Balata Refugee Camp

Today, I visited Balata Refugee camp, which is the largest refugee camp in the West Bank, home to 25,000 refugees, some who have been there since it was created in 1953. With 75% of Balata's refugee population under 18-years-old, there are numerous programs for children and youth.

In Witness in Palestine, Anna Baltzer writes: "Balata sees more violence and incursions than most other places in Palestine, which is evident as you walk through the camp. There are bullet holes in every house, school, and store. The children are tougher than those in other Palestinian communities, and their parents are more suspicious. But the barrier is easily broken with a little Arabic and indication of solidarity" (p.47).

Their resilience is illustrated in the colorful graffitti marking the concrete walls around the camp: "Boycott Israel, Free Palestine," and "Love Palestine, Hate Racism, 1 People, 1 World!" The alleys between the UN-constructed 4-story buildings were tiny – just a few feet across, windows into dark rooms facing each other, so everything said in one house is heard in the next.

Naqba Photo Exhibit in Nablus

Nablus hosted a photo exhibit to com- memorate 62 years since Al-Naqba, or "The Catastro- phe". After a variety of partition plans, even proposals to transfer the Palestinian Arab population, on November 29, 1947, the UN General Assembly approved a partition plan - Resolution 181. Although Jewish people owned 6.5% of Palestinian land in private or collective property holdings, the Jewish state was awarded 56.5% of the territory of Palestine, and the Arab state was awarded 42.9% in the UN partition plan. Thus began the Arab-Israeli war, which brought independence for Israel and "catastrophe' for Palestinians. At the start of the 1948 war, 940,000 Palestinians lived in what was to become Israel. By the end of the war, 150,000 Palestinians remained in areas under Israeli control. Though israeli prime minister David Ben-Gurion frequently said, "Israel did not expel a single Arab," it is clear that many were forced to leave by Israeli military units.

Al-Naqba Anniversary in Nablus

I am now in beautiful Nablus, nestled between Mount Ebal to the north and Mount Gerizim to the south. Today, Friday, is a day of rest, so I spent the day catching up on reading and writing. Walking the empty streets, I notice relics of the city's violent past: some windows punctured with bullets and streets lined with peeling posters of Palestinian martyrs. Contrary to the Western media's depiction, every person killed in the conflict (whether a combatant or a civilian) receives a tribute poster. Nablus was the focus of repeated Israeli incursions during the second Intifada (meaning "shaking off"), when Israeli planes, tanks, and bulldozers targeted the city, killing dozens of civilians and damaging or destroying about 700 buildings. In fact, today is Yom Ha'Atzmaut (Independence Day in Israel) or Al-Naqba ("The Catastrophe" in Palestine), and to remind the city's inhabitants, the Israeli military flew several planes over the city in the morning, breaking the sound barrier. I can see the Israeli army has set up posts in the mountains surrounding the city, and often Palestinians in Nablus will tell me that they always feel as if "we being watched by Israel". During my first evening here, a gentleman sent a plate of fruit to my dinner table and introduced himself as Professor Sa'ed Jamal Abu Hijleh, a Palestinian poet/human geographer/political science professor/radio host/bogger. I don't usually accept fruit from strangers, but I trusted my instincts, and Sa'ed has become a great resource here in Nablus. Despite his exuberant activism, Professor Sa'ed Jamal Abu Hiljeh became extremely emotional when he started to tell me when his mother was killed by Israeli soldiers. In 2002, the 61-year-old grandmother was sitting on her front porch embroidering, when Israeli soldiers opened fire upon them killing her and injuring her husband. There is a memorial website for her here.

Amman to Nablus via the King Hussein/Allenby Bridge Border Crossing

Amman is only about 200k from Nablus, but, due to the numerous checkpoints and security features installed by Israel, it me took over 9 hours to get here. I catalogued my border crossing, entering Israel from Jordan via the King Hussein/Allenby Bridge border crossing:

- Drive 100K from Amman to Jordan-Israel border (1 hour)

- Taxi drop off on Jordan side of the border

- Walk about 2K (with luggage) to bus depot

- Give luggage to Jordanian official to be X-rayed; retrieve luggage

- Give passport to Israeli official

- Pay 5JD ($7.50); get on bus

- Get passport with Jordanian exit stamp

- Depart on bus; drive about 5K through the Jordan Valley, passing through several military checkpoints (30 minutes)

- Get off bus at Allenby Bridge Crossing; walk past fierce-looking man dressed in jeans and T-shirt, carrying large semi-automatic weapon

- Give luggage and passport to Israeli official

- Wait in line to get passport back

- Wait in line to get passport checked

- Wait in line to get personal belongings X-rayed

- Walk through metal detector

- Wait in line for passport control; answer questions; forfeit passport

- Fill out personal information form; wait in passenger waiting area (2 hours)

- Meet with Israeli official; answer more questions (15 minutes)

- Wait in passenger waiting area (1 hour)

- Meet with Israeli military officer; answer more questions (15 minutes)

- Wait in passenger waiting area (1 hour)

- Get called by Israeli official to retrieve passport; exit passenger waiting area

- Give passport to Israeli official; get another sticker on passport

- Retrieve luggage

- Exit Allenby Bridge Crossing Point

I took a bus from the border to Jericho (the world's oldest continuously inhabited city, settled 10,000 years ago) and then took a shared taxi through Ramallah and onwards to Nablus. The driver, (a surly young man who got into a fight with an elderly passenger and then a Palestinian Authority official), took a circuitous route to avoid the military checkpoints, so the journey took twice as long. But the drive was fascinating. Rising from Jericho into the hills, I could see one of the West Bank's largest and most contentious Israeli settlements, Ma'ale Adumim, which sprawls atop the hills slipping eastwards down from Jerusalem. It achieved official Israeli city status in 1991, and is home to over 30,000 settlers who live there illegally (according to international bodies) on Palestinian land. Palestinians claim that Israel's plan for Ma'ale Adumim's continual expansion is to ensure an 'outer ring' of Israeli settlements that will have the effect of isolating East Jerusalem from Jericho, and eventually the north West Bank form the south, cutting the entire West Bank in half.

On the short drive to Nablus, I didn't expect to see so many settlements, and I tried to write down as many names as I could (while losing a battle of window roll-up/roll-down with my driver): Rimmonim, Ma'ele Efrayim, Qusra, Migdallim, and Gav Hahar. They rose up like green oases - with maroon-tiled houses in the middle - amidst the hilly desert landscape. There are 187,000 Israeli settlers currently living in more than 100 settlements in the West Bank, with around another 177,000 in Palestinian East Jerusalem. One of the issues that I would like to explore more is the issue of settler violence, as there have been reports of settlers attacking Palestinian children on their way to school and destroying families livelihoods (e.g., farms and olive groves), which obviously has short- and long-term impacts on children and families. In fact, last week, Israeli settlers were accused of burning down a mosque in Luban al Sharqiya, near Nablus.

Street Kids in Amman

I have arrived in Amman, before heading into the West Bank to begin some preliminary research. When I was touristing around, I sat down under a park bench to relax and regroup. I was instantly seized upon by about 6 young street kids, none of whom spoke English. We tried communicating in mime and using my Lonely Planet glossary. One of them brought me a Pepsi, which became the only word we could communicate to each other. (And wouldn't Pepsi just LOVE that!) When I offered to pay for the Pepsi, they refused the money. I asked (in Arabic) where the Citadel was, and they pointed in the direction of a large hill. I took off, only to feel the presence of someone following me. Hakim and Ibrahim (two of the kids) decided to accompany me to make sure I got there OK. They shuttled me through side streets, alleys, and markets pointing out things on the streets and telling me their arabic names (fish=maki...I think). When we got to the tourist depot, I again offered money for their time, and they shrugged me off. I think that they would have gone all the way to the top of the Citidel with me, but they knew how steep it was, how hot it was, and how uncomfortable it was going to be. They were smart to avoid the near sunstroke I had when I reached the top. I was happy for SPF70 sunblock and conservative Islamic rules mandating that I cover most of my body, or else I would have been covered in sunburn.

Methods of Policy Analysis

Dror (1984) calls policymaking “a very presumptuous activity” (p.13). Though the same might be said about research. In comparing the two activities, Edwards (2005) describes the “uneasy relationship” between research and policymaking. Whereas policymakers believe that research doesn’t concern itself with issues that are relevant to the lived realities of the studied populations and is often “driven by ideology” masked as intellectual inquiry, researchers believe that there is a lack of government interest in research and that there are roadblocks put in place by policymakers to make research more difficult to carry out. Furthermore, Edwards describes a general anti-intellectualism embraced by policymakers, in that they are wary about critical analysis because it could make certain policies embarrassing or irrelevant. Similarly, researchers note that there is a lack of incentives for researchers to create policy-relevant research. To Edwards (2005), all of this bickering illustrates two distinct cultures, but more significantly, two distinct ways of communicating.

Stone (as cited in Edwards, 2005) outlines twelve perspectives that encompass the many reasons that there is a gap between research and policy. Though all of Stone’s supply side, demand side, and socio-cultural factors are insightful and accurate, the ones that I see as being the most striking are:

• Comprehension: Researchers don’t understand what the policy process is and how research fits into the policy process.
• Communication: Researchers don’t have the adequate tools to convey messages about their research to policymakers.
• Anti-intellectualism in government: Government ideology is driven by an inherent distrust in using pure science to base policy decisions.
• Politicization of research: Researchers and policymakers are not viewed as being objective, but rather present information and/or make decisions based on ideology.

Dror’s (1984) concept of “fuzzy gambling” challenges some of these above factors, with policymaking being a process of unknowable, and constantly changing “rules of the game” (p.15). There is an assumption that research is a yes/no or true/false process. But, Dror (1984) suggests that it is more of a “multi-valued” logic. By viewing research and policymaking through this lens, research and policymaking become more open to dialogue between one another, because they understand that it’s not an all-or-nothing process.

Building upon the policy gambling perspective, Dror (1984) suggests that policy scientists broaden their methodologies, including methodologies “capable of handling irreducible uncertainty, including qualitative uncertainty with inability to specify qualitatively main alternative possible futures” (p.16). Social workers work with qualitative data all the time, in listening to clients’ situations and when conveying these situations through advocacy efforts in attempts to persuade colleagues and government bodies. Edwards (2005) mentions a valuable qualitative methodology, which bridges research and policy: the case study. Edwards notes: “To determine more systematically what works when, there and how, ideally calls for case studies designed to illustrate the diverse ways in which research can connect to policy” (p. 71). Qualitative research methods are an important addition to the policymakers’ toolbox, for they can persuade and convince in a way that quantitative data alone cannot. For example, the United Nation’s Office of the Special Representative of the Secretary General for Children in Armed Conflict has been consistently monitoring the six grave violations (killing and maiming of children; recruitment and use of child soldiers; rape and other forms of sexual violence against children; abduction of children; attacks against schools and hospitals; denial of humanitarian access to children) against children during armed conflict. In the gathering of evidence, the UN has solely relied upon qualitative data, which has made quite an impact on the depth of the problem. Nevertheless, the scope of the problem has yet to be understood, and therefore, efforts are being made to supplement the qualitative data with quantitative methods, both of which provide breadth and depth.

Perhaps the divide between research and policy is not so dichotomous. Aren’t researchers always asking themselves, How can our work be relevant and useful? Or is this an idealistic or naïve perspective of research? As a humanist science, social work researchers should be constantly thinking about their work’s impact on practice and policy. For example, I worked as the program manager for the Care and Protection of Children in Crisis-Affected Countries (CPC) Initiative (www.cpclearningnetwork.org), which sought to create a global network of researchers, practitioners, and policymakers to collaborate on research projects to develop new methodologies for child protection in crisis-affected settings. This culminated in the Child Protection Action Summit, which gathered these figures for a four-day meeting to discuss ways that international child protection research could be relevant to policy, and vice versa. Edwards (2005) notes that even though the literature may suggest that if researchers and policymakers work closely together then there should be good policy outcomes, this might not be true in all circumstances, because there are multiple factors at play. For what didn’t work with CPC was what Edwards noted was most important for the success of bridging the divide. She notes: “The degree to which research influences policy often depends on individuals building relationships of mutual trust and respect, rather than on an ongoing and sustained discourse between governments and researchers” (p.73). CPC conducted the Child Protection Summit, holding conversations with the goal of creating common research priorities. However, over one year later, these conversations are no longer taking place. Meetings are currently happening with researchers and practitioners determining the research agenda, with policymakers at the receiving line of research several years after the major decisions have been made. Why can’t we include policymakers in the “ongoing and sustained discourse”, starting from the research proposal and moving forward? We know that it shouldn’t be such a dichotomy, but rather a partnership. Nevertheless, we still don’t know how to effectively bridge the divide for effective partnerships between research and policy.

Sources:

Dror, Y. (1984). Perspectives on public policy: On becoming more of a policy scientist. Policy Studies Review, 4(1), 13-21.

Edwards, M. (2005). Social science research and public policy: Narrowing the divide. Australian Journal of Public Administration, 64(1), 68-74.

Whither the Welfare State?

There are several paradoxes in the historical debate among social policy circles. One example is the historical development of the “good society”. “Good society” arose in conjunction with women’s shifting gender roles (Esping-Andersen, 1990b). Whereas modernization signified that women were afforded much more choice in terms of career and life, this also resulted in increased risk, as there was a marked increase in unstable households and family arrangements. This represents one of many paradoxes that the welfare state brings up.

An additional paradox is the increasing emphasis on skilled workers, which is reminiscent of social policies such as Canada’s immigration laws, which favor workers with professional skills. On the other hand, the last century (and since the writing of both of Esping-Andersen’s articles) has seen an increase in low-end, low-skill jobs. This mismatch of demand and social policy creates a paradox in that the ideal does not match the reality. This is illustrated by in the recent global economic crisis, which hasn’t been seen since the 1930s. Reflecting the countless narratives of laid-off workers over the past year, Esping-Andersen’s (1990b) words foretold of this predicament: “Those with insufficient skills or cultural and social resources may easily slide into a life course marked by low pay, unemployment, and precarious jobs” (p.2).

The idea that class no longer matters, or rather, “class may be less visible” (Esping-Andersen, 1990b) brings to mind Ulrich Beck’s theory of risk society, which was also proposed in the 1990s. Beck (1992) suggested that class is no longer an adequate way to structure and view society. He claimed that the consequences of human actions as a function of modernity and industrialization (much like Esping-Andersen’s (1990b) “structural transformation”) have introduced a wide array of risks and uncertainties, which exacerbates the risk of the everyday. This is another paradox, as the risks of today’s modern society are generated by the very methods of modernization that are trying to control them. In this way, the traditional certainties and securities of the pre-modern society can no longer be relied upon. This reflects the “great ironical twist of historical change” (Esping-Andersen, 1990b), in that the structural transformation of modernization that social policy addresses also necessitates social policy.

In further outlining the historical development of “good society”, Esping-Andersen (1990b) discusses the role of the libertarian and neo-liberal call for social reform. Their proposition suggested that big government and excessive regulation were to blame to “social segmentation and the reproduction of poverty” (p. 4). This seems counter-intuitive, as big government oftentimes creates more social programs and policies in attempts to address social inequalities and ills. Likewise, today, the libertarian model embraces a platform that condemns big government and excessive regulation. And like today, they failed to gain public support for their vision of “good society”, as many viewed it as too radical. Their efforts were not all for naught, however, as the seeds for Britain’s “Third Way” were planted. The “Third Way” was able to take the best aspects of the libertarian and neo-liberal “Good Society” platform and combined it with the right place and the right time (Esping-Andersen, 1990b).

Here arises yet another paradox. How can one welfare state be a model for another state, when there are so many variables and confounders to consider? For no two welfare states are alike. It’s impossible to compare, because they are different on so many levels. Esping-Andersen (1990a) notes that when scholars have attempted to compare welfare state variations, for example, “relevant measures of working-class mobilization or economic openness are not included” (p.19). Another case in point is when we assume that spending counts equally, but in reality, “expenditures are epiphenomenal to the theoretical substance of welfare states” (p.19). In his discussion of the effects of globalization on the welfare state, DeHann (nd) also proposes that globalization changes the composition of states, and average trends in poverty reduction and inequalities are inadequate for comparison. It is fascinating to suggest that the process of linearly comparing welfare states is not effective. There must be a way to compare components of welfare states, rather than welfare states as a whole. How can we best overhaul this system of evaluating what works and what doesn’t work when addressing the welfare of states and the people within those states?

Perhaps, we should be focusing on known and proven long-term outcomes, rather than side-by-side comparisons of isolated variables. Esping-Andersen (1990b) notes that life chances are dependant upon investment in learning abilities and accumulation of human capital. For example, early childhood and development (ECD) programs make a strong case that investments in ECD lead to improved outcomes in cognitive development and educational attainment. There is also an argument for investing in the future, with policies implemented with young children, with the effects felt generationally. In looking at long-term outcomes, we might better understand the true impact of social welfare, and make a stronger case for its continued support. Furthermore, social welfare should be expanded to include wider definitions of poverty. Poverty shouldn’t just include fiscal outcomes, such individuals living below the poverty line. Rather there should be consideration for people who are at risk of poverty, due to lack of education, low skills, and decreased access to human capital. If there was more attention paid to broader definitions poverty to include at-risk populations, we might not have seen such devastating impacts of the financial crisis on individuals and families.

Sources:

Beck, U. (1992). Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity. London: Sage Publications.

DeHann. (nd). Globalization, inequality, and the demise of the state? From DeHann, Reclaiming

Social Policy.

Esping-Andersen, G. (1990a). The three political economies of the welfare state. From G.

Esping-Andersen, The Three Political Economies of the Welfare State.

Esping-Andersen, G. (1990b). Towards the good society, once again? From G. Esping-Andersen,

Three Worlds of Welfare Capitalism. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.