Donald Trump is committing genocide for Israel after publicly admitting to being bought and owned by the Adelsons.
All the worst shit happens right out in the open. You don’t need to come up with any elaborate conspiracy theories to see it. It’s right there, completely unhidden.
It’s not hidden, it’s just spun. Disguised by the propaganda of the mass media which frame this holocaust as a war of defence in response to a terrorist attack while constantly diverting our attention to other far less significant issues.
It says so much about the power of the imperial propaganda machine that Trump could openly admit to having been fully controlled by Adelson cash on the campaign trail, get elected, and then facilitate a blatant extermination campaign in Gaza while aggressively stomping out free speech that is critical of Israel throughout the United States — and somehow not have this be the main thing that everyone talks about all the time. It is only because our minds are being forcefully manipulated by the powerful at mass scale that this has been the case.
All the worst evils . . . Video/Audio: Caitlin Johnstone
The narrative spin is greatly aided by the fact that Trump isn’t doing much different from the previous president here. A public which has been indoctrinated from childhood into seeing everything in Democrat-vs-Republican binaries is conditioned to focus far more on the differences between the two parties than the similarities.
But you can learn a whole lot more about real power and what’s actually going on in the world by paying less attention to how US presidents differ from each other, and more attention to the ways in which they are the same.
Take note of which Trump comments provoke controversy, and which don’t. Trump said this week that he “gave” the Golan Heights to Sheldon and Miriam Adelson, his top funders, who came to the White House “almost more than anybody.” Not a peep about this brazen admission of graft pic.twitter.com/MaJLFnH7oi
The mass-scale psychological manipulation is so pervasive and ubiquitous that only a small minority are reacting to history’s first live-streamed genocide with an appropriate level of horror. If Americans could see what their government is doing in their name with fresh eyes and uncallused hearts, the nation’s capitol would be burnt to the ground within days.
But because their vision is clouded by propaganda indoctrination they can’t see it, so they overlook what’s right in front of them while awaiting a gigantic Epstein bombshell or UFO disclosure or some other Big Reveal that never comes.
Consider the possibility that the Big Reveal has already happened. That it’s been right here staring you in the face this entire time, but you haven’t noticed its significance because it has been constantly normalised for you throughout your life since you were small. That the truth behind all your most sparkly conspiracy theories could be published online tomorrow, and it still wouldn’t tell you as much about what your rulers are doing and how evil they are as what’s already happening in plain sight.
This is the dystopia we were warned about. It’s not some ominous threat looming on the horizon. It’s here. We are being psychologically manipulated at mass scale into consenting to the most nightmarish atrocities imaginable.
Children’s bodies are being shredded to bits right in front of us. And when you turn on the TV you see famous people laughing and making jokes with fake plastic grins, babbling about vapid nonsense. This is the dystopia. It isn’t on its way. It’s here.
They’re ripping kids in half right in front of us and telling us we need to be mad at Kneecap and Ms Rachel.
We don’t need a Big Reveal. If the Big Reveal happened next week, the public would be indoctrinated into overlooking and dismissing it by the imperial spin machine by the weekend. We don’t need new information, we need people to truly see the information that’s already here. To see it with eyes that are free from the cataracts of propaganda conditioning, with hearts that are free from the calluses of desensitisation.
Waking the public up is less about whistleblowers, FOIA requests and investigative journalism at this point than it is about finding creative and artistic ways to get people noticing the information that’s already public.
And the good news is that we can all help do this. We can all help our fellow members of the public to see what’s really happening with fresh eyes. Using our creativity, our humour, our insight and our compassion, we can find new ways every day to open a new pair of eyelids to the truth of our present circumstances.
Our rulers do not have creativity. They do not have humour, insight or compassion. These are not tools that they have in their toolbox, and they have no weapons to counter them.
All they have is manipulation, and manipulation only works if you don’t know it’s happening to you. Our task is to keep finding new and creative ways to help more people see and understand the ways in which they have been manipulated.
Memory and politics are inherently intertwined and can never be fully separated in post-atrocity and post-genocidal contexts. They are also dynamic and ever-changing. The interplay between memory and politics is, therefore, prone to manipulation, exaggeration or misuse by clever actors to meet a range of political ends.
This applies too to Rwanda’s commemoration period (Kwibuka). It runs from April to July each year, dedicated to remembering the 1994 genocide against the Tutsi.
Remembrance poses a challenging paradox. Often, when new conflicts arise, memorialisation falls into two distinct and competing categories. There is politically motivated commemoration, where memory is used as cover to advance a political agenda. Then, there are memory practices that transcend politics. These two types of memory coexist at the same time and place.
Drawing from more than a decade of original research on genocide memory in Rwanda, I explore commemoration practices that transcend politics, and identify why Kwibuka is still needed and how individuals keep Kwibuka relevant in today’s challenging socio-political climate.
Three ways genocide remembrance transcends politics
Firstly, Kwibuka can be a freeing practice for survivors.
For many Rwandans, genocide remembrance practices like Kwibuka still hold meaning. According to interviews I held with several Rwandan genocide survivors based in the US and in Rwanda, the commemoration period can be surprisingly and unexpectedly freeing.
One Rwandan woman in her early 40s who survived rape and was forced into hiding during the genocide explains:
When survivors gather for Kwibuka, we feel like we are allowed to express our grief in ways that might seem bizarre to outsiders. As Rwandans, culturally we are expected to be strong and not overly emotional. Yet during Kwibuka, we cry, we tell stories, and we even laugh and tell jokes. During Kwibuka we are not judged for it. This is what it looks like for survivors to move forward.
Secondly, there is genocide memory as a responsibility.
Some survivors continue to engage in commemoration as an outward form of obligation to the victims lost during the genocide.
According to interviews with several early representatives of Ibuka, the main survivors’ organisation in Rwanda, established in 1995, right after the genocide, most survivors didn’t feel ready to put their own needs aside. They doubted that justice would ever be achieved. Yet, by and large, they did it anyway for the good of the collective, or out of respect for the leaders of the movement who were advocating for their rights.
The obligation to victims remains meaningful to genocide survivors today. When sharing her testimony at the UN commemoration on 7 April 2025, genocide survivor Germaine Tuyisenge Müller discussed her personal obligation to victims.
Many of us still have guilt. We do not know why we survived. We tell our stories out of responsibility.
She was only 9 years old during the genocide.
Out of 100 people I interviewed during my research from 2013 to 2020 in Rwanda, the majority feel it’s important to attend Kwibuka ceremonies. The main reason they give is to support their neighbours and their community.
This perspective represents a change that took place some time after 2014, the 20th Kwibuka, from negative incentives to attend (pressure, surveillance from the government and potential consequences), to Kwibuka being perceived as a positive collective good, with relatively little harm in attending ceremonies. As one Rwandan I interviewed in 2017 put it:
We go because it holds communal value, it’s better to go rather than cause a problem in the community, and it isn’t a hassle for me to go Kwibuka.
Thirdly, genocide remembrance provides agency.
Many Rwandan survivors view engaging in Kwibuka as a way to have agency in the present, contrary to the genocide period when they had no control over their fate. They exercise agency through commitments and actions that support victims who experience violence today.
The majority of interview respondents shared that they reflect on different things while attending commemorations, even when official stories told might not represent the diverse range of Rwandan experiences during the genocide. These include Rwandans from mixed marriages, or individuals falsely accused of committing acts of genocide in 1994.
Shaping commemoration
How can external actors and concerned citizens support efforts that shape commemoration that transcends politics?
While it may feel that there is not much “we” can do, as ordinary global citizens, we each play an important role in protecting and promoting truth in the wake of those who manipulate history to harm survivors and gain politically. But we must be discerning. When we learn, listen to and amplify survivor voices, we must focus on two main aspects. First, are people’s stories authentic? Second, are they dedicated to pursuing justice and peace, and not causing division and conflict?
Additionally, building peace is a long struggle. It cannot happen overnight, nor can we expect it to.
Genocide survivors from Rwanda teach us that it takes active dedication and ongoing, daily work from individuals and organisations to confront and challenge rising manipulation by those who seek to promote violence and conflict. Suffering in the world is increasing. Survivor stories and testimonies shared around the world during Kwibuka become even more important to inform analysis and prevention of modern-day crimes and human rights abuses.
By remembering and honouring the struggles and sacrifices made for the right to gather and remember, the international community and stakeholders dedicated to pursuing peace can learn from the forms of remembrance that transcend politics. This includes its critical role in protecting historical truth from manipulation, one of the most significant challenges faced today.
Samantha Lakin, PhD, is a specialist in comparative genocide and a Senior Fellow at The Center for Peace, Democracy, and Development (CPDD) at the University of Massachusetts Boston. Please note: the author is writing in her personal capacity as a genocide scholar, and her views do not represent those of her current employer.
Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Charles Helm, Research Associate, African Centre for Coastal Palaeoscience, Nelson Mandela University
A team of scientists who study vertebrate fossil tracks and traces on South Africa’s southern Cape coast have identified the world’s first fossil pangolin trackway, with the help of Indigenous Master Trackers from Namibia. Ichnologists Charles Helm, Clive Thompson and Jan De Vynck tell the story.
What did you find?
A fossil trackway east of Still Bay in South Africa’s Western Cape province was found in 2018 by a colleague and was brought to our attention. It was found on the surface of a loose block of aeolianite rock (formed from hardened sand) that had come to rest near the high-tide mark in a private nature reserve.
We studied it but our cautious approach required that we could not confidently pin down what had made the track. It remained enigmatic.
How did you eventually identify it?
In 2023, we were working with two Ju/’hoansi San colleagues from north-eastern Namibia, #oma Daqm and /uce Nǂamce, who have been interpreting tracks in the Kalahari all their lives. They are certified as Indigenous Master Trackers and we consider them to be among the finest trackers in the world today. We’d called on their expertise to help us understand more about the fossil tracks on the Cape south coast. One example of the insights they provided was of hyena tracks, and we have published on this together.
We showed them the intriguing trackway, which consisted of eight tracks and two scuff marks made, apparently, by the animal’s tail. They examined the track-bearing surface at length, conversed with one another for some time, and then made their pronouncement: the trackway had been registered by a pangolin.
This was an astonishing claim, as no fossilised pangolin tracks had previously been recorded anywhere in the world.
It also confirms that pangolins were once distributed across a larger range than they are now.
We then created three-dimensional digital models of the trackway, using a technique called photogrammetry.
We shared these images with other tracking and pangolin experts in southern Africa (like CyberTracker, Tracker Academy, the African Pangolin Working Group, wildlife guides and a pangolin researcher at the Tswalu Foundation). There were no dissenting voices: not surprisingly, it was agreed that our San colleagues were highly likely correct in their interpretation.
There is something really special about a fossil trackway, compared with fossil bones – it seems alive, as if the animal could have registered the tracks yesterday, rather than so long ago.
What are the characteristics of pangolin tracks?
Pangolins are mostly bipedal (walking on two legs), with a distinctive, relatively ponderous gait. Track size and shape, the distance between the tracks, and the width of the trackway all provide useful clues, as do the tail scuff marks and the absence of obvious digit impressions. A pangolin hindfoot track, in the words of our Master Tracker colleagues, looks as if “a round stick had been poked into the ground”. And being slightly wider at the front end, it has a slightly triangular shape.
Pangolin walking (video in slow motion)
Our Master Tracker colleagues are familiar with the tracks of Temminck’s pangolin (Smutsia temminckii) in the Kalahari, which was the probable species that registered the tracks that are now evident in stone on the Cape coast. Other trackmaker candidates, such as a serval with its slim straddle, were considered, but could be excluded or regarded as far less likely.
How old is the fossil track and how do you know?
The surface would have consisted of loose dune sand when the pangolin walked on it. Now it’s cemented into rock. We work with a colleague, Andrew Carr, at the University of Leicester in the UK. He uses a technique known as optically stimulated luminescence to obtain the age of rocks in the area.
The results he provided for the region suggest that these tracks were made between 90,000 and 140,000 years ago, during the “Ice Ages”. For much of this time the coastline might have been as much as 100km south of its present location.
What’s important about this find?
Firstly, this demonstrates what you can uncover when you bring together different kinds of knowledge: our western scientific approach combined with the remarkable skill sets of the Master Trackers, which have been inculcated in them from a very young age.
Without them, the trackway would have remained enigmatic, and would have deteriorated in quality due to erosion without the trackmaker ever being identified.
Secondly, we hope it brings attention to the plight of the pangolin in modern times. There are eight extant pangolin species in the world today, and all are considered to be threatened with extinction. Pangolin meat is regarded as a delicacy, pangolin scales are used in traditional medicines, and pangolins are among the most trafficked wild animals on earth. Large numbers in Africa are hunted for their meat every year.
What does the future hold?
Our San Indigenous Master Tracker colleagues have just completed their third visit to the southern Cape coast, thanks to funding from the Discovery Wilderness Trust.
The results have once again been both unexpected and stupendous, and their tracking skills have again been demonstrated to be unparalleled. Many more publications will undoubtedly ensue, bringing their expertise to the attention of the wider scientific community and anyone interested in our fossil heritage or in ancient hunter-gatherer traditions.
We hope that our partnership continues to lead to our mutual benefit as we probe the secrets of the Pleistocene epoch by following the spoor of ancient animals.
Clive Thompson is a trustee of the Discovery Wilderness Trust, a non-profit organization that supports environmental conservation and the fostering of tracking skills.
Charles Helm and Jan Carlo De Vynck do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
When the US Embassy knocked on my door in late 2024, I was both pleased and more than a little suspicious.
I’d worked with them before, but the organisation where I did that work, Tohatoha, had closed its doors. My new project, Dark Times Academy, was specifically an attempt to pull myself out of the grant cycle, to explore ways of funding the work of counter-disinformation education without dependence on unreliable governments and philanthropic funders more concerned with their own objectives than the work I believed then — and still believe — is crucial to the future of human freedom.
But despite my efforts to turn them away, they kept knocking, and Dark Times Academy certainly needed the money. I’m warning you all now: There is a sense in which everything I have to say about counter-disinformation comes down to conversations about how to fund the work.
DARK TIMES ACADEMY
There is nothing I would like more than to talk about literally anything other than funding this work. I don’t love money, but I do like eating, having a home, and being able to give my kids cash.
I have also repeatedly found myself in roles where other people look to me for their livelihoods; a responsibility that I carry heavily and with more than a little clumsiness and reluctance.
But if we are to talk about President Donald Trump and disinformation, we have to talk about money. As it is said, the love of money is the root of all evil. And the lack of it is the manifestation of that evil.
Trump and his attack on all of us — on truth, on peace, on human freedom and dignity — is, at its core, an attack that uses money as a weapon. It is an attack rooted in greed and in avarice.
In his world, money is power But in that greed lies his weakness. In his world, money is power. He and those who serve him and his fascist agenda cannot see beyond the world that money built. Their power comes in the form of control over that world and the people forced to live in it.
Of course, money is just paper. It is digital bits in a database sitting on a server in a data centre relying on electricity and water taken from our earth. The ephemeral nature of their money speaks volumes about their lack of strength and their vulnerability to more powerful forces.
They know this. Trump and all men like him know their weaknesses — and that’s why they use their money to gather power and control. When you have more money than you and your whānau can spend in several generations, you suddenly have a different kind of relationship to money.
It’s one where money itself — and the structures that allow money to be used for control of people and the material world — becomes your biggest vulnerability. If your power and identity are built entirely on the power of money, your commitment to preserving the power of money in the world becomes an all-consuming drive.
Capitalism rests on many “logics” — commodification, individualism, eternal growth, the alienation of labour. Marx and others have tried this ground well already.
In a sense, we are past the time when more analysis is useful to us. Rather, we have reached a point where action is becoming a practical necessity. After all, Trump isn’t going to stop with the media or with counter-disinformation organisations. He is ultimately coming for us all.
What form that action must take is a complicated matter. But, first we must think about money and about how money works, because only through lessening the power of money can we hope to lessen the power of those who wield it as their primary weapon.
Beliefs about poor people If you have been so unfortunate to be subject to engagement with anti-poverty programmes during the neoliberal era either as a client or a worker, you will know that one of the motivations used for denying direct cash aid to those in need of money is a belief on the part of government and policy experts that poor people will use their money in unwise ways, be it drugs or alcohol, or status purchases like sneakers or manicures.
But over and over again, there’s another concern raised: cash benefits will be spent on others in the community, but outside of those targeted with the cash aid.
You see this less now that ideas like a universal basic income (UBI) and direct cash transfers have taken hold of the policy and donor classes, but it is one of those rightwing concerns that turned out to be empirically accurate.
Poor people are more generous with their money and all of their other resources as well. The stereotype of the stingy Scrooge is one based on a pretty solid mountain of evidence.
The poor turn out to understand far better than the rich how to defeat the power that money gives those who hoard it — and that is community. The logic of money and capital can most effectively be defeated through the creation and strengthening of our community ties.
Donald Trump and those who follow him revel in creating a world of atomised individuals focused on themselves; the kind of world where, rather than relying on each other, people depend on the market and the dollar to meet their material needs — dollars. of course, being the source of control and power for their class.
Our ability to fund our work, feed our families, and keep a roof over our heads has not always been subject to the whims of capitalists and those with money to pay us. Around the world, the grand multicentury project known as colonialism has impoverished us all and created our dependency.
Colonial projects and ‘enclosures’ I cannot speak as a direct victim of the colonial project. Those are not my stories to tell. There are so many of you in this room who can speak to that with far more eloquence and direct experience than I. But the colonial project wasn’t only an overseas project for my ancestors.
Enclosure is one of the core colonial logics. Enclosure takes resources (land in particular) that were held in common and managed collectively using traditional customs and hands them over to private control to be used for private rather than communal benefit. This process, repeated over and over around the globe, created the world we live in today — the world built on money.
As we lose control over our access to what we need to live as the land that holds our communities together, that binds us to one another, is co-opted or stolen from us, we lose our power of self-determination. Self-governance, freedom, liberty — these are what colonisation and enclosure take from us when they steal our livelihoods.
As part of my work, I keep a close eye on the approaches to counter-disinformation that those whose relationship to power is smoother than my own take. Also, in this the year of our Lord 2025, it is mandatory to devote at least some portion of each public talk to AI.
I am also profoundly sorry to have to report that as far as I can tell, the only work on counter-disinformation still getting funding is work that claims to be able to use AI to detect and counter disinformation. It will not surprise you that I am extremely dubious about these claims.
AI has been created through what has been called “data colonialism”, in that it relies on stolen data, just as traditional forms of colonialism rely on stolen land.
Risks and dangers of AI AI itself — and I am speaking here specifically of generative AI — is being used as a tool of oppression. Other forms of AI have their own risks and dangers, but in this context, generative AI is quite simply a tool of power consolidation, of hollowing out of human skill and care, and of profanity, in the sense of being the opposite of sacred.
Words, art, conversation, companionship — these are fiercely human things. For a machine to mimic these things is to transgress against all of our communities — all the more so when the machine is being wielded by people who speak openly of genocide and white supremacy.
However, just as capitalism can be fought through community, colonialism can and has been fought through our own commitment to living our lives in freedom. It is fought by refusing their demands and denying their power, whether through the traditional tools of street protest and nonviolent resistance, or through simply walking away from the structures of violence and control that they have implemented.
In the current moment, that particularly includes the technological tools that are being used to destroy our communities and create the data being used to enact their oppression. Each of us is free to deny them access to our lives, our hopes, and dreams.
This version of colonisation has a unique weakness, in that the cyber dystopia they have created can be unplugged and turned off. And yet, we can still retain the parts of it that serve us well by building our own technological infrastructure and helping people use that instead of the kind owned and controlled by oligarchs.
By living our lives with the freedom we all possess as human beings, we can deny these systems the symbolic power they rely on to continue.
That said, this has limitations. This process of theft that underlies both traditional colonialism and contemporary data colonialism, rather than that of land or data, destroys our material base of support — ie. places to grow food, the education of our children, control over our intellectual property.
Power consolidated upwards The outcome is to create ever more dependence on systems outside of our control that serve to consolidate power upwards and create classes of disposable people through the logic of dehumanisation.
Disposable people have been a feature across many human societies. We see it in slaves, in cultures that use banishment and exile, and in places where imprisonment is used to enforce laws.
Right now we see it in the United States being directed at scale towards those from Central and Latin America and around the world. The men being sent to the El Salvadorian gulag, the toddlers sent to immigration court without a lawyer, the federal workers tossed from their jobs — these are disposable people to Trump.
The logic of colonialism relies on the process of dehumanisation; of denying the moral relevance of people’s identity and position within their communities and families. When they take a father from his family, they are dehumanising him and his family. They are denying the moral relevance of his role as a father and of his children and wife.
When they require a child to appear alone before an immigration judge, they are dehumanising her by denying her the right to be recognised as a child with moral claims on the adults around her. When they say they want to transition federal workers from unproductive government jobs to the private sector, they are denying those workers their life’s work and identity as labourers whose work supports the common good.
There was a time when I would point out that we all know where this leads, but we are there now. It has led there, although given the US incarceration rate for Black men, it isn’t unreasonable to argue that in fact for some people, the US has always been there. Fascism is not an aberration, it is a continuation. But the quickening is here. The expansion of dehumanisation and hate have escalated under Trump.
Dehumanisaton always starts with words and language. And Trump is genuinely — and terribly — gifted with language. His speeches are compelling, glittering, and persuasive to his audiences. With his words and gestures, he creates an alternate reality. When Trump says, “They’re eating the cats! They’re eating the dogs!”, he is using language to dehumanise Haitian immigrants.
An alternate reality for migrants When he calls immigrants “aliens” he is creating an alternate reality where migrants are no longer human, no longer part of our communities, but rather outside of them, not fully human.
When he tells lies and spews bullshit into our shared information system, those lies are virtually always aimed at creating a permission structure to deny some group of people their full humanity. Outrageous lie after outrageous lie told over and over again crumbles society in ways that we have seen over and over again throughout history.
In Europe, the claims that women were consorting with the devil led to the witch trials and the burning of thousands of women across central and northern Europe. In Myanmar, claims that Rohinga Muslims were commiting rape, led to mass slaughter.
Just as we fight the logics of capitalism with community and colonialism with a fierce commitment to our freedom, the power to resist dehumanisation is also ours. Through empathy and care — which is simply the material manifestation of empathy — we can defeat attempts to dehumanise.
Empathy and care are inherent to all functioning societies — and they are tools we all have available to us. By refusing to be drawn into their hateful premises, by putting morality and compassion first, we can draw attention to the ridiculousness of their ideas and help support those targeted.
Disinformation is the tool used to dehumanise. It always has been. During the COVID-19 pandemic when disinformation as a concept gained popularity over the rather older concept of propaganda, there was a real moment where there was a drive to focus on misinformation, or people who were genuinely wrong about usually public health facts. This is a way to talk about misinformation that elides the truth about it.
There is an empirical reality underlying the tsunami of COVID disinformation and it is that the information was spread intentionally by bad actors with the goal of destroying the social bonds that hold us all together. State actors, including the United States under the first Trump administration, spread lies about COVID intentionally for their own benefit and at the cost of thousands if not millions of lives.
Lies and disinformation at scale This tactic was not new then. Those seeking political power or to destroy communities for their own financial gain have always used lies and disinformation. But what is different this time, what has created unique risks, is the scale.
Networked disinformation — the power to spread bullshit and lies across the globe within seconds and within a context where traditional media and sources of both moral and factual authority have been systematically weakened over decades of neoliberal attack — has created a situation where disinformation has more power and those who wield it can do so with precision.
But just as we have the means to fight capitalism, colonialism, and dehumanisation, so too do we — you and I — have the tools to fight disinformation: truth, and accurate and timely reporting from trustworthy sources of information shared with the communities impacted in their own language and from their own people.
If words and images are the chosen tools of dehumanisation and disinformation, then we are lucky because they are fighting with swords that we forged and that we know how to wield. You, the media, are the front lines right now. Trump will take all of our money and all of our resources, but our work must continue.
Times like this call for fearlessness and courage. But more than that, they call on us to use all of the tools in our toolboxes — community, self-determination, care, and truth. Fighting disinformation isn’t something we can do in a vacuum. It isn’t something that we can depersonalise and mechanise. It requires us to work together to build a very human movement.
I can’t deny that Trump’s attacks have exhausted me and left me depressed. I’m a librarian by training. I love sharing stories with people, not telling them myself. I love building communities of learning and of sharing, not taking to the streets in protest.
More than anything else, I just want a nice cup of tea and a novel. But we are here in what I’ve seen others call “a coyote moment”. Like Wile E. Coyote, we are over the cliff with our legs spinning in the air.
We can use this time to focus on what really matters and figure out how we will keep going and keep working. We can look at the blue sky above us and revel in what beauty and joy we can.
Building community, exercising our self-determination, caring for each other, and telling the truth fearlessly and as though our very lives depend on it will leave us all the stronger and ready to fight Trump and his tidal wave of disinformation.
Mandy Henk, co-founder of Dark Times Academy, has been teaching and learning on the margins of the academy for her whole career. As an academic librarian, she has worked closely with academics, students, and university administrations for decades. She taught her own courses, led her own research work, and fought for a vision of the liberal arts that supports learning and teaching as the things that actually matter. This article was originally presented as an invited address at the annual general meeting of the Asia Pacific Media Network on 24 April 2025.
ER Report: Here is a summary of significant articles published on EveningReport.nz on April 27, 2025.
Election Diary: Albanese promises around-the-clock health line, with leaders to hold rallies Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra Prime Minister Anthony Albanese will launch another push on health on Sunday, announcing a re-elected Labor government would set up a free around-the-clock 1800MEDICARE advice line and afterhours GP telehealth service. The service would be launched from January 1 and
Election Diary: Albanese promises around-the-clock health line, with leaders to hold rallies in Victoria Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra Prime Minister Anthony Albanese will launch another push on health on Sunday, announcing a re-elected Labor government would set up a free around-the-clock 1800MEDICARE advice line and afterhours GP telehealth service. The service would be launched from January 1 and
Homage paid to Pope Francis at NZ street theatre rally for Palestine Asia Pacific Report Activists for Palestine paid homage to Pope Francis in Aotearoa New Zealand today for his humility, care for marginalised in the world, and his courageous solidarity with the besieged people of Gaza at a street theatre rally just hours before his funeral in Rome. He was remembered and thanked for his daily
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese will launch another push on health on Sunday, announcing a re-elected Labor government would set up a free around-the-clock 1800MEDICARE advice line and afterhours GP telehealth service.
The service would be launched from January 1 and cost A$204.5 million over the forward estimates.
Albanese will tell a Sydney rally that people would be able to call at any time to get advice from a nurse. If the problem couldn’t wait for their regular GP, they would be connected to a free GP telehealth consultation.
“Life isn’t 9 to 5. Neither is health care,” Albanese will say in his speech, an extract of which was released ahead of delivery.
People with a sick child late at night or an unwell elderly parent would know there was trained expert advice at the end of the phone.
“This will take pressure off people – and off public hospitals.
“And in conjunction with our plan to open 50 more Medicare Urgent Care Clinics, it will ensure that free urgent care is within a 20 minute drive away for four out of every five Australians and just a phone call away for every Australian.”
The present telehealth service is patchy depending on which part of Australia people live and doesn’t provide a weekend GP service.
With a number of Victorian seats in strong contention, Opposition Leader Peter Dutton has a rally in Melbourne on Sunday. Federal Labor’s vote in Victoria has been volatile, first collapsing under the unpopularity of the state Allan government but recently reviving.
A small group of men from a boat that arrived illegally in remote northern Australia has been apprehended by Border Force. The men were first discovered by a commercial helicopter pilot.
They had written “SOS” in the sand and put up a flag. It is not known where they came from, or their circumstances.
Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke said in a statement on Saturday, “We do not confirm , or comment on, operational matters.
“There has never been a successful people smuggling venture under our government, and that remains true.
“When someone arrives without visa they are detained and then deported.”
In 2022 the Liberals tried to exploit a boat interception on election day, by publicising it and sending text messages to voters.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Activists for Palestine paid homage to Pope Francis in Aotearoa New Zealand today for his humility, care for marginalised in the world, and his courageous solidarity with the besieged people of Gaza at a street theatre rally just hours before his funeral in Rome.
He was remembered and thanked for his daily calls of concern to Gaza and his final public blessing last Sunday — the day before he died — calling for a ceasefire in Israel’s genocidal war on the Palestinian enclave.
Several speakers thanked the late Pope for his humanitarian concerns and spiritual leadership at the vigil in Auckland’s “Palestinian Corner” in Te Komititanga Square, beside the Britomart transport hub, as other rallies were held across New Zealand over the weekend.
“Last November, Pope Francis said that what is happening in Gaza was not a war. It was cruelty,” said Catholic deacon Chris Sullivan. “Because Israel is always claiming it is a war. But it isn’t a war, it’s just cruelty.”
During the last 18 months of his life, Pope Francis had a daily ritual — he called Gaza’s only Catholic church to see how people were coping with the “cruel” onslaught.
Deacon Sullivan said the people of the church in Gaza “have been attacked by Israeli rockets, Israeli shells, and Israeli snipers, and a number of people have been killed as a result of that.”
In his Easter message before dying, Pope Francis said: “I appeal to the warring parties: call a ceasefire, release the hostages and come to the aid of a starving people that aspires to a future of peace.”
‘We lost the best man’ Also speaking at today’s rally, Dr Abdallah Gouda said: “We lost the best man. He was talking about Palestine and he was working to stop this genocide.
“Pope Francis; as a Palestinian, as a Palestinian from Gaza, and as a Moslem, thank you Pope Francis. Thank you. And we will never, never forget you.
“As we will always talk about you, the man who called every night to talk to the Palestinians, and he asked, ‘what do you eat’. And he talked to leaders around the world to stop this genocide.”
Pope Francis called Gaza’s Catholic parish every night. Video: AJ+
In Rome, the coffin of Pope Francis made its way through the city from the Vatican after the funeral to reach Santa Maria Maggiore basilica for a private burial ceremony.
It arrived at the basilica after an imposing funeral ceremony at St Peter’s Square.
The Vatican said that more than 250,000 people attended the open-air service that was held under clear blue skies
Dozens of foreign dignitaries, including heads of state, were also in attendance.
Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re eulogised Pope Francis as a pontiff who knew how to communicate to the “least among us” and urged people to build bridges and not walls.
In Auckland at the “guerrilla theatre” event, several highly publicised examples of recent human rights violations and war crimes in Gaza were recreated in several skits with “actors” taking part from the crowd.
Palestinian Dr Faiez Idais role played the kidnapping of courageous Kamal Adwan Hospital medical director Dr Hussam Abu Safiya by the Israeli military last December and his detention and torture in captivity since.
Palestinian Dr Faiez Idais (hooded) during his role play for courageous Kamal Adwan Hospital medical director Dr Hussam Abu Safiya held prisoner by Israeli forces since December 2024. Image: APR
Khalil was seized by ICE agents from his university apartment without a warrant and abducted to a remote immigration prison in Louisiana but the courts have blocked his deportation in a high profile case.
He is one of at least 300 students who have been captured ICE agents for criticising Israel and its genocide.
A one-and-a-half-year-old child holds a “peace for all children” in Gaza placard at today’s rally. Image: APR
The skits included a condemnation of the US corporation Starbucks, the world’s leading coffee roaster and retailer, with mock blood being kicked over fake bodies on the plaza.
The backlash against the brand has caused heavy losses and 100 outlets in Malaysia have been forced to shut down.
Singers and musicians Hone Fowler, who was also MC, Brenda Liddiard and Mark Laurent — including their dedicated “Make Peace Today” inspired by Jesus’ “Blessed are the peacemakers” — also lifted the spirits of the crowd.
Protesters call for an end to the genocide in Palestine, both in Gaza and the West Bank. Image: APR
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese will launch another push on health on Sunday, announcing a re-elected Labor government would set up a free around-the-clock 1800MEDICARE advice line and afterhours GP telehealth service.
The service would be launched from January 1 and cost A$204.5 million over the forward estimates.
Albanese will tell a Melbourne rally that people would be able to call at any time to get advice from a nurse. If the problem couldn’t wait for their regular GP, they would be connected to a free GP telehealth consultation.
“Life isn’t 9 to 5. Neither is health care,” Albanese will say in his speech, an extract of which was released ahead of delivery.
People with a sick child late at night or an unwell elderly parent would know there was trained expert advice at the end of the phone.
“This will take pressure off people – and off public hospitals.
“And in conjunction with our plan to open 50 more Medicare Urgent Care Clinics, it will ensure that free urgent care is within a 20 minute drive away for four out of every five Australians and just a phone call away for every Australian.”
The present telehealth service is patchy depending on which part of Australia people live and doesn’t provide a weekend GP service.
With a number of Victorian seats in strong contention, Opposition Leader Peter Dutton also has a rally in Melbourne on Sunday. Federal Labor’s vote in Victoria has been volatile, first collapsing under the unpopularity of the state Allan government but recently reviving.
A small group of men from a boat that arrived illegally in remote northern Australia has been apprehended by Border Force. The men were first discovered by a commercial helicopter pilot.
They had written “SOS” in the sand and put up a flag. It is not known where they came from, or their circumstances.
Home Affairs Minister Tony Burke said in a statement on Saturday, “We do not confirm , or comment on, operational matters.
“There has never been a successful people smuggling venture under our government, and that remains true.
“When someone arrives without visa they are detained and then deported.”
In 2022 the Liberals tried to exploit a boat interception on election day, by publicising it and sending text messages to voters.
Michelle Grattan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This Monday marks 80 years since Italian dictator Benito Mussolini was killed in an Italian village towards the end of the Second World War in 1945. The following day, his body was publicly desecrated in Milan.
Given the scale of Adolf Hitler’s atrocities, our image of fascism today has largely been shaped by Nazism. Yet, Mussolini preceded Hitler. Il Duce, as Mussolini was known, was Hitler’s inspiration.
Today, as commentators, bloggers and scholars are debating whether the governments of US President Donald Trump, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban and Russian President Vladimir Putin are “fascist”, we can learn from Il Duce’s career about how democracies fail and dictators consolidate autocratic rule.
The early years
The term “fascist” itself originated around the time of Mussolini’s founding in 1914 of the Fasci d’Azione Rivoluzionaria, a militaristic group promoting Italy’s entry into the First World War.
Mussolini had been raised in a leftist family. Before WWI, he edited and wrote for socialist newspapers. Yet, from early on, the young rebel was also attracted to radically anti-democratic thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche, George Sorel, and Wilfred Pareto.
When WWI broke out, Mussolini broke from the socialists, who opposed Italy’s involvement in the conflict. Like Hitler, he fought in the war. Mussolini considered his front-line experience as formative for his future ideas around fascism. His war experience led him to imagine making Italy great again – an imperial power worthy of the heritage of ancient Rome.
In March 1919, Mussolini formed the Fasci Italiani di Combattimento in Milan. This group brought together a motley collection of war veterans, primarily interested in fighting the socialists and communists. They were organised in squadristi (squads), which would become known for their black shirts and violence – they forced many of their targets to drink castor oil.
The political success of Mussolini’s fascist ideals, however, was neither instant nor inevitable. In the 1919 Italian elections, Mussolini received so few votes, communists held a mock funeral march outside his house to celebrate his political death.
The rise to power and the march on Rome
Fascism became a part of national political life in 1920-21, following waves of industrial and agricultural strikes and worker occupations of land and factories.
As a result, rural and industrial elites turned to the fascist squadristi to break strikes and combat workers’ organisations. Fascist squads also overturned the results of democratic elections in Bologna and Cremona, preventing left-wing candidates from assuming office.
The following October, fascists occupied the towns of Bolzano and Trento. The liberals, socialists and Italian monarchy were indecisive in the face of these provocations, allowing Mussolini to seize the moment. Mustering the fascist squads, he ordered the famous “march on Rome” in late October 2022 to demand he be appointed prime minister.
All the evidence suggests if the government had intervened, the march on Rome would have disbanded. It was a bold piece of political theatre. Nevertheless, fearing civil war — and the communists more than the black shirts — King Victor Emmanuel III caved in without a shot being fired.
Mussolini was made leader of a new government on October 31, 1922.
The consolidation of dictatorship
Like Hitler in 1933, Mussolini’s rule started as the head of a coalition government including non-fascist parties. Yet, with the repressive powers of the state now at his disposal, Mussolini exploited the division among his rivals and gradually consolidated power.
In 1923, the communist party was targeted with mass arrests and the fascist squads were brought under official state control as a paramilitary force. Mussolini began to use state powers to surveil all non-fascist political parties.
In the 1924 general election, with fascist militia menacingly manning the polls, Il Duce won 65% of the vote.
Then, in June, socialist leader Giacomo Matteotti was kidnapped and murdered by black shirts. When investigations pointed to Mussolini’s responsibility, he at first denied any knowledge of the killing. Months later, however, Mussolini proudly admitted responsibility for the deed, celebrating the fascists’ brutality. He faced no legal or political consequences.
The last nail in the coffin of Italy’s enfeebled democracy came in late 1926. Following an assassination attempt in which Mussolini’s nose was grazed (he wore a bandage for a time afterwards), Mussolini definitively banned all political opposition.
The “lesser evil”
Following his death in April 1945, Mussolini’s dictatorship was often portrayed as “dictatorship-lite”, a “lesser evil” compared to Nazism or Stalinist Russia. This narrative, bolstered by German crimes against Italians in the last months of the war, has understandably been embraced by many Italians.
Mussolini also pursued an imperialist dream by invading Ethiopia. Defying international conventions, Il Duce’s troops used chemical weapons and summary executions to quell acts of resistance. Over 700,000 Ethiopians are estimated by scholars to have been killed by the invaders, with around 35,000 forced into internment camps.
Italian Ca-111 bombers over Ethiopia in the 1930s. Getty Images/Wikimedia Commons
Mussolini’s fascists ran over 30 concentration camps from 1926–45, almost all of them offshore. Some 50–70,000 Libyans alone died in camps set up under Italy’s brutal colonial regime from 1929–34. Many more died through executions, starvation and ethnic cleansing.
Slovenian prisoner of the Italian Rab concentration camp. Archives, Museum of Modern History, Ljubljana/Wikimedia Commons
From late 1943, Italian fascists also participated in the rounding up of over 7,000 Italian Jews to transfer to Auschwitz. Almost all of them were murdered.
Following the war, even with Il Duce dead, few perpetrators faced justice for these atrocities.
Lessons for democracies after 80 years
The infamy of the crimes associated with the word “fascism” has meant that few people today claim the label – even those attracted to the same kinds of authoritarian, ethnonationalist politics.
Mussolini, even more than Hitler, can seem a bombastic fool, with his uniform, theatrical gestures, stylised hyper-masculinity and patented steely jaw.
Yet, one of the lessons of Mussolini’s career is that such political adventurists are only as strong as the democratic opposition allows. To fail to take them seriously is to enable their success.
Mussolini pushed his luck time and again between 1920 and 1926. As the wonderful recent teleseries of his ascent, Mussolini, Figlio del Seculo shows, time and again, the opposition failed to concertedly oppose the fascists’ attacks on democratic norms and institutions. Then it was too late.
Democracies mostly fall over time, by a thousand cuts and shifts of the goalposts of what is considered “normal”. Fascism, moreover, depends in no small measure on shameless political deception, including the readiness to conceal its own most radical intentions.
Fascist “strongmen” like Mussolini accumulate power thanks to people’s inabilities to believe that the barbarisation of political life – including open violence against opponents – could happen in their societies.
And there is a final, unsettling lesson of Mussolini’s career. Il Duce was a skilled propagandist who portrayed himself as leading a popular revolt to restore respectable values. He was able to win widespread popular support, including among the elites, even as he destroyed Italian democracy.
Yet, if the monarchy, military, other political parties and the church had attempted a principled, united opposition to fascism early enough, most of Mussolini’s crimes would likely have been avoided.
Matthew Sharpe has in the past (2013-17) received funding from the ARC to study religion and politics in the contemporary world.
ER Report: Here is a summary of significant articles published on EveningReport.nz on April 26, 2025.
80 years after Benito Mussolini’s death, what can democracies today learn from his fascist rise? Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Matthew Sharpe, Associate Professor in Philosophy, Australian Catholic University Hitler and Mussolini in Munich, Germany, June 18, 1940. Everett Collection/Shutterstock This Monday marks 80 years since Italian dictator Benito Mussolini was killed in an Italian village towards the end of the Second World War in 1945. The
Samoan nun tells of ‘like a blur’ awesome meeting with Pope Francis By Susana Suisuiki, RNZ Pacific presenter The doors of St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican have now been closed and the coffin sealed, ahead of preparations for tonight’s funeral of Pope Francis. The Vatican says a quarter of a million people have paid respects to Pope Francis in the last three days. Sister Susana Vaifale
Israel’s endgame for tormented Gaza is political and physical erasure COMMENTARY: By Nour Odeh There was faint hope that efforts to achieve a ceasefire deal in Gaza would succeed. That hope is now all but gone, offering 2.1 million tormented and starved Palestinians dismal prospects for the days and weeks ahead. Last Saturday, the Israeli Prime Minister once again affirmed he had no intention to
Trump signs ‘deeply dangerous’ order to fast-track deep sea mining An ocean conservation non-profit has condemned the United States President’s latest executive order aimed at boosting the deep sea mining industry. President Donald Trump issued the “Unleashing America’s offshore critical minerals and resources” order on Thursday, directing the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) to allow deep sea mining. The order states: “It is the
Election Diary: Dutton tops list of most distrusted, amid deepening voter cynicism about political leaders Source: The Conversation (Au and NZ) – By Michelle Grattan, Professorial Fellow, University of Canberra In this election, voters are more distrustful than ever of politicians, and the political heroes of 2022 have fallen from grace, swept from favour by independent players. A Roy Morgan survey has found, for the first time, that Australians are
Pacific editor welcomes US court ruling in favour of Radio Free Asia By Koroi Hawkins, RNZ Pacific editor The former head of BenarNews’ Pacific bureau says a United States court ruling this week ordering the US Agency for Global Media (USAGM) to release congressionally approved funding to Radio Free Asia and its subsidiaries “makes us very happy”. However, Stefan Armbruster, who has played a key role in
This Monday marks 80 years since Italian dictator Benito Mussolini was killed in an Italian village towards the end of the Second World War in 1945. The following day, his body was publicly desecrated in Milan.
Given the scale of Adolf Hitler’s atrocities, our image of fascism today has largely been shaped by Nazism. Yet, Mussolini preceded Hitler. Il Duce, as Mussolini was known, was Hitler’s inspiration.
Today, as commentators, bloggers and scholars are debating whether the governments of US President Donald Trump, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban and Russian President Vladimir Putin are “fascist”, we can learn from Il Duce’s career about how democracies fail and dictators consolidate autocratic rule.
The early years
The term “fascist” itself originated around the time of Mussolini’s founding in 1914 of the Fasci d’Azione Rivoluzionaria, a militaristic group promoting Italy’s entry into the First World War.
Mussolini had been raised in a leftist family. Before WWI, he edited and wrote for socialist newspapers. Yet, from early on, the young rebel was also attracted to radically anti-democratic thinkers like Friedrich Nietzsche, George Sorel, and Wilfred Pareto.
When WWI broke out, Mussolini broke from the socialists, who opposed Italy’s involvement in the conflict. Like Hitler, he fought in the war. Mussolini considered his front-line experience as formative for his future ideas around fascism. His war experience led him to imagine making Italy great again – an imperial power worthy of the heritage of ancient Rome.
In March 1919, Mussolini formed the Fasci Italiani di Combattimento in Milan. This group brought together a motley collection of war veterans, primarily interested in fighting the socialists and communists. They were organised in squadristi (squads), which would become known for their black shirts and violence – they forced many of their targets to drink castor oil.
The political success of Mussolini’s fascist ideals, however, was neither instant nor inevitable. In the 1919 Italian elections, Mussolini received so few votes, communists held a mock funeral march outside his house to celebrate his political death.
The rise to power and the march on Rome
Fascism became a part of national political life in 1920-21, following waves of industrial and agricultural strikes and worker occupations of land and factories.
As a result, rural and industrial elites turned to the fascist squadristi to break strikes and combat workers’ organisations. Fascist squads also overturned the results of democratic elections in Bologna and Cremona, preventing left-wing candidates from assuming office.
The following October, fascists occupied the towns of Bolzano and Trento. The liberals, socialists and Italian monarchy were indecisive in the face of these provocations, allowing Mussolini to seize the moment. Mustering the fascist squads, he ordered the famous “march on Rome” in late October 2022 to demand he be appointed prime minister.
All the evidence suggests if the government had intervened, the march on Rome would have disbanded. It was a bold piece of political theatre. Nevertheless, fearing civil war — and the communists more than the black shirts — King Victor Emmanuel III caved in without a shot being fired.
Mussolini was made leader of a new government on October 31, 1922.
The consolidation of dictatorship
Like Hitler in 1933, Mussolini’s rule started as the head of a coalition government including non-fascist parties. Yet, with the repressive powers of the state now at his disposal, Mussolini exploited the division among his rivals and gradually consolidated power.
In 1923, the communist party was targeted with mass arrests and the fascist squads were brought under official state control as a paramilitary force. Mussolini began to use state powers to surveil all non-fascist political parties.
In the 1924 general election, with fascist militia menacingly manning the polls, Il Duce won 65% of the vote.
Then, in June, socialist leader Giacomo Matteotti was kidnapped and murdered by black shirts. When investigations pointed to Mussolini’s responsibility, he at first denied any knowledge of the killing. Months later, however, Mussolini proudly admitted responsibility for the deed, celebrating the fascists’ brutality. He faced no legal or political consequences.
The last nail in the coffin of Italy’s enfeebled democracy came in late 1926. Following an assassination attempt in which Mussolini’s nose was grazed (he wore a bandage for a time afterwards), Mussolini definitively banned all political opposition.
The “lesser evil”
Following his death in April 1945, Mussolini’s dictatorship was often portrayed as “dictatorship-lite”, a “lesser evil” compared to Nazism or Stalinist Russia. This narrative, bolstered by German crimes against Italians in the last months of the war, has understandably been embraced by many Italians.
Mussolini also pursued an imperialist dream by invading Ethiopia. Defying international conventions, Il Duce’s troops used chemical weapons and summary executions to quell acts of resistance. Over 700,000 Ethiopians are estimated by scholars to have been killed by the invaders, with around 35,000 forced into internment camps.
Italian Ca-111 bombers over Ethiopia in the 1930s. Getty Images/Wikimedia Commons
Mussolini’s fascists ran over 30 concentration camps from 1926–45, almost all of them offshore. Some 50–70,000 Libyans alone died in camps set up under Italy’s brutal colonial regime from 1929–34. Many more died through executions, starvation and ethnic cleansing.
Slovenian prisoner of the Italian Rab concentration camp. Archives, Museum of Modern History, Ljubljana/Wikimedia Commons
From late 1943, Italian fascists also participated in the rounding up of over 7,000 Italian Jews to transfer to Auschwitz. Almost all of them were murdered.
Following the war, even with Il Duce dead, few perpetrators faced justice for these atrocities.
Lessons for democracies after 80 years
The infamy of the crimes associated with the word “fascism” has meant that few people today claim the label – even those attracted to the same kinds of authoritarian, ethnonationalist politics.
Mussolini, even more than Hitler, can seem a bombastic fool, with his uniform, theatrical gestures, stylised hyper-masculinity and patented steely jaw.
Yet, one of the lessons of Mussolini’s career is that such political adventurists are only as strong as the democratic opposition allows. To fail to take them seriously is to enable their success.
Mussolini pushed his luck time and again between 1920 and 1926. As the wonderful recent teleseries of his ascent, Mussolini, Figlio del Seculo shows, time and again, the opposition failed to concertedly oppose the fascists’ attacks on democratic norms and institutions. Then it was too late.
Democracies mostly fall over time, by a thousand cuts and shifts of the goalposts of what is considered “normal”. Fascism, moreover, depends in no small measure on shameless political deception, including the readiness to conceal its own most radical intentions.
Fascist “strongmen” like Mussolini accumulate power thanks to people’s inabilities to believe that the barbarisation of political life – including open violence against opponents – could happen in their societies.
And there is a final, unsettling lesson of Mussolini’s career. Il Duce was a skilled propagandist who portrayed himself as leading a popular revolt to restore respectable values. He was able to win widespread popular support, including among the elites, even as he destroyed Italian democracy.
Yet, if the monarchy, military, other political parties and the church had attempted a principled, united opposition to fascism early enough, most of Mussolini’s crimes would likely have been avoided.
Matthew Sharpe has in the past (2013-17) received funding from the ARC to study religion and politics in the contemporary world.
The doors of St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican have now been closed and the coffin sealed, ahead of preparations for tonight’s funeral of Pope Francis.
The Vatican says a quarter of a million people have paid respects to Pope Francis in the last three days.
Sister Susana Vaifale of the Missionaries of Faith has lived in Rome for more than 10 years and worked at the Vatican’s St Peter’s parish office.
She told RNZ Pacific Waves that when she met the Pope in 2022 for an “ad limina” (obligatory visit) with the bishops from Papua New Guinea and Solomon Islands, she was lost for words.
“When I was there in front of him, it’s like a blur, I couldn’t say anything,” she said.
Sister Vaifale said although she was speechless, she thought of her community back home in Samoa.
“In my heart, I brought everyone, I mean my country, my people and myself. So, in that time . . . I was just looking at him and I said, ‘my goodness’ I’m here, I’m in front of the Pope, Francis . . . the leader of the Catholic Church.”
At Easter celebration Sister Vaifale said she was at the Easter celebration in St Peter’s Square where Pope Francis made his last public appearance.
However, the next day it was announced that Pope Francis died.
The news shattered Sister Vaifale who was on a train when she heard what had happened.
“Oh, I cried, yeah I cried . . . until now I am very emotional, very sad.”
“He passed at 7:30 . . . I am very sad but like we say in Samoa: ‘maliu se toa ae toe tula’i mai se toa’.. so, it’s all in God’s hands.”
Pope Francis with Fatima Leung Wai in Krakow, Poland in 2016. Image: Fatima Leung Wai/RNZ Pacific
Siblings pay final respects The Leung-Wai family from South Auckland are in Rome and joined the long queue to pay their final respects to Pope Francis lying in state at St Peter’s Basilica.
Fatima Leung-Wai along with her siblings Martin and Ann-Margaret are proud of their Catholic faith and are active parishioners at St Peter Chanel church in Clover Park.
The family’s Easter trip to Rome was initially for the canonisation of Blessed Carlo Acutis — a young Italian boy who died at the age of 15 from leukemia and is touted to be the first millennial saint.
Leung Wai siblings in St Peter’s Basilica were among the thousands paying their final respects to Pope Francis. Image: Leung Wai family/RNZ Pacific
Plans changed as soon as they heard the news of the Pope’s death.
Leung-Wai said it took an hour and a half for her and her siblings to see the Pope in the basilica and the crowd numbers at St Peter’s Square got bigger each day.
Despite only seeing Pope Francis’ body for a moment, Leung-Wai said she was blessed to have met him in 2016 for World Youth Day in Krakow, Poland.
She said Pope Francis was well-engaged with the youth.
“I was blessed to have lunch with him nine years ago,” Leung-Wai said.
“Meeting him at that time he was like a grandpa, he was like very open and warm and very much interested in what the young people and what we had to say.”
Leung Wai siblings with their parents, mum Lesina, and dad Aniseko. Image: Leung Wai family/RNZ Pacific
Back in 1998, Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan was widely acclaimed for the bloody realism of its opening scenes. In Warfare, co-directors Ray Mendoza and Alex Garland have achieved something very similar for the Iraq war (2003-2011).
This time, however, the assault on the senses lasts for almost the entire duration of the film – around 95 mins. The result is an unrelenting depiction of 21st-century battle which both invokes and disrupts the generic conventions of the combat film.
Warfare begins by staking a claim to authenticity. The opening credits tell us that it is based entirely on the memories of those who were there: the members of a US Navy Seal platoon involved in an operation in the immediate aftermath of the 2006 Battle of Ramadi.
In pre-release interviews, Mendoza – a Seal veteran and former member of the platoon – explained that Warfare was made as a purposeful attempt to provide a visual account of what happened for a comrade (Elliott Miller, played in the film by Cosmo Jarvis) who lost his memory after a horrific battlefield injury.
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It is by no means the only war film to find inspiration in the memories of veterans. From The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) to Lone Survivor (2013), traumatic first-hand experiences have long informed Hollywood’s depictions of war and its aftermath.
But in Warfare this framing has a very deliberate consequence. It telescopes the action so that questions of broader political context are necessarily sidelined in favour of the visceral experiences of those on the ground. The Seals are there because they are there – no other rationale for their mission is offered.
Towards the start, Warfare also follows some well-trodden ground when it pointedly lingers on the boredom before battle. This is reminiscent of another work of filmic war memoir, 2005’s Jarhead.
The Seals sweat and swear until, suddenly, chaos is catalysed. What follows is among the most intense depictions of combat ever seen on the big screen. Besieged by an ever-present, yet largely out-of-sight enemy, the embattled soldiers fight to protect one another, rescue their wounded and escape. As they do so, the fog of war descends.
This is where the film most clearly reveals its debt to the war film genre. Indeed, for all the originality of its screenplay Warfare actually invokes several familiar generic motifs of the combat film. The most obvious is the focus on a platoon, but two others also stand out.
The trailer for Warfare.
One concerns the film’s narrative centre: a band of isolated and outnumbered American warriors battling heroically against the odds. A popular motif in American culture since at least the 1836 Battle of the Alamo (during the Texas Revolution), it has been used and reused over the years in countless westerns and war films, perhaps most explicitly in 2016’s 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi. In its underlying structure, the story told by Warfare is informed by this very same trope.
A second familiar motif is the film’s Shakespearean meditation on the brotherhood of battle. Like 2001’s HBO mini-series Band of Brothers (about a company of second world war paratroopers), this is a story of men at war. Blood is shed and unbreakable bonds are forged.
It is here though that Garland and Mendoza also disrupt. For where Henry V offers his “happy few” a validating cause, no such higher purpose reveals itself in Warfare.
In fact, these undoubtedly brave warriors are clearly unwelcome invaders. The fraught interactions with the frightened (and unnamed) Iraqi civilians whose home they have occupied makes this obvious, as do the persistent attempts by Iraqi insurgents to kill them.
Whatever happens, therefore, one thing is certain: these Seals, unlike their second world war predecessors, will not be greeted as liberators by flag-waving locals casting garlands of flowers.
This is where Warfare reveals that for all its telescoped focus it is not apolitical after all. Quite the contrary; the film is inescapably a product of its moment.
The fighting “out there”, says Warfare, offered no redeeming purpose and so for veterans all that is left are memories of the love and the loyalty between those who went into battle, together.
Seen like this, Warfare’s place in the genre also now becomes clear. This is a Band of Brothers for those who fought the war on terror. It’s a point made especially apparent in the closing credits which feature photos of the real Seal veterans next to those of the actors who played them (not unlike how each episode of Band of Brothers included veterans’ testimony).
Warfare’s structure, focus, and elisions speak volumes about the chasm in American culture – particularly in the eyes of veterans – that separates the “good war” of the 1940s from the far less popular conflicts of the early 21st century.
Sam Edwards has previously received funding from the ESRC, the US-UK Fulbright Commission, the US Army Military History Institute, and the US Naval War College. Sam is a Trustee of The D-Day Story (Portsmouth) and of Sulgrave Manor (Northamptonshire), he is a Governor of The American Library (Norwich), he is Co-Editor of the British Journal for Military History, and he is Vice-Chair of the Transatlantic Studies Association.
Politicians and economists have been pretty vocal in their response to the ongoing saga of Donald Trump’s tariffs. But much less has been heard from the world’s poorest workers about how they will be affected.
For when the US president first set out his reciprocal tariffs – later paused for 90 days – some of the highest rates were for countries like Vietnam (46%), Bangladesh (37%) and Cambodia (49%).
These are places that make huge amounts of the clothes we wear, and even the reduced 10% tariff could be a big blow to their economies – and the people who depend on them.
Because aside from the well known sweatshop conditions suffered by many workers in these places, brands and manufacturers often offset new costs by passing them on to workers in the form of lower wages and higher demands.
And those working conditions are already challenging. The minimum wage for one of Cambodia’s 1 million garment workers (from a total population of 16 million) is just US$208 (£155.50) per month.
Around 80% of those workers are women, whose wages often support children and elderly parents, who don’t have the security of a state pension safety net.
It is these workers and their families who may end losing the most in Trump’s trade war. But they are used to geopolitics affecting their everyday lives, having suffered the impact of tariffs fairly recently – from the EU.
In 2020, Cambodia’s duty-free, quota-free access to the EU market (usually granted to developing countries) was partially revoked as a punitive response to human rights concerns. Tariffs averaging 11% were added to some product lines, mostly clothing and footwear, which covered about 20% of Cambodia’s total exports to the EU.
The Cambodian government immediately responded by cutting public holidays and workplace benefits to try offset any increase in costs.
It has since slowed the rate of minimum wage growth to below inflation. Both actions slashed real wages and made the challenge of economic survival even harder for those who depend on the industry.
Now, as Trump’s latest tariffs take hold – even at the lower rate of 10% – many garment and footwear industry workers will fear for their jobs.
But even those “lucky” enough to keep them will face mounting pressures to produce more, and more quickly, to offset rising costs – at the direct expense of their own financial security and wellbeing.
The idea that tariffs will ultimately bring jobs back to the US ignores that fact that these jobs – precarious, underpaid and frequently dangerous – are not the kind of jobs that any American would want.
And the evidence suggests that if even if they did want them, international manufacturing supply chains are more deeply embedded than people might think.
After the EU imposed its tariffs on Cambodia for example, brands could have looked to circumvent those added costs by relocating production. As it turned out, the volume of trade between Cambodia and the EU has remained steady since – because sometimes there’s no alternative.
With Cambodia, companies have not been willing or able to shift production to competitors like Bangladesh, Myanmar or Sri Lanka, partly due to the political volatility in those countries.
Added to this is the fact that clothes production has become highly specialised geographically. Cambodia’s distance from the EU means it focuses mainly on seasonal fashion “basics” such as T-shirts and knitwear.
Closer countries like Turkey and Morocco concentrate on the latest fast fashion trends, as their shorter shipping routes mean they can be quicker to respond to changing tastes.
It is not that easy to unsettle the systems and markets that are already in place.
As a result, in the global garment industry at least, Trump’s tariffs may not trigger a complete restructuring of the world’s supply chains. In the short term, they are instead likely to cause great uncertainty, reducing investors’ appetite for long-term planning, and reducing their confidence.
Orders may slow and prices may rise. And Cambodians making the world’s T-shirts and trainers will face even more pressure on their wages and working conditions.
Sabina Lawreniuk receives funding from UKRI through a Future Leaders Fellowship (grant ref MR/ W013797/1).
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Eva Marquis, Research Fellow in Critical Minerals and Circular Economy, University of Exeter
On February 18, contamination in the Kafue river, Zambia, led to a mass death of fish. Its water turned a deathly grey and adjacent farmland was poisoned. The drinking water it supplied to half a million residents of the town of Kitwe was suddenly cut off.
Reports suggest that this catastrophe was caused by the failure of the Chambishi tailings storage facility. Tailings are mixed liquid-solid mine wastes that remain after the valuable materials are removed from the crushed ores.
But tailings storage facilities can and do fail. The Chambishi failure was caused by a break in a wall between two tailings ponds containing acidic water. Fifty million litres of this water, equivalent to 20,000 Olympic swimming pools, spilled into a tributary of the Kafue river, and then into the river itself.
The Kafue is a lifeline, flowing through 990 miles (1,600km) of Zambia, providing water for around 5 million people and supporting fishing and agriculture. That lifeline is still threatened by the ongoing damage of this failure.
Tailings are a produce of society’s voracious appetite for metals and materials. With growing demand for technologies for the energy transition, digitalisation and development, production of metals and materials and the volumes of tailings are set to vastly increase.
Identifying suitable sites for safe storage is likely to become more challenging. Space will become more of a premium as more tailings are produced, and risks will evolve with changing climate and growing global population. For instance, storage facility plans developed before mining begins may no longer be suitable for their intended use over the life of the operation.
The ability to safely store and manage tailings is a key factor in the development of metals projects. By extension, that’s fundamental to enabling an equitable and responsible energy transition.
A broad range of technical, social and environmental uncertainties have been linked to the management of tailings storage facilities. These uncertainties, combined with financial practices such as discounting future costs, can result in future costs (such as long-term tailings management and rehabilitation) being underestimated in mining project cash flows, and sizeable costs for future generations.
Without a fully understanding of the true long-term costs, making the economic case for improved tailings management becomes that much harder.
Reducing risks and improving outcomes
Improved mechanisms for quantifying the cost of tailings in the short, medium and long term, whether tailings storage facilities fail or not, are essential for adequately financing these long-term legacies of mining. Mechanisms to reduce volumes of waste produced not only have the potential to improve project economics over the lifetime of a mine but can also enhance social and environmental outcomes both during and beyond the life of a mine.
Tailings can be used as sources of aggregate materials for construction and critical metals for the green transition, and for carbon capture and storage. These opportunities will be context specific, however, and there will not be a one-size-fits-all approach to tailings reduction and responsible management.
Innovations in tailings storage, like using tailings to fill worked-out underground mining tunnels, can remove tailings from the surface environment, eliminating risk from landslides, dust, seepages and other hazards. Even with these efforts, tailings storage facilities will continue to be used and will need to be managed.
Reducing, reclaiming and regenerating the environments that have been negatively affected by tailings will require collaborative approaches. Financing is a clear barrier to responsible tailings management. Without knowing the true social, environmental and economic costs of tailings legacies, the ability to overcome this barrier to responsible management is hampered.
Don’t have time to read about climate change as much as you’d like?
Eva Marquis receives funding from EPSRC, NERC, and Innovate UK.
Karen Hudson-Edwards receives funding from NERC, BBSRC, EPSRC, the Technology Strategy Board (Innovate UK), the Royal Society and the EU Horizon 2020 programme.
However, when asked in the same survey what proportion of others in their country would be willing to do the same, the average estimate was only 43%. This underestimation of others’ concern is known as pluralistic ignorance.
This fuels a vicious cycle: silence begets silence. People hesitate to advocate for policies like cycle lanes or meat taxes, fearing social isolation, while politicians avoid championing measures seen as “career-limiting”. The result is a democracy trapped by unspoken consensus.
Research on UK MPs reveals how this plays out. Even climate-conscious politicians frame low-carbon lifestyles such as avoiding flying or eating meat as extreme, wary of hypocrisy accusations if their personal choices fall short. This “greenhushing” isn’t just political caution – it’s a failure to recognise that most people are primed to follow bold examples.
When leaders visibly adopt low-carbon behaviour, they can help address pluralistic ignorance. For instance, MPs who cycle or opt for the train instead of taking short-haul flights don’t just reduce emissions; they signal that such choices are normal, desirable, and shared.
The invisible transition
While individual actions matter, systemic change requires policies to steer collective transformation. Consider the UK’s early phase-out of inefficient lightbulbs: a 1.26 million tonne annual CO₂ reduction achieved not through personal sacrifice, but by banning the sale of halogen bulbs that emitted more heat than light.
Progress on lightbulbs, renewable electricity or more efficient fridges are all part of an “invisible transition” towards a lower-carbon society – a series of changes already woven into our economy that often go unnoticed by the public. Reframing these achievements as collective victories – your home insulation, our renewable grid – can build momentum for tougher measures.
For decades, fridges got bigger yet became more efficient and used less electricity. Prostock-studio / shutterstock
Building on progress
Public willingness to make sacrifices for climate action is closely tied to perceptions of fairness and necessity. Crucially, people want to see that their own efforts are being matched by others, especially those with larger carbon footprints. This is why leaders and other high-profile people should visibly lead by example, demonstrating commitment and helping to establish new social norms.
Research shows that public support for subsidies for heat pumps, solar panels, electric vehicles and other low-carbon technologies often depends on whether these subsidies are perceived as fair and inclusive.
Most agree that subsidies must help ensure that all households, especially those with lower incomes, can be involved. This makes it especially important for wealthy and high profile people to lead by example.
Coalitions of the visible: uniting everyday leaders
Leaders who take low-carbon actions are seen as more credible, not less. The most effective leadership frames climate action as pragmatic and rooted in everyday life, rather than as a test of virtue.
Research by the NGO Climate Outreach demonstrates that shared, relatable stories – such as parents campaigning for solar panels at their children’s schools – can shift social norms and build momentum for collective action. These “narrative workshops” have shown that people respond most strongly when climate solutions are presented through the lens of their own values and aspirations, rather than as abstract technical fixes.
The Green Salon Collective’s Mirror Talkers initiative is another creative example: by placing climate conversation prompts on salon mirrors, hairdressers are empowered to spark everyday discussions with clients. This kind of grassroots engagement helps normalise climate conversations in places you wouldn’t expect.
Overcoming pluralistic ignorance requires leaders to articulate a new story – one that acknowledges the “invisible transition” already underway while inviting everyone to help finish the job.
This means equipping leaders at every level with the tools and confidence to adopt and advocate for low-carbon choices. It also means normalising the reality that climate leadership is not about perfection, but about consistency and transparency.
Figures like Clover Hogan, founder of Force of Nature, and Christiana Figueres, former UN climate chief, openly share their own “climate confessions” – acknowledging the challenges, contradictions and imperfect choices that come with striving for a low-carbon life. By embracing and communicating their imperfections, they demonstrate that visible, relatable climate leadership is about honesty and persistence, helping to shift expectations and inspire others to take action in their own lives.
Authentic climate leadership can transform public understanding of climate solutions. By illuminating the transition already in progress – and their own part in it – leaders can transform pluralistic ignorance into pluralistic action.
The task is not to convince people to care about climate change, but to show them that they already do, and to make visible the collective progress that is often hidden in plain sight.
Sam Hampton receives funding from the Economics and Social Research Council. He is affiliated with the University of Oxford and University of Bath.
Tina Fawcett currently receives funding from UKRI.
This year marks the 80th anniversary of the first Moomin tale, The Moomins and the Great Flood. In the book, Moomintroll and his friends embark on a journey to find their home after a great flood devastates Moominvalley, meeting odd creatures and new friends along their journey.
The book was first published in creator Tove Jansson’s native Swedish in 1945. However, the first Moomin book to have an English edition was in fact the third of the Moomin books, Trollkarlens Hatt (The Hobgoblin’s Hat). It was translated by Jansson’s friend Elizabeth Portch and reached its widest English-speaking audience when it was published by Puffin Books in 1961 as Finn Family Moomintroll.
At the beginning of the story Moomintroll finds a magical top hat. It can transform anything that is placed inside of it into something else entirely – and so the adventures begin.
This is part of a series of articles celebrating the 80th anniversary of the Moomins. Want to celebrate their birthday with us? Join The Conversation and a group of experts on May 23 in Bradford for a screening of Moomins on the Riviera and a discussion of the refugee experience in Tove Jansson’s work. Click here for more information and tickets.
Unlike the Swedish-language edition, Portch’s translation of Finn Family Moomintroll begins with a letter from Moominmamma. It’s written in a curly cursive and dotted with love-hearts and an image of an apparently “hand-drawn” troll. The letter is addressed to a “dear child” who is “overseas”.
In it, Moominmamma expresses disbelief at the idea that there may not be any Moomins “there over” and that the child she is addressing may “not even know what a troll is” (hence the illustration).
Moominmamma’s wonder at the differences in custom between her own land and “your country” is based on an assumption that the two must be somewhat alike. Similarly, her explanation of what Moomintrolls are depends on their difference from the “usual common trolls”, which means there must be familial similarity between them.
The Moomins and the Great Flood was Jansson’s first Moomins book.
Both Moominmamma’s wonder at and explanation of difference assume an underlying essential similarity or sameness between Moominvalley, where she lives, and the reader’s home. This is significant in a story that explores ideas of foreignness and translation, change and transformation.
Though the adventures in Finn Family Moomintroll might be said to only truly begin on the spring morning when Moomintroll, Sniff and Snufkin find “a tall black hat”, the book opens with the Moomins settling down for their winter hibernation and closes with the valley in autumn.
The changes wrought by the Hobgoblin’s hat are “quite different” because “you never know beforehand” what they will be. However, their extreme nature is framed and contained by a world in which there are known and predictable changes in the seasons, as well as routine – though sometimes dramatic – changes in the weather.
The Hemulen is unperturbed by the hat’s transformation of eggshells into fluffy little clouds that Moomintroll and his friends are able to ride. That’s because he is “so used to [them] doing extraordinary things”. But when Moomintroll is transformed by the hat into “a very strange animal indeed”, so much so that his friends do not recognise him, it’s a very different matter.
A moment of real jeopardy occurs when Moomintroll’s own mother does not seem to recognise him either. But this is soon dispelled when Moominmamma looks “into his frightened eyes for a very long time” and quietly declares: “Yes, you are my Moomintroll.”
This moment of recognition breaks the spell and Moomintroll changes back into “his old self again”. One of the crucial features of the hat is the changes it makes are only temporary and this, together with Moominmamma’s reassurance that she will “always know [Moomintroll], whatever happens”, suggests an ultimately unchanging essence to things that cannot be denied.
Changelessness as deadening
On the other hand, the book suggests that some change is to be embraced.
Sniff’s desire for things to stay the same “for ever and ever” is portrayed as immature and wrong-headed. As is the Muskrat’s obsessive quest for peace and stillness which ends up with his apparent, though temporary, transformation into a monster.
Snufkin’s point that “life is not peaceful” offers a gentle rebuke to the Hemulen, who also wishes to “live his life in peace and quiet”. But perhaps the clearest indication of the book’s attitude to changelessness is the monstrous Groke. She is motivated by an unwavering drive to recover the “King’s Ruby”, not because this thing which “changes colour all the time” is “the most beautiful thing in the world”, but because it is “the most expensive”.
The Groke’s inability to appreciate the ruby aesthetically is presented as being rooted in her own immutability. That the Groke’s hostility to change is itself deadening, becomes evident when she sits “motionless” before the Moomins and their friends, staring at them in a way that makes them feel “she would wait for ever” and eventually departs leaving the ground behind her frozen in the wrong season.
This, then, is key. Adventure, transformation and change in Finn Family Moomintroll are both necessary and desirable, but they are also contained within a reassuring frame of reliable predictability. The final lines of the English translation are: “It is autumn in Moomin Valley, for how else can spring come back again?”
Sue Walsh does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
If you’ve been unfortunate enough to scroll through TikTok lately, the algorithm may have convinced you that cortisol, your body’s main stress hormone, is ruining your life.
Yes, according to social media content creators, stress is giving you a repulsive “cortisol belly” and puffing up your sad “cortisol face.” And, of course, this is what’s holding us all back from achieving the full influencer, ideal dream life. If it weren’t for my raging cortisol levels, I’m sure I’d be knee-deep in Lamborghinis and beating off admirers with a stick by now.
But is there any scientific evidence behind the cortisol craze? After all, this is just the latest in a long line of reasons social media has given us to believe we are inferior to the living gods of TikTok. Or maybe, just maybe, this is another grift designed to harvest likes, sell dodgy merch and drive engagement. Surely not.
Cortisol is a natural hormone produced by your adrenal glands, located just above your kidneys. For millennia, humans have relied on cortisol – in fact, we can’t survive without it. Most of the time, it helps regulate our daily rhythms and behaviour.
And yes, it’s true that stress (whether caused by an approaching sabre toothed tiger or having a high-pressure job) rapidly and reliably triggers cortisol release. But this isn’t bad. Cortisol isn’t trying to ruin your summer body, it’s trying to keep you alive and give you the energy to run or fight.
So yes, cortisol has its downsides – but then again, so does everything in excess. Even TikTok.
Research shows that people with sustained high cortisol levels tend to store more fat in the abdominal area and around the face. This was first described nearly a century ago – in 1932, by neurosurgeon Harvey Cushing (don’t bother looking him up, he’s not on socials).
But this applies to Cushing’s disease, a rare medical disorder. The cortisol released from everyday stress doesn’t even come close to the levels or duration seen in Cushing’s.
Also, let’s not pretend your face or belly fat is solely cortisol’s fault. Fat distribution is the result of a complex mix of genetics, diet, sleep, exercise and hormones. Blaming one hormone for everything is like blaming the rise of air fryers for global warming.
Chill out about cortisol
If you’re genuinely concerned about stress or its effects on your health, I have good news: you don’t need to buy anything or follow the “cortisol detox” advice of social media influencers.
Here are some stress-reducing tips. They are simple. They are boring. And they work:
“Cortisol belly” and “cortisol face” might sound catchy, but they reduce incredibly complex biological processes into bite-sized insecurities. Social media’s obsession with cortisol isn’t about health, it’s about content and clicks.
Stress is real, but don’t let a billionaire influencer who wakes up at 3:53am to mainline turmeric tell you your face is “hormonal” and your stomach is “inflamed”.
You don’t need to fix yourself with trendy hacks. Just put the phone down and chill. Which, ironically, might be the most effective cortisol-lowering advice of all.
Craig Doig has received funding from The Physiological Society, Society for Endocrinology and the Defence Medical Services.
India has taken the highly significant step of suspending the 1960 Indus waters treaty, which governs water sharing with Pakistan, as part of its response to the April 22 terrorist attack in Kashmir that killed at least 26 people.
India’s foreign secretary, Vikram Misri, said that “the Indus Waters Treaty of 1960 will be held in abeyance with immediate effect, until Pakistan credibly and irrevocably abjures its support for cross-border terrorism”.
India holds Pakistan responsible for the attack, and has responded by putting in place several other measures including telling Pakistani nationals to leave the country.
The attack happened in Pahalgam in the part of Kashmir controlled by India. Both India and Pakistan claim the region, which has been the site of several military conflicts since 1947 and a long-running insurgency since the 1990s.
The thorny question of shared rivers — a legacy of the partition of India and Pakistan at independence from British rule in 1947 — is now entangled with the larger, and escalating, dispute between the counties.
A formal letter from India’s water resources ministry cited both “sustained cross border terrorism by Pakistan” and Pakistan’s refusal to renegotiate the terms of the treaty as key reasons for its suspension.
The treaty suspension could harm Pakistani agriculture in the short term, and seriously disrupt downstream irrigation water supplies to farmers. Significantly, the decision abruptly changes the treaty’s status from an agreement that has been largely (if not fully) insulated from the decades-long conflict between India and Pakistan.
The 1960 treaty splits the management of the transnational Indus River basin between the two countries. India gained full rights over the Ravi, Beas and Sutlej, three tributaries of the Indus River known collectively as the eastern rivers. Pakistan gained most of the rights over three western rivers – the Indus main stem and two more tributaries, the Jhelum and Chenab.
More recently, growing disagreement has stemmed from India’s right to build some hydropower plants on the western rivers. Pakistan has objected to Indian project designs, arguing that they breach the terms of the treaty. India has accused Pakistan of intransigence in blocking its projects.
Since 2023, when India demanded amendments to the treaty, the two countries have held inconclusive talks. The suspension of the treaty is a new move, but also a logical development of increasing bilateral tensions over the treaty, which was kept separate from security issues for decades.
Indian politicians threatened to reduce water supplies to Pakistan in response to terrorist attacks in 2016 and 2019. The threat to punish Pakistan is likely to play well in India while public shock and anger over the attack is fresh. It also distracts attention from questions about possible Indian intelligence failures.
But previous threats stopped short of putting the Indus waters treaty into abeyance, so the suspension now needs to be taken seriously.
The impact will vary depending on how long it lasts. With the treaty suspended, India could change the way it operates existing water-control infrastructure on the western rivers.
Its engineers could flush sediment out of the reservoir of the upstream Kishenganga hydroelectric project and then refill the reservoir over a period of days. Previously, under the treaty, this could only be done during the peak monsoon period when water levels are highest.
It could now happen earlier, refilling reservoirs just when downstream farmers in Pakistan, who depend heavily on river water for irrigation, need a plentiful supply at the beginning of the crop-sowing season. India could also stop sharing water-flow data with Pakistan, making it harder for the latter to plan the management of its own hydropower and flood-control infrastructure.
Longer term, India could construct bigger projects on the western rivers that do not need to comply with the Indus waters treaty’s restrictions, more seriously reducing water availability in Pakistan. It would take years, though, for India to build these projects.
What does India hope to gain?
India stands to gain from using the treaty as leverage. The demand that Pakistan “abjure its support for cross-border terrorism” holds the resumption of water cooperation hostage to progress on a wider point of bilateral conflict, and strengthens India’s hand in renegotiating the treaty.
Internationally, treaty suspension may seem a comparatively measured response by India. Other forms of signalling displeasure, such as nuclear posturing, are too reputationally risky for a country that has worked hard to project itself as a responsible nuclear-armed state.
But Indian leaders will be aware that stopping the flow of the Indus waters is a potential red line for Pakistan and that Indian decisions about water sharing could goad Pakistan into nuclear threats.
India’s decision to suspend the water treaty has already predictably pushed Pakistan to make a subtle nuclear threat on April 24. It suggested that blocking or diverting water allocated to Pakistan under the treaty would be an “act of war,” and that it would consider the “complete spectrum of national power” as a response.
An escalation of rhetoric has already ensued between the two countries, with Pakistan announcing that it would “exercise the right to hold all bilateral agreements with India… in abeyance”, including the Simla agreement that ended the 1971 war between India and Pakistan.
Fears of escalation
There are fears that the current crisis could follow the path of the dangerous escalation seen in 2019, when Indian prime minister, Narendra Modi, authorised an airstrike on Pakistani soil following a terror attack that killed dozens of Indian security personnel. Pakistan responded with airstrikes on Indian-administered Kashmir before both sides found a way to deescalate the situation.
Today, the US, a traditional mediator between these two nations at crisis moments, may play a hands-off role. However, new facilitators such as China, Saudi Arabia and the UAE seemingly played a part in winding down tensions in 2019, and could step in again.
On concluding the Indus waters negotiations in 1960, then Indian prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, spoke of the treaty as “a happy symbol not only in this domain of the use of the Indus valley waters, but in the larger co-operation between the two countries”. The logic is now reversed. The current Indian government has woven water sharing and conflict back together.
Daniel Haines has received funding from United Kingdom Research and Innovation (UKRI) for his work on South Asian history and water politics via a British Academy Postdoctoral Fellowship and an AHRC-ESRC-FCO Knowledge Exchange Fellowship.
Kate Sullivan de Estrada does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The Jordanian authorities have banned the Muslim Brotherhood, the largest opposition movement in the kingdom, in a major new crackdown. On Wednesday April 23, security forces raided Brotherhood offices, confiscating assets and property, and outlawed all of the group’s activities.
One week earlier, 16 Brotherhood members were arrested for allegedly plotting attacks on targets inside Jordan using rockets and drones. The Brotherhood, whose members Jordanian interior minister Mazen al-Faraya says “operate in the shadows and engage in activities that could undermine stability and security”, has denied any links to the attack plots.
The ban on the Brotherhood, an Islamist movement that wants a greater role for religion in public life, comes at a time when the Jordanian government is facing intense pressure over the war in Gaza.
The Brotherhood organised months of demonstrations in solidarity with Palestinians. It has also been vocal in its support for the Palestinian armed group Hamas, and has demanded the cancellation of Jordan’s peace treaty with Israel.
At the same time, Jordan’s King Abdullah II has come under heavy pressure from the Donald Trump administration in the US to resettle Palestinians from the occupied Gaza Strip and West Bank. If he were to agree, the move would risk being seen as a betrayal of the Palestinian cause.
The Jordanian authorities have had an uneasy relationship with the Brotherhood since the late 1980s, when the kingdom’s political system opened up. They have looked to curb its influence.
In 2016, the Brotherhood’s headquarters in the capital, Amman, was closed and its assets were transferred to a new organisation called the Association of the Society of the Muslim Brotherhood, known as the “permitted” Muslim Brotherhood. As ideological splits emerged in the movement, the authorities have tried to exploit internal divisions.
The latest crackdown represents a striking repressive turn. It marks a shift away from containing the movement to excluding it from public life.
Yet the Brotherhood remains popular. In September 2024, the Islamic Action Front, the political party affiliated with the movement, surprised observers by winning parliamentary elections. It took 31 seats in the 138-seat parliament, securing victory in constituencies across the country in its best election performance in more than three decades.
Its success was largely down to the Brotherhood’s demonstrations in support of Palestinians. These demonstrations resonated in Jordan, where around half the population is of Palestinian origin. The party also benefited from changes in the electoral laws prior to the election, which gave more weight to political parties and less to independent candidates.
But under Jordan’s authoritarian system, the king holds most of the power, especially in internal security and foreign affairs. The palace tightly controls political life. So the Islamic Action Front was not invited to join the new government, which is made up of pro-monarchy parties.
The key question now is whether the authorities will also ban the Islamic Action Front, despite its electoral gains.
Conflict with the crown
Even before the latest crackdown, Islamists in Jordan feared a confrontation with the authorities. Many suspected the palace wanted to close the Brotherhood movement and leave a weakened party that might be more easily contained.
During a visit to Jordan shortly after the elections in September, one senior Islamic Action Front figure told me: “They [the monarchy] just want a party in a superficial form. A party without any presence.”
Although the Brotherhood had been under pressure, it was still able to operate most of its activities. Senior party members even took part in a royal committee on “political modernisation” in 2021, which drew up reforms to change the electoral laws to strengthen political parties.
Yet many in the Brotherhood feared a confrontation with the palace was coming. One senior Brotherhood figure told me in October 2024: “The Brotherhood is a vast, widespread organisation with a social and a political presence. A clash between the state and the Brotherhood would have negative effects on society and on the legitimacy of the political system.”
Jordan’s Brotherhood is not alone in facing a crisis. Other Islamist organisations across the region are experiencing political setbacks, more than a decade after the 2011 Arab Spring uprisings seemed to offer them new opportunities.
In Tunisia, where a democratic transition has been sharply reversed since 2021, dozens of leaders from the Islamist Ennahda party have been jailed.
The arrests were part of a broad wave of repression against regime critics, including politicians, judges, lawyers and human rights activists. Ennahda, which spent a decade in government between 2011 and 2021, has suffered internal splits.
In Morocco, the Justice and Development party, an Islamist party which also spent a decade in government from 2011, suffered a heavy defeat in the most recent elections in 2021.
The party’s losses were partly a result of restrictions at the time of the vote. These included new rules about how seats were apportioned and the fact that some party candidates were disqualified from running.
But the losses were also because of internal disputes after Prime Minister Saadeddine Othmani signed a normalisation agreement with Israel in 2020 to avoid a confrontation with the monarchy, which controls foreign affairs.
In Kuwait, parliament was suspended in 2024 because the ruling emir, Sheikh Meshal al-Ahmad al-Sabah, complained about political gridlock. This kept all opposition parties, including Islamists, out of the political process. And in Algeria, Islamist parties have been co-opted or marginalised since the bitter civil war of the 1990s.
Opinion polls show that many people in the Middle East want to see a significant role for religion in public life. But rulers across the region are increasingly wary of Islamist parties, which want not only to introduce a more conservative social agenda but to challenge undemocratic regimes.
Rory McCarthy receives funding for his academic research from the British Academy and the Leverhulme Trust.
Source: The Conversation – UK – By Dafydd Townley, Teaching Fellow in US politics and international security, University of Portsmouth
Throughout the 2024 presidential election campaign, Donald Trump denied claims he intended to shape his second administration’s policies around Project 2025, the Heritage Foundation’s blueprint for a renewed conservative America. But despite his repeated denials, Trump 2.0 has adopted much of Project 2025 into the White House’s agenda.
The Heritage Foundation, the right-wing Washington think tank which published Project 2025, has provided policy guidance for Republican presidents since the Reagan administration. Despite the foundation’s longevity, Project 2025 has met with opposition from many quarters.
The 900-page publication, Mandate for Leadership: the Conservative Promise, was published in 2023. It went largely under the radar until Democrats and civil liberty champions established Stop Project 2025 during the presidential campaign. Essentially, Project 2025 consists of policy recommendations for each department of the executive branch.
The project has several broad objectives. It aims to reassert presidential power by removing federal agencies’ independence and appointing political loyalists rather than career civil servants. It sets out to dismantle the administrative state by cancelling initiatives and projects that do not match conservative aims.
It reinforces traditional conservative family values and rolls back on LGBTQ+ and reproductive rights. It removes regulatory constraints aligned with climate and environmental protections and weakens consumer protection laws. And it calls for increased deportations of illegal aliens and the imposition of harsh immigration restrictions.
Even before he had taken office, Trump and his team sought to replace career-long specialists in federal agencies with those that matched his own beliefs. His transition team used Project 2025 to guide its appointment of officials for the forthcoming administration. Reports quoting insiders within Trump’s team say that the team consulted a database of Trump loyalists created by the Heritage Foundation to fill vacancies.
Contributors to Project 2025 were also appointed to key roles. These have included including border tsar, Tom Homan, and CIA director John Ratcliffe. Brendan Carr, the Trump-appointed chairman of the Federal Communications Committee, wrote a chapter of Project 2025 on the committee.
The principal author of Project 2025, Russ Vought, has been appointed as director of the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) – the nerve centre of the federal government’s expenditure. Vought’s influence within the administration has led one journalist to call him “the real mastermind behind Trump’s imperial presidency”.
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The alignment of Trump’s policy decisions and Project 2025’s objectives continued after he was inaugurated on January 20. The raft of executive orders issued by Trump during the first few weeks reflected many of Project 2025’s ambitions.
CNN analysed the 53 executive orders signed by Trump in his first week as president and concluded that 36 of those orders mirrored proposals within the Heritage Foundation’s brief. The alignment spread across numerous departments.
Trump’s controversial reciprocal tariffs on US imported goods match Project 2025’s desire for free trade and its belief that the World Trade Organization’s most favoured nation principle is unfair. Although both Trump tariffs and Project 2025 have a foundation in economic nationalism, Trump has favoured a broad and aggressive approach compared to Project 2025’s more targeted aims.
The savings to federal expenditure proposed by Doge, the unofficial Department of Government Efficiency led by Elon Musk, are also broadly covered within the paper. A theme running throughout Project 2025 is ensuring value for taxpayers by reducing unnecessary government expenditure.
But while a large amount of Project 2025 has already been incorporated into the administration’s policies, there is still a significant number of recommendations and initiatives that remain to be implemented.
What’s still to come?
While Trump has already ended the use of federal taxpayer dollars to fund or promote elective abortion through Executive Order 14182, Project 2025 calls for stronger initiatives to support a pro-life position by threatening to withhold funding to states if they fail to adhere to new guidelines. These penalties could be incurred through states failing to report to the Center for Disease and Control Prevention (CDC) data on how many abortions take place within the state, for example.
The administration has also not yet matched Project 2025’s calls for increasing the defence budget to 5% of GDP. Earlier this month, however, Trump and his defense secretary, Pete Hegseth, promised that their next budget proposal would include a $1 trillion defence budget. Hegseth posted on X that the money would be spent on ‘lethality and readiness.’
Trump’s recent criticisms of the refusal by Federal Reserve chair, Jerome Powell, to lower interest rates might suggest that he agrees with Project 2025’s criticism of the Federal Reserve and its recommendation that it be abolished. But the market’s negative reaction to Trump’s attack on Powell looks likely to end any prospect of eradicating the Fed.
Perhaps a greater concern to Americans is Project 2025’s designs for social security. As part of the focus on fiscal stability, the authors of Project 2025 have recommended that the retirement age be increased from 67 to 69. Social security reforms have been discussed by the administration but yet to be put into place.
When questioned, Republican legislators have stopped short of telling constituents that Social Security is safe from change. After all, Trump maintained that he has no plans to either reduce social security payments or increase the retirement age.
However, just this week, Trump and Doge have announced cuts to the Social Security Administration (SSA), the body that administers payments. This has led to concerns for the former SSA director, Martin O’Malley, who suggested that the cuts would mean that future payments of vital benefits might be delayed.
Where the administration turns next is unclear. There are hundreds of policy recommendations within the 900-page document, some of which have been implemented in full, others only in part.
Nonetheless, Project 2025 has acted as a blueprint for much of the new Trump administration’s policies, even though the White House has shown some reluctance to incorporate all of the recommendations within the project.
There are signs, however, that the administration has not yet finished with Project 2025 and that the conservative wishlist continues to influence the administration’s policymaking decisions.
Dafydd Townley does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
The scheduled talks follow the two previous rounds of indirect negotiations that have taken place under the new Trump administration. Those discussions were deemed to have yielded enough progress to merit sending nuclear experts from both sides to begin outlining the specifics of a potential framework for a deal.
The development is particularly notable given that Trump, in 2018, unilaterally walked the U.S. away from a multilateral agreement with Iran. That deal, negotiated during the Obama presidency, put restrictions on Tehran’s nuclear program in return for sanctions relief. Trump{,} instead turned to a policy that involved tightening the financial screws on Iran through enhanced sanctions while issuing implicit military threats.
But that approach failed to disrupt Iran’s nuclear program.
Now, rather than revive the maximum pressure policy of his first term, Trump – ever keen to be seen as a dealmaker – has given his team the green light for the renewed diplomacy and even reportedly rebuffed, for now, Israel’s desire to launch military strikes against Tehran.
Jaw-jaw over war-war
The turn to diplomacy returns Iran-US relations to where they began during the Obama administration, with attempts to encourage Iran to curb or eliminate its ability to enrich uranium.
As a long-time expert on U.S. foreign policy and nuclear nonproliferation, I believe Trump has a unique opportunity to not only reinstate a similar nuclear agreement to the one he rejected, but also forge a more encompassing deal – and foster better relations with the Islamic Republic in the process.
There are real signs that a potential deal could be in the offing, and it is certainly true that Trump likes the optics of dealmaking.
But an agreement is by no means certain. Any progress toward a deal will be challenged by a number of factors, not least internal divisions and opposition within the Trump administration and skepticism among some in the Islamic Republic, along with uncertainty over a succession plan for the aging Ayatollah Khamenei.
Conservative hawks are still abundant in both countries and could yet derail any easing of diplomatic tensions.
Many Iranians would say relations have been strained since 1953, when the U.S. and the United Kingdom orchestrated the overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh, the democratically elected prime minister of Iran.
Washington and Tehran have not had formal diplomatic relations since 1979, and the two countries have been locked in a decadeslong battle for influence in the Middle East. Today, tensions remain high over Iranian support for a so-called axis of resistance against the West and in particular U.S. interests in the Middle East. That axis includes Hamas in Palestine, Hezbollah in Lebanon and the Houthis in Yemen.
For its part, Tehran has long bristled at American hegemony in the region, including its resolute support for Israel and its history of military action. In recent years that U.S. action has included the direct assaults on Iranian assets and personnel. In particular, Tehran is still angry about the 2020 assassination of Qassem Soleimani, the head of the Quds Force of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
Standing atop these various disputes, Iran’s nuclear ambitions have proved a constant source of contention for the United States and Israel, the latter being the only nuclear power in the region.
The prospect of warmer relations between the two sides first emerged during the Obama administration – though Iran sounded out the Bush administration in 2003 only to be rebuffed.
U.S. diplomats began making contact with Iranian counterparts in 2009 when Undersecretary of State for Political Affairs William Burns met with an Iranian negotiator in Geneva. The so-called P5+1 began direct negotiations with Iran in 2013. This paved the way for the eventual Iran nuclear deal, or Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA), in 2015. In that agreement – concluded by the U.S., Iran, China, Russia and a slew of European nations – Iran agreed to restrictions on its nuclear program, including limits on the level to which it could enrich uranium, which was capped well short of what would be necessary for a nuclear weapon. In return, multilateral and bilateral U.S. sanctions would be removed.
Many observers saw it as a win-win, with the restraints on a burgeoning nuclear power coupled with hopes that greater economic engagement with the international community that might temper some of Iran’s more provocative foreign policy behavior.
Yet Israel and Saudi Arabia worried the deal did not entirely eliminate Iran’s ability to enrich uranium, and right-wing critics in the U.S. complained it did not address Iran’s ballistic missile programs or support for militant groups in the region.
Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel, draws a red line on a graphic of a bomb while discussing Iran at the United Nations on Sept. 27, 2012. Mario Tama/Getty Images
When Trump first took office in 2016, he and his foreign policy team pledged to reverse Obama’s course and close the door on any diplomatic opening. Making good on his pledge, Trump unilaterally withdrew U.S. support for the JCPOA despite Iran’s continued compliance with the terms of the agreement and reinstated sanctions.
Donald the dealmaker?
So what has changed? Well, several things.
While Trump’s withdrawal from the JCPOA was welcomed by Republicans, it did nothing to stop Iran from enhancing its ability to enrich uranium.
Meanwhile, Saudi Arabia, eager to transform its image and diversify economically, now supports a deal it opposed during the Obama administration.
In this second term, Trump’s anti-Iran impulses are still there. But despite his rhetoric of a military option should a deal not be struck, Trump has on numerous occasions stated his opposition to U.S. involvement in another war in the Middle East.
In addition, Iran has suffered a number of blows in recent years that has left it more isolated in the region. Iranian-aligned Hamas and Hezbollah have been seriously weakened as a result of military action by Israel. Meanwhile, strikes within Iran by Israel have shown the potential reach of Israeli missiles – and the apparent willingness of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to use them. Further, the removal of President Bashar al-Assad in Syria has deprived Iran of another regional ally.
Tehran is also contending with a more fragile domestic economy than it had during negotiations for JCPOA.
With Iran weakened regionally and Trump’s main global focus being China, a diplomatic avenue with Iran seems entirely in line with Trump’s view of himself as a dealmaker.
A deal is not a given
With two rounds of meetings completed and the move now to more technical aspects of a possible agreement negotiated by experts, there appears to be a credible window of opportunity for diplomacy.
This could mean a new agreement that retains the core aspects of the deal Trump previously abandoned. I’m not convinced a new deal will look any different from the previous in terms of the enrichment aspect.
There are still a number of potential roadblocks standing in the way of any potential deal, however.
As was the case with Trump’s meetings with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un during his first term, the president seems to be less interested in details than spectacle. While it was quite amazing for an American leader to meet with his North Korean counterpart, ultimately, no policy meaningfully changed because of it.
As has become a common theme in Trump administration foreign policy – even with its own allies on issues like trade – it’s unclear what a Trump administration policy on Iran actually is, and whether a political commitment exists to carry through any ultimate deal.
Top Trump foreign policy negotiator Steve Witkoff, who has no national security experience, has exemplified this tension. Tasked with leading negotiations with Iran, Witkoff has already having been forced to walk back his contention that the U.S. was only seeking to cap the level of uranium enrichment rather than eliminate the entirety of the program.
For its part, Iran has proved that it is serious about diplomacy, previously having accepted Barack Obama’s “extended hand.”
But Tehran is unlikely to capitulate on core interests or allow itself to be humiliated by the terms of any agreement.
Ultimately, the main question to watch is whether a deal with Iran is to be concluded by pragmatists – and then to what extent, narrow or expansive – or derailed by hawks within the administration.
Jeffrey Fields receives funding from the Carnegie Corporation of New York.
In 1995, World Bank Vice President Ismail Serageldin warned that whereas the conflicts of the previous 100 years had been over oil, “the wars of the next century will be fought over water.”
Thirty years on, that prediction is being tested in one of the world’s most volatile regions: Kashmir.
On April 24, 2025, the government of India announced that it would downgrade diplomatic ties with its neighbor Pakistan over an attack by militants in Kashmir that killed 26 tourists. As part of that cooling of relations, India said it would immediately suspend the Indus Waters Treaty – a decades-old agreement that allowed both countries to share water use from the rivers that flow from India into Pakistan. Pakistan has promised reciprocal moves and warned that any disruption to its water supply would be considered “an act of war.”
The current flareup escalated quickly, but has a long history. At the Indus Basin Water Project at the Ohio State University, we are engaged in a multiyear project investigating the transboundary water dispute between Pakistan and India.
I am currently in Pakistan conducting fieldwork in Kashmir and across the Indus Basin. Geopolitical tensions in the region, which have been worsened by the recent attack in Pahalgam, Indian-administered Kashmir, do pose a major threat to the water treaty. So too does another factor that is helping escalate the tensions: climate change
A fair solution to water disputes
The Indus River has supported life for thousands of years since the Harappan civilization, which flourished around 2600 to 1900 B.C.E. in what is now Pakistan and northwest India.
After the partition of India in 1947, control of the Indus River system became a major source of tension between the two nations that emerged from partition: India and Pakistan. Disputes arose almost immediately, particularly when India temporarily halted water flow to Pakistan in 1948, prompting fears over agricultural collapse. These early confrontations led to years of negotiations, culminating in the signing of the Indus Waters Treaty in 1960.
Brokered by the World Bank, the Indus Waters Treaty has long been hailed as one of the most successful transboundary water agreements.
It divided the Indus Basin between the two countries, giving India control over the eastern rivers – Ravi, Beas and Sutlej – and Pakistan control over the western rivers: Indus, Jhelum and Chenab.
At the time, this was seen as a fair solution. But the treaty was designed for a very different world. Back then, India and Pakistan were newly independent countries working to establish themselves amid a world divided by the Cold War.
When it was signed, Pakistan’s population was 46 million, and India’s was 436 million. Today, those numbers have surged to over 240 million and 1.4 billion, respectively.
This has put increased pressure on the precious source of water that sits between the two nuclear rivals. The effects of global warming, and the continued fighting over the disputed region of Kashmir, has only added to those tensions.
Impact of melting glaciers
Many of the problems of today are down to what wasn’t included in the treaty, rather than what was.
At the time of signing, there was a lack of comprehensive studies on glacier mass balance. The assumption was that the Himalayan glaciers, which feed the Indus River system, were relatively stable.
This lack of detailed measurements meant that future changes due to climate variability and glacial melt were not factored into the treaty’s design, nor were factors such as groundwater depletion, water pollution from pesticides, fertilizer use and industrial waste. Similarly, the potential for large-scale hydraulic development of the region through dams, reservoirs, canals and hydroelectricity were largely ignored in the treaty.
Reflecting contemporary assumptions about the stability of glaciers, the negotiators assumed that hydrological patterns would remain persistent with the historic flows.
Instead, the glaciers feeding the Indus Basin began to melt. In fact, they are now melting at record rates.
The World Meteorological Organization reported that 2023 was globally the driest year in over three decades, with below-normal river flows disrupting agriculture and ecosystems. Global glaciers also saw their largest mass loss in 50 years, releasing over 600 gigatons of water into rivers and oceans.
And a study by the International Center for Integrated Mountain Development found that Hindu Kush-Karakoram-Himalayan glaciers melted 65% faster in 2011–2020 compared with the previous decade.
The rate of glacier melt poses a significant challenge to the treaty’s long-term effectiveness to ensure essential water for all the people who rely on the Indus River Basin. While it may temporarily increase river flow, it threatens the long-term availability of water.
Indeed, if this trend continues, water shortages will intensify, particularly for Pakistan, which depends heavily on the Indus during dry seasons.
Another failing of the Indus Waters Treaty is that it only addresses surface water distribution and does not include provisions for managing groundwater extraction, which has become a significant issue in both India and Pakistan.
In the Punjab region – often referred to as the breadbasket of both nations – heavy reliance on groundwater is leading to overexploitation and depletion.
Groundwater now contributes a large portion – about 48% – of water withdrawals in the Indus Basin, particularly during dry seasons. Yet there is no transboundary framework to oversee the shared management of this resource as reported by the World Bank.
A disputed region
It wasn’t just climate change and groundwater that were ignored by the drafters of the Indus Waters Treaty. Indian and Pakistan negotiators also neglected the issue and status of Kashmir.
Kashmir has been at the heart of India-Pakistan tensions since Partition in 1947. At the time of independence, the princely state of Jammu and Kashmir was given the option to accede to either India or Pakistan. Though the region had a Muslim majority, the Hindu ruler chose to accede to India, triggering the first India-Pakistan war.
This led to a U.N.-mediated ceasefire in 1949 and the creation of the Line of Control, effectively dividing the territory between Indian-administered and Pakistani-administered Kashmir. Since then, Kashmir has remained a disputed territory, claimed in full by both countries and serving as the flashpoint for two additional wars in 1965 and 1999, and numerous skirmishes.
Despite being the primary source of water for the basin, Kashmiris have had no role in negotiations or decision-making under the treaty.
The region’s agricultural and hydropower potential has been limited due to restrictions on the use of its water resources, with only 19.8% of hydropower potential utilized. This means that Kashmiris on both sides — despite living in a water-rich region — have been unable to fully benefit from the resources flowing through their land, as water infrastructure has primarily served downstream users and broader national interests rather than local development.
Some scholars argue that the treaty intentionally facilitated hydraulic development in Jammu and Kashmir, but not necessarily in ways that served local interests.
India’s hydropower projects in Kashmir — such as the Baglihar and Kishanganga dams — have been a major point of contention. Pakistan has repeatedly raised concerns that these projects could alter water flows, particularly during crucial agricultural seasons.
However, the Indus Waters Treaty does not provide explicit mechanisms for resolving such regional disputes, leaving Kashmir’s hydrological and political concerns unaddressed.
Tensions over hydropower projects in Kashmir were bringing India and Pakistan toward diplomatic deadlock long before the recent attack.
The Kishanganga and Ratle dam disputes, now under arbitration in The Hague, exposed the treaty’s growing inability to manage transboundary water conflicts.
Then in September 2024, India formally called for a review of the Indus Waters Treaty, citing demographic shifts, energy needs and security concerns over Kashmir.
The treaty now exists in a state of limbo. While it technically remains in force, India’s formal notice for review has introduced uncertainty, halting key cooperative mechanisms and casting doubt on the treaty’s long-term durability.
An equitable and sustainable treaty?
Moving forward, I argue, any reform or renegotiation of the Indus Waters Treaty will, if it is to have lasting success, need to acknowledge the hydrological significance of Kashmir while engaging voices from across the region.
Excluding Kashmir from future discussions – and neither India nor Pakistan has formally proposed including Kashmiri stakeholders – would only reinforce a long-standing pattern of marginalization, where decisions about its resources are made without considering the needs of its people.
As debates on “climate-proofing” the treaty continue, ensuring Kashmiri perspectives are included will be critical for building a more equitable and sustainable transboundary water framework.
Nicholas Breyfogle, Madhumita Dutta, Alexander Thompson, and Bryan G. Mark at the Indus Basin Water Project at the Ohio State University contributed to this article.
Fazlul Haq does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
If you or someone you love finds it difficult to stand up from the toilet without using your hands, it might seem like a small issue. But in health and ageing, this movement – known as the “sit-to-stand” – can be a red flag. It’s one of the strongest indicators of frailty, a condition that can threaten independence and quality of life.
Frailty increases the risk of falls, hospital stays, slower recovery from illness, and early death. It’s more than just about being thin or weak – it’s about reduced muscle mass, strength and energy – and it’s one of the main reasons older adults lose the ability to live on their own.
This loss of muscle strength and function isn’t just about growing old. It often begins as early as your 30s and accelerates after 60. The good news? It’s not inevitable. Frailty can be prevented – and even reversed – with simple, targeted changes in diet and physical activity.
Surprisingly, carrying a bit of extra weight in older age can be beneficial. Studies suggest that being in the “overweight” BMI range is often linked to better outcomes than being underweight – as long as you’re carrying muscle, not just fat.
What matters most is body composition – the ratio of muscle to fat. Lean muscle supports mobility, balance and resilience during illness or injury. In contrast, excess visceral fat (around the internal organs) increases the risk of disease.
Muscle is made of protein and, as we age, our bodies become less efficient at using it. That means older adults need to eat more protein than younger people – not less. Aim for 1 to 1.2 grams of protein per kilogram of body weight per day. For a 70kg person, that’s around 70–85 grams daily, ideally spread across all meals.
Good protein sources include:
• Eggs, milk, cheese and yoghurt
• Chicken, turkey, beef and oily fish
• Lentils, beans, tofu and soy products
• Nuts, seeds, and whole grains
Also, don’t forget total calorie intake. If you’re undereating overall – especially during illness – your body will break down muscle to compensate, even if protein intake is adequate.
Move it or lose it
Muscle only stays if you use it – the “move it or lose it” mantra applies here. Regular strength training is one of the best things you can do to stay independent and strong.
Aim for two to three sessions per week focused on strength. You don’t need a gym – bodyweight exercises at home count too.
Effective strength activities include:
• Sit-to-stand repetitions from a chair
• Functional movements like stair climbing, gardening, or carrying groceries
• Squats, lunges and push-ups
• Using resistance bands or light weights
Walking, swimming and cycling are great for cardiovascular and joint health, but they aren’t enough on their own to maintain muscle mass. Challenge your muscles regularly – even in small ways.
Things to watch out for:
• Struggling to stand up from low chairs or the toilet
• Clothes feeling looser around the thighs or arms
• Feeling weaker carrying bags or household items
• Avoiding stairs or certain movements you used to do easily
Catching these signs early can help you act before it affects your independence.
Here are five things you can do for healthy ageing
Prioritise protein: include it in every meal. Think eggs for breakfast, beans at lunch, and fish or chicken for dinner.
Strength train weekly: find something you enjoy and can stick with – gardening, resistance bands, or a local class.
Don’t fear healthy weight gain: especially if you’ve recently lost weight unintentionally. Focus on building muscle, not fat.
Stay active daily: every movement counts – walking, stretching, or lifting household objects.
Monitor your function: the sit-to-stand test is a simple way to track your strength. If it’s getting harder, take action.
We can’t stop ageing, but we can age well. That means making muscle health a priority – not just for appearance, but for independence, dignity and quality of life.
So, whether you’re thinking about your future or supporting an older loved one, remember this: building and maintaining muscle is one of the most powerful tools we have for healthy ageing.
With the right habits, you can protect your strength, mobility and independence.
And next time you sit down – think about how easily you get back up. That small action might be the most important health check you do all day.
Catherine Norton receives funding organisations e.g. Food for Health Ireland, DAFM, Enterprise Ireland
After a second consecutive night of deadly Russian air attacks – against the capital Kyiv on April 23 and the eastern Ukrainian city of Pavlohrad on April 24 – a ceasefire in Ukraine seems as unrealistic as ever.
With Russian commitment to a deal clearly lacking, the situation is not helped by US president Donald Trump. He can’t quite seem to decide who he will ultimately blame if his efforts to agree a ceasefire fall apart.
Before the strikes on Kyiv, Trump blamed Ukrainian president, Volodymyr Zelensky, for holding up a deal by refusing to recognise Crimea as Russian. The following day, he chided Vladimir Putin for the attacks, calling them “not necessary, and very bad timing” and imploring Putin to stop.
The main stumbling bloc on the path to a ceasefire is what a final peace agreement might look like and what concessions Kyiv – and its European allies – will accept. Ukraine’s and Europe’s position on this is unequivocal: no recognition of the illegal Russian annexation.
This position is also backed by opinion polls in Ukraine, which indicate only limited support for some, temporary concessions to Russia. The mayor of Kyiv, Vitali Klitschko, also suggested that temporarily giving up territory “can be a solution”.
The deal that Trump’s envoy Steve Witkoff apparently negotiated over three rounds of talks in Russia was roundly rejected by Ukraine and Britain, France and Germany, who lead the “coalition of the willing” of countries pledging support for Ukraine.
This prompted Witkoff and US secretary of state Marco Rubio to pull out of follow-up talks in London on April 24. These ended with a fairly vacuous statement about a commitment to continuing “close coordination and … further talks soon”.
And even this now appears as quite a stretch. Coinciding with Witkoff’s fourth trip to see Putin on April 25, European and Ukrainian counterproposals were released that reject most of the terms offered by Trump or at least defer their negotiation until after a ceasefire is in place.
Why is it failing?
The impasse is unsurprising. Washington’s proposal included a US commitment to recognise Crimea as Russian, a promise that Ukraine would not join Nato and accept Moscow’s control of the territories in eastern Ukraine that it currently illegally occupies. It also included lifting all sanctions against Russia.
In other words, Ukraine would give up large parts of territory and receive no security guarantees, while Russia is rewarded with reintegration into the global economy.
It is the territorial concessions asked of Kyiv which are especially problematic. Quite apart from the fact that they are in fundamental breach of basic principles of international law – the sovereignty and territorial integrity of states – they are unlikely to provide solid foundations for a durable peace.
Much like the idea of Trump’s Ukraine envoy, Keith Kellogg, to divide Ukraine like post-1945 Berlin, it betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of what, and who, drives this war.
Recent London peace talks in April failed to make progress.
Both proposals accept the permanent loss to Ukraine of territory that Russia currently controls. Where they differ is that Kellogg wants to introduce a European-led reassurance force west of the river Dnipro, while leaving the defence of remaining Ukrainian-controlled territory to Kyiv’s armed forces.
If accepted by Russia – unlikely as this is given Russia’s repeated and unequivocal rejection of European peacekeeping troops in Ukraine – it would provide at best a minimal security guarantee for a part of Ukrainian territory.
What it would almost inevitably mean, however, is a repeat of the permanent ceasefire violations along the disengagement zone in eastern Ukraine where Russian and Ukrainian forces would continue to face each other.
This is what happened after the ill-fated Minsk accords of 2014 and 2015, which were meant to settle the conflict after Russia’s invasion of Donbas in 2014. A further Russian invasion could be just around the corner once the Kremlin felt that it had sufficiently recovered from the current war.
The lack of a credible deterrent is one key difference between the situation in Ukraine as envisaged by Washington and other historical and contemporary parallels, including Korea and Cyprus.
Korea was partitioned in 1945 and has been protected by a large US military presence since the Korean war in 1953. After the Turkish invasion of 1974, Cyprus was divided between Greek and Turkish Cypriots along a partition line secured by an armed UN peacekeeping mission.
Trump has ruled out any US troop commitment as part of securing a ceasefire in Ukraine. And the idea of a UN force in Ukraine, briefly floated during the presidency of Petro Poroshenko between 2014 and 2019, never got any traction, and is not likely to be accepted by Putin now.
The assumed parallels with the situation in Germany after the second world war are even more tenuous. Not only did Nazi Germany unconditionally surrender in May 1945 but its division into allied zones of occupation was formally and unanimously agreed by the victorious allies in Potsdam in August 1945.
Muddling up Potsdam and Munich?
By the time two separate German states of East and West Germany were established in 1949, the western allies had fallen out with Stalin but remained firmly united in Nato and western Europe. So the west German state was firmly protected under the US nuclear umbrella.
The agreements made in Potsdam didn’t have the same implication of permanence as the US suggestion to formally recognise Crimea as Russian territory. The suggestion was always that the allied forces would pull out of Germany at some stage, and restore the country’s sovereignty.
Most importantly, the allies did not reward the aggressor in the war or create the conditions for merely a brief interruption for an aggressor’s revisionist agenda.
After all, what has driven Putin’s war against Ukraine is his conviction that “the collapse of the Soviet Union was the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century”.
The Trump administration deludes itself that it is applying the lessons of Potsdam by recognising Russia’s territorial conquests in Ukraine and handing them over. Instead it is falling into the trap of the 1938 Munich Agreement. Negotiators in Munich tried, but failed, to avoid the second world war by appeasing and not deterring an insatiable aggressor – a historical lesson that doesn’t need repeating.
Stefan Wolff is a past recipient of grant funding from the Natural Environment Research Council of the UK, the United States Institute of Peace, the Economic and Social Research Council of the UK, the British Academy, the NATO Science for Peace Programme, the EU Framework Programmes 6 and 7 and Horizon 2020, as well as the EU’s Jean Monnet Programme. He is a Trustee and Honorary Treasurer of the Political Studies Association of the UK and a Senior Research Fellow at the Foreign Policy Centre in London.
Tetyana Malyarenko does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Donald Trump speaks in front of a wax statue of John Wayne at the John Wayne Museum in Winterset, Iowa, during the 2016 GOP primaries.Al Drago/CQ Roll Call via Getty Images
Donald Trump first came up with his plan for a “National Garden of American Heroes” at the end of his first term, before President Joe Biden quietly tabled it upon replacing Trump in the White House.
Now, with Trump back in the Oval Office – and with the country’s 250th anniversary fast approaching – the project is back. The National Endowment for the Humanities is seeking to commission 250 statues of famous Americans from a predetermined list, to be displayed at a location yet to be determined.
Donald Trump announces some famous Black Americans he plans to include in his ‘National Garden of American Heroes’ during a Black History Month event on Feb. 20, 2025, at the White House.
The statue garden coincides with an executive order from March 2025 in which the Trump administration denounced what it saw as historical revisionism that had recast the country’s “unparalleled legacy of advancing liberty, individual rights, and human happiness.” Instead, it had constructed a story of the nation that portrayed it “as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or otherwise irredeemably flawed,” which “fosters a sense of national shame.”
“We don’t need to overemphasize the negative,” explained Lindsey Halligan, a 35-year-old insurance lawyer who is named in the order as one of the people tasked with reforming museums that receive government funds.
Trump often casts himself as a man of the people. But as historians, we don’t see a garden of heroes as a populist effort. To us, it represents a top-down approach to U.S. history, akin to the hagiography that Americans already regularly get from movies, television and professional sports.
And it comes at a cost: It’s going to be paid for with funds that had been previously allotted to tell stories about people and places that may be less familiar than the proposed figures for Trump’s garden. But they’re nonetheless meaningful to countless communities across the nation.
Only the movers and shakers matter
Trump’s fixation on America’s luminaries is adjacent to the “great man” theory of history.
In 1840, Scottish philosopher and historian Thomas Carlyle published “On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History,” in which he argued that “The History of the world is but the Biography of great men.”
American biologist and eugenicist Frederick Adams Woods embraced the great man theory in his 1913 work, “The Influence of Monarchs: Steps in a New Science of History.” In it, he investigated 386 rulers in Western Europe from the 12th century until the French Revolution. He proposed a scientific measurement to quantify the relative impact these rulers had on the course of civilization.
Trump’s garden of heroes reflects his penchant for celebrating wealth, champions and successes, akin to what Walt Disney tried to capture with his Disney World ride Carousel of Progress, which highlights American technological advances.
A national redundancy?
However, the U.S. already has a national statuary hall, which opened in the U.S. Capitol in 1870. Each state has contributed two statues; for example, Massachusetts honors Samuel Adams and John Winthrop, while Ohio celebrates James Garfield and Thomas Edison.
Importantly, the roster is fluid – not set in stone – and reflects debates over whom the nation ought to celebrate.
Over time, the representation has become slightly more inclusive. The first woman, Illinois educator Frances Willard, was added in 1905. Only in 2022 did a Black American appear, when educator Mary Bethune replaced a Confederate general from Florida. And in 2024, Johnny Cash replaced James Paul Clarke, a former governor and senator from Arkansas with Confederate sympathies.
Family members and elected officials attend the unveiling of the statue of Johnny Cash at the U.S. Capitol on Sept. 24, 2024. Kent Nishimura/Getty Images
What about everyday Americans?
We don’t think there’s anything wrong with celebrating and honoring popular figures in American history. But we do think there’s an issue when it comes at the expense of other historical and archival projects.
Many of the grants that have been slashed explore, celebrate and preserve history in ways that stand in stark contrast to a statue garden. They involve, as Gal Beckerman writes in the Atlantic, efforts that “are about asking questions, about uncovering hidden or overlooked experiences, about closely examining texts or adding to the public record.”
These and countless similar history projects serve millions of people far from Washington, and they have broad support from lawmakers and citizens of all political stripes.
In 1938, as forces of fascism gathered in Europe, a Connecticut high school social science teacher said, “The greatest need of America, on the threshold of the greatest epoch of its history, is citizens who understand the past out of which the nation has grown. … Let us look into the souls of the leaders and the common people who have made America great.”
In his 2016 campaign, Trump promised to work on behalf of everyday Americans – the “forgotten man and woman.” But the proposed statue garden of famous figures cuts out the common people from America’s story – not just as subjects of history, but as its stewards for future generations.
With funds slashed from organizations dedicated to local history, we wonder how many more stories will go untold.
Jennifer Tucker has received funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities for research that examines the social and cultural role of modern technology, such as facial recognition, through a historical lens.
Peter Rutland does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Lithium-ion batteries are quietly powering large parts of the world, including electric vehicles and smartphones. They have revolutionized how people store and use energy. But as these batteries become more central to daily life, they bring more attention to the challenges of managing them and the energy they store safely, efficiently and intelligently.
I’m a mechanical engineer who studies these nearly ubiquitous batteries. They have been around for decades, yet researchers like me are still trying to fully understand how these batteries behave – especially when they are working hard.
Batteries may seem simple, but they are as complicated as the real-world uses people devise for them.
The big picture
At their core, lithium-ion batteries rely on the movement of charged particles, called ions, of the element lithium between two electric poles, or electrodes. The lithium ions move from the positive electrode to the negative one through a conductive substance called an electrolyte, which can be a solid or a liquid.
The basics of how a lithium-ion battery works.
How much energy these batteries store and how well they work depends on a tangle of factors, including the temperature, physical structure of the battery and how the materials age over time.
Around the world, researchers are trying to answer questions about each of these factors individually and in concert with each other. Some research focuses on improving lifespan and calculating how batteries degrade over time. Other projects are tackling safety under extreme conditions, such as fast-charging use in extreme climates – either hot or cold. Many are exploring entirely new materials that could make batteries cheaper, longer-lasting or safer. And a significant group – including me – are working with computer simulations to improve real-time battery monitoring.
Real‑time monitoring in your electric vehicle’s battery system functions like a health check: It tracks voltage, current and temperature to estimate how much energy remains so you won’t be stranded with a dead battery.
But it’s difficult to precisely measure how well each of the energy cells within the battery is performing as they age or as the weather changes from cold in winter to hotter in summer. So the battery management system uses a computer simulation to estimate those factors. When combined with real-time monitoring, the system can prevent overusing the battery, balance charging speed with long-term health, avoid power failures and keep performance high. But there are a lot of variables.
The traffic analogy
One of the best ways to understand this challenge is to think about city traffic.
Let’s say you want to drive across town and need to determine whether your car has enough charge to travel the best route. If your navigation simulator accounted for every stoplight, every construction zone and every vehicle on the road, it would give you a very accurate answer. But it might take an hour to run, by which time the circumstances would have changed and the answer would likely be wrong. That’s not helpful if you’re trying to make a decision right now.
A simpler model might assume that every road is clear and every car is moving at the speed limit. That simulation delivers a result instantly – but its results are very inaccurate when traffic is heavy or a road is closed. It doesn’t capture the reality of rush hour.
While you’re driving, the battery management system would do a similar set of calculations to see how much charge is available for the rest of the trip. It would look at the battery’s temperature, how old it is and how much energy the car is asking for, like when going up a steep hill or accelerating quickly to keep up with other cars. But like the navigation simulations, it has to strike a balance between being extremely accurate and giving you useful information before your battery runs out in the middle of your trip.
The most accurate models, which simulate every chemical reaction inside the battery, are too slow for real-time use. The faster models simplify things so much that they miss key behaviors – especially under stress, such as fast charging or sudden bursts of energy use.
Managing the flow of electrons to and from a battery is as complicated as managing the flow of traffic on local streets. AP Photo/Julio Cortez
How researchers are bridging the gap
This trade-off between speed and accuracy is at the heart of battery modeling research today. Scientists and engineers are exploring many ways to solve it.
Some are rewriting modeling software to make the physics calculations more efficient, reducing complexity without losing the key details. Others, like me, are turning to machine learning – training computers to recognize patterns in data and make fast, accurate predictions without having to solve every underlying equation.
In my recent work, I used a high-accuracy battery simulator – one of the ones that’s really accurate but very slow – to generate a massive amount of data about how a battery functions when charging and discharging. I used that data to train a machine learning algorithm called XGBoost, which is particularly good at finding patterns in data.
Then I used software to pair the XGBoost system with a simple, fast-running battery model that captures the basic physics but can miss finer details. The simpler model puts out an initial set of results, and the XGBoost element fine-tunes those to make corrections on the fly, especially when the battery is under strain.
The result is a hybrid model that is able to respond both quickly and accurately to changes in driving conditions. A driver who floors the accelerator with just the simple model wouldn’t get enough energy; a more detailed model would give the right amount of energy only after it finished all its calculations. My hybrid model delivers a rapid boost of energy without delays.
Battery storage pods like these in Arizona can store electricity between when it is generated and when it is needed. AP Photo/Ross D. Franklin
What’s next
Battery research is moving quickly, and the field is already seeing signs of change. Models are becoming more reliable across a wider range of conditions. Engineers are using real-time monitoring to extend battery life, prevent overheating and improve energy efficiency. Machine learning lets researchers train battery management systems to optimize performance for specific applications, such as high power demands in electric vehicles, daily cycles of home electricity use, short power bursts for drones, or long-duration requirements for building-scale battery systems.
Some teams are taking hybrid models and compiling their software into lightweight code that runs on microcontrollers inside battery hardware. In practice, that means each battery pack carries its own brain on-board, calculating state-of-charge, estimating aging and tracking thermal or mechanical stress in near-real time. By embedding the model in the device’s electronics, the pack can autonomously adjust its charging and discharging strategy on the fly, making every battery smarter, safer and more efficient.
The detection of life beyond Earth would be one of the most profound discoveries in the history of science. The Milky Way galaxy alone hosts hundreds of millions of potentially habitable planets. Astronomers are using powerful space telescopes to look for molecular indicators of biology in the atmospheres of the most Earth-like of these planets.
But so far, no solid evidence of life has ever been found beyond the Earth. A paper published in April 2025 claimed to detect a signature of life in the atmosphere of the planet K2-18b. And while this discovery is intriguing, most astronomers – including the paper’s authors – aren’t ready to claim that it means extraterrestrial life exists. A detection of life would be a remarkable development.
The astronomer Carl Sagan used the phrase, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,” in regard to searching for alien life. It conveys the idea that there should be a high bar for evidence to support a remarkable claim.
I’m an astronomer who has written a book about astrobiology. Over my career, I’ve seen some compelling scientific discoveries. But to reach this threshold of finding life beyond Earth, a result needs to fit several important criteria.
When is a result important and reliable?
There are three criteria for a scientific result to represent a true discovery and not be subject to uncertainty and doubt. How does the claim of life on K2-18b measure up?
First, the experiment needs to measure a meaningful and important quantity. Researchers observed K2-18b’s atmosphere with the James Webb Space Telescope and saw a spectral feature that they identified as dimethyl sulfide.
On Earth, dimethyl sulfide is associated with biology, in particular bacteria and plankton in the oceans. However, it can also arise by other means, so this single molecule is not conclusive proof of life.
Second, the detection needs to be strong. Every detector has some noise from the random motion of electrons. The signal should be strong enough to have a low probability of arising by chance from this noise.
The K2-18b detection has a significance of 3-sigma, which means it has a 0.3% probability of arising by chance.
That sounds low, but most scientists would consider that a weak detection. There are many molecules that could create a feature in the same spectral range.
The “gold standard” for scientific detection is 5-sigma, which means the probability of the finding happening by chance is less than 0.00006%. For example, physicists at CERN gathered data patiently for two years until they had a 5-sigma detection of the Higgs boson particle, leading to a Nobel Prize one year later in 2013.
The announcement of the discovery of the Higgs boson took decades from the time Peter Higgs first predicted the existence of the particle. Scientists, such as Joe Incandela shown here, waited until they’d reached that 5-sigma level to say, ‘I think we have it.’
Third, a result needs to be repeatable. Results are considered reliable when they’ve been repeated – ideally corroborated by other investigators or confirmed using a different instrument. For K2-18b, this might mean detecting other molecules that indicate biology, such as oxygen in the planet’s atmosphere. Without more and better data, most researchers are viewing the claim of life on K2-18b with skepticism.
Claims of life on Mars
In the past, some scientists have claimed to have found life much closer to home, on the planet Mars.
Over a century ago, retired Boston merchant turned astronomer Percival Lowell claimed that linear features he saw on the surface of Mars were canals, constructed by a dying civilization to transport water from the poles to the equator. Artificial waterways on Mars would certainly have been a major discovery, but this example failed the other two criteria: strong evidence and repeatability.
In 1996, NASA held a press conference where a team of scientists presented evidence for biology in the Martian meteorite ALH 84001. Their evidence included an evocative image that seemed to show microfossils in the meteorite.
However, scientists have come up with explanations for the meteorite’s unusual features that do not involve biology. That extraordinary claim has dissipated.
More recently, astronomers detected low levels of methane in the atmosphere of Mars. Like dimethyl sulfide and oxygen, methane on Earth is made primarily – but not exclusively – by life. Different spacecraft and rovers on the Martian surface have returned conflicting results, where a detection with one spacecraft was not confirmed by another.
The low level and variability of methane on Mars is still a mystery. And in the absence of definitive evidence that this very low level of methane has a biological origin, nobody is claiming definitive evidence of life on Mars.
Claims of advanced civilizations
Detecting microbial life on Mars or an exoplanet would be dramatic, but the discovery of extraterrestrial civilizations would be truly spectacular.
The search for extraterrestrial intelligence, or SETI, has been underway for 75 years. No messages have ever been received, but in 1977 a radio telescope in Ohio detected a strong signal that lasted only for a minute.
This signal was so unusual that an astronomer working at the telescope wrote “Wow!” on the printout, giving the signal its name. Unfortunately, nothing like it has since been detected from that region of the sky, so the Wow! Signal fails the test of repeatability.
In 2017, a rocky, cigar-shaped object called ‘Oumuamua was the first known interstellar object to visit the solar system. ‘Oumuamua’s strange shape and trajectory led Harvard astronomer Avi Loeb to argue that it was an alien artifact. However, the object has already left the solar system, so there’s no chance for astronomers to observe it again. And some researchers have gathered evidence suggesting that it’s just a comet.
While many scientists think we aren’t alone, given the enormous amount of habitable real estate beyond Earth, no detection has cleared the threshold enunciated by Carl Sagan.
Claims about the universe
These same criteria apply to research about the entire universe. One particular concern in cosmology is the fact that, unlike the case of planets, there is only one universe to study.
A cautionary tale comes from attempts to show that the universe went through a period of extremely rapid expansion a fraction of a second after the Big Bang. Cosmologists call this event inflation, and it is invoked to explain why the universe is now smooth and flat.
In 2014, astronomers claimed to have found evidence for inflation in a subtle signal from microwaves left over after the Big Bang. Within a year, however, the team retracted the result because the signal had a mundane explanation: They had confused dust in our galaxy with a signature of inflation.
On the other hand, the discovery of the universe’s acceleration shows the success of the scientific method. In 1929, astronomer Edwin Hubble found that the universe was expanding. Then, in 1998, evidence emerged that this cosmic expansion is accelerating. Physicists were startled by this result.
Two research groups used supernovae to separately trace the expansion. In a friendly rivalry, they used different sets of supernovae but got the same result. Independent corroboration increased their confidence that the universe was accelerating. They called the force behind this accelerating expansion dark energy and received a Nobel Prize in 2011 for its discovery.
On scales large and small, astronomers try to set a high bar of evidence before claiming a discovery.
Chris Impey receives funding from the Natonal Science Foundation and the Howard Hughes Medical Institute.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Cora Fox, Associate Professor of English and Health Humanities, Arizona State University
Joanna Vanderham as Desdemona and Hugh Quarshie as the title character in a Royal Shakespeare Company production of ‘Othello.’Robbie Jack/Corbis via Getty Images
What is “happiness” – and who gets to be happy?
Since 2012, the World Happiness Report has measured and compared data from 167 countries. The United States currently ranks 24th, between the U.K. and Belize – its lowest position since the report was first issued. But the 2025 edition – released on March 20, the United Nations’ annual “International Day of Happiness” – starts off not with numbers, but with Shakespeare.
“In this year’s issue, we focus on the impact of caring and sharing on people’s happiness,” the authors explain. “Like ‘mercy’ in Shakespeare’s ‘Merchant of Venice,’ caring is ‘twice-blessed’ – it blesses those who give and those who receive.”
Shakespeare’s plays offer many reflections on happiness itself. They are a record of how people in early modern England experienced and thought about joy and satisfaction, and they offer a complex look at just how happiness, like mercy, lives in relationships and the caring exchanges between people.
Contrary to how we might think about happiness in our everyday lives, it is more than the surge of positive feelings after a great meal, or a workout, or even a great date. The experience of emotions is grounded in both the bodyand the mind, influenced by human physiology and culture in ways that change depending on time and place. What makes a person happy, therefore, depends on who that person is, as well as where and when they belong – or don’t belong.
Happiness has a history. I study emotions and early modern literature, so I spend a lot of my time thinking about what Shakespeare has to say about what makes people happy, in his own time and in our own. And also, of course, what makes people unhappy.
But in modern English usage, “happy” as “fortunate” has been almost entirely replaced by a notion of happiness as “joy,” or the more long-term sense of life satisfaction called “well-being.” The term “well-being,” in fact, was introduced into English from the Italian “benessere” around the time of Shakespeare’s birth.
The word and the concept of happiness were transforming during Shakespeare’s lifetime, and his use of the word in his plays mingles both senses: “fortunate” and “joyful.” That transitional ambiguity emphasizes happiness’ origins in ideas about luck and fate, and it reminds readers and playgoers that happiness is a contingent, fragile thing – something not just individuals, but societies need to carefully cultivate and support.
For instance, early in “Othello,” the Venetian senator Brabantio describes his daughter Desdemona as “tender, fair, and happy / So opposite to marriage that she shunned / The wealthy, curled darlings of our nation.” Before she elopes with Othello she is “happy” in the sense of “fortunate,” due to her privileged position on the marriage market.
Later in the same play, though, Othello reunites with his new wife in Cyprus and describes his feelings of joy using this same term:
…If it were now to die,
‘Twere now to be most happy, for I fear
My soul hath her content so absolute
That not another comfort like to this
Succeeds in unknown fate.
Desdemona responds,
The heavens forbid
But that our loves and comforts should increase
Even as our days do grow!
They both understand “happy” to mean not just lucky, but “content” and “comfortable,” a more modern understanding. But they also recognize that their comforts depend on “the heavens,” and that happiness is enabled by being fortunate.
“Othello” is a tragedy, so in the end, the couple will not prove “happy” in either sense. The foreign general is tricked into believing his young wife has been unfaithful. He murders her, then takes his own life.
The seeds of jealousy are planted and expertly exploited by Othello’s subordinate, Iago, who catalyzes the racial prejudice and misogyny underlying Venetian values to enact his sinister and cruel revenge.
“Othello” sheds light on happiness’s history – but also on its politics.
While happiness is often upheld as a common good, it is also dependent on cultural forces that make it harder for some individuals to experience. Shared cultural fantasies about happiness tend to create what theorist Sara Ahmed calls “affect aliens”: individuals who, by nature of who they are and how they are treated, experience a disconnect between what their culture conditions them to think should make them happy and their disappointment or exclusion from those positive feelings. Othello, for example, rightly worries that he is somehow foreign to the domestic happiness Desdemona describes, excluded from the joy of Venetian marriage. It turns out he is right.
Because Othello is foreign and Black and Desdemona is Venetian and white, their marriage does not conform to their society’s expectations for happiness, and that makes them vulnerable to Iago’s deceit.
Similarly, “The Merchant of Venice” examines the potential for happiness to include or exclude, to build or break communities. Take the quote about mercy that opens the World Happiness Report.
The phrase appears in a famous courtroom scene, as Portia attempts to persuade a Jewish lender, Shylock, to take pity on Antonio, a Christian man who cannot pay his debts. In their contract, Shylock has stipulated that if Antonio defaults on the loan, the fee will be a “pound of flesh.”
“The quality of mercy is not strained,” Portia lectures him; it is “twice-blessed,” benefiting both giver and receiver.
It’s a powerful attempt to save Antonio’s life. But it is also hypocritical: Those cultural norms of caring and mercy seem to apply only to other Christians in the play, and not the Jewish people living alongside them in Venice. In that same scene, Shylock reminds his audience that Antonio and the other Venetians in the room have spit on him and called him a dog. He famously asks why Jewish Venetians are not treated as equal human beings: “If you prick us, do we not bleed?”
Shakespeare’s plays repeatedly make the point that the unjust distribution of rights and care among various social groups – Christians and Jews, men and women, citizens and foreigners – challenges the happy effects of benevolence.
Those social factors are sometimes overlooked in cultures like the U.S., where contemporary notions of happiness are marketed by wellness gurus, influencers and cosmetic companies. Shakespeare’s plays reveal both how happiness is built through communities of care and how it can be weaponized to destroy individuals and the fabric of the community.
There are obvious victims of prejudice and abuse in Shakespeare’s plays, but he does not just emphasize their individual tragedies. Instead, the plays record how certain values that promote inequality poison relationships that could otherwise support happy networks of family and friends.
Systems of support
Pretty much all objective research points to the fact that long-term happiness depends on community, connections and social support: having systems in place to weather what life throws at us.
And according to both the World Happiness Report and Shakespeare, contentment isn’t just about the actual support you receive but your expectations about people’s willingness to help you. Societies with high levels of trust, like Finland and the Netherlands, tend to be happier – and to have more evenly distributed levels of happiness in their populations.
Shakespeare’s plays offer blueprints for trust in happy communities. They also offer warnings about the costs of cultural fantasies about happiness that make it more possible for some, but not for all.
Cora Fox has received funding from an NEH grant for activities not directly related to this research.
Donald Trump speaks in front of a wax statue of John Wayne at the John Wayne Museum in Winterset, Iowa, during the 2016 GOP primaries.Al Drago/CQ Roll Call via Getty Images
Donald Trump first came up with his plan for a “National Garden of American Heroes” at the end of his first term, before President Joe Biden quietly tabled it upon replacing Trump in the White House.
Now, with Trump back in the Oval Office – and with the country’s 250th anniversary fast approaching – the project is back. The National Endowment for the Humanities is seeking to commission 250 statues of famous Americans from a predetermined list, to be displayed at a location yet to be determined.
Donald Trump announces some famous Black Americans he plans to include in his ‘National Garden of American Heroes’ during a Black History Month event on Feb. 20, 2025, at the White House.
The statue garden coincides with an executive order from March 2025 in which the Trump administration denounced what it saw as historical revisionism that had recast the country’s “unparalleled legacy of advancing liberty, individual rights, and human happiness.” Instead, it had constructed a story of the nation that portrayed it “as inherently racist, sexist, oppressive, or otherwise irredeemably flawed,” which “fosters a sense of national shame.”
“We don’t need to overemphasize the negative,” explained Lindsey Halligan, a 35-year-old insurance lawyer who is named in the order as one of the people tasked with reforming museums that receive government funds.
Trump often casts himself as a man of the people. But as historians, we don’t see a garden of heroes as a populist effort. To us, it represents a top-down approach to U.S. history, akin to the hagiography that Americans already regularly get from movies, television and professional sports.
And it comes at a cost: It’s going to be paid for with funds that had been previously allotted to tell stories about people and places that may be less familiar than the proposed figures for Trump’s garden. But they’re nonetheless meaningful to countless communities across the nation.
Only the movers and shakers matter
Trump’s fixation on America’s luminaries is adjacent to the “great man” theory of history.
In 1840, Scottish philosopher and historian Thomas Carlyle published “On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History,” in which he argued that “The History of the world is but the Biography of great men.”
American biologist and eugenicist Frederick Adams Woods embraced the great man theory in his 1913 work, “The Influence of Monarchs: Steps in a New Science of History.” In it, he investigated 386 rulers in Western Europe from the 12th century until the French Revolution. He proposed a scientific measurement to quantify the relative impact these rulers had on the course of civilization.
Trump’s garden of heroes reflects his penchant for celebrating wealth, champions and successes, akin to what Walt Disney tried to capture with his Disney World ride Carousel of Progress, which highlights American technological advances.
A national redundancy?
However, the U.S. already has a national statuary hall, which opened in the U.S. Capitol in 1870. Each state has contributed two statues; for example, Massachusetts honors Samuel Adams and John Winthrop, while Ohio celebrates James Garfield and Thomas Edison.
Importantly, the roster is fluid – not set in stone – and reflects debates over whom the nation ought to celebrate.
Over time, the representation has become slightly more inclusive. The first woman, Illinois educator Frances Willard, was added in 1905. Only in 2022 did a Black American appear, when educator Mary Bethune replaced a Confederate general from Florida. And in 2024, Johnny Cash replaced James Paul Clarke, a former governor and senator from Arkansas with Confederate sympathies.
Family members and elected officials attend the unveiling of the statue of Johnny Cash at the U.S. Capitol on Sept. 24, 2024. Kent Nishimura/Getty Images
What about everyday Americans?
We don’t think there’s anything wrong with celebrating and honoring popular figures in American history. But we do think there’s an issue when it comes at the expense of other historical and archival projects.
Many of the grants that have been slashed explore, celebrate and preserve history in ways that stand in stark contrast to a statue garden. They involve, as Gal Beckerman writes in the Atlantic, efforts that “are about asking questions, about uncovering hidden or overlooked experiences, about closely examining texts or adding to the public record.”
These and countless similar history projects serve millions of people far from Washington, and they have broad support from lawmakers and citizens of all political stripes.
In 1938, as forces of fascism gathered in Europe, a Connecticut high school social science teacher said, “The greatest need of America, on the threshold of the greatest epoch of its history, is citizens who understand the past out of which the nation has grown. … Let us look into the souls of the leaders and the common people who have made America great.”
In his 2016 campaign, Trump promised to work on behalf of everyday Americans – the “forgotten man and woman.” But the proposed statue garden of famous figures cuts out the common people from America’s story – not just as subjects of history, but as its stewards for future generations.
With funds slashed from organizations dedicated to local history, we wonder how many more stories will go untold.
Jennifer Tucker has received funding from the National Endowment for the Humanities for research that examines the social and cultural role of modern technology, such as facial recognition, through a historical lens.
Peter Rutland does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
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