Eurovisie April 2023

a publication of the study association for european studies

eurovisie Fury On The Horizion

4 - A TALE OF TWO CITIES NATHAN DOMON

7 - THE DARK SIDE OF VOLUNTEERING YAEL PLESS

10 - WOKE-WASHING JADE PAUW

14 - UNLEARNING IMPERIALISM WITH IMPERIALIST TOOLS EMILIA JUCHNO

17 - LI-ION BATTERIES AND THEIR PREYS

STIJN HOOGVOORST

Imprint

Editorial office: Kloveniersburgwal 48, room E2.04/2.05, 1012 CX Amsterdam

Editor-in-chief: Órlaith Roe

Editors: Annelie Ní Dhálaigh, Nathan Domon, Julius Sieburgh, Órlaith Roe, Emilia

Juchno, Renata Rîmbu, Irina Petrescu, Yael

Pless, Stijn Hoogvorst, Vincent Lubach, Fernando De Freitas, Anna Hatzius Sarramona, Jade Pauw.

Design: Irina Petrescu

Editorial

Órlaith Ní Ruaidh

Dear reader,

Many of our editions this year have been celebratory in nature, reaching toward our hopefulness and optimism. While we have also published scathing critiques and takedowns of the mighty and powerful, we have remained pulsing forward with light.

And so let me be clear: this edition is putting subtleties aside for a moment, and pulsing toward a different kind of light. Fury. Injustice. Looting. In directed ferocity, this concise edition is exposing modern looting, in whatever form our writers see fit, and calling a spade a spade.

Yael uncovers the dark truths of volunteering, and lays bare the privileged and hollow realities of modern-day giving back, exposing the involvement of Europe and many others in the White Saviour Complex. In a rapidly growing industry and soon-to-be global issue, Stijn tackles the increasingly worrisome landscape of electric vehicles and lithium, making clear that there is a new kind of mining war on the horizon.

Emilia highlights the grave importance of education, learning, and unlearning, of colonial histories through the lens of existing theory, and pushes us to face uncomfortable truths. In a world of rapid gentrification and class separations, Nathan takes aim at elitist urbanisation and the problems that the modern European city faces, and what it must do to prevent an irreversible divide. And in her first article for Eurovisie, Jade unleashes on the shallow nature of corporate activism, and exposes the hypocritical landscape of companies and their relationship to activism. It poses the question; can corporations ever truly engage in meaningful social change? Read on and tell us for yourself.

Our comments on voluntourism, modern looting, unlearning, creative gentrification, and faux-wokeness are by no means perfect. But they contribute to the chorus of other people across the globe who are angry, upset, and hungry for change. Keep the faith, I say, but sprinkle in some fire.

Reader, rage on.

Furiously, Órlaith Ní Ruaidh.

A Tale of Two Cities On exploitation in the creative city

Nathan Domon

The European city is changing. Once untamed and neglected, it has become a polished place that pulsates with innovation and creativity. A new haven awash with avant-garde creative clusters, visionary co-working spaces, shiny museums, and cutting-edge tech hubs. Everywhere you look, trendy coffee places, neo-bohemian boutiques, and shabby-chic art venues spring up like mushrooms, promising a glamorous and exciting future.

This is the tale of the creative city. A magic land where artists, knowledge workers, professional-managerial class, and science and tech workers have congregated over the last 20 years, drawn by the romantic-utopian promise of cultural vibrancy and creativity. Local authorities, urban planners, and city marketers went out of their way to accelerate this influx, based on the argument that only the most “hip and happening” cities would survive in the post-industrial era. As manufacturing moved offshore and factories shut down, collars faded from blue to white, with creativity as the shining beacon on the horizon; it became synonymous with economic growth, urban regeneration, and innovation. It was seen as a powerful magnet for start-ups, global investors, and high-end tourists – all with deep pockets. Art and culture were transformed into mere commodities that could be used to stimulate the city and quickly fell into the hands of real estate, tourism, and economic development. From

junk to art and then on to commodities, creativity has become the new religion in the European city.

Under the auspices of local policymakers, cities across Europe have been tamed, cleaned, and turned into a custom-made playground for the creative class. But its shine is wearing off; however inclusive it may sound, this urban renewal has relatively few winners and many losers. It might have led to economic prosperity, brought vibrant diversity, and increased well-being for the already rich, but it made it harder for ordinary people to live a decent life.

desirables to make place for the high-educated urbanites.

With rental prices hitting the roof, small businesses have been replaced by sanitized and romantically refashioned places to cater to the standards of the creative class, transforming entire neighborhoods into homogenized urban enclaves made of up-andcoming businesses and expensive concept restaurants. This class purification has created new hubs of precarity in the city fringes, cleaning the city center from the un-

A new reserve army of workers is now providing services upon which the lifestyle of the creatives depends. Who dry cleans their white collars? Mops the floor of co-working spaces and hip coffee places at night? Prepares their overpriced sandwiches? Cleans up the parks where they go jogging? Delivers groceries within 15 minutes to their doors? Takes care of their aging parents? Drives them to parties on Saturday night and serves them hangover food on Sunday? This workforce is mostly made of ordinary people undertaking jobs that nobody wants – minimum wage, flexible, part-time, non-unionized, precarious, to make ends meet in a city that does not want them. These are people living in the suburbs, often commuting for a long time to go to work. They may be previous residents of the city center, pushed away by increasing costs, or they may be migrants trying to find a place in the city. The hewers of wood and drawers of water provide essential services – often invisible, always indispensable, and still undervalued – allowing the creative class to thrive. This is the new class divide of the post-industrial era: the brutal exploitation of compliant Orwellian proles to guarantee the lifestyle of the well-off urbanites and make the glowing creative city run smoothly.

“Creative workers have driven up the cost of living, pushing working-class residents to the least desirable parts of the city, the shabby suburbs, with longer commutes and fewer amenities.”

The exploitation of one class upon

the other is not new. What is new is the growing invisibility, the symbolic exclusion, the alienation of the working-class residents in the creative city. The city not only used to provide them with stable jobs and affordable housing but also a strong sense of community. Possibilities for meeting each other – intentionally or not– exchanging ideas, and blending into the atmosphere of the city were plentiful. There were entire working-class neighborhoods with a strong sense of belonging and pride, where people felt at home and could experience, innovate, and create. A breeding ground for cross-pollination of ideas. True creativity. However, today, the workforce army is largely invisible, fragmented, alienated. The influx of creatives has eroded the community spirit, with everyday life becoming extremely individualist and based on leisure consumption, with infrastructure, amenities, and investments that fetish high-tech, knowledge-based, and creative content industries. A process of urban homogenization, where one set of activities and consumption catered to a specific group ends up pushing out the others. The result is an inevitable loss of identity and diversity. A placelessness, a feeling of estrangement and alienation.

Most working-class residents will acknowledge that the city has improved in the creative age; streets are now well-lit, parks are clean, neighborhoods are safe, and the range of restaurants, shops, entertainment, and cultural activities has never been more diverse. But it is no longer their city.

The European city used to be a place for everyone. But the rise of the creative city has brought a “winner-take-all” form of urbanism, a frictionless world where a small group of people can move seamlessly without too much trouble, to the point that they forget that people had to perform labor to make it possible. A gleaming world that sold its soul to gentrification to please a few while excluding and exploiting many. But a city is only as good as the people that live in it. Any city that pursues the creative hype above all risks is not a city for everyone and risks becoming moribund in the long term. This is the paradox: by trying to be revived at all costs, the city may well lose its soul for good.

The Dark Side of Volunteering

Does the “White Saviour Complex” exploit developing countries?

Yael Pless

How many of you have thought about wanting to give back to the less fortunate, and wanted to balance the scales of our privilege? When we realise that clean water, sufficient food and a roof overhead are the greatest dreams of some people, many of us feel inclined to take action. I would be lying if I said I had not surfed the web years ago in high school in the quest for an organisation with which I could travel to a country in need. There I would spend a few weeks building schools and teaching English, and I would go back home with my conscience clear, and a good deed for humanity checked off that year’s to-do list. There is no question about it, nothing is wrong with wanting to do good in an unequal world. Evidence of suffering can be found in every corner - just one YouTube video about the exploitation of child labour in Bangladesh later and tears begin to well up in my eyes while my brain scrambles for ideas on how we can mitigate the endless struggles in developing countries. However, volunteering to genuinely help others has rapidly become voluntourism, and the simple intention to make a difference in the world is distorted until its impacts are barely recognisable as stemming from a desire to aid.

Statistics show that in the EU, between 92 and 94 million people

are involved in volunteering. While this figure primarily refers to those who volunteer within their own country, 11% volunteer in other parts of the world. Oftentimes, students in high school aiming to apply to competitive universities are encouraged to volunteer to prove on paper their passion and work ethic.

them on a volunteer trip, surrounded by smiling children or in front of the project they worked on.

Therefore, for the purpose of this article, the term will be adjusted to “saviour complex”, as the term refers to those of privilege - something that transcends race. In general, the idea is that those who are more privileged feel the imbalance of prosperity and want to create a positive change, in this example by going to developing countries and offering their aid. Many are willing to pay thousands for elaborate volunteering experiences. Owing to their financial advantage, they typically receive more favourable accommodation, food, travel, and security than those they are attempting to help will ever have. “Luxury” volunteering experiences put the well-being of the volunteers above the standard of living of those less fortunate from the get-go. I would argue the entire experience ultimately serves the ones helping more than those in need - is this not paradoxical? Yet, this is far from being the only issue.

Rather, I would like to shed light on common motivations behind volunteering and suggest why others would benefit more if we acted with increased thoughtfulness.

The so-called “White Saviour Complex” is understood to mean the desire of white individuals to “save” others. Of course, it is safe to say there are plenty of exceptions to who the “saviour” and “saved” are in terms of race.

Volunteering that stems from a “saviour complex” can result in harmful practices in a developing country. For example, when the “saviour” possesses the belief that they know how to approach the issues best because they come from a more developed country. Owing to this, there is a tendency to apply - or even impose - Western values and practices to places where they may be incompatible with existing ones and

“It is not rare these days to see social media posts where someone has uploaded pictures of

I do not aim to imply that these examples are bad or fuelled by malintent.”

are unsustainable long-term. While this may be well-intentioned, it is usually borne from a feeling of frustration when volunteers feel a culture shock upon arrival in a new place and the urge to “fix” what they perceive as wrong. In reality, cultural or social differences are simply different from what one is used to, not inferior. Naturally, solving the issues of poverty, hunger, access to clean water and safety are concerns that need attention and could be accelerated by financing and support from abroad. However, would it not be more beneficial to give locals who live their struggle daily a bigger platform to actually voice what they need? Instead, volunteer work is often based on our assessment of the weaknesses in developing countries and assumptions of what we believe may be necessary.

A further point of concern is that young adults who volunteer are often unqualified. They are enticed to do work that is advertised to them by catering exactly to common emotional concerns. Seventeen or eighteen-year-olds, no matter the motivation or eagerness to learn, are often unable to build infrastructure properly or teach at schools. Unfortunately, there have been reports of instances where young volunteers were involved in building projects such as libraries and owing to their inexperience, the site had to be torn down and rebuilt at night by workers from the town while the teens were asleep. Arguably, these tasks would be an excellent opportunity for a trained teacher or builder, respectively. Also, when considering volunteering it is vital to research a prospective country’s culture, economy, and socio-political situation. Finally, volunteers must look at the demand for the service they may be qualified to provide to ensure that they are not taking jobs away from local workers. Se-

riously contemplating these matters could lay the foundation for a long-lasting, positive impact.

“Considering all of this, you can ask yourself: would you let a high school student build your house or vaccinate your child? If not, why are we encouraging them to put their insufficient skills to use at the risk of those living in poverty?”

A final example of the dark sides to volunteering is the infamous “orphanage tourism”. It may come as a surprise, but a large number of children living in orphanages in developing countries have at least one living parent. Some have been given away as a means to escape poverty because perhaps the parents cannot care for the child and hope it can live a better life elsewhere. Others are trafficked to add to the number of children present because of the donations and attention these orphanages receive from abroad. The unfortunate reality of orphanage tourism is that while eager volunteers visit and feel their hearts warm at the prospect that they are helping children who live forlorn lives, the kids can develop severe attachment issues due to the constant changes around them. To add to this, a sense of abandonment gets reinforced every time a new wave of volunteers leaves. For many, this feeling is already painfully present because they have been deserted or taken from their families in ill faith. It is important to take a moment to remember how impressionable children are, and that those in orphanages are not animals in a zoo. Particularly for those at a young age, turbulent emotional

changes pose a threat to emotional, social, and cognitive development. Is it worth supporting such cycles and the frequently damaging conditions in orphanages in the name of “saving” communities, when if truth be told, it only adds more fuel to the fire?

When done with proper research and genuine support (not organisations that simply pocket donations), volunteer work can have astounding results. Countless countries, independent organisations, and individuals are willing to put forward the funds needed to make a difference - what matters is that it lands in the right hands. Then, for an impact to be made, there need to be people willing to make a change. As we have seen, the “saviour complex” can be traced back to an eagerness to contribute. However, we must ensure that we do not disrupt and inadvertently exploit situations in developing countries to somehow clear our conscience or subconsciously feel heroic. Humility is key - we cannot single-handedly change the world in two weeks, only to return to our privileged lives. Rather, it is absolutely crucial to give those that need assistance a voice and a platform to communicate what they think is best for their towns and communities. Our interventions cannot be fuelled by what we think is best, backed by the goal of Westernization. Instead, let us understand those in need by how they define themselves. Finally, we should remember that we can positively impact our world by contributing on a small scale every day. Making a mark does not have to be a hasty retreat in Nepal one click away on a persuasive commercial volunteer website. Instead, I urge you to brighten someone’s day and pay it forward with consistent acts of kindness and compassion every day.

Woke-Washing On the Difficulties and Possibilities of Corporate Activism

Jade Pauw

Every year around International Women’s Day, dozens of companies express their support of female emancipation through advertising and branding. Great—until one looks more deeply into the practice. Last year, fast-fashion brand SHEIN posted an inspirational image about women’s day on their instagram with the caption “We celebrate all women on International Women’s Day and every day! #SHEinPower.” The comments were livid, and rightfully so; most of the brand’s clothes are produced in sweatshops where workers, including women, work 75-hour weeks for predatory pay-rates. Emancipation certainly does not extend to them.

Cases like these seem to proliferate in an age where companies are feeling the increased social concerns of a shifting consumer demographic. Yet, despite their best efforts, the public is growing sceptical. This has led to the emergence of the term ‘woke-washing’, alongside several online articles advising companies on how to avoid being labelled with it. A discussion of this term and the dangers/possibilities of corporate activism seems in order.

To start off, this article does not refer to woke-washing as a critique of the representation of social inequality or injustice. Rather, it uses this term as an article in The Guardian coined it in 2019. Following this definition, it refers to how companies exploit social causes in their advertising or branding to appeal to a wider public. Like green-washing, it indicates that this activism is often shallow, doesn’t follow words with action, and ‘washes clean’ the company’s public image while diverting attention from actual malpractice and injustice.

Companies showing an interest in social concerns is not inherently a bad thing. With their broad economic reach, influence, and visibility, they have the power to shift the public’s attention for the better. Advertising, scholarly publications claim, is a “key area of cultural production” which has highly persuasive powers capable of steering public behaviour and

opinion. It also indicates that companies are, even if it’s only on a surface level, thinking about ethics. This is a positive shift in a world which often values economics over human well-being.

One still has good reason to be cynical about profit-seeking conglomerates suddenly showing concern about matters going against their traditional rationales.

There is also the chance of concrete activism contributing little to actual social change. An example is the shoe-brand TOMS, which for each pair of shoes a customer bought, donated a pair to children in Africa. This ended up changing little for said children, and even hurt the local economy. Other sources for critique are companies vouching for justice while continuing to support injustice on and outside of the workfloor. Illustrative is Nike, which has repeatedly advertised its support of the Black Lives Matter movement and women’s emancipation. Controversially, it did this while facing accusations of poor working conditions in sweatshops and toxic attitudes toward women on the workfloor. Companies can thus profit by exploiting social causes, often leaving in place exactly those relations they ‘critique’.

The discussion becomes more intricate when social activism in advertisement is viewed in terms of representation. This refers to the practice of presenting an image of something through text, visuals or other media. It matters because such depictions contribute to how we think about the featured phenomenon, and whether we think about it at all. It can allow for oppressed voices to be heard and validate their experiences. Furthermore, it can contribute

“There are plenty of cases like SHEIN’s where symbolic action is not followed by physical deeds, leaving the activism superficial.”

both positively and negatively to the production of stereotypes, which in turn may influence how we treat others and affect longterm structural change.

Engaging in fair representation as a company is difficult. There is the obvious and often occurring problem of misrepresentation, where the issue is either completely misinterpreted or presented as less serious than it really is. Pepsi’s controversial 2017 ad, which was accused of trivialising the Black Lives Matter movement, is a famous example. Representation in advertising may also connect the issue with consumerism, creating the idea that consuming a product affects structural change. The problem is made light of, which can inspire ‘clicktivism’; the feeling that we’ve done our bit by buying the product. Real change, in this scenario, is debatable.

There is also what feminist academic Linda Alcoff calls ‘the problem of speaking for others.’ In the act of speaking for or about another, the differences in social location of the speaker and those spoken for will affect the meaning of the message. The issue might therefore be that companies speak from a wildly different social environment than activists do. They occupy a more powerful discursive position than oppressed peoples, which the public can be aware of. People are also likely to associate corporate messages in the light of their (economic) activities and character. The message will therefore be communicated to the public in a specific way, but will also uphold power-structures that it might intend to revert by not letting the oppressed speak.

Luckily, Alcoff provides a solution. Companies should listen and speak to, rather than speak for, those represented. They should

engage in conversation, evaluate their own discursive position against that of those they represent, and assess the social environment in which the message is to be released. More self-reflection and cooperation, then, and perhaps also transparency about this toward consumers. This would greatly reduce the risk of misrepresentation, while giving the public more reason to be less sceptical about corporate activism.

Additionally, anthropological museums have dealt with the same question as big companies; how can we navigate a society with increasing concerns about social equality? Their findings complement Alcoff’s solution. Collaboration is useful but also difficult, and requires careful conduct from companies. As mentioned earlier, they hold more symbolic and real power than members of oppressed communities do. When engaging in conversation, a company should therefore practise ‘radical trust’, which proposes a sharing of authority during the collaboration-process. If not, there is a great chance that the activists will be overruled by company staff during debates.

This feeds into another, final point; collaboration should lead to an end-result which is mutually beneficial, rather than exploitative. Companies often have their own goals and ideas when including activism in their branding, but how do these compare to the needs and wishes of those they wish to help? Even if a company translates words into deeds, as TOMS did, is it fulfilling an actual need? During the process of collaboration, corporations should temporarily abandon their personal agendas in order to look at those of others.

Social activism and oppressed communities should not, in short, be exploited as a resource. If a company wishes to combine ethics with economics, it should structure it like any mutually-beneficial business deal.

Can companies become social activists? If they follow the proper procedures, there certainly is a chance. Through self-reflection, equal collaboration and fitting action representative advertising may no longer incite as much criticism as it does now. This process will of course be more costly and time-consuming than slapping a #BLM on your coke bottle, but it will actively work on a shift in power-relations, which if we must believe today’s commercials, was the goal all along.

“They should not assume that simple representation is equal to the profit they will make from the collaboration.”

Unlearning Imperialism with Imperialist Tools

A comment on Ariella Aïsha Azoulay’s ”Potential History: Unlearning Imperialism”

Emilia Juchno

In November 2022, for the first time in history, a government-funded British institution - the Horniman Museum in London - decided to hand artefacts looted by the British colonial forces back to their country of origin. The first objects that were handed to Prof. Abba Tijani, the director general of Nigeria’s National Commission for Museums and Monuments (NCMM), included pieces looted by British troops from Benin City, a former British colonial territory that is now Nigeria. Among these artefacts were the famous bronze sculptures characteristic of pre-colonial Benin art.

Within the discourse on the British colonial past and the ways of coming to terms with it, many have expressed their satisfaction with the Horniman Museum’s decision, as well as with similar initiatives from other museums in the United Kingdom. It seems, after all, that this is the step that the anti-colonial voices have been advocating for. At least that is what I had thought until I encountered the philosopher Ariella Aïsha Azoulay’s work on the concept of ”unlearning imperialism”.

While Azoulay’s work is full of complex ideas, combining questions of existential nature with the legacy of imperialism, it is the

metaphor of the camera shutter as an ”imperial mechanism” that caught my attention above all else. She anchors this concept in the complicated history of photography being used to legitimise the world’s reconstruction “on imperialist terms”, however, in itself this metaphor is quite simple. What Azoulay suggests, is that post-colonial narratives on imperialism ignore, suppress, and remove anything that is considered irrelevant, the way a camera shutter cuts off anything that is deemed useless to the final picture, creating a very specific, unchangeable frame. Moreover, the camera shutter is representative of imperialist and post-colonial mechanisms of erasure in a way that it draws a dividing line between who is positioned in front of the camera, and who is behind it, operating the machine. The camera shutter, just like a conveniently framed and adjusted imperial shutter, creates illusions and false imageries in order to portray a very particular moment or narrative while leaving out the context. The imperial shutter is a tool of objectification, belittling, and erasure.

How, according to Azoulay, does this idea relate to the long history of looting of non-European art and the current attempts at ma-

king amends? She puts it simply: the representatives of some European states who speak publicly about the potential restitution of these stolen treasures, act as if ”the clock of the imperial shutter is no longer audible”. While Azoulay accepts restitution as one form of redemption, she does not consider it sufficient. Moreover, she worries that it is used strategically by these European countries in order to temporarily satisfy and eventually silence the voices that are being raised in the discourse on the treatment of stolen art in the post-colonial era. She, therefore, views restitution as merely another instance of the imperial shutter at work. The complex, historical and intergenerational issue of Europe’s ties with its former colonies is reduced to simply handing back the looted pieces, such as the Benin bronze figures. After this is completed, the way the camera shutter completes the process of creating an explicit photograph tailored to its author’s needs, the European conscience is cleared. The ”before” and the ”after” of the picture, the one in it and the one behind it, never operate on equal terms. For Azoulay, ”unlearning imperialism” is, among others, about getting rid of the imperial shutter, in an act of resistance toward the erasure of multiple historical and

cultural contexts. In principle, she suggests that we do not minimise the importance of these contexts while trying to make up for the doings of our predecessors. Instead, Azoulay advocates that we dive deep into these contexts in which the victims of European imperialism are entangled. This would essentially require a rejection of the idea that acts as simple as handing back the cultural artefacts, theft of which your country is responsible for, are adequate compensation for, in Azoulay’s words, ”the destruction of entire worlds”.

The question remains, to what extent can Azoulay’s ideas be incorporated into the discourse on the political level?

“How realistic is it to expect European politicians to recognise these historical and cultural contexts in which we operate throughout this discussion?”

I would like to suggest that the acknowledgement of colonial history and post-colonial relationships between countries can be brought onto the European political agendas if there is a strong enough insistence on the side of the general public. In order for that to happen, we need, first and foremost, appropriate, in-depth education, both a historical one and one that addresses the modern mechanisms of the post-colonial world - mechanisms such as Azoulay’s metaphoric imperial shutter. Only with a thorough understanding of both past affairs and their perpetual effects on contemporary issues, can we effectively demand that these matters be brought to the political forefront.

What Makes a European City More Liveable?

Li-ion batteries and their preys

The hidden costs of EVs Stijn Hoogvoorst

With Joe Biden recently launching policies to incentivize the production of electric vehicles (EVs) in the US, and the European Green Deal stating the goal to have all cars in the EU be electric by 2035, there has been a surge in demand for electric vehicle batteries. The main ingredient for these powerful batteries that are to replace fossil fuel is lithium, and the rising demand has revealed some dark sides of the supply chain of this rare ore.

The mining of lithium and other minerals that can be used in batteries often comes with environmental damages. Nature reserves sometimes have to be compromised in order to build the mine, and the use of chemicals in the process is damaging to the environment as well. This frequently occurs in conjunction with the contamination of water reserves. The mine planned for the Valdeflores Valley in Spain is an example of this; a mine is planned for this nature reserve, and the local populace is strongly opposed to it. The company intending to build the mine is downplaying the environmental effects and that they want to do an impact evaluation themselves, however, the protesters want the regional government to do a proper environmental impact evaluation. Another, more famous, example is the mine in Serbia that was planned by mining giant Rio Tinto. The lithium mine that was planned in the Jadar valley would lead to forced buyouts of local farmers, pollution of the river and damages to farmland surrounding the area.

In 2022 this led to large scale protests in Belgrade, blocking highways and putting the capital to a complete stop. The government eventually revoked the permits for the mine, but Rio Tinto still claims they believe the mine will eventually be built.

Rio Tinto is known for its controversies surrounding the construction of mines; they have been accused of causing environmental damage and pollution in several locations. In 2015, the company was fined for a toxic waste spill in Papua New Guinea that contaminated a river system and caused damages to the fish stock. In 2019, it faced criticism for a mine tailings dam collapse in Brazil that killed at least 270 people and caused extensive environmental damage. But most people might know them from the time they blew up 46.000 year old sacred indigenous artifacts while expanding their mine in Western Australia. These examples reveal an image of the reputation and intentions of mining companies.

gard. Permits to mine in this country are held by Australian, Canadian and European companies. Lithium grew out to be a conflict mineral in the DRC and with that came problems of corruption and guerrilla wars. According to Global Witness, high-ranking officials have financial stakes in the mines and have an incentive to keep restrictions as light as possible. However, guerilla conflicts are raging around tiny communities for possession of minerals, which mining companies ignore as long as they continue to be supplied with lithium.

Additionally, enslavement and violations of labor rights are commonplace, and there is no way to monitor the environmental repercussions of these mines.

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) is probably the country facing the most issues in this re-

It appears that regulations in the mining sector are needed, but resource extraction businesses are difficult to manage because their operations are generally spread across the globe. It would be a simpler option for the EU and the US to control the use of batteries. It would be prudent to establish EV battery trademarks and monitoring agencies in mining zones. This allows governments in nations with substantial automobile industries to impose standards on the manufacturing procedures of the batteries used. This would perfectly fit into the framework of the European Green Deal and the Sustainable Development Goals, which the EU professes to include into all of its programs.

“While in the developed world controversies surrounding mineral mining are mostly environmental, it creates different problems in developing countries.”

SES Calendar

Alumni Borrel - 18th of April 2023

The Alumni Borrel is back! It has been years since SES could organise this event. Join us on the 18th of April at Café Fest to meet SES alumni and find out what they did after European Studies!

SES Study Trip - 27th of April to 6th of May 2023

SEND YOUR ARTICLE TO EUROVISIE@SES-UVA.NL

(c) studievereniging europese studies 2022

The time has finally come, the destinations of the study trip have been revealed. This year the Travel Committee will take you on an amazing trip to Belgrade, Skopje & Sofia. Be prepared for an unforgettable experience, full of culture and fun. For more information have a look on our website: ses-uva.nl eurovisiemag.com