Recognising Human Rights in Different

Cultural Contexts: The United Nations

Convention on the Rights of Persons
with Disabilities (CRPD) Emily Julia
Kakoullis
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://textbookfull.com/product/recognising-human-rights-in-different-cultural-context
s-the-united-nations-convention-on-the-rights-of-persons-with-disabilities-crpd-emily-j
ulia-kakoullis/
More products digital (pdf, epub, mobi) instant
download maybe you interests ...

The United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons

with Disabilities A Commentary 1st Edition Valentina
Della Fina

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-united-nations-convention-
on-the-rights-of-persons-with-disabilities-a-commentary-1st-
edition-valentina-della-fina/

The American Convention on Human Rights : essential

rights 1st Edition Antkowiak

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-american-convention-on-
human-rights-essential-rights-1st-edition-antkowiak/

The United Nations And Human Rights: A Critical

Appraisal 2nd Edition Frédéric Mégret

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-united-nations-and-human-
rights-a-critical-appraisal-2nd-edition-frederic-megret/

General Principles of the European Convention on Human

Rights 1st Edition Janneke Gerards

https://textbookfull.com/product/general-principles-of-the-
european-convention-on-human-rights-1st-edition-janneke-gerards/
The Theory Potential and Practice of Procedural
Dialogue in the European Convention on Human Rights
System 77 Human Rights Research Series First Edition R
Glas Lize
https://textbookfull.com/product/the-theory-potential-and-
practice-of-procedural-dialogue-in-the-european-convention-on-
human-rights-system-77-human-rights-research-series-first-
edition-r-glas-lize/

The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea 1st

Edition Siig

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-united-nations-convention-
on-the-law-of-the-sea-1st-edition-siig/

The European Convention on Human Rights : a commentary

1st Edition William A. Schabas

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-european-convention-on-
human-rights-a-commentary-1st-edition-william-a-schabas/

The Cultural Defense of Nations A Liberal Theory of

Majority Rights Liav Orgad

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-cultural-defense-of-nations-
a-liberal-theory-of-majority-rights-liav-orgad/

The American Convention On Human Right Crucial Rights

And Their Theory And Practice Cecilia Medina Quiroga

https://textbookfull.com/product/the-american-convention-on-
human-right-crucial-rights-and-their-theory-and-practice-cecilia-
medina-quiroga/
Recognising Human Rights in
Different Cultural Contexts
The United Nations Convention
on the Rights of Persons
with Disabilities (CRPD)
Edited by
Emily Julia Kakoullis
Kelley Johnson
 Recognising Human Rights in Different
Cultural Contexts

“When the Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities was accepted
by the United Nations General Assembly in 2006, the work of human rights was
only just beginning. This varied and fascinating book reveals some of the ways
in which national contexts and cultures adopted and implemented the
Convention into local use. We need urgently to understand the complexity of
implementing disability equality, and this collection is of inestimable help in
that task.”
—Professor Tom Shakespeare, London School of
Hygiene and Tropical Medicine

“An important addition to the field of disability rights, highlighting the role of
culture(s)—legal, social, and identity—on international law-making processes,
interpretation and implementation. With ‘snapshots’ of the journey of the
CRPD post-ratification across and within nations, Recognising Human Rights in
Different Cultural Contexts provides a first of its kind look into dynamics and
embedded values that affect the struggle for human rights of persons with
disabilities.”
—Assistant Professor Maya Sabatello, Columbia University

“Culture can be a powerful influence on the way in which international law is

adopted or resisted, and this book acts as a timely reminder of its importance.
Drawing on evidence from the United Nations Convention on the Rights of
Persons with Disabilities, the authors provide a sensitive, unique and insightful
portrayal of the intersection between legislative directive and its translation into
practice in different cultural contexts, within and between societies. It is a
thought-provoking and interesting book that addresses complexity and diversity
but in itself is well-structured and inclusive in its approach.”
—Professor Pauline Heslop, University of Bristol
Emily Julia Kakoullis • Kelley Johnson
Editors

Recognising Human
Rights in Different
Cultural Contexts
The United Nations Convention
on the Rights of Persons
with Disabilities (CRPD)
Editors
Emily Julia Kakoullis Kelley Johnson
School of Law and Politics Social Policy Research Centre
Cardiff University UNSW
Cardiff, UK Sydney, Australia

ISBN 978-981-15-0785-4    ISBN 978-981-15-0786-1 (eBook)

https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-15-0786-1

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s) 2020

This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether
the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of
illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and trans-
mission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or
dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed.
The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication
does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant
protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use.
The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book
are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or
the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any
errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional
claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Singapore Pte Ltd.
The registered company address is: 152 Beach Road, #21-01/04 Gateway East, Singapore 189721,
Singapore
 We dedicate this book to persons who identify as persons with disabilities
and their allies who are engaged in working to achieve their human rights
at global, State and local levels.
 Acknowledgements

We thank the contributors for their work, commitment, and patience

during the development of this book. We thank Joshua Pitt for his
patience and support in the journey towards the realisation of this book
and Marie Selwood for her assistance with copyediting. We also thank
our friends and families for their patience, love and support in this journey.

vii
 Contents

1 Introduction  1
Emily Julia Kakoullis and Kelley Johnson

Part I Culture, Disability and the CRPD  17

2 Legal Culture and the CRPD 19

Gerard Quinn

3 Anthropology, Disability and the CRPD 45

James G. Rice

4 Recognising Cultural Diversity: Implications for Persons

with Disabilities 63
Kelley Johnson

5 A Personal Reflection on Indigeneity, Colonisation and

the CRPD 79
Huhana Hickey

ix
x Contents

Part II The Ratification Process: To Be or Not to Be?  95

6 The Failure of the United States to Ratify the CRPD 97

Arlene S. Kanter

7 The Long Road to Ratification: Ireland and the CRPD133

Eilionóir Flynn

8 A Consultative Culture? The Ratification Process for the

CRPD in Cyprus157
Emily Julia Kakoullis

9 A Janus-Faced Affair: Sri Lanka’s Ratification of the

CRPD179
Dinesha Samararatne

Part III Making Disability Human Rights Happen? Cultural

Challenges to Implementing the CRPD 201

10 The ‘Transposition’ of Article 12 of the CRPD in China

and Its Potential Impact on Chinese Legal Capacity Law
and Culture203
Huang Yi

11 Implementation of Article 19 of the CRPD in Hungary

and Its Impact on the Deinstitutionalisation Process So
Far227
Magdi Birtha

12 Implementing Article 19 of the CRPD in Nordic Welfare

States: The Culture of Welfare and the CRPD257
Ciara Brennan and Rannveig Traustadóttir
 Contents xi

13 Article 30 of the CRPD as a Vehicle for Social

Transformation: Harnessing the CRPD’s Potential for
Persons with Intellectual Disabilities269
Matthew S. Smith and Michael Ashley Stein

Part IV Monitoring the CRPD: Resolving Conflicting

Interests? 295

14 Was Ratification of the CRPD the High Watermark for

United Kingdom Disability Rights? Ten Years of
Monitoring Implementation of the CRPD297
Neil Crowther and Liz Sayce OBE

15 The Role of Disabled People’s Organisations in Promoting

the CRPD in Indonesia333
Dina Afrianty

16 The Process of State Party Reporting to the CRPD

Committee: The Indian Experience353
Amita Dhanda

17 Conclusion377
Kelley Johnson and Emily Julia Kakoullis

Index387
 Notes on Contributors

Dina Afrianty is a Research Fellow at La Trobe Law School, La Trobe

University, Melbourne; is affiliated with the State Islamic University
(UIN); and is the founder of Australia-Indonesia Disability Research and
Advocacy Network (AIDRAN). AIDRAN receives funding from the
Knowledge Sector Initiative partnership with Indonesia’s National
Development Planning Agency. Afrianty’s research focuses on the inter-
section of law, politics, gender, and religion in Muslim societies and the
human rights of persons with disabilities in Indonesia. Her publications
include the book Women and Sharia Law in Indonesia and articles on
gender, women’s movements for policy reform, and disability rights
movements in Indonesia.

Magdi Birtha is a Researcher at the European Centre for Social Welfare

Policy and Research, a Vienna-based intergovernmental organisation
affiliated to the United Nations. She is also a Research Affiliate at the
Centre for Disability Law and Policy (CDLP) at the National University
of Ireland (NUI). Prior to that Birtha was a Marie Skłodowska-Curie
PhD Research Fellow, part of the DREAM (Disability Rights Expanding
Accessible Markets) Project at the CDLP. She holds expertise in the areas
of CRPD monitoring, legal capacity, independent living, accessibility,
social inclusion, and political participation of persons with disabilities.

xiii
xiv Notes on Contributors

Ciara Brennan holds a PhD in Disability Studies from the University of

Iceland. Her doctoral thesis The Nordic experience of independent living
and personal assistance a human rights approach explored the complexities
of implementing Article 19 of the CRPD at EU and EU Member State
level. She has ten years of experience as a disability rights researcher. In
2009 she joined the National Institute for Intellectual Disability at Trinity
College Dublin. Her most recent work focuses on advancing reproduc-
tive rights for women in the Republic of Ireland.

Neil Crowther is an Independent Expert on the rights of persons with

disabilities and consultant supporting social change. He has led and con-
tributed to research in the field of disability rights including into the
progress of European countries in implementing the right of persons
with disabilities to independent living, for the EU Agency for Fundamental
Rights (FRA) and the European Commission. He has acted as specialist
adviser to the United Kingdom (UK) Joint Parliamentary Committee on
Human Rights and supported UK civil society to prepare its submissions
to the CRPD Committee.

Amita Dhanda is Professor of Law at NALSAR (National Academy of

Legal Studies and Research) University of Law, where she also heads the
Centre for Disability Studies and the Centre for Legal Philosophy and
Justice Education. She is an international expert in the field of disability
human rights who has not just argued for the human rights claims of
persons with disabilities but also demonstrated how disability human
rights would strengthen the human rights of all. Her book Legal Order
and Mental Disorder is an evidence-based exposition on how the denial of
legal capacity caused discrimination to be effectuated by the law.

Eilionóir Flynn is Established Professor of Law and Director of the

Centre for Disability Law and Policy (CDLP) at the National University
of Ireland (NUI). Her work on disability rights is widely published, and
her research interests include legal capacity, access to justice, and the
intersectionality of disability, gender, and ageing. She regularly collabo-
rates with civil society organisations and disabled people’s organisations
(DPOs) at national and international levels. In Ireland, she co-ordinated
 Notes on Contributors xv

the Civil Society Legal Capacity Coalition to influence the drafting of the
Assisted Decision-Making (Capacity) Act, and internationally she has
supported the Secretariat of the CRPD Committee.

Huhana Hickey holds an LLB/BSoc Sci, LLM, and a PhD in Law and
Tikanga Maori from the University of Waikato. She was a solicitor at
Auckland Disability Law and a Māori Research Fellow at the Taupua
Waiora Māori Health Research Unit at the Auckland University of
Technology. Hickey was the indigenous peoples’ representative for the
International Disability Association Steering Group Caucus during the
development of the CRPD. She was awarded the New Zealand Order of
Merit in 2015 for her services to the Māori and disability community.
She holds several governance roles, has sat on several ethics committee,
and is a life member of Rostrevor House in the Waikato.

Kelley Johnson holds Honorary Professorial appointments at Deakin

University and University of New South Wales (UNSW) in Australia.
She is an internationally known scholar who has been a researcher and
advocate with persons with disabilities for more than 20 years in Australia
and internationally. Her recent previously held positions include Director,
Social Policy Research Centre at UNSW, and Director of the Norah Fry
Research Centre in Bristol, UK. Johnson has an ongoing commitment to
inclusive research which involves persons with disabilities undertaking
research on issues that are important in their lives. Her research interests
include deinstitutionalisation, community participation of persons with
disabilities, sexuality and relationships, and rights with a particular focus
on the CRPD.

Emily Julia Kakoullis is a Lecturer at the School of Law and Politics at

Cardiff University in the UK. She has worked as a research fellow at the
University of Exeter and held an honorary research fellow position at the
University of Bristol. Prior to a career in academia, Kakoullis worked as a
researcher at the Ministry of Justice in the UK, and for a disability NGO
in Cyprus where she engaged in advocacy work with persons with
disabilities.
xvi Notes on Contributors

Arlene S. Kanter is the Laura J. and L. Douglas Meredith Professor for

Teaching Excellence and Professor of Law at Syracuse University College
of Law. She is the founder and Director of the College of Law’s Disability
Law and Policy Program (DLPP). The DLPP houses the United States’s
first joint degree programme in Law and Disability Studies. Kanter is an
internationally acclaimed expert in international and comparative dis-
ability law. She publishes and lectures extensively on domestic and inter-
national human rights and disability law and policy. Her most recent
book, The Development of Disability Rights Under International Law: From
Charity to Human Rights, traces the development of the CRPD.

Gerard Quinn was the founding director of the Centre for Disability
Law and Policy (CDLP) at the National University of Ireland (NUI); he
now holds the Wallenberg Chair at the Raoul Wallenberg Institute,
University of Lund, and also holds a part-time Chair at the University of
Leeds. He holds Honorary Chairs at NALSAR, India, and Wuhan
University, China. He led the delegation of Rehabilitation International
and later the global network of national human rights institutions
(NHRIs) during the drafting of the CRPD. He was a member of the
research advisory board of the EU Agency for Fundamental Rights
(FRA). His research interests include the protection of persons with dis-
abilities during armed conflicts.

James G. Rice is Assistant Professor of Anthropology at the School of

Social Sciences, University of Iceland. He received his doctorate in
Anthropology from Memorial University of Newfoundland, Canada, in
2007 and has been a member of the Centre for Disability Studies,
University of Iceland, since 2008. He is an academic adviser for the
Disability before Disability project (funded by The Icelandic Centre for
Research) and a member of the European Commission Marie Curie
Training Network DARE (Disability Advocacy and Research for Europe).
He has recently published in the journals ALTER, Human Organization,
Social Inclusion, Laws, and Journal of Applied Research in Intellectual
Disabilities.
 Notes on Contributors xvii

Dinesha Samararatne is a Senior Lecturer at the Department of Public

and International Law, Faculty of Law, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
She is a Public and International Law scholar with expertise in human
rights law. Samararatne has carried out research on the rights of rural
women with disabilities in Sri Lanka and is a member of the Disability
and the Global South Editorial Board.

Liz Sayce OBE is a Joseph Rowntree Foundation (JRF) Practitioner

Fellow at the International Inequalities Institute, London School of
Economics (LSE). She was Chief Executive of Disability Rights UK (and
its legacy charity Radar) from 2007 to 2017, and she is Chair of the
Commission for Equality in Mental Health, UK. Sayce is a non-­executive
director of the Care Quality Commission (CQC) and a member of the
Disability Advisory Committee of the Equality and Human Rights
Commission (EHRC), and the Committee of Healthwatch England and
the Social Security Advisory Committee in the UK. She has published
widely on mental health, disability, social participation, and employ-
ment. A Harkness Fellowship in the United States resulted in a book
From Psychiatric Patient to Citizen. Sayce was awarded an Order of the
British Empire (OBE) in 2009 and an honorary doctorate from the
University of Kent in 2014.

Matthew S. Smith is a Research Associate with the Harvard Law School

Project on Disability, where he is responsible for research, advocacy, and
training initiatives in Latin America, Bangladesh, and the United States;
some of his responsibilities include providing technical support to State-
wide self-advocacy organisations in designing and implementing strate-
gies for guardianship reform and providing research and expert testimony
on Mexico’s mental health system. He also is a senior project coordinator
for Supported Decision-Making New York (SDMNY) at Hunter College,
City University of New York, which provides training on and piloting of
novel legal alternatives to guardianship to adults and transition-aged
youth with intellectual disabilities.
xviii Notes on Contributors

Michael Ashley Stein is the Co-founder and Executive Director of the

Harvard Law School Project on Disability, and a Visiting Professor at
Harvard Law School. Stein participated in the drafting of the CRPD,
works with DPOs and NGOs around the world, actively consults with
Governments on their disability laws and policies, and advises a number
of UN bodies and NHRIs. His authoritative and path-breaking scholar-
ship has been published worldwide by leading journals and academic
presses and has been supported by fellowships and awards. Stein holds an
Extraordinary Professorship at the University of Pretoria’s Centre for
Human Rights, is a Visiting Professor at the Free University of Amsterdam,
and teaches at the Harvard Kennedy School of Government.

Rannveig Traustadóttir is a Professor and Director of the Centre for

Disability Studies, School of Social Sciences, University of Iceland. Her
research focuses on violence against disabled women, independent living
and personal assistance, and how the CRPD can be used to promote full
human rights and equality. She has published 13 books and numerous
articles. Traustadóttir was a founding member of the Nordic Network on
Disability Research (NNDR) and served as its president for many years.
In addition to her academic work, she has been an active advocate for
human rights, and one of her concerns is how activism and academia can
work together in bringing about social change.

Huang Yi is a Post-doctoral Researcher at the Centre of Disability Study

and Public Interest in Shenzhen University, China. Before this, she
received her PhD and LLM from the University of Leeds, and Bachelor
of Law from East China University of Political Science and Law. Her
main research interests lie in human rights law, anti-­discrimination, dis-
ability rights, and Chinese law and legal culture. She also works closely
with practitioners, grassroots NGOs, and advocates in disability-related
areas in China.
 List of Tables

Table 8.1 The processes that took place during each phase of the
journey towards ratification of the CRPD in Cyprus 165
Table 11.1 The six participating institutions in the deinstitutionalisation
process and the number of people leaving institutions 244

xix
 1
Introduction
Emily Julia Kakoullis and Kelley Johnson

While the Convention [CRPD] is important and an outstanding

achievement, the distance between … an international agreement about
human rights and its application for people with disabilities needs to be
explicitly recognised.
(Rioux et al. 2011, p. 480)

One must resist the ‘temptation of elegance’ or the easy assumption that words
alone will bring about the kind of change needed. After all, it is quite easy
for persons and states to agree to language without necessarily thinking
through its implications. There is no guarantee that the new values (really old
values but novel in their application to disability) will be internalised and
then operationalised.
(Quinn 2009, p. 216)

E. J. Kakoullis (*)
School of Law and Politics, Cardiff University, Cardiff, UK
e-mail: KakoullisE@cardiff.ac.uk
K. Johnson
Social Policy Research Centre, UNSW, Sydney, Australia
e-mail: kelley.johnson@unsw.edu.au

© The Author(s) 2020 1

E. J. Kakoullis, K. Johnson (eds.), Recognising Human Rights in Different Cultural
Contexts, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-15-0786-1_1
2 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

1 Introduction
We have chosen these two statements above as an introduction to this
chapter because they articulate the key issue which is the focus of this
book: how the United Nations (UN) Convention on the Rights of
Persons with Disabilities’ (Convention/CRPD 2006) interacts with cul-
tural contexts during its ratification, implementation and monitoring
processes. The CRPD (2006) was adopted by the UN General Assembly
in 2006. By January 2020, 14 years after its adoption, 181 States had rati-
fied it, with 96 States Parties also having ratified its Optional Protocol
(OP-CRPD 2006). This is an impressive record, but it also raises the
issue of how an international human rights treaty interacts with, influ-
ences and is influenced by the specific cultural contexts in which it must
be implemented. The CRPD (2006) has been seen as a ‘paradigm shift’
in relation to how persons with disabilities are constituted in their societ-
ies and as potentially transformative in changing their lives for the better
(Quinn 2009; Kayess and French 2008; Scully 2012). However, its suc-
cess also depends on how States Parties to the CRPD actually interpret it
within their particular historical, social, economic and political contexts,
and how its provisions are reflected in their domestic laws, policies and
practices, in relation to persons with disabilities. The transition from the
CRPD at the international level to specific action within States Parties’
domestic contexts is not a simple legal process but a complex cultural one
(Kakoullis 2015). It is affected by the unique nature of the CRPD that
has sought to not only promote the human rights of persons with dis-
abilities in their societies through its content, but also include them as
active agents in its ratification, implementation and monitoring pro-
cesses. While States Parties are responsible for the interpretation and
translation of International Human Rights Law into domestic law and
policy, how individuals and groups are constituted by those around them
may impact on the ways in which the CRPD is interpreted and may lead
to challenges and change in cultural contexts.
This book’s development has been informed by a number of questions
which arose from our engagement with the human rights of persons with
disabilities within our own States Parties and internationally. These ques-
tions are as follows: what is meant by the concept of ‘culture’ in relation to
 1 Introduction 3

the human rights of persons with disabilities set out in the CRPD? How
important are cultural contexts in shaping how the CRPD’s provisions
are interpreted and implemented by particular States Parties? What cul-
tural factors facilitate or challenge the process of interpreting and trans-
lating the provisions of the CRPD into action for change during the
processes of ratification, implementation and monitoring? How far is the
CRPD recognised as an instrument for social change in particular cul-
tures? In this book we have sought to deepen our understanding of these
questions through engaging with contributors who provide a range of
perspectives to the interaction between cultural contexts and the CRPD.
In this chapter, we begin by providing a statement of our positions as
editors. We then provide a rationale for the specific focus and develop-
ment of this book. Finally, we describe the structure of the book.

2 The Editors’ Positions

Our decision to develop an edited book that focuses on the ways in which
the CRPD and cultural contexts interact originally arose from our indi-
vidual experiences in working with persons with disabilities in different
States and cultures. Our separate interests in the issue of cultural contexts
and International Human Rights Law became a shared one as we worked
together at the University of Bristol, UK. We met in 2009 when Kelley
was a Professor of Disability and Policy at the Norah Fry Centre for
Disability Studies, School for Policy Studies, and Emily was a doctoral
researcher between the Law School and the Norah Fry Centre for
Disability Studies.
Kelley is Australian, and Emily is half-English and half-Cypriot. We
initially worked together in an English university context. Sometimes
we found it challenging to reconcile or to make clear to each other the
issues arising from our particular cultural contexts. This was of par-
ticular importance to Emily whose doctoral research at the time
focused on the ratification process for the CRPD in Cyprus. During
Emily’s doctoral journey, we worked together to develop a shared
understanding of the particular socio-historical-cultural context of
Cyprus in relation to persons with disabilities and of how particular
4 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

English language concepts, such as the ‘social model of disability’ and

‘impairment’, were understood and/or did not have an equivalent
meaning in the Cypriot context, including in the Greek language.
Kelley came from Australia, where the social model of disability was
known and used by disabled peoples’ organisations (DPOs) and where
the CRPD approach to human rights was familiar. In contrast, in
Cyprus, the history and culture were less focused on human rights in
relation to persons with disabilities, and the social model of disability
underpinning the CRPD was little known or used by DPOs. From our
work came an understanding of the importance of particular norms,
history, language and tradition, in shaping and influencing the ways in
which our cultural contexts engaged with the CRPD. Furthermore,
another cultural context arose from our disciplinary backgrounds.
Kelley is a social science researcher, whereas Emily is a socio-­legal
researcher. We had to navigate the very different disciplinary dis-
courses, including language and terminology and the theoretical and
epistemological perspectives in which we operated. From these inter-
actions of perspectives came new learning for both of us.
That journey has largely informed this edited book as we became
increasingly aware of the complexity of interpreting and translating the
CRPD’s provisions into States Parties’ cultural contexts and saw the need
for interdisciplinary approaches to exploring this.

3 A Note on Language
The CRPD recognises that the concept of ‘disability’ is not static but is an
evolving concept (CRPD 2006, Preamble), and it employs a description
of disability that although grounded in the social model of disability is
also influenced by a ‘minority rights approach’1 to disability, ‘person first
language’ (PFL) and a ‘human rights approach’ to disability (CRPD
2006, Art. 1; Lawson 2007; Kanter 2007; Kayess and French 2008;

1
This is also found in the literature as the ‘minority group model’ or the ‘minority group approach’
(Hahn 1996).
 1 Introduction 5

Kakoullis and Ikehara 2018). The language used in this book predomi-
nantly adopts the language used in the CRPD, that of ‘persons with dis-
abilities’, although the phrase ‘disabled persons’ is also sometimes used.
Language used in relation to disability also varies depending on the cul-
tural context.

4 Culture and the CRPD

Since the adoption of the CRPD in 2006, its importance has been recog-
nised in the development of a large and growing body of literature largely
based within a legal discourse. This has provided theoretical analyses of
the CRPD itself as a whole or has focused on particular provisions and/
or their domestic implementation in particular States Parties (Arnardóttir
and Quinn 2009; de Beco 2013, Blanck and Flynn 2017; Fina et al.
2017; O’Mahony and Quinn 2017; Bantekas et al. 2018) including how
they have been affected and interpreted by their courts (Waddington and
Lawson 2018). Some of the literature combines the two approaches with
an account of the CRPD and its significance, together with a focus on
particular provisions (Kanter 2015). Some authors have focused on a par-
ticular aspect of the journey of the CRPD at the international level, for
example, Sabatello and Schulze (2014) in their edited book are concerned
with the drafting of the CRPD from the perspectives of persons with dis-
abilities, while Flynn (2011) focuses on international responses to the
implementation of the CRPD, and Rioux et al. (2015) concentrate on
the issue of monitoring of the CRPD and its implications for social
change. This literature is significant in providing an account of the prog-
ress of the CRPD since its adoption. Within legal and anthropological
discourses more generally there has also been voluminous literature that
documents the debate on the universality of human rights and cultural
relativism, which suggests a tension between the universal respect for
human rights on the one hand and cultural diversity on the other hand
(Addo 2010), a debate once considered irreconcilable but now consid-
ered more theoretical (de Varennes 2006). Amongst these bodies of lit-
erature we have found little that explores different perspectives to the
complexity of cultures as central in a discussion of the CRPD (Scully
2012) or which analyses the interaction between the CRPD and the
6 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

domestic cultures in which it is ratified and implemented (Kakoullis

2015). These issues seem to have important implications in the practice
of human rights for the lives of persons with disabilities.
As social, and socio-legal, researchers, respectively, we believe that
focusing on the ‘socio-cultural’ as well as the ‘legal’ is an important addi-
tion to our knowledge of the CRPD. We have therefore sought to take an
interdisciplinary approach to this edited collection. In developing it we
did not provide our contributors with a guiding definition of ‘culture’,
but we indicated that we were interested in the interaction between the
CRPD and particular cultural contexts. We return to this in the
Conclusion to this book, where we will discuss how the concept of ‘cul-
ture’ was explored and analysed from different perspectives.
Further, while the previous literature has focused on specific provisions
of the CRPD (2006) and on different aspects of States Parties’ progress,
there has not been any literature to our knowledge that provides ‘snap-
shots’ of the journey of the CRPD through ratification, implementation
and monitoring. This book aims to examine some of these ‘snapshots’
from the stage of a State making a commitment to the CRPD by its rati-
fication, through implementation of the CRPD’s provisions, to monitor-
ing the implementation of the CRPD, to better understand how cultural
factors may interact with the CRPD’s journey into States Parties’ domes-
tic contexts.

5 Book Structure
This book is divided into four parts. It begins with reflections on culture,
disability and International Disability Human Rights Law from different
disciplinary perspectives (Part I). It is then organised as ‘snapshots’ of the
journey of the CRPD from the international level to the domestic, that
is, the process of ratification (Part II), the process of implementation of
certain of the CRPD’s provisions (Part III) and then the process of moni-
toring the CRPD’s implementation in States Parties’ cultural contexts
(Part IV). The book’s structure brings together cultural reflections of the
journey of the CRPD from the international level to the domestic. It
provides a series of in-depth accounts of how different States’ domestic
 1 Introduction 7

cultural contexts facilitated or led to particular challenges in the CRPD’s

interpretation and translation from an international treaty into practice.
In this book we have given freedom to the contributors to consider the
cultural issues that they thought were most important in the journey of
the CRPD rather than imposing a particular theoretical perspective. We
bring the themes that arise from these chapters together in the Conclusion
to the book.

5.1 Part I: Culture, Disability and the CRPD

This part provides an interdisciplinary approach to analysing the nature

of the concept of ‘culture’ and its implications for persons with disabili-
ties and their human rights. In developing this part, we sought to explore
the meanings given to ‘culture’ from various perspectives. This led to con-
sideration of the complexity of the concept, particularly how its mean-
ings have changed over time including within particular disciplines. It
also led to a consideration of different ‘cultures’ including those which
may be dominated or practised by particular disciplines, for example,
‘legal culture’, ‘disability culture/s’ and the importance of belonging to
more than one ‘culture’. In this part the authors have considered the
implications of their analyses of culture for the human rights of persons
with disabilities in relation to the CRPD.
In Chap. 2, Gerard Quinn advances the proposition that there is a
‘legal culture’, which consists of unstated values and institutional expec-
tations that underpin legal orders and constitute a ‘morality’ which
enables law to be possible. He focuses on the CRPD, in particular on
Article 12—Equal recognition before the law, to discuss the limited
power (to date) that it has had in dislodging fundamental assumptions in
legal cultures concerning legal capacity. Quinn uses the example of legal
capacity in Article 12 to show how changes to ideas of legal personhood
and mental capacity are difficult to achieve because of ‘legal fictions’ that
lie at the heart of legal systems’ legal cultures. Quinn puts forward some
suggestions to dislodge the historical ‘legal fictions’ embedded in
legal culture.
8 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

In Chap. 3, James Rice uses an anthropological perspective to explore

some of the cultural implications of the CRPD. He uses content analysis,
of the Reservations, Declarations and Objections made to the CRPD by
some States, to identify a number of tensions between the human rights
of persons with disabilities as set out in the CRPD and the broader cul-
tural values and priorities of particular States. Rice argues that any human
rights convention has to negotiate with local cultural norms, including
that of the CRPD.
In Chap. 4, Kelley Johnson considers the complexity of the concept of
‘culture’ and some of the ways in which its different meanings have
impacted on the human rights of persons with disabilities. In particular
she considers the diversity of cultures which may be included within any
nation State and how the interaction between these various cultures may
affect the human rights of persons with disabilities. The chapter considers
the development of disability culture(s), including Deaf Culture, the cul-
tural model of disability and the development of human rights based
cultures by persons with disabilities.
In Chap. 5, Huhana Hickey provides an account of the different ways
in which indigeneity has been defined historically and in contemporary
contexts. She uses her own experiences to provide a particular case study
of Maori perspectives to disability and the impact of colonialism on the
lives of persons with disabilities who are also members of indigenous
cultures. Hickey argues that the effects of colonialism on persons with
disabilities who are members of an indigenous culture continue to the
present through Government and community failure to both take
account of, and respect, the cultural values and beliefs of Maori people
and the continuing discrimination they face. As someone involved in the
drafting of the CRPD she explores the attempts made to give the rights
of indigenous people with disabilities stronger representation in its provi-
sions and provides a reflection on the consequences of the failure to do so.

5.2  art II: The Ratification Process: To Be or Not

P
to Be?

This part provides an interdisciplinary approach to exploring the ratifica-

tion process States undergo to become States Parties, that is, to be bound
 1 Introduction 9

under International Law, to the CRPD. The act of signature at the inter-
national level is the first stage in the journey of introducing human rights
norms from the international to the domestic level and it indicates a
State’s intention and promise to ratify the convention in the future
(VCLT 1969, Art. 18(a); Achiron 2007; Kallehauge 2009). Ratification
at the international level is the act through which a State establishes ‘its
consent to be bound’ by a convention at the International Law level
(VCLT 1969, Art. 11). Following ratification, the State becomes a party
to, and is required to observe the convention’s provisions ‘in good faith’
and implement them (VCLT 1969, Art. 26). However, before a State can
ratify a convention at the international level, it must first meet require-
ments and undergo processes at the domestic level. This ratification pro-
cess provides States with time to acquire the necessary approvals, where
necessary to enact domestic legislation (UN 2012; Aust 2011) and to
think about implementation. The chapters in this part reveal the com-
plexity of issues which may delay the ratification process for the CRPD
or lead to no ratification.
In Chap. 6, Arlene Kanter explores the paradoxical historical position
of the United States (US) which has failed to ratify most international
human rights treaties while at the same time being one of the architects
of the UN. The chapter explores the contemporary history of the failed
attempts to achieve ratification of the CRPD. Kanter provides an over-
view of why States ratify human rights treaties, followed by a short sum-
mary of US treaty ratification history. It then describes the failed CRPD
ratification process in the US Senate, including an analysis of the argu-
ments that were presented for and against ratification. The chapter dis-
cusses the reasons for the failure of the ratification in the US and what
this failure means to persons with disabilities in the US and to US foreign
relations.
In Chap. 7, Eilionóir Flynn focuses on the ratification process for the
CRPD in Ireland. In the chapter she considers the domestic cultural
context—in terms of the legal and political landscape, which shaped the
process of the CRPD’s ratification leading to a long time elapsing
between signature and ratification. The chapter shows some positive
effects from the length of time taken to consult and to examine domes-
tic laws, in terms of their consistency with the CRPD, but also the
10 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

increasing frustration at the delay to ratify. Flynn’s chapter reveals the

factors leading to Ireland finally ratifying the CRPD without complet-
ing the promised legislative reforms.
In Chap. 8, Emily Julia Kakoullis discusses the journey towards ratifi-
cation of the CRPD in Cyprus and considers how the Cypriot context
struggled to embrace the consultative and participatory culture that is
found in the Convention. The chapter shows that where States create
formal structures for consultation these may be inadequate to truly embed
the spirit of the Disability Movement’s mantra ‘Nothing About Us
Without Us!’, if the Governmental will is not there. Kakoullis’s chapter
also reveals that despite the challenges during Cyprus’s ratification process
there was some change regarding the practice of consultation with DPOs.
In Chap. 9, Dinesha Samararatne focuses on the impact of the CRPD
on Sri Lanka and reveals the importance of action taken by civil society
and persons with disabilities regarding the achievement of ratification of
the CRPD. The chapter explores both the ways in which the CRPD has
been received by the Government of Sri Lanka, and the incentive the
CRPD has offered DPOs and activists to take action to work for the
human rights of persons with disabilities. Samararatne’s chapter reveals
that even when ratification does not have immediate effects in terms of
legislative or policy measures regarding persons with disabilities, it can
lead to the mobilisation of advocacy on the ground.

5.3  art III: Making Disability Human Rights

P
Happen? Cultural Challenges to Implementing
the CRPD

This part provides an interdisciplinary approach to exploring the imple-

mentation of the CRPD. In this part all four authors chose to focus on
one CRPD provision: the first chapter discusses the implementation of
Article 12—Equal recognition before the law, the second and third chap-
ters discuss the implementation of Article 19—Living independently and
being included in the community, and the last chapter in this section
discusses Article 30—Participation in cultural life, recreation, leisure and
sport (CRPD 2006). The chapters in this section reveal the influence of
 1 Introduction 11

particular cultural contexts in implementing the CRPD’s provisions and

that some CRPD provisions tend to be particularly challenging for some
States Parties.
In Chap. 10, Huang Yi provides an account of empirical research
about the practice of guardianship and legal capacity to better under-
stand the challenges of implementing Article 12—Equal recognition
before the law, in China. She identifies and examines key cultural issues
that affected the implementation of Article 12 in China. Yi’s chapter
provides an account of both the systemic issues that affect the way in
which persons with disabilities are constituted within the ‘culture of the
law’ in China, and the moral and relationship issues to which they are
subject. She argues that in order to achieve the implementation of Article
12 in China not only a comprehensive understanding of Article 12 is
needed but also that Chinese social and cultural contexts need to be
taken into consideration.
In Chap. 11, Magdi Birtha discusses the implementation of Article
19—Living independently and being included in the community in the
context of the continuing segregation of many persons with disabilities in
large institutions, and the beginnings of deinstitutionalisation processes
in Hungary. The chapter reports on research which studied the first six
deinstitutionalisation projects designed to close large institutions in
Hungary, an initiative largely driven by the ratification of the
CRPD. Birtha takes a socio-historical-cultural approach to explore why
institutions are still present in Hungary, and reflects on the challenges
faced in closing six institutions. The chapter also discusses the role of the
European Union (EU) and the importance of the European Structural
and Investment Fund (ESIF) in providing incentives for implementing
Article 19 in Hungary. Birtha’s chapter reveals that the six deinstitution-
alisation projects were not underpinned by an understanding of Article 19.
In Chap. 12, Ciara Brennan and Rannveig Traustadóttir provide an
account of research carried out in three Nordic welfare states, Iceland,
Norway and Sweden, which explored the challenges of implementing
Article 19—Living independently and being included in the community.
These States have historically been regarded as ‘leaders’ in the area of
deinstitutionalisation and community living. The chapter explores how
the human rights approach of the CRPD ‘fits’ with the culture of the
12 E. J. Kakoullis and K. Johnson

Nordic welfare states. Brennan and Traustadóttir’s chapter identifies a

Nordic ‘welfare culture’ as the main obstacle to the implementation of
Article 19 in Iceland, Norway and Sweden.
In Chap. 13, Matthew Smith and Michael Ashley Stein explore
through a discussion of Article 30—Participation in cultural life, recre-
ation, leisure and sport, how theatre can be used particularly by persons
with intellectual disabilities to provide unique opportunities for (re)
negotiating their rights-holder status with society at large and to politi-
cally engender and support the social transformative change promised by
the CRPD. The chapter discusses how three theatre groups in Bangladesh,
the United States and Switzerland create spaces for dialogue that empower
theatre performers with intellectual disabilities to convey political mes-
sages to their audiences. Smith and Stein argue that Article 30 if fully
harnessed provides powerful opportunities for persons with intellectual
disabilities and that human rights practitioners would do well to follow
such theatre groups’ lead and direct more attention to the role of theatre
in the CRPD’s implementation.

5.4  art IV: Monitoring the CRPD: Resolving

P
Conflicting Interests?

This part provides an interdisciplinary approach to analysing the moni-

toring process of the CRPD’s implementation in which States Parties to
the CRPD, their national human rights institutions (NHRIs), civil soci-
ety and DPOs are engaged (CRPD 2006, Art. 33; 35). Each State Party
to the CRPD has an obligation under Article 33—National implementa-
tion and monitoring—to establish independent mechanism/s to monitor
the implementation of the CRPD (2006, Art. 33(2)) and civil society
and DPOs must fully participate in the monitoring process (Art. 33(3)).
Furthermore, States Parties have an obligation under Article 35—Reports
by States Parties, to submit State Reports to the CRPD Committee on
the measures they have taken to implement the CRPD. The chapters in
this part reveal the power plays at work in the monitoring process and the
important role DPOs play in the process.
 1 Introduction 13

In Chap. 14, Neil Crowther and Liz Sayce provide a detailed account
of the activities that have taken place in the United Kingdom (UK) since
the CRPD was ratified in 2009 with a particular focus on monitoring.
They describe how the ratification of the CRPD came at the end of a
period characterised by progress on disability rights and thus can be seen
as a high point. They then document the negative effects of the subse-
quent austerity measures on the lives of persons with disabilities. In
focusing on monitoring, Crowther and Sayce’s chapter discusses the UK
Government’s examination by the CRPD Committee following the sub-
mission of its State Report, the UK’s response and DPO’s reactions, and
shows that the CRPD Committee’s examination revealed interesting
dynamics between the different stakeholders.
In Chap. 15, Dina Afrianty focuses on the roles played by persons
with disabilities and their DPOs in ongoing monitoring at national and
provincial governmental levels in Indonesia. The chapter considers the
history of perspectives to disability within the cultural contexts of
Indonesia and how these impact on the CRPD. It describes how DPOs
have been collaborating with other human rights organisations in
Indonesia to support the implementation and monitoring of the
CRPD. Afrianty’s chapter illustrates how ratification of the CRPD has
provided DPOs with support to development campaigns designed to
change attitudes and new legislative frameworks in Indonesia in relation
to persons with disabilities.
In Chap. 16, Amita Dhanda provides an account of the preparation of
the Indian Government’s State Report to the CRPD Committee as part
of its monitoring obligations. The chapter discusses how the Centre for
Disability Studies, at the NALSAR (National Academy of Legal Studies
and Research) University of Law, was contracted to prepare India’s State
Report and discusses the political and ethical challenges involved in
working with the Government, civil society and DPOs in order to pro-
vide a comprehensive and balanced State Report. Dhanda’s chapter con-
siders the systemic factors that make the preparation of a useful and
independent State Report challenging to fulfil, and concludes with some
suggestions as to what can be done to make State Reporting a deliberative
process, rather than an inquisitorial exercise.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
a particularly happy season—save in its purely spiritual aspect. He
was full of anxiety about Beatrix. It was hard to live so near her, and
yet not dare to approach her. He had seen her in church every
Sunday morning, and had seen her looking ill and worn. He knew
that she was unhappy, and without a friend except Bella Scratchell.
What a dismal season Christmas must seem for her, poor child! How
cruel a mockery the joy-bells, and holly boughs, and outward
semblance of festivity!
His business to-day took him the direction of the bridge. He could
see the Water House on the other side of the river, its gray walls and
ivy-covered entrance tower looming darkly through a mist of rain.
Who was this approaching him along the muddy road, struggling
manfully against wind and rain? Cyril could see nothing but a pair of
pepper and salt legs under a gingham umbrella. The pepper and salt
legs brought the umbrella nearer him. It was an umbrella with a
slippery brass handle, and altogether an affliction to its possessor. A
sudden gust blew it on one side, and revealed the countenance of
Mr. Namby, pale and agitated.
‘How d’ye do, Namby?’ said Cyril, with no intention of saying more,
for the village surgeon was a talkative little man, and the busy curate
had no time to waste upon gossip. But Mr. Namby made a dead
stop.
‘Oh, Mr. Culverhouse, I have just come from the Water House.’
This was enough to bring Cyril to a standstill also. ‘There is awful
trouble there.’
‘Good heavens! What trouble? Is Miss Harefield ill?’
‘Poor child! She is in a dreadful state. Her father is dead.’
Cyril felt as if his heart had stopped beating. The rainy landscape
rocked before his eyes, the muddy road reeled beneath his feet.
‘Dead!’ he gasped.
‘Dead, suddenly. And I’m afraid by poison.’
‘What!’ cried Cyril. ‘You must be mad to say such a thing.’
 ‘It will be for the coroner to decide; there will be an inquest, of
course. But I have no doubt as to the cause of death. There are all
the symptoms of poisoning by opium.’
‘Good God! Was he in the habit of taking opium?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’
‘But he surely must have been. How else should he come by his
death? It must have been an over dose of opium.’
‘I never heard him complain of acute pain. He had an iron
constitution. He had no reason for taking opium that I can see.’
‘No reason! Look at the men who take it without reason, for the
pleasure of taking it. Look at Coleridge—De Quincey. Mr. Harefield
was just the kind of man to be an opium-eater. That would account
for his hermit-like life existence—his seclusion from all the world. He
had a world of his own—he had the opium-eater’s paradise.’
‘It is possible,’ said Mr. Namby, doubtfully. ‘But it is strange that I
should never have perceived the symptoms. There are unmistakable
indications in the appearance of the habitual opium-eater.’
‘How often did you see Mr. Harefield?’
‘Not very often, I confess.’
‘Not often enough for your observations of him to be worth much.
Dead! It is very awful. When did it happen?’
Mr. Namby proceeded to relate all he had heard at the Water
House; and for once in his life he found Cyril Culverhouse a patient
listener.
‘And Miss Harefield? How does she bear the shock?’
‘She is very quiet. She seems stupefied. The whole thing was so
sudden. She and Miss Scratchell dined with Mr. Harefield yesterday
evening. There was nothing to show that he was ill or agitated, or in
any way different from his usual self.’
‘Who is with Miss Harefield?’
 ‘Only Miss Scratchell and the servants. That excellent Miss Scales
is away in Devonshire, with an ailing relation; but she is expected
back daily.’
‘She ought to be summoned at once. I’ll call at the Vicarage and
ask Mrs. Dulcimer to go to the Water House.’
He turned back with Mr. Namby, and they walked together towards
the Vicarage, which was at the other end of the village street.
Mr. Namby turned into his own garden gate, and left Cyril to go on
alone to the Vicarage. Mr. Culverhouse had no exalted opinion of
Mrs. Dulcimer’s good sense, but he highly estimated her good
nature, and he could think of no one better whose friendship he
could appeal to on Beatrix Harefield’s behalf. Mrs. Dulcimer was
warmly attached to Beatrix. She would be overflowing with kindliness
and sympathy in this hour of trouble.
The Vicar was in his library, Mrs. Dulcimer in the dining-room with
Rebecca, allotting little heaps of warm clothing as Christmas gifts for
her poor parishioners. The dining-table was covered with neatly
made flannels and linsey petticoats. Mrs. Dulcimer and Rebecca
were folding and smoothing the little packages, and admiring their
own work, for Rebecca’s needle was as busy as her mistress’s in
this benevolent labour.
Rebecca withdrew respectfully, at the curate’s entrance, and Cyril
told Mrs. Dulcimer what had happened at the Water House. She
interrupted him continually with questions and exclamations; but he
got through his story somehow.
‘Poor dear child!’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer, when she had heard all;
‘coming into that fine estate; poor Mr. Harefield’s mother was a
Pynsent, you know, and all the Pynsent property goes with the
Harefield estate, and under such shocking circumstances. What a
pity she hasn’t a husband to protect her interests! I shouldn’t wonder
if the property were thrown into Chancery. If your cousin Kenrick had
only been wise now——’
‘What do you mean, Mrs. Dulcimer?’
 ‘He might have been owner of the finest property in the West
Riding. He might have been Beatrix’s husband by this time.’
‘I think the lady would have been entitled to a voice in the matter,’
said Cyril, ‘however wise my cousin Kenrick might have been.’
‘Oh, nonsense, Cyril! Such a young man as Kenrick might choose
for himself. And in poor Beatrix’s position she would naturally have
reciprocated his affection, if it had only been warmly offered.’
‘I cannot agree with you there. But if you will go and see the poor
girl——’
‘I’ll put on my bonnet this instant. Will you come with me, Cyril?’
‘I think not, I should be of no use.’
‘Well, a man certainly is apt to be in the way under such
circumstances. He never knows what to say, or what to leave
unsaid.’
‘And a woman never errs in leaving anything unsaid,’ remarked
the Vicar, entering through the curtained archway.
While Mrs. Dulcimer was putting on her bonnet, Cyril told the Vicar
what Mr. Namby had said about the cause of Christian Harefield’s
death, a detail which he had not communicated to Mrs. Dulcimer.
‘This makes it a painful business,’ said Cyril.
‘Very,’ answered the Vicar. ‘But I should not be surprised at Mr.
Harefield having deliberately taken the dose that killed him.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because to my mind he was a likely subject for suicide. Look at
the life he led. A man must sooner or later get tired of leading such a
life. Some day he must say to himself, “Wherefore, to what end do I
live?” And then, if he is half an infidel, if religion exercises no
restraining influence over his acts, he will make up his mind,
suddenly, perhaps, to end his existence. He has no love of his
fellow-men to anchor him to earth, no hope of anything bright or
good waiting for him in the coming years. He has a very faint belief—
possibly none at all—in a tribunal beyond this world where he will
have to answer for his deeds. It is very clear to me that for the last
ten years Christian Harefield’s life has been burdened by some
incurable sorrow. He may have grown weary of bearing the sorrow,
as people grow weary of bearing pain.’
‘You are probably right,’ said Cyril; ‘yet I should rather believe his
death accidental.’
Mrs. Dulcimer went to the Water House, knowing no more than the
fact of Mr. Harefield’s sudden death and his daughter’s desolation.
She went up to Beatrix’s room, expecting that the stricken girl would
throw herself into her arms and pour out all her woes upon that
friendly bosom. Mrs. Dulcimer’s frills and puffings and broad bonnet-
strings were in a flutter with the importance of her mission. She felt
as if she were the young heiress’s legal guardian.
‘My dearest girl,’ she cried, ‘how my heart bleeds for you!’
But Beatrix was in a curious mood. She seemed not to want other
people’s bleeding hearts. Indeed, her own heart was too deeply
wounded to receive comfort from such sympathetic bleeding.
Mrs. Dulcimer made all the customary speeches which are made
and provided for such occasions.
‘You must come to the Vicarage with me, my love,’ she said. ‘You
must not stop in this dreary house.’
But here Beatrix was firm. She would not leave the house in which
her dead father was lying.
‘We were not happy together while he was living,’ she said, ‘but I
will not desert him now he is dead.’
And then she relapsed into a state of seeming apathy, from which
Mrs. Dulcimer found it impossible to rouse her. Bella was there,
looking pale and scared, but ready to be useful if she were required.
By and by, failing in all attempts at consolation, Mrs. Dulcimer
went downstairs to talk this sad business over with the housekeeper
and Mr. Scratchell, who had appeared upon the scene as legal
representative of the deceased, and had already busied himself in a
semi-official manner in locking up papers and setting seals on desks
and cabinets in the library.
From the butler and housekeeper Mrs. Dulcimer heard details
which she had not heard from Cyril Culverhouse. She was told all
about the mysterious visitor of the previous night.
‘I believe he was one of Mrs. Harefield’s Italian friends,’ said the
butler. ‘There was something familiar about his face. I could as good
as swear I’ve seen him times and often before last night.’
‘As good as swearing won’t do,’ said Mr. Scratchell, with
professional severity. ‘Unless you are prepared to make a direct
statement upon oath you had better say nothing, about your
impressions and recollections before the coroner by and by.’
‘The coroner!’ cried Mrs. Dulcimer, with a look of horror. ‘What has
the coroner to do with it?’
‘Why, my dear madam, as Mr. Harefield’s death is both sudden
and mysterious, there will naturally be an inquest. The notices have
been sent round to the jury already, I believe, and the inquiry will be
held here this afternoon. To-morrow being Christmas Day, you see,
allows of no time being lost.’
‘Oh, this is too dreadful!’ exclaimed Mrs. Dulcimer; ‘that poor girl,
without a single relation, in a house of death, under such fearful
circumstances. I must get her away.’
‘I would strongly recommend you to do nothing of the kind. Miss
Harefield had better stop here. She will be wanted as a witness, for it
was she who discovered her father’s death. Her leaving the house
might create a scandal. She need not be alone. Bella can stay with
her.’
‘Poor girl,’ sighed Mrs. Dulcimer. ‘What a position!’
And then, the ruling passion still dominant in her mind, she thought
of Sir Kenrick Culverhouse, and what an opportunity this time of
trouble might afford for the ripening of friendship into love. It was a
time in which a young woman would naturally lean upon a masculine
mind for support and guidance, in which words of comfort would
sound stronger from masculine lips.
‘If Kenrick were only here to-day,’ thought Mrs. Dulcimer.
And then she remembered that Sir Kenrick had given her a half-
promise that he would come back to Yorkshire in time to eat his
Christmas dinner at the Vicarage.
 CHAPTER III.
before the coroner.
At the table where Christian Harefield had sat at meat on Sunday
evening, with his daughter and his daughter’s companion, sat the
coroner, in the gathering dusk of Monday afternoon, with his jurymen
in a row of heavy oaken chairs on either side of him—looking very
much as if they were sitting at a new Barmecide’s dinner—to inquire
into the cause or causes of Christian Harefield’s death.
The inquest had been called for three o’clock, but it was nearly
four, and the proceedings were but just beginning. There had been
the usual delays—one or two jurymen late—a good deal of
blundering in calling over the names—some small disputations about
nothing particular—a general muddling away of time. And now the
sky outside the heavy mullioned casements was deepening from
gray to dun, the red glow of the fire was shining redder upon the oak
panelling as the outside world darkened, the ticking of the clock on
the chimney-piece sounded obtrusively above the half-whispered
conversation, and the falling of a cinder on the hearth seemed as
startling as the report of a gun.
Mr. Scratchell sat at a corner of the table, note-book in hand, to
watch the proceedings as Miss Harefield’s legal adviser. He had
appointed himself to that post, and no one had disputed his right to
it. Beatrix had asked for no legal advice. She knew that her father
was dead, suddenly, mysteriously, awfully, but no instinct of her mind
impelled her to seek comfort, counsel, or succour from Mr.
Scratchell, or to throw herself into the sanctuary of English law.
The coroner was Dr. Judson, of Great Yafford, a medical man
much respected in his district, and a coroner who indulged in the
eccentricity of thinking for himself.
 The proceedings were opened by the examination of Mr. Namby,
who gave his opinion very decidedly upon the cause of death. He
had no doubt upon this point. The deceased gentleman had died
from an overdose of opium. He described those indications which led
him to believe this, and Dr. Judson, who knew Taylor’s Medical
Jurisprudence by heart, knew that the witness was right.
Peacock, the butler, the last person who had seen Mr. Harefield
alive, was the first witness examined, after the medical evidence had
been heard, and the jury had withdrawn to view the body.
He described the visit of the foreign gentleman, and his departure.
He was not able to recall the gentleman’s name, although he had
glanced at his card before he carried it to Mr. Harefield. The name
was a foreign one, and had slipped out of his memory directly after
he read it.
Coroner. How long was he with your master?
Peacock. It might be from an hour to an hour and a half. We were
just beginning our suppers in the servants’ hall when the bell rang,
and I opened the door to the strange gentleman. We hadn’t finished
many minutes when Mr. Harefield rung his bell for me to let the
strange gentleman out.
Coroner. Do you usually take an hour and a half at your supper?
Peacock. We might take as much on a Sunday night.
Coroner (with grim facetiousness, reflecting that this is how his
servants make such an impression on the butcher’s bill). Oh, I see,
on Sunday night you eat a little extra. The better the day the better
the deed. Then, as you are in the habit of sitting an hour and a half
at your supper, you conclude that the stranger was with Mr. Harefield
as long as that.
Peacock. I should say about that time.
Coroner. How often did you see Mr. Harefield after the stranger
left?
Peacock. I went into the room twice—once with some fresh logs,
once with coals.
 Coroner. Did you observe anything peculiar in your master’s
manner?
Peacock. No, sir. When I went in the first time he was sitting
before the fire, a little moody-like, staring straight before him; but he
was moody in his ways most times. When I went in with the coals, he
was sitting there still—like a statue. I asked him if there was anything
more wanted, and he said, ‘No, Peacock, nothing more.’ That was
his general reply. I couldn’t see any difference in his voice or
manner.
Coroner. Were you with Miss Harefield this morning when she
discovered her father’s death?
Peacock. I was just outside the door when she went in and found
him lying dead upon the sofa.
Coroner. In which room was he found?
Peacock. In Mrs. Harefield’s sitting-room. It hadn’t entered into my
head—or into the housekeeper’s head—to look for him in that room,
for the room was never used. Mr. Harefield kept the key, and it was
kept locked at all times, like a tomb.
Coroner. Who suggested looking into that room?
Peacock. Miss Harefield. ‘Let us go into every room in the house,’
she said, ‘my mother’s rooms first of all.’
Coroner. Did she give any reason for making that suggestion?
Peacock. Yes—she named her reason. The strange gentleman
was an old friend of her mother’s, Miss Harefield thought, and that
might have set her father thinking of old times, and carried his
thoughts back to his wife’s rooms. That is what I understood her to
mean.
Coroner. Then Miss Harefield led the way to the room in which her
father was found?
Peacock. She did.
Coroner. And he was quite dead when you found him?
 Peacock. Quite dead. When Mr. Namby saw my master he said he
must have been dead some hours. He was stone cold—icy cold. Mr.
Namby said icy coldness of the body was one of the signs of
poisoning by opium.
Coroner. You need not tell us what Mr. Namby said. Mr. Namby
has told us his opinion. Have you any knowledge of your master
taking opium, for any purpose whatever?
Peacock. I have never known him to do such a thing.
Coroner. What! not an occasional dose to deaden pain?
Peacock. I have never heard him complain of pain.
Coroner. But have you never had cause to suspect him of taking
opium? He was a man of reserved and lonely habits. Have you
never seen him in a stupefied, dreamy state, such as you may have
heard of or read of as peculiar to opium eaters?
Peacock. Never.
Coroner. Have you ever seen any bottle containing opium, or any
bottle labelled opium, or laudanum, in his rooms?
Peacock. Never.
Coroner. Have you ever seen anything in your late master’s
manner indicating a disturbed state of mind—the sort of thing which
is usually called not being quite right in one’s mind?
Peacock. No, sir. My late master was not a cheerful man. He was
a gentleman who preferred to live alone. He had always lived shut
up in his own rooms since his wife’s death. I believe he took her
death very much to heart. He has never talked about his troubles to
me, or to any one in the house, but I believe that was his trouble.
The next witness was Isabella Scratchell. She had been present at
the discovery of Mr. Harefield’s death. She had dined with him on the
previous evening, and would naturally be an independent witness,
and a more unbiassed judge of his demeanour and mental condition
than either his old servants or his daughter.
 Bella gave her evidence with a graceful timidity and a gentle
firmness which charmed her hearers. She felt that it was her first
public appearance, and that the eyes of Little Yafford—or possibly of
a much wider world than Little Yafford—were upon her. She stood at
the end of the long table, with her clear blue eyes fixed respectfully
upon the coroner, her little white hands clasped, her head slightly
bent. Even her father’s cold eye perceived that there was grace and
prettiness in this familiar face and figure.
‘A girl like that ought to get a husband able to support her,’ thought
Mr. Scratchell, who regarded marriage as an institution devised for
taking daughters off a father’s hands, and throwing the onus of
maintaining them upon an obliging stranger.
Coroner. You dined with Mr. Harefield yesterday evening, I
believe?
Bella. Yes.
Coroner. What impression did his manner make upon you?
Bella. I felt very sorry for Beatrix—for Miss Harefield.
Coroner. Why?
Bella. It was so sad to see a father and daughter so unloving. Or I
should say sad to see a daughter so little loved.
Coroner. Then you conclude the want of affection was on Mr.
Harefield’s side?
Bella (after a moment of hesitation). Yes.
Coroner. Do you mean that Mr. Harefield was absolutely harsh in
his treatment of his daughter?
Bella. Both harsh and cold. I should have felt it painfully had I been
Miss Harefield. Indeed, I know she did feel it.
Coroner. She has told you so?
Bella. Indirectly. She has told me of unhappiness between her and
her father.
Coroner. What kind of unhappiness?
 Bella. I had rather not enter into that. I have no right to betray Miss
Harefield’s confidence.
Coroner. You are bound to answer any questions bearing upon the
subject of this inquiry. I want particularly to know the state of feeling
between Mr. Harefield and his daughter. Now what was the
unhappiness of which you have spoken?
Bella (with her eyes wandering piteously round the stolid faces of
the jury, and at last seeking counsel in the looks of her father). Am I
really obliged to answer this question?
Scratchell. Yes, yes, girl, you’d better answer.
Bella. The unhappiness was about a gentleman to whom Miss
Harefield is deeply attached. Mr. Harefield forbade her to see this
gentleman, or to hold any communication with him.
Coroner. And that had been the cause of ill-feeling between the
father and daughter?
Bella. I have never said ill-feeling. I only say that Mr. Harefield’s
manner to his daughter was morose and unkind.
Coroner. Did you perceive anything approaching to eccentricity or
mental disturbance in his manner last evening?
Bella. Nothing.
Coroner. Should you consider him a man likely to commit suicide?
Bella. I should say not. He was always reserved and gloomy.
Coroner. But not more so yesterday evening than usual?
Bella. No more than usual.
Coroner. How did Miss Harefield seem impressed by the discovery
of her father’s death?
Bella. She seemed stunned.
Coroner. She said very little, I conclude?
Bella. She said nothing. The awfulness of the discovery seemed to
turn her to stone.
 The next and last witness was one in whom even those stolid
jurymen felt a keen interest. The next witness was Beatrix Harefield,
who came into the room slowly, leaning upon Mrs. Dulcimer, a living
image of horror and amazement.
Some one, seeing how feebly she moved from the door to the
table, brought her a chair; or, in the richer phraseology of the
reporters, she was ‘accommodated with a seat.’ She sat, looking
straight at the distant coroner, seen dimly by the light of tall wax
candles in old silver candelabra, at the end of an avenue of jurymen.
Beatrix was questioned as to the finding of her father’s body. Her
replies were at first hardly audible, but voice and manner grew firmer
as she went on.
Coroner. What induced you to suggest that your mother’s sitting-
room should be the first place to be searched?
Beatrix. Because I fancied my father’s thoughts would dwell upon
my mother last night.
Coroner. Why?
Beatrix. The gentleman who came here—after an absence of
many years—was a countryman and friend of my mother’s. That
would carry my father’s thoughts back.
Coroner. Can you tell me the name of this gentleman? His
evidence would be important as to the state of your father’s mind
yesterday evening.
Beatrix. I have heard him called Antonio.
Coroner. That was his Christian name, no doubt. Have you never
heard his surname?
Beatrix. Never, to my knowledge. I was a child when he used to
visit here. I have heard my father and mother both speak of him as
Antonio.
Coroner. Was your father in the habit of going into that locked up
room of your mother’s?
Beatrix. I know he went there sometimes.
 Coroner. How do you know that?
Beatrix. I found the key left in the door once. No one could have
left it there but my father.
Coroner. The room was kept locked, I understand. The members
of the household were not allowed to go in.
Beatrix. It was kept locked from every one for ten years.
Coroner. Have you never been in the room during that time?
Beatrix. Once only. The day I found the key in the door. I went in
and looked at my mother’s room.
Coroner. Have you any reason to suppose that your father was in
the habit of taking opium?
Beatrix. I have no reason to suppose so. We lived very much
apart, but from what I saw of his mode of life, I do not think my father
ever took opium.
Coroner. You have never heard him complain of pain of any kind—
rheumatism or neuralgia, for instance—which might have induced
him to seek relief from opiates?
Beatrix. Never.
Coroner. Do you know whether there was any laudanum in the
house at the time of your father’s death?
Beatrix (with evident agitation, and after a noticeable pause). No,
there was no laudanum in the house at the time of my father’s death.
Coroner. Are you sure of that?
Beatrix. Quite sure. I have suffered from sleeplessness for many
weeks. Last week I bought a little laudanum, and have been taking it
nightly in small doses. I took rather a larger dose than usual last
night and emptied the bottle.
The jury, who had been getting a little absent-minded during what
they considered a somewhat wire-drawn interrogation, became
suddenly on the alert. Four and twenty eyes were fixed inquisitively
upon the pale face of the witness. A gentleman who stood in the
shadow of the doorway watching the proceedings grew a shade
paler than he had been before.
Coroner. Did any one know of your taking this laudanum?
Beatrix. No one.
Coroner. Was it recommended by your medical adviser?
Beatrix. No. I asked Mr. Namby to give me opiates, but he refused.
Coroner. And, unknown to every one, you bought laudanum, and
took it in nightly doses?
Beatrix. Yes. The sleepless nights were so miserable. I think I
should have gone mad if they had continued much longer.
Coroner. Was there any cause for these sleepless nights?
Beatrix (faltering, and with a distressed look). I had been unhappy
lately.
Coroner. There was a love affair, was there not, which your father
disapproved?
Beatrix. Yes.
Coroner. Was there ill-feeling between you and your father about
this love affair?
Beatrix. Not exactly ill-feeling. I thought that my father acted
unkindly.
Coroner. There was no quarrel between you?
Beatrix. No. I submitted to my father’s will, but he knew that when I
came of age I should fulfil the engagement of which he disapproved.
Coroner. In other words, you defied him?
Beatrix. No. I only told him that I should be faithful to the man I
loved.
Coroner. No matter how objectionable that person might be to your
father?
 Beatrix. He had no cause to object. He ought to have been proud
that I had won the love of so good a man.
Coroner. Perhaps a young lady is not always the best judge upon
that point. Now, will you tell me where you got this laudanum?
Beatrix. At Great Yafford.
Coroner. At which chemist’s?
Beatrix. I got it from several chemists. The chemist I first went to
would give me only a very small quantity. I went on to another
chemist and got a little more.
Coroner. That was very ingenious. How many chemists did you go
to in this manner?
Beatrix. I believe I went to five or six shops.
Coroner. Getting a little laudanum at each. How much did you get
altogether?
Beatrix. When I emptied all the bottles into one there was a small
bottle full.
Coroner. I should like to see the bottle. Let it be sent for.
Beatrix. It is in the little Indian cabinet on the writing-table in my
bedroom.
The bottle was fetched at the coroner’s desire. It was an ounce
bottle, quite empty, labelled in the usual manner.
Coroner. Was this bottle never out of your hands after you brought
it home?
Beatrix. Never. Till last night I kept it locked in my dressing-case.
Coroner. You are sure of that?
Beatrix. I am quite sure.
This ended Beatrix Harefield’s examination. After this the coroner
adjourned the inquiry for a week, with a view to obtaining further
evidence. He made a strong point of the desirability of obtaining the
evidence of the strange visitor who had been closeted with Mr.
Harefield for an hour and a half on the night before his death.
 CHAPTER IV.
christmas eve.
Beatrix went back to her room, accompanied by Mrs. Dulcimer and
Bella Scratchell. In going through the dimly-lighted hall she passed a
group of figures standing close together near the foot of the
staircase; the Vicar, Mr. Namby, and one other, a taller figure than
either of the two, a man standing with half-averted face, listening to
some remark of Mr. Dulcimer’s. Towards this one, whose face was
hidden, Beatrix looked intently, but there was no time for more than
that one earnest look, for Mrs. Dulcimer’s supporting arm was round
her, and Bella was on the other side. Between these sympathisers,
she was led up the shallow old stairs to the familiar corridor which
had to-night so awful and even unknown an air. Death lay yonder in
the bedchamber where the coroner and his jury had gone in silently
half an hour ago, to look upon the marble form that had so lately
been master and owner of all things at the Water House. In the place
of that stern ruler there was now only the lifeless clay. A dreadful
blankness and emptiness had descended upon the house, so quiet,
so changeless heretofore, but now pervaded with the one idea of
death.
Beatrix shivered as she passed the door of the room where her
dead father was lying. Mrs. Dulcimer perceived that shuddering
recoil, and again suggested that her sweet Beatrix should come to
the Vicarage. But again Beatrix was firm.
‘Do you think I am frightened at the thought of death?’ she asked
bitterly. ‘My father’s life was a living death—to me. He is no further
removed from me now than he was yesterday.’
‘My dear child, if I could stay with you here, I would not so much
mind,’ said Mrs. Dulcimer, ‘but I shall be obliged to go back to the
Vicarage almost immediately. There is Clement’s tea. He would not
think of sitting down to tea without me if he were ever so hungry. And
then later in the evening there will be the carol singers. We always
give them cake and hot elder wine. So you see, my love, I shall be
obliged to go.’
Beatrix gave a weary sigh.
‘Indeed, dear Mrs. Dulcimer, I shall be better alone,’ she said. ‘I
am grateful for your kindness, but I would rather be alone. I do not
want even Bella, and I am sure it is cruel to keep her in this
melancholy house. Do go home, Bella, or go to the Vicarage with
Mrs. Dulcimer and hear the carols.’
‘Beatrix, how can you suppose that I would leave you?’ exclaimed
Bella, and again Beatrix sighed wearily.
It would have been an infinite relief to her to be quite alone. She
had recognised Cyril in that little group in the hall, and he had let her
pass, without one word of consolation, without one pitying look. He
must have known that she was passing, she told herself, and he had
kept his face averted; he had stood coldly by and made no sign of
sympathy or kindly feeling.
Mrs. Dulcimer tied her bonnet strings, kissed Beatrix repeatedly,
promised to come and see her directly after morning service next
day, and then hurried off to superintend the Vicar’s evening meal.
‘I shouldn’t be surprised if Kenrick was to pop in upon us to-night,’
she said, as she was going away. ‘He promised to spend Christmas
with us.’
Beatrix gave a little start at Kenrick’s name. He was so near Cyril
in her mind, and just now she was deeply moved by Cyril’s strange
coldness.
Mrs. Dulcimer saw her startled look, and had an inward movement
of triumph. Here was one of her good-natured schemes assuredly
about to prosper. Kenrick had evidently made an impression upon
Beatrix; and now death had made Beatrix mistress of a splendid
fortune.
‘I only hope that foolish boy will remember his engagement to eat
his Christmas dinner with us,’ thought the Vicar’s wife, as she