One way street sign - rights revoked

RIGHTS REVOKED: Human rights don’t always follow a one-way evolutionary path

Last updated: March 26th, 2019

Recently, the Canadian government tabled new legislation that would overhaul Canada’s current electoral system. The proposed “Fair Election Act” is a massive Bill that included some troubling plans that, if enacted, would seriously undermine voting rights (and, ironically, voting fairness) in Canada. For example, under current electoral practice, voters can use voting information cards as I.D. They can also “vouch” for the identity of another voter, meaning that if you have no fixed address, or no government-issued I.D., you can still vote if someone can confirm your identity. Revoking that right, and insisting on current address I.D., would mean taking voting opportunities away from students living away from home and from those who are already pretty disenfranchised—the homeless and those who live in remote communities. The legislation also contained the sketchy proposal that incumbents, or their political parties, should appoint polling supervisors in their own ridings, instead of neutral elections officers (a proposal in which nothing could possibly go wrong, ever). It also put forward some alarming loopholes to political spending as well as restrictions to the kinds of information the Chief Electoral Officer can give to the public.

Unintentionally, the Bill worked as a lesson in participatory politics. Immediately after the Act was tabled, one online petition to stop it garnered more than 46,000 signatures in a single day, with protests scheduled in major cities across the nation. The outpouring of concern prompted the ruling Conservative party to scale back on the most contentious proposed reforms, although even their compromises leave much to be desired. They’re currently thinking of allowing voters to “vouch” for another person’s address, although I.D. is still required. Which is fine, unless you don’t have any. And then, I guess you just don’t vote? It’s a small percentage of the population, but it’s a specific percentage, too—overwhelmingly poor and aboriginal. It’s never an accident when a particular group finds itself more disenfranchised than it was, and regardless of how a right is revoked, it’s a big deal when it happens. It certainly was when African American voting rights were quietly and gradually rescinded after they were granted in 1869.

We tend to think of the history of human rights as being evolutionary, like a one-way street that started in a super-sketchy area of town and is now moving through safer and progressively more beautiful neighbourhoods until, with luck, in some ideal future it will pop us out in a festooned market square where, without discrimination, we will finally stand in respectful solidarity around the fount of justice. Which will, one hopes, supply us all with a well-deserved beer. Once a right is gained, or a harmful practice banned, we tend to think that that’s it—there’s no going back. Restrictions on people’s liberties, discrimination and targeted oppressions seem to belong to old-timey days, back with the loom and the cutlass. Without constant civic participation, however, we lose the ability to shape the future along progressive lines and it can end up looking an awful lot like that dubious crack corner we thought we’d just hurried past.

We can’t legislate our officials from being sneaky, and it’s sometimes alarmingly easy for politicians to take rights away with a minimal fuss. Often, it’s done in such a way that the loss of a right or freedom is only discovered when it’s too late to do anything about it. On May 22, 2013, Afghanistan’s lower parliamentary house approved the removal of a law that required a quarter of district and provisional council seats be awarded to women. The amendment had been quietly added by conservative male members before the final draft went before parliament and other members had no idea it was there. They assumed that the document they were signing was identical to the document that they had been presented with before. The presidency intervened and “compromised” by decreasing women’s representation to 20 percent.

Back in Canada, the same government that brought us the Fair Elections Act also snuck through something called the Public Sector Equitable Compensation Act as part of the 2009 budget. It prohibits women in the public sector from claiming pay equity violations with the Canadian Human Rights Commission, even though equity is guaranteed under the Canadian Human Rights Act. Instead, they have to direct complaints with the Public Service Labour Relations Board, which must take “market forces” into account in their determination. Women must also approach the Board without union support. A union found to be encouraging women to file complaints face a $50, 000 fine. Unlike the case with the Fair Elections Act, the level of concern was simply not great enough to make the government reverse its position. Now a right theoretically already won must be fought for again, alone, at a bargaining table.

Rights backslide all the time. They mostly backslide when we’re not reading the fine print, or when we’re not troubled enough to do anything about what’s happening. A little activity in the present, however, is much easier than having to re-fight old battles once regressive legislation is made law. Once disenfranchised, we approach the fight for human rights with a lot less ammunition and a lot less power. Again, African American voting history is instructive: without the right to vote and stand in elections, there was no real way for African Americans to prevent segregation laws, or the abuses therein. Human rights are multidirectional, with endless ways to move forward, back and sideways. Keeping an eye on what’s opening up in front of us is the only way to make sure we don’t give up anything we’ve already gained.


 image: Steve Snodgrass (Creative Commons BY)

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *