This episode of Intercross the Podcast is the second in our new joint series with Humanitarian Law & Policy. Humanitarian Law & Policy is the ICRC blog based in Geneva that provides timely analysis and debate on international humanitarian law (IHL) issues and the policies that shape humanitarian action. With this series we hope to have monthly conversations on trends, issues, future challenges and solutions as they pertain to IHL or humanitarian action. In this discussion, we speak with Jelena Pejic, Senior Legal Adviser for ICRC in Geneva. She discusses about international humanitarian law and human rights law and some of the debates and tensions around the two bodies of law during armed conflict. We focus on one debate in particular – detention in non-international armed conflicts. This conversation is in response to our podcast with Jonathan Horowitz last month. Hosted by Sasha Radin.

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Intercross is happy to highlight a Music in Exile musician on the last Tuesday of every month as part of the podcast. This month, the spotlight is on Ali, a Syrian musician who fled to the Kurdistan region of Iraq. The only possession Ali brought with him was his oud. He plays it every day. Even at 1 o’clock in the morning. The neighbors know he is gone when they don’t hear his music. “If I don’t play every day, I don’t feel restful,” he says. Photos courtesy Music in Exile.

Ali is a Syrian musician now living in Iraq. To learn more about his story, go to musicinexile.org

 

Ali is a Syrian musician now living in Iraq. To learn more about his story, go to musicinexile.org

Amuda Lyrics (translated)

Your eyes, my beloved, are forests.

At time of dawn, before the prayers.

Your eyes, my beloved, are forests.

At time of dawn, before the prayers.

Or they are two windows,

From which the moon is receding.

Or they are two windows,

From which the moon is receding.

Your eyes, my beloved, have become Lalish

To that height of yours, I’ve become a worshiper,

Your eyes, my beloved, have become Lalish

To that height of yours, I’ve become a worshiper,

Don’t tease me, love turned to tears,

As if, for you beloved, I am enslaved.

Don’t tease me, love turned to tears,

Hence, for you beloved, I am enslaved.

When your eyes, my beloved, start laughing

Fruit trees start to come to life.

When your eyes, my beloved, start laughing

Fruit trees start to come to life.

 The fire of your eyes illuminating

As if for you, my beloved, I remain enslaved.