Civil Society Engagement

Abstract

Human rights politics is a cross-cutting politics. This means that there is a multitude of political fields that can be worked on and a multitude of actors who more or less successfully cultivate the field. In this introduction, the diversity of actors and their actions will be highlighted with the help of social science concepts and approaches—starting with right holders and civil society, before we later deal with the human rights politics of states (as duty bearers) and the importance of regional and global human rights institutions. In doing so, we follow a somewhat different path than the extensive literature, which asks to what extent (in the sense of a top-down approach) international human rights treaties, recommendations of international human rights committees or decisions of regional human rights courts are implemented at the national level. Human rights demands are also made to national political bodies and to international human rights institutions—explicitly or substantively (in the sense of a bottom-up approach)—by those affected and by their support groups. Ideally, the top-down approach and the bottom-up approach complement each other.

Human rights politics is a cross-cutting politics. This means that there is a multitude of political fields that can be worked on and a multitude of actors who more or less successfully cultivate the field. In this introduction, the diversity of actors and their actions will be highlighted with the help of social science concepts and approaches—starting with right holders and civil society, before we later deal with the human rights politics of states (as duty bearers) and the importance of regional and global human rights institutions. In doing so, we follow a somewhat different path than the extensive literature, which asks to what extent (in the sense of a top-down approach) international human rights treaties, recommendations of international human rights committees or decisions of regional human rights courts are implemented at the national level. Human rights demands are also made to national political bodies and to international human rights institutions—explicitly or substantively (in the sense of a bottom-up approach)—by those affected and by their support groups. Ideally, the top-down approach and the bottom-up approach complement each other.

2.1 Human Rights Empowerment

Individuals, as holders of human rights, are structurally in a weak position vis-à-vis those powerful actors who violate or are required to implement their human rights. In order to secure human rights freedoms and to assert human rights claims, human rights empowerment is therefore required. The iridescent concept of empowerment describes, in general terms, a development in the course of which people gain the power or “empower themselves” to take their lives into their own hands and to help shape their living environment. In this sense, empowerment thus refers to people’s ability to master their often-difficult everyday lives and to lead their lives on their own. It is about successfully coping with and shaping one’s life, especially in view of often difficult personal and social living conditions—whether without outside help or with the support of others.

In political terms, empowerment aims to enable people and groups who have little power and influence to emerge from a state of power inferiority and become stronger in such a way that they can help shape the community in their own interests. Against the background of power weakness and heteronomy, empowerment has a lot to do with the attainment or regaining of individual, social and political autonomy. Political empowerment always includes an element of political “self-enablement” and “self-empowerment”. It is about people using or adopting existing potential, resources and opportunities to help shape the community and change (or be able to change) social conditions. “Empowerment Now: Self-representation of Refugees with Disabilities” is, for instance, the title of a handout by Handicap International (2021). Political empowerment is often dependent on a context of solidarity and support. The challenge here is to support without patronising.

Human rights empowerment refers to a specific form of empowerment. It refers to a process in the course of which the holders of human rights, despite their structurally weak position of power, become stronger and acquire the ability to effectively demand and assert their own human rights and the human rights of others. Human rights engagement is often preceded by experiences of injustice. Certain social and political conditions are perceived as grievances and injustices that need to be overcome.

In fact, there are countless examples of people rising up against social and political grievances and making human rights demands, even if they do not always explicitly refer to human rights. These can be people standing up for relatives and friends who have been arbitrarily arrested or convicted, or journalists and bloggers speaking out against censorship. They can be workers protesting against inhumane working conditions, or campesinos or indígenas resisting land evictions. Everywhere there are people who stand up against oppression, persecution and discrimination, either because they are affected themselves or because they stand in solidarity with those affected. In the past decades, such experiences of injustice have not always, but frequently, been expressed in human rights terms and linked to human rights demands raised by the civil society. The advantage here is that human rights are “inherently compelling” (Bielefeldt 2022, p. 15), regardless of philosophical discussions and legal details. Many people are aware that they are being wronged by human rights violations, and they experience them as degradation.

Human rights empowerment usually requires people whose rights are violated to organise, network and coordinate their actions. Individuals can also make a difference. However, apart from the fact that they are often supported in their efforts, collective action is usually required in order for human rights demands to be effectively asserted and enforced against powerful actors. The analysis of collective action lies therefore at the centre of the social science analysis of human rights politics. In civil society, collective action typically takes place within the framework of local initiatives, NGOs, ad hoc alliances, NGO networks and social movements in which affected people and their supporters organise themselves. These collective actors have an impact on society with their human rights work, but at the same time they also make human rights policy demands on state policy and try to influence it in line with human rights.

2.2 Non-Governmental Human Rights Organisations

As part of civil society, nongovernmental organisations (NGOs) are important local, regional and global human rights actors. Although many NGOs working for human rights are older,¹ the number and importance of human rights NGOs has increased considerably, especially from the 1970s onwards. Today, it is impossible to imagine human rights politics without NGOs.

But what are human rights NGOs? NGOs are commonly classified as belonging to the “third sector” between businesses and the state and have two basic characteristics: they are not profit-oriented² and are independent of government.³ Sham NGOs set up by the government, so-called GONGOs (government-organised NGOs) are not genuine NGOs. In addition, criminal and violent organisations are sometimes explicitly excluded from the definition of NGOs. Unlike political parties or liberation organisations, NGOs do not want to take over government power, even if they advocate for public causes (Saunders and Roth 2019, pp. 138 ff.).

Given the large number of organisations that can be subsumed under the heading of NGOs in this broad sense, the question of whether an organisation is a human rights NGO can best be determined on the basis of its self-declared goals and activities: First of all, it includes those NGOs that are explicitly, primarily and mainly committed to the protection and promotion of human rights. However, there are also a large number of NGOs that take up and promote human rights concerns within the framework of a broader mandate. These can, for example, be non-governmental and church-based aid and development organisations, or environmental organisations that explicitly advocate for human rights as part of their work. Although these are not human rights NGOs in the strict sense, they complete the picture of an NGO scene that is active in the interests of human rights.

Originally, the term NGOs was used to refer to international NGOs in particular (Davies 2019, p. 2). However, in addition to the large, transnationally active NGOs, local, national and regional human rights organisations are also active.⁴ In many countries and regions, there is an active “human rights scene” that is supported by local NGOs. It is important to take these into account, especially when examining how people come together locally to stand up for human rights. Sometimes, NGOs that are forced to operate from exile (such as Belarusian human rights NGOs) must also be taken into account. At the same time, large international NGOs often work with local partner organisations. They have often built up a solid organisational base in a number of countries themselves, have departments and networks there, and have long since become global NGOs. In short, there is an almost unmanageable, rapidly changing landscape of NGOs and NGO alliances working for human rights at the local, national, regional and global levels.

NGOs and NGO alliances differ in terms of the human rights issues they work on.⁵ Some work on a wide range of human rights issues,⁶ others focus on specific rights and problems. For example, the oldest human rights organisation still in existence today, Anti-Slavery International (originally the Anti-Slavery Society), has been campaigning since 1839 for the abolition of slavery, which still shapes the lives and work of millions and millions of people today in the form of human trafficking, forced labour, bonded labour or exploitative child labour. Other NGOs and NGO alliances, to give just a few examples, are particularly committed to the abolition of the death penalty,⁷ against torture⁸ and to the prevention of genocide,⁹ strive for the prosecution of the most serious human rights crimes¹⁰ and access to justice for those affected,¹¹ defend religious freedom¹² or freedom of expression and of the press¹³ or fight anti-Semitism,¹⁴ anti-gypsyism, Islamophobia and Muslimophobia and racism in general.¹⁵ Others focus on the whole spectrum of civil and political human rights.¹⁶

Whereas until the 1990s only a few human rights organisations had taken up the cause of economic, social and cultural human rights (ESC rights),¹⁷ there are now a large number of NGOs and NGO networks worldwide that seek to protect and promote ESC rights. For example, an International Network for Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ESCR-Net) was formed in the 1990s specifically to strengthen ESC rights, and in the 2000s an NGO alliance in the form of the Coalition for an Optional Protocol to the ICESCR called for a complaints procedure for the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights. One of the pioneers of ESC rights is FIAN International, which was founded in Heidelberg in 1986 and specifically took on the right to food. Through its departments and networks, FIAN now works on and in over 50 countries worldwide and has also taken on other ESC rights. Many NGOs working primarily on civil-political rights have also expanded their areas of work to include ESC rights. Of particular importance, for example, was that Amnesty International—after a tough internal organisational struggle and despite internal resistance—has also been demanding the implementation of (some) ESC rights since the 2000s.¹⁸ The reports by Human Rights Watch now also deal with economic and social human rights.¹⁹ At the same time, ESC rights have gradually found their way into the work of aid and development organisations, especially since the turn of the millennium. The topics of business and human rights and the environment and human rights have also significantly gained in importance. They were sometimes taken on by established international human rights organisations and also led to the establishing of independent NGOs and initiatives.²⁰

Furthermore, the target groups of non-governmental human rights work differ. Quite a few NGOs specifically advocate for the rights of certain groups—often within the framework of broader mandates—or are their self-organisation bodies. These can be, to name just a few examples, relatives of “disappeared” persons,²¹ women,²² LGBTIQ+,²³ children,²⁴ people with disabilities²⁵ as well as members of religious, ethnic or indigenous minorities,²⁶ refugees and displaced persons,²⁷ trafficked persons²⁸ or domestic workers.²⁹ At the same time, human rights NGOs also specifically seek to protect and promote human rights defenders.³⁰

Moreover, NGOs differ considerably not only in terms of the focus of their work and their supporter and target groups, but also in their approach. Some work primarily in a legal capacity, such as the European Center for Constitutional and Human Rights, which supports criminal charges in order to advance human rights protection through strategic litigation and judicial precedents. Such strategic litigation (human rights litigation)³¹ is also used by other NGOs.³² Many other organisations, on the other hand, have a stronger impact on the public and political agenda. The human rights work of NGOs thus encompasses several areas of activity. Traditionally important areas of non-governmental human rights work by NGOs are the regular monitoring of the human rights situation in a country or region and the documentation of human rights violations. Closely related to this is also informing the public about human rights demands, problems and concerns. Special didactic skills are required for human rights education, which not only imparts knowledge about human rights, but also raises awareness of human rights and strengthens the ability to act. Some NGOs, on the other hand, devote themselves entirely to analysis and consultation, acting to a certain extent as human rights “think tanks”. Often, non-governmental human rights organisations also specifically support the human rights empowerment of population groups whose rights are violated or threatened, so that they can assert their rights themselves. Or they support partner organisations financially or through other forms of capacity building and provide technical support.³³

Public protests and campaigns attract a lot of attention. Many human rights NGOs denounce human rights violations, name those responsible and put them under socio-political pressure to justify and act by way of shaming and blaming. A less visible, but nevertheless immensely important field of action in human rights policy, in addition to general advocacy work, is the targeted lobbying that NGOs carry out vis-à-vis governments, parliaments and state authorities and within the framework of international organisations. This involves the targeted influencing of the shaping of national and international human rights protection and the exertion of influence on policies relevant to human rights—from political agenda-setting to the planning, implementation and evaluation of corresponding measures. If necessary, these are supplemented by advisory activities in which the expertise of NGOs is called on.

It has already been mentioned that non-governmental human rights organisations sometimes also provide legal assistance and support those affected in making use of existing national and international complaint and grievance mechanisms in order to take action against human rights violations. They often have their own legal aid fund for this purpose. Other monitoring procedures (reports, investigations, etc.) are also specifically used by NGOs to raise human rights concerns, for example in the form of “shadow reports” to international monitoring bodies. Some organisations have dedicated themselves entirely to critically observing the work of UN human rights monitoring bodies.³⁴

Furthermore, the protection of people from state persecution is one of the “classic” areas of activity in non-governmental human rights work. In the face of repressive NGO laws and the defamation, criminalisation and persecution of people and organisations working to promote human rights, human rights NGOs and their partner organisations in many states are also forced to protect themselves and defend themselves against bureaucratic harassment, smear campaigns and criminal charges. Often specialised NGOs also offer support to victims of human rights violations (e.g. torture victims³⁵). Finally, NGOs also play a role in shaping the politics of the past. The human rights organisation Memorial International in Russia, founded in 1989, with its focus on the historical reappraisal of political tyranny, is a prominent example of this. In December 2021, however, the Russian Supreme Court ordered its dissolution. In 2022, Memorial—together with the above-mentioned Center for Civil Liberties (Ukraine) and Ales Bialiatski, the imprisoned chairman of Viasna (Belarus)—received the Nobel Peace Prize (Table 2.1).

Table 2.1 Fields of action of human rights NGOs

An important part of non-governmental human rights work is networking. Some important international networks have already been mentioned or should also be mentioned,³⁶ and with the emergence of new human rights issues others are joining them.³⁷ In Germany in 1994—following the 1993 Vienna World Conference on Human Rights—numerous organisations joined forces in the nationwide human rights network Forum Menschenrechte to (a) critically accompany the human rights policies of the Federal Government and the German Bundestag at the national and international level; (b) undertake joint projects to improve human rights protection worldwide; (c) raise human rights awareness among the German public, draw attention to possible human rights violations in Germany and work to overcome them; (d) exchange information among member organisations on human rights issues; (e) support local, regional and national NGOs in the international aspects of their work and promote the international networking of NGOs.³⁸ The strength of the Forum Menschenrechte, however, lies less in campaigning and more in advocacy and lobbying, in influencing government and parliament—and thus in “insider activism” (Saunders and Roth 2019, p. 138).

2.3 Social (Protest) Movements

Social movements are more fluid and less institutionalised than NGOs or permanent NGO networks (which, of course, sometimes participate in movements as social movement organisations). They are an important form of collective, civil society action in which human rights protest can also be expressed. Among the many examples of effective social movements that have taken up human rights concerns (without always making explicit semantic reference to human rights) are workers’, civil rights, anti-apartheid, dissident, women’s, lesbian, gay, disability, peace and environmental movements, as well as peasant and indigenous movements. With the growing socio-political importance of human rights discourse—which was originally very much dominated by experts—human rights gained in importance as points of reference, especially from the 1970s onwards, even in those social movements that had not previously explicitly put forward their demands in the language of human rights. The invocation of human rights proved to be politically powerful (Sen 2004, p. 7).

At the same time, state repression and arbitrariness have in many places given rise to human rights protest movements sui generis that were explicitly concerned with human rights. A look at Latin America, for example, shows how the idea of human rights was taken up and became a powerful movement when various countries were overrun with brutal military dictatorships.

The human rights movement in Latin America has its origins in a particular political constellation, which can be determined quite precisely in time and place, and which covered large parts of the continent from the late 1960s onwards: the unusually brutal and systematic repression of a series of military dictatorships (Huhle 2009, p. 407, own translation).

Rainer Huhle shows that the modern human rights movement in Latin America has a double origin: on the one hand, the self-organisation of people directly affected by persecution, who together made their demands public, and on the other hand, the support of those affected by allied lawyers, politicians, members of the institutional church and other professionals. It was only from this coming together that a movement emerged that one could reasonably call a human rights movement. In this sense, he understands the emergence of the human rights movement in Latin America as “the result of the tension between direct self-organisation and professional political-legal work within the framework of traditional institutions and/or newly founded non-governmental organisations (NGOs)” (Huhle 2009, pp. 407–408, own translation). He cites the 1973 coup in Chile as both the date and place of their birth.

The extent to which recurring or prolonged protests that implicitly or explicitly refer to civil, political, economic, social and/or cultural human rights, or even to the right to a healthy environment, can now be considered a “social movement” depends largely on how the latter are defined. So, what are—beyond any self-descriptions as a “movement”—sociological characteristics of social movements? Given their diversity, it is difficult to generalise, but a basic understanding of social movements has emerged in the literature based on their goals, forms of action and internal structures.

A key characteristic of social movements is thus the the goal to initiate and implement, or to resist and reverse fundamental social changes (Snow et al. 2019). Based on the understanding that history can be shaped, social movements thus have the characteristic of actors, and their actions are directed towards fundamental social change—either promoting or resisting it. Social movements are not always progressive.³⁹ Usually there are also counter-movements as a reaction to actual or demanded social change. In Europe, for example, an anti-gender movement formed in the last decade that mobilised against gender-sensitive language, gender mainstreaming or gay marriage (see: Sauer 2019).

The power basis of social movements lies primarily in the ongoing mobilisation of activists, sympathisers and supporters in the population. The active, permanent search for support, remaining constantly in motion, is therefore another characteristic of social movements. In doing so, social movements use—if not necessarily exclusively, then at least primarily—extra-institutional forms of action to present their concerns and mobilise their supporters.

Although protests are not the exclusive preserve of movements, protest orientation is a constitutive feature of both the movements’ self-understanding and their perception by the public and the audience (Rucht 1994, p. 339, own translation).

Visible expressions are a multitude of street protests and an—often wide—variety of creative forms of action. One effective example among many is the production against sexualised violence by the Chilean collective LATESIS, which was first performed in 2019 and whose protest song “Un violador en tu camino” (A rapist in your path) was sung by women (sometimes simultaneously) in several cities around the world (LASTESIS 2021a, 2021b).

Despite all the diversity of actors and actions, a minimum of collective identity and organisation and existence for a certain length of time is still needed to be able to speak of a social movement. This even applies to online mobilisations and online movements, which sometimes follow the logic of a “connective action” rather than a “collective action” (cf. Bennett and Segerberg 2013). The #metoo campaign is an example of successful hashtag actionism that created at least a certain sense of belonging among all those who shared personal experiences, showed solidarity with victims and protested against sexualised violence. In fact, the formation of a collective (self-)consciousness of belonging, a “feeling of togetherness”, is both a characteristic and a condition of existence for social movements. This, of course, does not, however, preclude that in social movements multiple identities exist, interpretive struggles take place between moderate and radical forces, and collective identities can be questioned and reconstructed. This can also give rise to the research question of what advantages and disadvantages strong or weak, coherent or fragmented, and stable or fluid collective identities have for the existence and work of the movements. Be that as it may, despite all the informality, social movements are not just alliances which are completely free of hierarchical structures and organisation. The interaction between the movement elites, the organisations involved in the movement and the fluid parts at the grassroots level characterises the rather loose, but not completely unstructured action of social movements. By providing a certain degree of continuity, social movements distinguish themselves from one-off or spontaneous protests, for example.

To summarise it can be said that

a social movement is a system of mobilised networks of groups and organisations that seeks to bring about, prevent or reverse social change by means of public protests, and which is set up for a certain duration and supported by a collective identity (Rucht and Teune 2017, p. 11, own translation).⁴⁰

In many cases, extra-institutional forms of action seem necessary, especially from the point of view of protesters, in order to bring about (or ward off) socio-political changes. This tends to be the case in democracies whenever pressing socio-political concerns are not taken up institutionally by parties and pluralistically or corporatistically integrated interest groups and “dealt with” satisfactorily within the framework of democratic procedures and institutions. Social protests can also be intensified by waves of protest that emerge within the framework of “contentious politics”. However, extra-institutional protest actions by social movements are not necessarily accompanied by a complete rejection of established forms of institutionalised politics; sometimes they even complement each other. In this sense, social movements and their protests have become an integral part of liberal-representative democracies and can be dismissed as extra-institutional, but no longer—as was previously the case⁴¹—as unconventional, let alone irrational forms of political participation. Even civil disobedience is sometimes considered to be maybe not legal but certainly legitimate in parts of the population.

However, the situation is different where, for example, the parameters for unconventional and illegal action have been shifted and dissident protesters are defamed, criminalised and persecuted. Activists then are quickly become the target of political justice. Street protests and anti-government demonstrations, which in vibrant democracies are (and should be) considered legal, legitimate and important forms of socio-political expression, are particularly often banned in autocracies, but sometimes also in democracies, and thus deliberately pushed into illegality and defamed. Typical are accusations that the protesters are in fact “criminals”, “rebels”, “traitors to the fatherland” or even “terrorists” and that they are being controlled by foreign powers.

If changes are to be initiated beyond the protests not only in the short term but also in the medium and long term, it is of course also important in democracies that the concerns raised by social movements outside the institutions are permanently incorporated in social discourse and fed into political decision-making processes. After all, it is not only about issue and agenda setting, but also about actually influencing politics, in our case in the interest of human rights. Often, however, social movements (at least initially) do not have established—formal or informal—access to politics, so they tend to (at first) engage in “outsider activism”.

The situation is often different with established NGOs and NGO networks, which may be involved in the social movements as movement organisations or cooperate with them as allies. Large or strategically important NGOs sometimes have privileged access to the political decision-making centres, also in the field of human rights. This can lead to tensions between the fluid parts of social movements and professionalised NGOs. There may also be different ideas about strategies, tactics and the scope of demands. For example, especially in the field of human rights a donor-oriented, moderate orientation of NGO work can lead to a certain moderation and depoliticisation, which creates resistance. Saunders and Roth (2019, p. 141) use the term “NGOisation” of social movements here. Conversely, social movements can become radicalised and, in addition to non-violent forms of action from the outset or over time (for example, due to disappointment over the ineffectiveness of peaceful actions), also display a certain willingness to use violence against objects or people. The protest movement in Hong Kong in 2019/2020, for example, became partially radicalised over time.

Continuity and change of social movements can be characterised by some fundamental questions that are also relevant for human rights movements: What are the issues being protested about? Who is protesting, who is mobilising? How is the protesting done? How is the protest communicated? How is the protest movement perceived publicly? Which opponents appear on the scene? This also shows whether and to what extent the protest movement uses the discourse on human rights to raise its concerns—and whether it receives support or encounters resistance.

Furthermore, it is important to adequately capture the transnational character of human rights movements and their action at regional and global levels. We will come back to this later when we discuss the importance of advocacy networks and social movements for a transnational human rights policy.

2.4 References to Social Movement Research

The extensive literature on collective action and social (protest) movements offers many possible starting points for studying the civil society engagement of people campaigning for human rights. At the micro level of active protest movements, they (possibly) help to describe and explain when, how and why people collectively stand up for a cause—in our case human rights; who in local initiatives, NGOs, networks and social movements takes up, participates in and supports such (human rights) causes—and who “drops out” again and for what reasons; how local initiatives, NGOs, networks and social movements are organised; what they do and how they interact with other actors; why they gain and lose importance; and last but not least, what they achieve.⁴²

The focus is on the objectively available resources and possibilities for action as well as on the subjective perceptions, interpretations and convictions of the actors. The frames and narratives they use and communicate, as well as the emotions they evoke and are carried by, can also be looked at specifically. No less important are concrete mobilisation and action strategies as well as the interactions with all the other actors who support their concerns, are indifferent to them or even try to ward them off. At the same time, a comprehensive analysis does not look at the actors in isolation. Rather, it embeds their actions in the overarching political, socio-economic, cultural and/or ecological structures and framework conditions at the macro level. This is important as such structures—and structural changes—can be causal for the emergence and strengthening of social movements and at the same time determine whether and how concerns are raised, taken up or resisted.

In the course of a long tradition of research, a number of theories and concepts on social movements have been developed that have attempted to explain their emergence, strengthening and impact. This chapter cannot begin to do justice to the wealth and depth of research. Nor does it aim to present sophisticated theoretical drafts in detail or even to develop them itself. Rather, the aim is to loosely delineate the field of research and to address individual considerations that are helpful for the analysis of human rights movements.

2.4.1 Discontent as a Motive

People who protest are, it can be assumed, generally dissatisfied with something and want to change a situation. In many social protest movements, dissatisfaction is an important motive for “taking to the streets”. This is presumably also true for people who join collective protests to resist actual or perceived injustice, and explicitly or substantively assert their civil, political, economic, social or cultural rights.

The idea that individually perceived and collectively amplified dissatisfaction is an essential driving force for social movements is by no means new and is not fundamentally disputed in social movement research. It was prominently propounded by theories of deprivation, which enjoyed great popularity until the 1980s (Gurney and Tierney 1982). They mainly focused on the willingness of deprived people to act and protest. However, it was pointed out early on that protest-generating discontent is not only fed by the absolute deprivation of people, which can result, for example, from their precarious living and working conditions. Rather, relative deprivation is the central social source of dissatisfaction and protest. “According to this, burdens are (potentially) protest-generating above all when they are perceived as unreasonable or unjust in relation to the situation of other reference groups” (Rucht 1994, p. 339, own translation). The focus thus shifted to the discrepancy between the subjective perceptions of one’s own situation on the one hand and the situation of comparable reference groups and legitimisable demands on the other, which was also a particular motivation for action if the desired situation was seen as realisable.⁴³

The assumption that relative disadvantage as well as unfulfilled but legitimate demands and disappointed expectations can lead to dissatisfaction and consequently to political protests is certainly plausible, also in the field of human rights. For example, the dissatisfaction of discriminated population groups and minorities is based not least on the subjective comparison of their own situation with that of other reference groups and with legitimate (or possible) demands that (at least in substance) arise from human rights. It remains to be seen, however, whether the protest potential this entails will actually lead to protests. Thus, the theories of deprivation do not explain—which was their actual intention—in what way and under what conditions any willingness to protest will turn into protest action. However, the mobilisation and organisation of dissatisfied people actually pushing for change does require explanation. This is where so-called resource mobilisation theories come in, which partly developed from the criticism of the deprivation theories prevalent at the time. They put the organisation and resources needed to form (peaceful) collective protests at the centre of the analysis.

2.4.2 Mobilisation of Resources

The basic assumption of the largely economic approaches to resource mobilisation⁴⁴ is that dissatisfaction, displeasure and grievances in a society are not a sufficient condition⁴⁵ for the emergence of social (protest) movements. Rather, the emergence and mobilisation power of social movements depend decisively on the resources required for collective action. McCarthy and Zald (1977) even assumed that there is always enough discontent in a society to ensure sufficient support at the grassroots level for any social movements, provided they are effectively organised and can also draw on the resources of established groups within the elites. It is not the pressure of suffering of social groups that is decisive for the emergence of protest behaviour, so the argument, but access to resources. The decisive factor is the extent to which movement organisers succeed in bringing together the resources of individuals necessary for collective action and in organising the discontent (which already exists or has been brought about for mobilisation purposes). It should be critically noted that a top-down perspective is adopted here: From this perspective, successful social movements are more the result of (resource) mobilisation by movement elites and organisations than a “bottom-up” union of a broad base of discontented people who come together to stand up for a cause and make a difference. Accordingly, the spontaneous and expressive moments of social movements that do exist (especially in today’s digital age) tend to be ignored.

Nevertheless, the sometimes sophisticated theoretical reflections and empirical studies that can be subsumed under resource mobilisation approaches (and do not need to be dealt with in detail here) have the merit of drawing attention to the organisational structures of social movements and emphasising the importance of resources for collective action, whereby the spectrum of resources considered has expanded considerably (Edwards et al. 2019). Thus, it is also important for human rights movements and NGOs involved in them to mobilise a wide range of resources. These include the mobilisation of (a) material resources, e.g. through their own contributions, the acquisition of donations and fundraising; (b) human resources, e.g. through human rights training, the mobilisation and recruitment of people with human rights, organisational or communications expertise, and the activation of networks; (c) socio-organisational resources, e.g. through the establishment and expansion of communication, campaign and organisational structures, as well as networking with each other and with alliance partners; (d) cultural resources through collective action frames, creative forms of protest, identity building, e.g. through symbols, cultural activities (music, literature, film, art, blogs, etc.) and through their own movement stories; e) moral resources, such as morally convincing appearances and campaigns, the mobilisation of respected supporters, human rights awards or other public recognition.

2.4.3 Framing Processes

While resource mobilisation approaches emphasise the importance of resources, framing approaches specifically focus on the emergence and change of collective patterns of interpretation within social movements and refer primarily to the discursive level. These are also significant for NGOs, both for their internal cohesion and for their public relations work and campaigns (Saunders and Roth 2019). Collective action frames focus on the processes of subjective collective interpretation of socio-political problems that underlie civil society engagement and collective protest actions. In a sense, it is an interpretive frame (hence the word framing) that suggests a certain way of looking at socio-political problems and their solutions. Such frames can have different functions. Useful here is the widely used distinction between diagnostic framing, prognostic framing and motivational framing (Snow and Benford 2000).

Diagnostic framing offers potential contributors to social movements (or networks and NGOs) an interpretation of a problem and identifies those responsible. Such framing is used by climate activists, for example, when they emphasise that climate change is not natural, but man-made, is progressing rapidly and threatening livelihoods on our planet as a result of government inaction. The diagnosis sounds trivial, has been known among experts for a long time, and yet it is only in recent years that it has triggered a wide climate movement. Such diagnostic framing, which determines and changes the view of the problem, is also significant for human rights movements. Even in the case of obvious oppression and exploitation, people who revolt against it must be convinced that their situation is not God-given or nature-given, but man-made or at least changeable by people, that they are being wronged, and that, for example, repressive governments and their support groups are responsible for this. Ultimately, the human rights interpretation of experiences of injustice is a fundamental prerequisite for human rights politics in general.

The diagnostic framing is followed by a prognostic (or better: solution-oriented) framing. It contains suggestions on how to solve the problems mentioned. In the case of climate change, for example, there are various measures to reduce CO2 emissions, combined with demands to fundamentally change our traditional forms of economic activity, mobility and consumption. In the case of a repressive regime, perhaps the resignation of the autocrat, the holding of free and fair elections and/or, as unfortunately unsuccessfully in Chile, the drafting of a new constitution is seen as the solution. In this context, it is important that the proposed solutions are shown to be necessary, appropriate and purposeful and that there is a (at least slight) chance of implementing them. Framing usually only really unfolds its (full) mobilising potential when change appears to be possible subjectively. This leads us to motivational framing.

Motivational framing tries to use specific incentives (recognition, solidarity, moral appeals, etc.) to get people to stand up and fight together for a cause. This is where we see the “faces” of movements such as Greta Thunberg at “Fridays for Future”, but also those of campaigners. While mobilising frames and slogans can emerge in the context of collective actions, as the many more or less original placards at demonstrations often show, they can also be part of targeted mobilisation strategies used by campaign and communication professionals in social movements and the organisations involved in them. In the social sciences, the importance of “entrepeneurs” who communicate and promote appropriate frames is emphasised in this context. In this sense, there are also—admittedly an unattractive term—“moral entrepeneurs” who, for example, seek to gain support for human rights framed causes. There is an abundance of such mobilising campaigns. One example (among countless) of a rather spontaneous, motivational framing is the 18-0 movement in Chile. Under the slogan “Chile despertó” (Chile has woken up), the increase in metro fares on 18 October 2019 was a catalyst for mass demonstrations against the neoliberal economic and social order as well as Chile’s constitution, which still dated from the time of the dictatorship. The demonstrations were complemented by countless creative actions and artistic self-manifestations of the protesters in public spaces.

Whether the frames resonate (frame resonance) depends on many factors. These include questions such as how consistent the corresponding interpretations are, how credibly they are presented and by whom, to what extent they are culturally adapted, to what extent they correspond to the reality of life and the values of the people, and how significant the issue is for them (Snow and Benford 1992; Noakes and Johnston 2005, p. 11). For example, the demonstrators in the GDR in 1989 shouted “We are the people”, not only using a powerful slogan behind which a broad protest movement could rally, but at the same time offering an interpretative counterproposal to a regime that called itself a people’s government but was clearly not one (any longer) for large parts of the population. The fact that three decades later antiliberal protest movements misused the slogan to pose as the “true representatives of the people” in an entirely anti-pluralistic manner is one of the unpleasant after-effects of recent German history.

One of the strategies to increase the impact of social movements is frame bridging, which connects previously separate but connectable interpretive frames and problems, such as climate change and human rights. With the appointment of a Special Rapporteur on the promotion and protection of human rights in the context of climate change by the UN Human Rights Council in 2021,⁴⁶ this kind of thematic connection has now acquired an institutional face in the UN human rights system. Sometimes such bridge-building is necessary even in the case of obviously interrelated issues, for example when it is emphasised that ‘Trade union rights are human rights!’, ‘women's rights are human rights!’, ‘disability rights are human rights!’, children's rights are human rights!’, ‘LGBTIQ+ rights are human rights’. It was also possible—thanks to the growing importance of economic, social and cultural human rights from the end of the 1990s onwards—to bring the previously separate “worlds” of development cooperation and human rights more closely together.⁴⁷

Another strategy concerns frame amplification, for example by means of catchy symbolic actions. Thomas Kern (2008, p. 148) cites the example of how, during the democracy movement in the 1970s and 1980s in South Korea, student groups revived traditional forms of village culture and narrative art in order to make fun of the regime and denounce social grievances. Symbolism also played a major role in the above-mentioned example of the Chilean protest movement 18-0. To give just one example, the well-known song “El baile de los que sobran” by the group Los Prisioneros, which had been written in 1986 in the midst of the Pinochet dictatorship, was sung again, and young protesters wore T-shirts of the music band with the inscription “Nosotros somos rockeros sudamericanos” during the protests of 2019.

Patterns of interpretation can also be extended (frame extension), for example by highlighting previously underexposed aspects in order to address new target groups. For example, it makes a difference whether “only” the inhumane and exploitative production conditions in the textile and clothing industry in faraway countries of the “Global South” are denounced, or whether, in addition, the co-responsibility of the purchasing practices of large fashion companies in the “Global North” and our own consumer behaviour for the terrible conditions there are also addressed. It may also require a frame transformation, i.e. the development of a new perspective that contradicts traditional beliefs. This includes, for example, the view that domestic violence is not a private matter in which the state should not interfere. Even in the discourse on human rights, this view—which was painstakingly fought for by feminist movements—first had to establish itself (cf. Brysk 2017).

However, framing by social movements, especially in terms of human rights, is not usually uncontroversial politically or socially. Rather, corresponding re-interpretations usually have to assert themselves against official framings of governments and/or the counterframing of counter-movements, which for their part are equipped with power, resources and organisational strength. In order to assert themselves here, power imbalances must therefore be given consideration and addressed at the same time (see Ryan and Gamson 2015/2006). This also applies to access to the media, which has a decisive influence on the view of socio-political problems and their solutions, albeit without the media consumers always being aware of this. An explicitly motivational framing is not generally attributed to the media (Noakes and Johnston 2005, p. 6), however, there is of course also propaganda and counterpropaganda motivating action in traditional and even more so in new, social media, which needs to be examined specifically. In any case, as Dieter Rucht (1994) called for many years ago, it is worthwhile increasingly including the public reached by mass media in the study of social movements. In his view, framing approaches provide connection possibilities in the same way as political opportunity structures approaches and political process approaches, which Rucht subsumes under interaction theories.

2.4.4 Political Opportunities and Processes

Political opportunity structures approaches and the political process approaches based on them⁴⁸ bring to the fore the question of the extent to which socio-structural change results in new opportunities for political participation for hitherto politically marginalised social groups and how the state enables and tolerates such participation. This question is considered to be crucial for the emergence of social protest movements and for the way in which they engage with the state. For example, it makes a big difference whether civil society actors strengthened by social change put forward their—possibly human rights policy—demands in a more open or in a more closed political context. The respective legal and political structures offer more or less favourable conditions for protest movements and significantly determine the conflict behaviour of the actors. In the chapter on regional and global human rights politics, we will later discuss the fact that even in the case of a repressive domestic context, political opportunities can arise at the transnational level to assert human rights.

However, the literature on political opportunity structures is not only about opportunities that arise and enable disadvantaged groups to address collectively perceived grievances through their participation and action in social movements. Threats that reinforce grievances or create them in the first place can also be a motivation for action. There is a difference between the two: opportunities offer people who join social movements the chance to bring about improvements, while threats mobilise people to avert further deterioration (Almeida 2019, p. 44). Tilly (1978, pp. 134–135) even assumed that “a given amount of threat tends to generate more collective action than the ‘same’ amount of opportunity”. Snow used the so-called Prospect Theory (which we will briefly discuss later in the analysis of foreign policy) to explain why groups that fear losses are more motivated to engage collectively than those that hope for improvements (Snow et al. 1998).

Following on from such considerations, examples can be found in today’s human rights context that represent threats. The following diagram lists some of these. It should be noted that any threats always have a subjective dimension. It is therefore always a matter of threat perception, which can also be additionally strengthened or weakened by the respective actors. The framing processes already mentioned play a significant role in this (Table 2.2).

Table 2.2 Threats relevant to human rights

2.4.5 Protests and Protest Repertoire

An early finding of the studies on political opportunity structures was that very open and less repressive political systems tend to have low levels of protest, as in this case social groups would tend to raise their concerns within the framework of institutionalised politics. However, the frequency of protests is also low in highly repressive, closed political systems, since in this case mobilisation is associated with high costs. Between these two poles, i.e. with a mix of open and closed opportunity structures, the frequency of protest is highest from this perspective⁴⁹—a thesis that is plausible, but which did not stand up to empirical testing without reservation even then, and would also have to be tested empirically today.

However, there is no doubt that a large number of protests are taking place worldwide, which, according to a recent Protest Event Analysis (PEA),⁵⁰ increased between 2006 and 2020.⁵¹ The almost 3000 protests recorded in the study are classified thematically, depending on whether they are directed (a) against a failure of political representation or the political system (lack of “real” democracy, corruption, etc.), (b) against economic injustice and austerity policies, or c) for civil and minority rights, or (d) for global justice and a better international system. In substance, many of these protests have a connection to human rights.

The contentious/protest repertoire that is used worldwide is diverse. It encompasses a broad spectrum of institutional and extra-institutional, conventional and unconventional, legal and illegal forms of political action. Sometimes it also involves violent actions. A pioneering study by Gene Sharp in 1973 already identified 198 forms of nonviolent action. Ortiz et al. (2022) largely adopted the list, modified it slightly in some places and added further actions, so that they arrived at a total of 250 non-violent forms of protest. The following is a condensed selection of non-violent protest possibilities (Table 2.3).

Table 2.3 Protest repertoire

However, the diversity of protest forms should not obscure the fact that the protest repertoire in the respective countries reveals consistencies.

Repertoires vary from place to place, time to time, and pair to pair. But on the whole, when people make collective claims, they innovate within limits set by the repertoire already established for their place, time, and pair (Tilly 2006, p. 35).

In his work, Charles Tilly in particular repeatedly pointed out that the repertoire of contentious politics used in each case was strongly shaped by historical experience and structural conditions. Against this background, in “Regimes and Repertoires” (2006) he therefore also posed the question how changes in the protest repertoire can nevertheless occur. He distinguished between situations in which previous forms of protest had no effect, a weak effect, a strong effect, or a rigid effect on later protest behaviour (Tilly 2006, pp. 39–40).

More generally, Tilly assumes that “strong” repertoires exist in routinely operating, relatively stable regimes, in which familiar forms of behaviour persist but are innovated and developed further flexibly (for example, for strategic reasons). In the long term, the (mainly incremental) innovations could then lead to a change in the contentious repertoires (Tilly 2006, p. 43). Following on from political opportunity structures approaches, he conversely assumes that changes in political opportunity structures lead to a change in contention: “Rapidly shifting threats and opportunities, I suggest, generally move powerholders towards rigid repertoires and challengers towards more flexible repertoires” (Tilly 2006, p. 44).

It should also be noted that not all forms of civil society human rights engagement that have proven successful in vibrant democracies are suited to or possible for autocracies. Not surprisingly, institutionalised and informal opportunities for human rights organisations to advise or lobby political decision-makers are generally limited or non-existent in autocracies. However, also the extra-institutional possibilities of bringing human rights demands to the attention of politicians by means of public criticism and protests reach their limits insofar as the media and public opinion are more tightly controlled and autocratic governments tend to be less open and responsive to human rights demands. There may be attempts to co-opt human rights activists; for example, critics may be specifically accepted into the government or have other public offices conferred on them. However, in most cases—also with the help of support groups in society—attempts are made to delegitimise, illegalise and repress human rights criticism and protests to a greater or lesser extent. This is often accompanied by considerable personal disadvantages and dangers for their initiators and participants. Many defamed, criminalised and persecuted human rights activists have had to (and still have to) experience this painfully.

Sometimes, however, windows of opportunity can also open in autocratic regimes, so that social movements emerge or grow stronger despite adverse contextual conditions. Events that strengthen people’s conviction that something finally needs to be changed and that something can be changed are of great importance. This can, for example, be a local protest that—as in the case of the “Arab Spring”—spreads to the whole country or even to neighbouring countries in the sense of a “contagion effect” and is joined by more and more people. But it can also be a current event—such as blatant electoral fraud—that triggers outrage. The “Rose Revolution” in Georgia in 2003, the “Orange Revolution” in Ukraine in 2004 and the “Tulip Revolution” in Kyrgyzstan in 2005 bear witness to this. In the GDR, too, the blatant electoral fraud during the 1989 local elections gave impetus to the protest movement.

As already mentioned, the (not always rationally justified)⁵² belief that something can be changed through collective action is essential—a belief that can be further strengthened through participation in large protest movements. But even in democracies, the possibilities of influence are often overestimated if it is not possible to permanently maintain the “pressure of the street” or to bring the concerns of social movements to bear within the framework of institutionalised politics. More sobering—even bearing in mind some protest successes—are the experiences of many mass protests in autocracies. The belief in change and the supposed security of the masses can be deceptive. Recent examples in Venezuela (2018/19), Nicaragua (2018/19), Hong Kong (2019/2020), Belarus (2020), Myanmar (2021) and Iran (2022/2023) illustrate how even impressive mass protests can remain unsuccessful, fade out and be silenced by repression. At the very least, windows of opportunity usually close after a certain time, and often through repression.

2.4.6 Repression and Repertoire of Repression

The available but also changing protest and repression repertoire of the conflicting actors in the respective fields of action and the arenas in which they are played out also determines their tactics and strategies. From a human rights perspective, the central question is whether and under what conditions violence is used and what its consequences are.

Repressive violence can have different effects on the development of social protest and human rights movements. On the one hand, the experience of state repression can lead to mass protests even from local protests (for example, because of the increase in the price of bread, bus fares, petrol, etc.), if people are outraged by excesses of violence in confrontation with the state—and at the same time the regime is not able to nip the protest movement in the bud or suppress it. State arbitrariness and repression can thus form the clip which joins together the protests of very different population groups with very different interests. This was demonstrated, to name just one of many examples, by the outbreak of the protest movements of the “Arab Spring” in Tunisia (2010).

On the other hand, we also know from the discussion about a shrinking (or closed) political space for civil society⁵³ how difficult it can be, especially under politically repressive conditions, for civil society groups to organise and act at all. A minimum amount of socio-political freedom is thus considered a prerequisite for civil society to be effective, especially in the area of human rights. This is where the political opportunity structures make a big difference. In many states around the world, civil society freedoms are not “open”, but to a greater or lesser extent “narroved”, “obstructed”, “repressed” or even “closed”.⁵⁴ An extreme example is North Korea, where repression, coupled with omnipresent propaganda and indoctrination, leaves no room at all for a free civil society.

Repressive power is therefore also a limiting factor for collective action. Even when peaceful protest movements emerge under repressive conditions, as was the case for a time in Belarus, state power is often able to suppress them quickly (as was the case there after the 2010 elections) or even after weeks of impressive mass protests (as was the case after the 2020 elections), in this case through large-scale arrests and intimidation. In Russia, too, state power is now extremely effective in suppressing criticism and protests. Likewise, the leadership of the People’s Republic of China used violence to quell protests in 1989 and has been determined to break resistance during subsequent protest movements through repressive security laws, systematic arrests and prosecutions.

The mobilisation power of protest movements can dwindle as a result of repression if people see themselves permanently exposed to risk. This is especially true if the “heads” and more or less wide circles of supporters are persecuted. In order to reduce the pressure of persecution, forms of protest can sometimes be creatively adapted to repressive conditions (see Johnston 2018). However, in view of the dangers, a (large) number of the protesters may refrain from political action and withdraw temporarily or permanently into their own private spaces. Others may leave the country and go abroad, and there are some who may even become radicalised.

The radicalisation of originally peaceful protest movements has traditionally been the subject of comparative research on political violence and revolution, which will not be discussed here. Just this much: the emergence and, above all, the growth of violent protest movements has a lot to do with whether non-violent alternatives exist and have the potential to be successful, in addition to possible ideological reasons. For example, the discrediting of peaceful transformation alternatives and massive repression on the part of the regime can lead to protest movements becoming radicalised or more radical parts of the movement gaining tremendous popularity if peaceful change does not seem possible. The social-revolutionary unrest in Central America in the late 1970s and early 1980s is a good example of this (Krumwiede 1987; Krennerich 1993).

From the perspective of political rulers, the use of repression is therefore a double-edged sword. However, repression is not the only instrument of power used by autocrats. Here, the resurgence of political science research on autocracies in the 2000s has contributed a great deal to the understanding of repression as an instrument of power and examined its significance in the interplay with autocratic legitimation and co-optation practices, especially from the perspective of the resilience of autocracies (e.g. Gerschewski 2013). Once again, it became clear that the repertoire of actions of autocrats is by no means limited to repression and that the intensity and forms of repression can also differ considerably. Autocratic regimes vary among themselves in terms of how much and what kind of criticism and protests they allow; how much they control not only political institutions and the judiciary, but also the media and the public sphere; how much they determine people's everyday lives. Even within the same country, the level of repression can vary considerably, both over time and in relation to specific conflicts. While in some respects there may be socio-political room for criticism and protest, on the other hand there may be outright taboo subjects to which political leaders are almost allergic.

How diverse repression can be is evident not least in the context of the discussion already mentioned about the shrinking or already limited scope for political action for civil society, especially in the persecution of human rights defenders.⁵⁵ It ranges from the defamation and slander of those affected as “traitors to the fatherland”, “foreign henchmen”, “troublemakers” or “terrorists” to bureaucratic harassment, fictitious accusations, restrictive (used) laws and the criminal prosecution of those affected in disregard of the principles of the rule of law to sheer repression, by means of which the physical and psychological integrity as well as the lives of those affected are violated. The following diagram outlines the repertoire of repression to which human rights defenders in particular are also exposed (Table 2.4).

Table 2.4 Repression repertoire

Traditionally, the focus has been on physical persecution and arbitrary detention and prosecution. As important as this is, however, the focus should also be on bureaucratic and legal restrictions that seek to prevent criticism of the regime and human rights in a more subtle way. This is the purpose of, for example:

• rigid registration requirements for NGOs, which serve as a lever for the government to deny registration to unwelcome associations or to “discipline” them and deprive them completely or temporarily of the legal basis for their activities;

• the ban on political activities of non-registered NGOs, which can be applied at any time against regime-critical organisations that are not registered, as they see fit;

• disclosure obligations and requirements regarding the funding of NGOs in order to prevent—with reference to national sovereignty—in particular support from abroad;

• fiscal constraints and selective financial audits that hinder the work of critical NGOs or result in criminal penalties for individuals;

• the denial of permission for unwelcome demonstrations and events by the authorities as well as restrictions due to restrictive laws on assembly;

• the denial of licences to independent media as well as media laws that allow legal interventions against critical media workers; internet control, censorhip and shutdowns;

• counter-terrorism laws and measures targeted at dissident activists, who are then accused of being terrorists or supporting them;

• criminal law provisions—from insult to betrayal of secrets—used to initiate criminal proceedings against persons and organisations critical of the regime.

The UN Special Rapporteurs on the situation of human rights defenders have highlighted the widespread nature of the problem in their reports on freedom of association and assembly,⁵⁶ and human rights organisations around the world have also documented restrictions. It is also worrying when governments, together with powerful social and religious groups and media loyal to the regime, deliberately stir up public opinion against regime critics and human rights defenders.

In summary, in countries with high levels of repression, human rights violations can be an important motivation for people to revolt, but they can also silence civil society protests, especially when the full repertoire of repression is applied.

2.4.7 The Power of Emotions

After the mostly early mass psychology in the tradition of Gustave Le Bon (“Psychologie des foules”) had seen mass protests as irrational, affect-driven behaviour, emotions initially played a subordinate role in protest and movement research from the 1960s onwards due to a “radical shift towards rational explanatory approaches” (Bogerts 2015, p. 229). Instead, social movements were seen primarily as rational and strategically acting collective actors and were viewed from an organisational and structural perspective, especially evident in the context of (early) resource mobilisation and political opportunity structures approaches. Relative deprivation approaches, however, referred to dissatisfaction and anger as motivations for action.

Lateron, when framing processes and collective identities moved into the academic focus within the framework of the “cultural turn” in the social sciences, also emotions became more important. It is precisely the mobilising framing that addresses not only cognitive but also emotional aspects of mobilising social movements, and the concept of collective identity cannot function without emotional attachment. However, this did not go far enough for researchers who were particularly concerned with emotions and social movements. They criticised the fact that even after the “cultural turn”, the focus was primarily on cognitive aspects and, in the sense of an “emotional turn”, considered stable and transient feelings to be a central element in the mobilisation of protest movements (Jasper 1997; Jasper 2011; Goodwin et al. 2001). Above all, moral feelings—in the words of William Gamson (1995) hot cognitions—are thus an important motivation to join protests. With this in mind, Jasper and Poletta (2019, p. 70) state: “Moral emotions are one category of background emotions central to the emergence of protest”. Empirical studies now focus specifically on emotions during protests.⁵⁷

It is universally recognised that emotions play an important role in mobilising people and that moral indignation is particularly effective. In the field of human rights, this can be evoked, for example, by personal experiences of state oppression, by shocking events (moral shocks) and the disclosure of “outrageous” injustices, as well as by denouncing serious human rights violations and naming and shaming those responsible for them. This is often reinforced by powerful linguistic and visual⁵⁸ representations. Human rights movements also try to appeal to strong emotions, such as a sense of injustice, through appropriate narratives and images in order to mobilise people for their cause. This can create powerful feelings of solidarity that guide actions.

The process of participation in social movements is also usually associated with emotions,⁵⁹ especially since it can contribute to the emergence or strengthening of common feelings and identities in joint actions. In the field of human rights, for example, this is where appeals to the moral self-expectations and conscience of those involved come in. Additionally, through the formation of collective identities and a “sense of togetherness”, a possible need for belonging to like-minded people and for social demarcation from those who think differently is addressed. The advantageous comparison between “us” and “the others” can—from a socio-psychological point of view—lead to a revaluation of collective and individual identities. Pride can also replace any shame, as the gay pride movement has succeeded in doing (e.g. Britt and Heise 2000; Bruce 2016). At the same time, collective action can strengthen feelings of self-efficacy, so that individuals overcome feelings of political powerlessness in the context of collective protests and feel like subjects of history. There may also be a shared “pleasure of protest” (Jasper 1997).

However, it becomes problematic when the focus is no longer on the cause but on the event character or, conversely, when a “protest fatigue” gradually spreads. Nor are social movements homogeneous. They not only unite different collective (partial) identities of the individuals, groups and organisations that support them, which strengthen and complement each other, or can also find themselves in a tense relationship and compete with each other. As in all large groups, there is also disagreement, envy and rivalry, which can significantly diminish feelings of group solidarity and “emotional energy”. Finally, leaders can also motivate in different ways: “(L)eaders who are not charismatic, hopeful, or effective in making blame stick are likely to undermine rather than fire-up a movement” (Van Ness and Summers-Effler 2019, p. 417). It is therefore worthwhile examining the internal structures and processes of human rights movements and the organisations and networks involved in them more closely at the micro level, for example through participant observation and interviews, and to take a closer look at the emergence and dynamics of emotions.

At the same time, account must be taken of the fact that individual and collective emotions can also be directed against human rights movements. The anti-gender movement, for example, is highly emotionally charged. It is not uncommon for the state to stir up emotions in order to delegitimise criticism of human rights. Then, with the corresponding emotional pathos, human rights defenders, for example, are discredited as traitors to the fatherland. Research on authoritarianism also shows how sentementality—understood as an interplay of cognitive processes of forming opinions and judgments with affective and emotional dynamics (Bens and Zenker 2019)—can be used to stabilise power (Demmelhuber and Thies 2023). The rich set of emotional repertoires can, for example, be linked to national foundation myths, collective traumas, heroisations and retrotopias and always oscillates between the present and the past. As such, emotional repertoires are always tied to the respective cultural context in which people are socialised.

2.4.8 Take Cultural Contexts Into Account!

Cultural contexts of social movements can be viewed in different ways. Based on a broad concept of culture as “shared mental worlds and their embodiments” (Jasper 1997, p. 12), cultural contexts can be understood—not in an essentialist sense, mind you—as widely shared, changeable and socially constructed values, attitudes and practices in (more or less heterogeneous) societies and social groups. If these change in the course of social change and emancipation efforts, this leads to new collective actors and conflict (lines) within (and possibly also between) societies. For example, secularisation and women’s emancipation went hand in hand with demands for legal and de facto equal participation and involvement.

At the same time, cultural contexts also affect how collective (partial) identities are formed within social organisations and movements and how people are mobilised, organise themselves, network and act. The narratives and framing that are used (and ideally find resonance) to mobilise people are as much shaped by established but changeable cultural constructions as the emotions that are addressed against the backdrop of individual and collective experiences and attitudes during protests.

The resources available to civil society actors (and their opponents) can also differ considerably from one culture to another, and the protesters’ repertoire of actions is subject to cultural influences. Even the structuralist Charles Tilly (2006, p. 43) emphasises that contentious repertoires are “simultaneously deeply cultural and deeply structural; they certainly rest on shared understandings and their representations in symbols and practices (that is, on culture), but they also respond to the organisation of their social settings”. Culturally shaped, subjective assessments come into play, for example, of which forms of action are justified, appropriate and promising. This applies not only to the protest repertoire, but to a certain extent even to the repression repertoire of governments.

However, this also means that some human rights protests in one specific country may not be understood in other political and cultural contexts.⁶⁰ The repertoire of actions that protesters in their own country associate with human rights protests by default or innovatively may not be appropriate everywhere. This applies not only to the fact that in many countries protest strategies have to be creatively adapted to authoritarian-repressive restrictions and dangers, but also to the question of which forms of protest are established and practised in cultural contexts elsewhere and to what extent they change. This ranges from the question how clearly criticism is formulated by whom towards whom and which symbols and narratives are used to concrete possibilities for action. What may be recognised as an appropriate form of criticism and protest in certain cultural contexts and environments may be tantamount to a (deliberate or unintentional) breach of taboos in others.

To that effect, there are also “discursive opportunity structures” (Koopmans and Olzak 2004), which are determined by restrictions, but also by possibilities. They are not only dependent on the extent to which the state restricts or allows freedom of expression. Within society, too, there are linguistic borders when it comes to what can be said, which can, of course, be expanded—both in an emancipatory and in a reactionary sense. This is shown not least by the “Kulturkampf” that has flared up in some places over the recognition of gender identities, or also by the dispute over a “cancel culture” that is being conducted in battle mode on both sides. Even moderate demands for a gender-sensitive and discrimination-free language show how difficult it is for people to say goodbye to traditional linguistic habits, even if these are obviously tainted by discrimination. Thus, progressive views are always controversial, have to assert themselves against traditional views and at the same time stand up to reactionary ones.

2.4.9 Do Not Forget the Socio-Economic Context!

Originally, social movements were understood primarily as a reaction to economic and social change. This begins, on the one hand, with early communist, socialist and anarchist reflections on the conditions for the emergence and prospects of success of the labour movement, which placed the focus on the class struggle. On the other hand, there are studies that, in the tradition of Gustave Le Bon, also saw the dynamics and actions of mass movements as a consequence of profound economic and social upheavals but tried to explain them in terms of mass psychology, initially primarily as irrational, emotionally charged behaviour. Eventually, approaches were added that understood social movements as rational collective action in times of rapid social change, in which new social actors and alliances emerged, new forms of interaction and norms were negotiated, and modernisation crises had to be overcome.

The aforementioned deprivation approaches also often saw processes of social change as causal for social movements and emphasised the emergence and consequences of the associated subjective dissatisfaction, which would then turn into protests. Political opportunity structures approaches and political process analyses, on the other hand, assumed that socio-structural change would create opportunities and threats that would have a mobilising effect. And yet, with the emergence of “new”, post-materialist social movements in countries of the “Global North”, the socio-economic determinants of social protest movements were temporarily neglected.

Especially outside of affluent western societies, however, socio-economic lines of conflict retained their formative influence. From the end of the 20th century, protests against structural adjustment programmes and neoliberal policies in many countries around the world also gained in political significance.⁶¹ Many protests⁶² and numerous critical publications are still directed against the consequences of austerity policies and neoliberalism—and later also of economic and financial crises.⁶³ They particularly emphasised social grievances and the societal consequences of neoliberal policies, sometimes combined with a disdain for civil-political human rights.⁶⁴ Not infrequently, criticism of neoliberalism was even linked to criticism of human rights themselves, whereby human rights were often reduced to their liberal defensive character or even to a—certainly unacceptable—libertarian understanding. According to this interpretation, human rights were or are supposedly central to a neoliberal project (Whyte 2019) or at least a powerless companion of neoliberalism (Moyn 2018).

What has not been sufficiently appreciated is that economic, social and cultural human rights have gained considerable importance since the end of the 20th century and that the demands that go along with them are often clearly directed against neoliberal economic policies and social models. Whether it is exploitative resource extraction and free trade agreements, water privatisation and land speculation or the economisation of education and health care, critical human rights voices can be heard everywhere, both at the UN level and in the countries of the “Global South”. As the persecution of human rights defenders who advocate for ESC rights shows e contrario, the implementation of these rights also depends on civil and political human rights. In a sophisticated, critical-emancipatory sense, human rights can thus be understood as a comprehensive legal and socio-political project, precisely in order to defend against social ills and to demand more social justice (Krennerich 2021).

2.4.10 The Ecological Context

Environmental degradation, loss of biodiversity and climate crisis form the context in which social change is taking place with increasing momentum. More and more collective actors are coming onto the scene who quite rightly see the very basis of life on the planet as being existentially threatened. Throughout the world, environmental and climate movements are calling for a fundamental, radical change in the way we use natural resources as well as in the way we do business, generate energy, and change our living, consumption and mobility habits. The already predicted ecological and climatic changes will fundamentally alter future living conditions, considerably intensify existing intra-societal as well as inter-state conflicts and generate many more.

This also has far-reaching consequences for the human rights of existing and future generations and for civil society human rights engagement. What is interesting to see is the extent to which and under what conditions human rights and climate activists act together. Under what conditions do transnational networks, coalitions and movements form in this field? So far, the heterogeneous environmental and climate movement—when it is not about human rights violations against activists—has only marginally referred to human rights. This may be due to the anthropocentric orientation and the individual rights structure of human rights (the communitarian dimensions of which are often overlooked). In addition, human rights have blind spots with regard to the rights of future generations.

On the other hand, human rights also formulate important individual rights in respect of climate protection and thus complement environmental law, which primarily concerns states. To what extent are strategic litigation or even the language of human rights used as catalysts to advocate for climate justice? And aren’t civil and political human rights the very prerequisite for being able to put forward and enforce climate policy demands?

The topic of “human rights in the climate crisis” could be used to illustrate how inseparable civil, political, economic, social, cultural and—going further—ecological human rights are. Significantly, climate activists and defenders of economic, social and cultural human rights are also at risk and affected by a shrinking or closed political space for civil society. This affects not least indigenous peoples, who have special rights (and a unique relationship to nature). They are particularly affected by ecological change, and possibly also by climate protection measures.