What it's really like to be a human rights defender

Y Quynh Bdap, a Vietnamese activist from the persecuted Montagnard ethnic group, was charged by Vietnamese authorities with terrorism pertaining to an attack on government buildings in 2023. Bdap, the co-founder of Montagnards Stand for Justice, has been seeking asylum in neighboring Thailand since 2018; many believe the charge he faces is false. Meanwhile, the Vietnamese government has requested Thailand facilitate his extradition, but human rights organization Manushya Foundation warns that if this happens, there’s a high risk of ill-treatment. He is currently awaiting an extradition hearing at a detention center in Bangkok. Bdap is not alone in facing severe risks as a result of his human rights work. A search of the Front Line Defenders directory of human rights defenders, or HRDs, and the words “sentenced,” “abducted,” or “killed” sits in red above numerous images of defenders. These are just some of the occupational hazards associated with working in the human rights space, and things are only getting worse, experts say. “It’s increasingly more dangerous and risky to be a HRD,” said Geneva-based Maria Dahle, director of the Human Rights House Foundation. Authoritarian regimes are on the rise and, with them, a concerted effort to silence dissenters, many of whom are NGO workers and activists working to protect and advocate for democracy, land rights, equality, or environmental protection. “They are often seen as a threat to political leadership that is not in support of openness, transparency, pluralism, or dissenting voices,” Dahle said. In 2023, at least 300 HRDs were killed. In the majority of cases, the main threat to HRDs is posed by the state. So prevalent are the risks for HRDs that the United Nations Human Rights Office for Southeast Asia in Bangkok has launched a Human Rights Defenders School Programme, which covers physical and digital security training while the Asian HRDs portal, managed by Asian Forum for Human Rights and Development, or FORUM-ASIA, provides guidelines on how to manage risks while logging all reported violations in the region. Speaking to Devex, HRDs shared what it’s really like to be on the front lines of human rights work. The threats have been normalized Whether it be judicial or physical attacks, hacking or doxxing, arrests or torture, the threats HRDs face have become normalized in a way they wouldn’t be for other professions, said Benny Agus Prima, manager of the HRD program at FORUM-ASIA. Defenders themselves “are not making this a big thing anymore,” he said, while outside of the space it is almost expected that those who choose to fight for freedom of expression or the right to vote, for example, experience some level of jeopardy. “[HRDs] are often seen as a threat to political leadership that is not in support of openness, transparency, pluralism, or dissenting voices.” --— Maria Dahle, director, Human Rights House Foundation Chit Seng, human rights associate at Fortify Rights’ Myanmar team, always has a getaway bag packed despite now being based in Bangkok. She had to flee Myanmar following the 2021 military coup when her work as a fixer for investigative journalists became untenable. “As a Myanmar national, not just a HRD in this current climate, the biggest hurdle is security and protection,” she said, sharing that even out of the country she has been surveilled by the Myanmar military. Defenders are often seen as “resilient” and “bullet-proof,” said Agus Prima, who has been a defender of rights across Asia for over a decade and has a background in law. But he said the reality is that HRDs are still people and endure stress. Secondary trauma is common among HRDs, said Seng, who has physical distance from Myanmar’s bloody civil war, which is taking place less than two hours’ drive away, but still works with activists in the country’s Kachin state, documenting atrocity crimes. “They might think we’re very strong but we’re in this work because we’re emotional beings,” she said. Different backgrounds, same stigma Many wrongly assume that working in the human rights space requires a background in law, journalism, or with a nongovernmental organization, Agus Prima said. But human rights activism doesn’t necessarily require set qualifications. Farmers, for example, protesting against mining in Iran or herders in Mongolia protesting pig farm construction would be considered HRDs. “Anyone can be a HRD as long as they’re defending their rights or other people’s rights,” he added. It is, however, common for HRDs to have first-hand experience of a breach of human rights. “There will have been a defining event that made them speak up,” Agus Prima said. Mary Aileen Diez-Bacalso, executive director of FORUM-ASIA, is one such example. She has worked on human rights in the Philippines since the 1980s, beginning as a student activist with her husband. When he was forcibly disappeared and tortured before being released after eight days, wrongly accused of being involved with the Communist Party of the Philippines, she set about supporting families of those who had been permanently forcibly disappeared. Since the 1970s, 2,300 people are believed to have disappeared because of their political views in the Philippines. “That was the situation that prompted us to move to the capital where we worked in different NGOs,” Diez-Bacalso told Devex. “I consider the crusade against enforced disappearance as my personal crusade, my personal advocacy.” At the same time, HRDs are often stigmatized within communities either because people are too afraid to be associated with them or because they’ve been a victim of a smear campaign in an attempt to silence them. It’s not unusual, said Agus Prima, for defenders to be labeled “troublemakers” or “terrorists” and then encounter harassment from both state and non-state actors. “I don't have any regrets that I chose the path to human rights advocacy. ... At the end of your life, you will just assess what you have done, not just for yourself, but for humanity.” --— Mary Aileen Diez-Bacalso, executive director, FORUM-ASIA Being labeled this way can affect a person's ability to live freely and separate work from their personal life. It can, for example, impact where they live, the information they can share online, and the schools their children go to. The U.N. special rapporteur on freedom of peaceful assembly and of association, Gina Romero, is currently working on a report on the repercussions of stigmatization. Eva Zillén, CEO of women’s rights NGO Kvinna till Kvinna Foundation, said that in a survey her organization conducted, many HRDs shared that there is a constant tug of war between knowing that doing the work is right and the negative impacts it can have on family members. “You are getting a lot of hatred, especially if you are in a smaller place and have nowhere to hide,” she said. ‘High risk, high gain’ Amid all of the dangers, HRDs are constantly having to advocate for issues, protect communities, and fight legal battles with limited resources. As it stands, only 4% of the U.N.’s funds go toward human rights work. Funding is limited and shrinking, Zillén said. “There needs to be funds for HRDs to do their work for democracy’s sake,” she said. Additionally, many people fighting for human rights come from a less privileged background, Agus Prima said. But what the sector lacks in resources it makes up for in community and solidarity, he added. Forums, online campaigns, and events keep people working in this space connected. For example, the Milk Tea Alliance is a youth-led online movement formed by HRDs across Southeast Asia to support a regional push for democracy. “If you want to do this work, it is hard work and if you don’t have people you can laugh with, like to work with, and debate with, you will not survive because it’s a tough job,” Zillén said. Despite all the challenges, the work yields great rewards, said all interviewees. “The term ‘high risk, high gain’ is applicable,” Agus Prima said. While human rights advocacy is challenging and risky work, “it's also morally gratifying,” agreed Diez-Bacalso. “I don't have any regrets that I chose the path to human rights advocacy despite the many challenges, the risks entailed, because it's more gratifying. At the end of your life, you will just assess what you have done, not just for yourself, but for humanity.” For Seng, her work in documenting war crimes absolves the guilt she sometimes feels about what is happening in her country, and she takes solace in knowing she is contributing to the fight for democracy. “Even if people are not paying attention right now, all the work we are doing will be fruitful one day.”