Activist Cartoons without Borders: The Political Cartoons of Brazilian Artist Carlos Latuff

Brazilian cartoonist Carlos Latuff has been described by Allers in Menassat as `a one-man cartoon wrecking-ball when he hits the ink.' In the last few years of penning sharp cartoons, he `has been alternatively praised and vilified in the press for his depictions of suffering' in places like the Palestinian territories, Iraq, and the slums of Latin America. In this study, I use Latuff's work to illustrate how the artist has formed a global identity based on political affiliation, rather than national origin. I show how the `affordances' of the Internet, namely, the ability of non-mainstream individuals and groups to self-publish, and the ability of activists to contact him directly, have allowed Latuff to be his own publisher and to contact his fans without intermediaries. The fearless cartoonist avoids `blockages' to free communication by posting on his website daring political cartoons that veer off from mainstream views on global issues. Furthermore, his cartoons draw their power from being centered on a marginalized global audience that most mainstream cartoonists ignore. His lateral communication with his 120,374 Twitter followers (September 13, 2012 count), coupled with his use of new forms of copyright protections, such as Creative Commons and Copyleft, have broadened his appeal to the general public whose members remix his work on walls, placards and T-shirts, and use it for their own political ends. Finally, I argue that the growing use of social media by social movements enhances the organizing capacity of activists internally, but also encourages lateral communication with the formerly unreachable `global other,' exposing the global communicators to views not readily available on mainstream media, and affording them a forum previously denied them

Freedom of expression, accountability and development in the Arab region

Mechanisms for ensuring government transparency and accountability have yet to become established in the Arab region, where oil rents and security rents have traditionally enabled governments to provide jobs and services without having to rely heavily, if at all, on raising revenue through personal income tax on citizens. Yet various forms of resource mobilisation, which will be needed in future, are likely to require a greater degree of accountability from those responsible for such mobilisation. This paper considers whether a move in this direction is under way. It reviews government approaches to freedom of expression in the media and among non-governmental organisations. It notes changes that have taken place in this sphere since the start of the 1990s, not all of them positive, and concludes that many more steps remain to be taken if media organisations and NGOs are to exert pressure for accountability on behalf of citizens, and especially the disadvantaged

`Emergent Structure' in the Abu Ghraib Political Cartoons of Emad Hajjaj in a News Context, or, What do the Images of Abu Ghraib `Want from Us'?

The torture scandal of Abu Ghraib prison was exposed in 2004 when 60 Minutes introduced the story by placing on its web site the photo of a hooded prisoner on a box. That particular image, chosen by many cartoonists and scholars as the iconic image to represent torture, is the subject of this study. I apply the theories of `conceptual blending' (Fauconnier and Turner, 2002) to the Abu Ghraib cartoons of the hooded prisoner as well as to the cartoons that draw on that iconic image years later. By tracing the cognitive and visual strategies political cartoonist Emad Hajjaj used to transform that powerful icon into 24 cartoons between 2004-2010, I illustrate how the image continues to be blended into new `emergent structures' that are applied to other news events. I suggest that, over time, the Hajjaj cartoons changed from timely commentary on the mistreatment of prisoners, to icons that encourage `a devotional reading' (Mitchell, 2006) or related and unrelated news events. Those same images have also inspired political `culture jamming,' in which artists turned the iPod into iRaq, and posted mock iRaq posters, extending the life and reach of the image