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Our not-so-Western-focused Lecturer of the Year - Dr. Mando Rachovitsa

Maybe you voted for her in the lecturer of the year poll because you were fascinated by her bringing cyberspace into international law classes, by her non-average teaching persona, or maybe you didn’t even know her at the time but were persuaded to vote for her by colleagues – either way, her journey is one you’ll want to know more about.

 

Interview by: Jessica Appelmann

 

 

Where are you from and what made you decide to go into law?

I’ll probably disappoint you a little bit. I’m from Greece. I didn’t really have a dream to become a lawyer; I think I went into law because it was one of the most difficult things to do when you were studying in high school, at least at my organization. I think I was remotely interested, mostly into Criminology, and I knew there were some courses for Criminology at that law school, so I was like “Ok, let’s give it a go.”

 

Where did you study?

I completed my LL.B. in Komotini, Greece – there are basically three law schools: One is in Athens, one is in Thessaloniki, and one in Komotini.  My LL.M. was International Law at the School of Law of Thessaloniki. And for my Ph.D., later on, I went to England - the University of Nottingham, for another three years.
After finishing my LL.B., I had to decide whether I would qualify as a lawyer to practice. While I was finishing my LL.B. I was already quite passionate about international law, and I wanted to go straight into an LL.M. My parents didn’t agree with that; I recall my father’s reaction: “What are you talking about; what is this international law?!” They didn’t approve at all, thought I should calm down, qualify as a lawyer (1.5-year internship + exams), and see whether I would like it and could do it, and then I could do the LL.M. later on if I still wanted to.  Which I did.
To continue the interesting story, most of my friends and family were against me doing a Ph.D. in international law. My parents said “Ok, so you have the LL.M. now; you’re happy, so you can practice now. You can have a career.” I was practicing most areas of law, but mostly criminal law – it gives you a thrill that you cannot get anywhere else. I was good, I liked it, I could have a career, and my friends and family were like “You can have a career; you can have money; are you crazy – what is this Ph.D. in international law – what are you going to do later on?” On top of that, I had many people whom I had asked for advice – colleagues, professors – who insisted that it would be impossible for me to get accepted at a very good UK university with having both my LL.B. and my LL.M. from Greek universities.  It was even difficult to get a scholarship, and I couldn’t go without one because I didn’t have the money. To make the long story short, I went despite my parents’ advice (It took them ten years to realize that it was a good choice!), and I managed to get into a very good university – the University of Nottingham is one of the best to study international law. I was very lucky - it’s also a matter of circumstances and luck – to get a scholarship.
Brief conclusions from this story: You need to take into account everyone’s opinion and what is good for you, but in the end, you need to decide, and not everybody will be happy with your decisions. If you really want something, you need to insist, regardless of whether you will fail or succeed; it’s about trying. Even if you have very qualified professors telling you it’s impossible; don’t give up, try. For my application, to give you an indication, I think I applied for a Ph.D. at 15 different universities, which is a lot! I was applying anywhere that I thought was a good choice and where I could get a scholarship. I got many no’s back until I got two yes’s back.

 

Why did you go into academia?

I don’t know; what do you think? What’s the perspective from outside of staff; why do you think people go into academia?

 

You must be really into your research, I suppose.

 

Yeah, when you do a Ph.D. there’s a presumption that you’re really into research, that specific area, and into writing. I did enjoy what I was doing a lot, but I while I was finishing, I wasn’t quite convinced; I just knew academia was an option. I applied for many things; one of them was a position, almost unpaid – they would cover your expenses – and it was funded by a project by the bar association in London, to go to Nigeria to do legal work in the field/on the ground regarding witchcraft. In Nigeria, they have a serious problem with witchcraft. If you have any physical or mental illness or any behavior that is not part of the norm, they name you a witch very easily. They may expel you from the community or even go as far as burning your life.

 

But does providing legal aid help those people at all?

Obviously, it’s a socio-legal issue, but what you could do is – there are lawyers working on these specific cases, and my job would be to give them a perspective from international human rights law and how they can use international human rights law in their claims before the court. Now the extent to which I would be involved hands-on, we’ll never know; I would have probably gotten involved somehow even in non-legal ways. I went to the interview and got the job – to my great surprise. Unfortunately, I never made it there because they were expecting money from a grant to fund my position but did not receive it, so I was not able to go. If I had made it there, I would have probably had a completely different life path.

Then I started applying for some academic positions, and a colleague/friend told me “There is a position advertised, and they’re looking for an international lawyer with a good background in human rights law in Qatar.” And I started laughing and said, “I’m not going to Qatar; are you crazy?” And she kind of insisted and said, “Why not; you have nothing to lose; just send them your CV”, and so I sent in my CV. They offered me the job, and I took it, and that’s how I ended up in academia.

 

What is the most important thing you learned in Qatar?

Well, first things first, in those four years in Qatar, I learned more things than I offered.  The most important thing… that’s a difficult one.

Ok, one of the really important things, and it might seem obvious in theory, is that I learned to listen. Trying to understand people and their point of view, and that’s a really tough thing to do. My students taught me that, how to listen and how to look at things in a completely different way. Even if I don’t understand, to be open to it,

and that’s really, really difficult.

A second thing, and I think that’s the most important thing – it was like a slap:

I went to Qatar with an idealistic perception that I was coming to teach,

to “show you how things should be done”, a very colonialist approach,

even if well-intended, very condescending. The following thing happened –

it was quite early, during the first month of my stay in Doha –

a friend of a friend was there and said, “let’s go out, show you around the city”.

We went to the market, and there were these very old people, in Arabic we call

them hamal, people who carry your trolleys while you shop, mostly of rich Qatari people.

These guys were great to take a photo of; I really liked them. On the way out from the

market, there were three of them, and they didn’t speak English, and I didn’t speak Arabic.

With my gestures, I asked them if it’s ok and pointed at my camera. Two of the guys

nodded. And the third guy approached me and gestured that he wanted money for it.

I thought this was ridiculous and was like “No, I won’t give you money”, and he

understood, and he came closer, and with some very poor English he managed to convey

the following:  He looked me in the eye, x-rayed me, so he knew who I was, and he said:

“Doctora,” that’s what they call it in Arabic when you have  a Ph.D., “I am 70 years of age,

and until my life ends, I will never make the money that you make in Doha in one year.

And you won’t give me money for one photo?!” And that was the slap. Because I felt really, really ashamed. And I realized the striking inequalities on a global basis; you realize how small you are, how condescending you can be, and how a grandpa, who probably never finished primary school, teaches you a life lesson.

 

 

Have you encountered issues that made you doubtful about international law in general or about your research while working?

Yes, of course. If you care, it’s impossible, and this is my view, not to wake up some days of the year and to think that international law is a complete failure. If you take a look at Syria, if you take a look right now at Yemen, the system didn’t work. There are failures, we need to admit them. It’s a good thing to admit a system has failures - legally speaking, politically speaking, and the intersection. Now, is this a reason to give up on the whole system, to say we don’t need international law, international law is useless? No, of course not. We need to have some good criticism on international law; we need to admit failures and problems and try to find creative ways to address and mitigate them somehow.

What’s something more specific that you think needs to be resolved in international law?

What I’m about to say is probably a banalité, but it’s true. International law is very Eurocentric and very Western-centric. Now, we use the term “Westerner” or Western-centric easily. We need to ask ourselves what this means today. I used to play this game in Doha, because many times, the students had a very critical outlook and would say “You have a Western outlook; there is a Western bias, and the whole system of international law is Western-based, and you’re not taking into account our own views, those of the Middle East and the rest of the world.”, so I was like “Ok, hold on, what do you mean by West?” and gave them an example that would paralyze them: Have you ever been to Dubai?

 

No.

 

It’s a very Western country. I asked them: If you are in Dubai, do you feel more Western in Dubai or in Athens, Greece? Because, personally, I feel more Western when I am in Dubai.” And I can give many other examples. So, my students thought about it and realized something was a bit off. Sometimes we use terms that used to have a certain meaning, but their meaning and relation to reality is a different one nowadays – there is a disconnect there.  So first we need to redefine what we mean by “West”. It’s not just a region of the planet; it’s something much broader. That said, international law is still very Western-centric, which is something we need to change. We need more international lawyers, and good international lawyers, coming from other parts of the world, and we don’t have that yet. Good international lawyers in other parts of the world have usually been educated in the West and adopt this outlook, and that’s the biggest irony of it all! That’s a big issue, and, secondly, we, of course, also need to start thinking differently, which is also really difficult.

 

Why did you choose Groningen…or how did you end up here?

*laughs* Those are two completely different questions, how you phrased them. When you say “end up”, it’s not really a choice.

 

Well, I don’t know if it was a choice.

 

I was in my third year in Doha, Qatar, and at some point, I realized that what I was doing was the end of the circle. For personal and for professional reasons I needed to leave. So, I applied for some things in the UK; I had two interviews and they didn’t go well – because we also need to mention the failures, it’s not all about successes – not everyone says yes to you and it’s wonderful; there are many failures, they’re part of the process, part of the game. I want to mention this: You shouldn’t be afraid of failure; failure is good. It will happen inevitably at some point to everybody, so the sooner it happens, the better. All of us learn by failures, and we shouldn’t be afraid of failing because failing means we’re trying something – we’re taking risks. Don’t be afraid of failing, be afraid of not trying! This is really important. Students today are really stressed out; they’re really afraid of failure. Failure is fine! You apply for things, you don’t care about the thousand no’s; you care about the two or the one yes’. Anyway, it didn’t go too well, among other things I also had a terrible flu those days – *laughs* excuses.  And at some point, I saw a job advertisement for the University of Groningen and thought 'ooh, that’s interesting' – Netherlands, Groningen. I knew the university and that they had a very good academic reputation, especially in the department of international law, so I applied. I had an interview via Skype – apparently, it went well, and they offered me a job. I was all over the moon, to be honest. I was really happy to return to Europe and come to the Netherlands, and I was really, really happy to come to Groningen and to join the department of international law here. So far, so good. I’ve been here for a bit less than 1.5 years. So it was a choice. I’m really happy.

 

I think you might have already answered this, but do you have any advice for current students or future lawyers? I guess the big one is what you said about failures?

Yes. One would be: Fail. Failure is good; learn from failure. It will happen, inevitably.
Second: Travel. Take a backpack and just go, take off. You know, not just for the purposes of having fun, just traveling. Try to understand the world. There is no way we can understand the world if we read books. No way. If we’re not there to experience and to grasp things…. Travel – to weird, bizarre places. Just travel. …Hm, do I have any other piece of advice? Obviously, study. *laughs* I was having a conversation yesterday with one of the guys who makes coffee at Black&Bloom, and he gave a good piece of advice, and it took me some time to realize: Don’t take yourself too seriously. That’s what I’m trying to do myself – don’t take yourself so seriously but take worthwhile things and worthwhile issues seriously. Those are two completely different things.

 

*End of Interview*

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