As India continues to reel from a pandemic that has claimed more lives (235,524) in three months of the second wave (April-June 2021) than in the one year before that (162,960 deaths in March 2020-March 2021), the LGBTQ community has faced myriad problems. Sexual minorities have historically suffered from mainstream prejudice and the pandemic has aggravated socio-economic inequalities, instigated family and institutionalized abuse, apart from limiting access to essential care. This has resulted in acute mental distress which has overwhelmed queer support infrastructure across the country.
Speaking to queer collective representatives across India, I learned that the heightened levels of distress in the community was due to longstanding factors that were triggered under lockdown conditions. Family members who are intolerant of marginalized sexual identities, often tagging their orientation as a "disorder" or "just a phase", have always featured among the main perpetrators of subtle and overt forms of violence towards queer, trans and homosexual people.
Calls from lesbians and trans men to prevent forced marriages during lockdowns.
Sappho For Equality, a Kolkata-based feminist organization that works for the rights of sexually marginalized women and trans men, recorded a similar trend. Early in the first wave, the organization realized that the existing helpline number was getting overwhelmed with distress calls. It added a second helpline number. The comparative figures indicate a 13-fold jump in numbers: from 290 calls in April 2019-March 20 to 3,940 calls in April 2020-May 2021.
"Most of the calls we have been getting from lesbians and trans men are urgent appeals to prevent forced marriages during lockdowns," said Shreosi, a Sappho member and peer support provider. "If they happen to resist, they are either evicted or forced to flee home. But where to house them? There aren't so many shelters, and ours is at full capacity."
Shreosi says that the nature of distress calls has also changed. "Earlier people would call in for long-term help, such as professional mental health support. But during the pandemic, it has changed to immediate requests to rescue from oppressive home situations. Often, they will speak in whispers so that the parents can't hear."
Lack of spaces
Like many of his fellow queer community members, life for Sumit P., a 30-year-old gay man from Mumbai, has taken a turn for the worse. The lockdown has led to the loss of safe spaces and prolonged residence at home.
"It has been a really difficult time since the beginning of the lockdown. I am suffering from a lot of mental stress since I cannot freely express myself at home. Even while making a call, I have to check my surroundings to see if anybody is there. If I try to go out, my family demands an explanation. I feel suffocated," he said.
The pandemic has forced some queer people to come out
Sumit is also dealing with a risk that has hit the community harder than others – unemployment and income shortage. He's opened a cafe with two other queer friends, which is now running into losses. For others, pandemic-induced job losses have forced queer persons from all over the country to return to their home states and move in with their families who've turned abusive during this long period of confinement.
Lockdowns force coming out
According to Kolkata-based physician, filmmaker and gay rights activist Tirthankar Guha Thakurata, the pandemic has forced some queer people to come out, succumbing to rising discomfort and pressure exerted by homophobic families.
"In most cases, family relations sour when a person reveals their identity. But many do not flee home. They find a breathing space or 'space out' in their workspaces. In the absence of these spaces, mental problems rose significantly," he said.
Not being able to express themselves freely in front of parents who are hostile, intolerant and often address transgender persons by their deadname or misgender them has created situations of severe distress, suicidal thoughts and self-harm.
Psychiatrist and queer feminist activist Ranjita Biswas (she/they) cites an incident. A gender-nonconforming person died under suspicious circumstances just days after leaving their peer group and going home to their birth parents. The final rites were performed with them dressed in bangles and a saree.
"When a member of our community asked their mother why she chose a saree for someone who had worn androgynous clothes all their life, she plainly said it was natural because after all, the deceased 'was her daughter,'" Biswas recalls.
The Indian queer mental health support infrastructure, already compromised with historical prejudice, is now struggling
In India, queer people's access to professional mental healthcare has been "very limited," according to community members such as Ankan Biswas, India's first transgender lawyer who has been working with the Human Rights Law Network in West Bengal.
"A large majority of the psychiatrists still consider homosexuality as a disorder and practice 'correctional therapy'. It's only around the big cities that some queer-friendly psychiatrists can be found," Biswas said. "The pandemic has further widened the inequalities in access to mental health support for India's LGBTQ community."
Biswas is spending anxious days fielding an overwhelming amount of calls and rescue requests from queer members trapped in their homes, undergoing mental, verbal and even physical torture. "We don't have the space, I just tell them to wait and bear it a little longer," he said.
Medical care is dismal
Anuradha Krishnan's story, though not involving birth family, outlines how the lack of physical support spaces have affected India's queer population. Abandoned by her birth family when she came out to them as a trans woman in 2017, Anuradha Krishnan (she/they), founder of Queerythm in Kerala who is studying dentistry, had to move into an accommodation with four other persons.
Isolation triggered my depression
"I am used to talking and hanging around with friends. Isolation triggered my depression and I had to seek psychiatric help." Living in cramped quarters did not help with quarantine requirements and all of them tested positive during the first wave.
What is deeply worrying is that the Indian queer mental health support infrastructure, already compromised with historical prejudice, is now struggling, placing more and more pressure on queer collectives and peer support groups whose resources are wearing thin.
During the 10 months of the first wave of the pandemic in India in 2020, Y'all, a queer collective based in Manipur, received about 1,000 distress calls on their helpline number from LGBTQ+ individuals. In May 2021 alone, they received 450 such calls (including texts and WhatsApp messages) indicating a telling escalation in the number of queer people seeking help during the second wave.
As India's queer-friendly mental health support infrastructure continues to be tested, Y'all founder, Sadam Hanjabam, a gay man, says, "Honestly, we are struggling to handle such a large number of calls, it is so overwhelming. We are also dealing with our own anxieties. We are burning out."
Sreemanti Sengupta is a freelance writer, poet, and media studies lecturer based in Kolkata.
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