Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Reuben Rose-Redwood, Professor of Geography and Associate Dean Academic, Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Victoria
On March 25, 2025, a Turkish PhD student at Tufts University, Rümeysa Öztürk, was walking in a Boston suburb when she was detained by plain-clothed federal agents. A video of the encounter went viral, sparking fear and outrage in the United States and beyond.
Since March, a growing number of international students in the U.S. have had their visas revoked or their legal status terminated for everything from engaging in political activism to minor infractions such as traffic tickets.
The tightening of restrictions is part of a broader effort by President Donald Trump’s administration to impose its political will on colleges and universities. These governmental interventions have caused deep concern about the future of higher education, democracy, scientific research and the rule of law in the U.S.
Many of the revoked student visas were restored in late April as a result of nearly 100 federal lawsuits. But the Trump administration continues to target international students for deportation.
Boston Globe video: Tufts student Rümeysa Öztürk detained by immigration authorities.
Other international students, scholars and permanent residents have also been detained for participating in pro-Palestinian protests on university campuses.
Just before the Gaza campus encampment movement arose in April 2024, we published an edited book, International Student Activism and the Politics of Higher Education. Our book brought together interdisciplinary scholars to examine how international students have engaged in political activism and advocacy through case studies.
This leads us to consider what lessons the history of international student politics might hold for addressing current challenges.
Host and home country relations
Although the backlash against international student activism has captured headlines recently, there’s a long history of international students participating in political life during their studies abroad.
These political activities have ranged from protests against tuition hikes to involvement in lobbying and demonstrations related to global geopolitical issues.
The first key lesson we have learned is that the very presence of international students on university campuses is a political matter that depends on a measure of good will between the host and home countries.
For instance, when diplomatic relations between Canada and Saudi Arabia broke down in 2018 due to a dispute over alleged Saudi human rights violations, the Saudi government ordered its students to leave Canada and study elsewhere. Despite this order, thousands of Saudi students chose to stay in Canada even after Saudi authorities withdrew government scholarships to support them.
Political courage in face of risks
A second lesson is that international student activists have often demonstrated extraordinary political courage when the risks of government retaliation are high.
After the First World War, Korean nationals studying in the U.S. took inspiration from the American Revolution to advocate for an independent Korea. At the time, participation in the independence movement was punishable by death in Japanese-occupied Korea.
Following the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, Chinese students and scholars in the U.S. also protested against political repression in China at great risk of persecution if they returned to their home country.
Building political solidarity
A third important lesson is that the international student experience offers an opportunity for students to build political solidarity across national divisions.
The international solidarity movement for Palestine is a prime example.
During the 1960s, support for Palestine was widespread among international students of different nationalities in strongholds of student politics such as Paris. In recent years, international students have forged new alliances through the pro-Palestinian protest movement against the Gaza war on campuses around the world.
International students have engaged in diverse forms of “front-stage” and “back-stage” political action in different contexts.
Front-stage political activism includes participation in protests, demonstrations, occupations and other political acts that are publicly visible.
Some protests are responses to specific policy changes at colleges and universities. At the University of Victoria, where we both work, international students protested tuition increases in 2019, blockading administrative buildings and occupying the Senate chambers.
Other front-stage political actions — such as the 2024 Gaza campus protests — are part of global movements.
But front-stage protests are only half the story. They often ebb and flow throughout the school year and come with significant risks due to the precarious status of international students as visa holders.
Given the heightened risks under the Trump administration, some international students are advocating for more strategic back-stage political activism to minimize public attention.
In a recent editorial, Janhavi Munde, an international student at Wesleyan University, noted that within the current political environment, “it might be smarter and safer to create change in the background” in order to “provide more scope for impactful activism — as opposed to getting arrested the day of your first on-campus protest.”
Strengthening democratic culture
The current debate over international student activism in the U.S. raises broader questions about the very purpose of higher education in democratic societies.
When asked at a news conference why Öztürk, the Turkish student at Tufts University, was detained, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio explained that “we gave you a visa to come and study and get a degree, not to become a social activist that tears up our university campuses.”
This narrow understanding of higher education reduces the richness of the educational experience — where learning occurs both within and beyond the classroom — to a one-dimensional focus on schooling to receive a credential.
One of the main aims of higher education in democracies is to foster critical thinking and civic engagement. When international students actively participate in campus political life, this strengthens the democratic culture of higher education and society.
More than a century ago, American philosopher John Dewey observed in Democracy and Education that education is essential to striving for the democratic ideal. He argued that “democracy is more than a form of government; it is primarily a mode of associated living.” For Dewey, education could foster democracy through “the breaking down of those barriers of class, race and national territory.”
Equal dignity of all people
As geographers, we take inspiration from Russian geographer Peter Kropotkin’s classic 1885 essay where he observed that, in a:
“time of wars, of national self-conceit, of national jealousies and hatreds … geography must be — in so far as the school may do anything to counterbalance hostile influences — a means of dissipating these prejudices and of creating other feelings more worthy of humanity.”
When international students such as Öztürk urge us to “affirm the equal dignity and humanity of all people,” they are displaying political courage by embodying the ideals of freedom and democracy at a time when these founding principles of the U.S. are increasingly under threat.
Reuben Rose-Redwood has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada.
CindyAnn Rose-Redwood has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada.
Canada faces a massive shortage of physicians. According to recent reports, Canadians require about 23,000 family doctors to meet current and emerging needs.
In the absence of effective solutions, mayors and municipal councils across the country are competing with each other to entice doctors to their communities.
It seems insurmountable, but options do exist and, no doubt, multiple approaches will be needed. What’s possible?
My clinical, administrative and educational roles over the years have provided an opportunity to work within and examine the doctor “pipeline” from multiple perspectives. There’s a disconnect between that pipeline and the urgent and growing need for doctors, which was a major motivation for my book The Doctors We Need: Imagining a New Path for Physician Recruitment, Training, and Support. Based on all this, at least seven approaches seem possible. All have their pros and cons.
In Canada, doctors are in demand and enjoy an excellent standard of living. Immigration to Canada, if offered, would likely be seen as a very attractive option.
Option 2: Short-track qualification of foreign-trained physicians already in Canada
Many foreign-trained doctors have already immigrated to Canada and are working at non-medical jobs, hoping to gain residency status that would allow them to undertake examinations or complete their training.
This approach would have many of the same disadvantages as above, but at least ensures these individuals already have some familiarity with Canadian work environment and a better awareness of the expectations facing physicians.
Option 3: Repatriate Canadians who have trained (or are training) abroad
It’s generally acknowledged that there are at least as many Canadians studying medicine outside Canada as within. These are people who were unsuccessful or chose not to engage in our highly competitive admission processes that annually turn away thousands of highly qualified students. They tend to enrol in well-established medical schools in countries such as Australia, Ireland and England.
Although no rigorous analysis or statistics are available, it’s increasingly recognized that the majority remain and practise in the countries where they trained, having established relationships and support structures. In fact, many are actively recruited to take up much needed primary care positions in those countries.
Attracting them back to Canada will require a targeted recruitment strategy and expansion of available post-graduate training positions. All that being said, this is potentially a workforce already prepared and willing to address Canadian health-care needs.
Option 4: Increase the efficiency and capacity of our current physicians
All doctors, particularly family physicians, face a burden of paperwork and administrative tasks that drastically reduces their capacity to assess and treat patients. Developing innovative processes and collaborations that allow them to focus their time on direct patient care will expand their impact and reduce the number of physicians required.
Option 5: Supplement doctor roles with non-physicians
We’re already seeing this strategy play out with nurses and pharmacists providing some primary care that was previously provided only by physicians.
This approach has many merits and can allow physicians to concentrate on key essential roles, as for Option 4, above. The keys will be to ensure that the health-care teams co-ordinate and integrate their work effectively, and that all essential services are provided.
Option 6: Collaborate with high-quality medical schools outside Canada to facilitate entry and training of willing and qualified Canadian students
If we’re not able to train sufficient physicians through our own medical school structure, we could partner with foreign, well-functioning medical schools to promote access for Canadians who wish to return to Canada and engage the types of practices that are in such demand.
This would require identifying appropriate schools and developing partnerships ensuring that the admission standards, curriculum and clinical training meet Canadian standards.
Option 7: Increase medical school admissions and training in Canada
The most obvious and intuitively appealing approach would be to simply ramp up the training pipeline within Canada’s medical schools. After all, we have excellent schools and certainly no shortage of very willing and capable applicants.
There are currently 18 medical schools in Canada. Plans are in place to expand to 20 schools over the next few years, but this will not be effective unless we change the current processes of training.
The supply of family doctors provided by our current admission and training processes falls far short of our needs. Recent studies also demonstrate that graduates from our current training programs are increasingly turning away from the comprehensive and community-based practices so much in need.
Consequently, even a dramatic expansion within the current training paradigm will fall far short of addressing our needs. To be effective, expansion must occur in conjunction with new approaches to admissions and training.
The major drawback of this approach, of course, is that it will take time to even begin to address the shortfall. However, it addresses the fundamental problem most directly and establishes a framework for ongoing sustainability.
While there is no single perfect solution, there are a number of approaches, all of which have potential to relieve Canada’s medical workforce crisis. It’s time to explore and pursue them all. It’s time to develop and empower a multi-disciplinary, pan-Canadian panel to decide which mix of the options will build the reliable, sustainable physician workforce that Canada needs and deserves.
Anthony Sanfilippo 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.
“We’re freeing John A.,” Ontario Premier Doug Ford recently announced, unveiling plans to return a statue of Sir John A. Macdonald to its place of prominence overlooking the south lawn of the Ontario legislature at Queen’s Park.
The statue’s return comes five years after activists, disgusted by the first Canadian prime minister’s racist policies, sprayed pink paint over the statue’s base.
Their objections have been part of passionate debates about whether racist and harmful figures from the past should be celebrated through statues, school and state institution names and public infrastructure projects.
For these conservatives, the issue is simple. Dismantling statues is dismantling Canada’s history.
Both sides to the debate, of course, are correct in their assessments of Canada’s first prime minister. Like all historical figures from the past, Macdonald was a complex human being operating at a particular historical moment. And his actions had important historical implications for the way Canada developed.
And yet, the debate misses a deeper and much more interesting set of questions about how we understand Canadian history, how we describe Canada’s past and ultimately how Canadians tell stories about themselves to each other.
It’s important to recognize from where and in what historical contexts Canada’s statues, commemorations and public infrastructure names come. Statues of figures like Macdonald, as well as the naming of public buildings, bridges and roads in his honour, appeared principally at two separate times.
The first came in the late 19th century, mostly commemorating Macdonald’s death in 1891. But statues were being erected during this period amid rising nationalism. They signalled a celebration of Canada’s membership in the British Empire, then at the zenith of its power and influence.
The second flurry of Macdonald commemoration was in the mid-1960s, another moment of heightened nationalism and Canadian pride. It coincided with Canada’s centenary in 1967, the Montréal Expo that same year, a new Canadian flag and a newfound confidence in the world through its active participation in international peacekeeping efforts.
Canada was also at that time grappling with a deeply dissatisfied Québec and its place in Confederation, a state of affairs that eventually resulted in a divisive sovereignty referendum in 1980 that threatened the very fabric of Canada.
Respecting the dissent
But just as Canadians need to understand the historical contexts in which citizens of the past have celebrated people like Macdonald, so too do they need to grasp the historical contexts in which Canadians past and present have questioned his legacy.
In 2013, the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States sparked critical re-evaluations of statues of Civil War-era figures from the American South and the continued use in some southern states of the highly offensive Confederate flag, along with many other symbols of racism, division and hatred.
The release of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s (TRC) final report a decade ago similarly forced Canadians to confront some the darkest chapters of the country’s past.
The point often missed here is that historical markers — like the TRC Commission and the Black Lives Matter movement — themselves become artefacts of the ongoing project involving how people tell stories about themselves to themselves, what those stories say about them in the present and how they want to define themselves in the future.
A more fulsome engagement with history demands Canadians refrain from conflating the story of John A. Macdonald, the statue, with the story of John A. Macdonald, the man, any more than we’d conflate a drawing of an apple with the one on our counter.
A true examination of Macdonald
It’s not a question of who Macdonald was or wasn’t. Instead, it’s about the historical context in which the commemorations of him were installed. But it’s also part of the continuing story of how we see ourselves today.
Claims that dismantling public statues and renaming roads and schools somehow erases Canadian history are ridiculous and profoundly misunderstand how history works.
As Canada Day approaches, it’s important to remember that Macdonald’s story and legacy live on exactly where they should — in the pages of history books, museums and classrooms, where his life and times can be examined, interpreted and debated with the kind of depth and nuance that Canadian history deserves.
Eric Strikwerda 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.
Source: The Conversation – Canada – By Reuben Rose-Redwood, Professor of Geography and Associate Dean Academic, Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Victoria
On March 25, 2025, a Turkish PhD student at Tufts University, Rümeysa Öztürk, was walking in a Boston suburb when she was detained by plain-clothed federal agents. A video of the encounter went viral, sparking fear and outrage in the United States and beyond.
Since March, a growing number of international students in the U.S. have had their visas revoked or their legal status terminated for everything from engaging in political activism to minor infractions such as traffic tickets.
The tightening of restrictions is part of a broader effort by President Donald Trump’s administration to impose its political will on colleges and universities. These governmental interventions have caused deep concern about the future of higher education, democracy, scientific research and the rule of law in the U.S.
Many of the revoked student visas were restored in late April as a result of nearly 100 federal lawsuits. But the Trump administration continues to target international students for deportation.
Boston Globe video: Tufts student Rümeysa Öztürk detained by immigration authorities.
Other international students, scholars and permanent residents have also been detained for participating in pro-Palestinian protests on university campuses.
Just before the Gaza campus encampment movement arose in April 2024, we published an edited book, International Student Activism and the Politics of Higher Education. Our book brought together interdisciplinary scholars to examine how international students have engaged in political activism and advocacy through case studies.
This leads us to consider what lessons the history of international student politics might hold for addressing current challenges.
Host and home country relations
Although the backlash against international student activism has captured headlines recently, there’s a long history of international students participating in political life during their studies abroad.
These political activities have ranged from protests against tuition hikes to involvement in lobbying and demonstrations related to global geopolitical issues.
The first key lesson we have learned is that the very presence of international students on university campuses is a political matter that depends on a measure of good will between the host and home countries.
For instance, when diplomatic relations between Canada and Saudi Arabia broke down in 2018 due to a dispute over alleged Saudi human rights violations, the Saudi government ordered its students to leave Canada and study elsewhere. Despite this order, thousands of Saudi students chose to stay in Canada even after Saudi authorities withdrew government scholarships to support them.
Political courage in face of risks
A second lesson is that international student activists have often demonstrated extraordinary political courage when the risks of government retaliation are high.
After the First World War, Korean nationals studying in the U.S. took inspiration from the American Revolution to advocate for an independent Korea. At the time, participation in the independence movement was punishable by death in Japanese-occupied Korea.
Following the Tiananmen Square massacre in 1989, Chinese students and scholars in the U.S. also protested against political repression in China at great risk of persecution if they returned to their home country.
Building political solidarity
A third important lesson is that the international student experience offers an opportunity for students to build political solidarity across national divisions.
The international solidarity movement for Palestine is a prime example.
During the 1960s, support for Palestine was widespread among international students of different nationalities in strongholds of student politics such as Paris. In recent years, international students have forged new alliances through the pro-Palestinian protest movement against the Gaza war on campuses around the world.
International students have engaged in diverse forms of “front-stage” and “back-stage” political action in different contexts.
Front-stage political activism includes participation in protests, demonstrations, occupations and other political acts that are publicly visible.
Some protests are responses to specific policy changes at colleges and universities. At the University of Victoria, where we both work, international students protested tuition increases in 2019, blockading administrative buildings and occupying the Senate chambers.
Other front-stage political actions — such as the 2024 Gaza campus protests — are part of global movements.
But front-stage protests are only half the story. They often ebb and flow throughout the school year and come with significant risks due to the precarious status of international students as visa holders.
Given the heightened risks under the Trump administration, some international students are advocating for more strategic back-stage political activism to minimize public attention.
In a recent editorial, Janhavi Munde, an international student at Wesleyan University, noted that within the current political environment, “it might be smarter and safer to create change in the background” in order to “provide more scope for impactful activism — as opposed to getting arrested the day of your first on-campus protest.”
Strengthening democratic culture
The current debate over international student activism in the U.S. raises broader questions about the very purpose of higher education in democratic societies.
When asked at a news conference why Öztürk, the Turkish student at Tufts University, was detained, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio explained that “we gave you a visa to come and study and get a degree, not to become a social activist that tears up our university campuses.”
This narrow understanding of higher education reduces the richness of the educational experience — where learning occurs both within and beyond the classroom — to a one-dimensional focus on schooling to receive a credential.
One of the main aims of higher education in democracies is to foster critical thinking and civic engagement. When international students actively participate in campus political life, this strengthens the democratic culture of higher education and society.
More than a century ago, American philosopher John Dewey observed in Democracy and Education that education is essential to striving for the democratic ideal. He argued that “democracy is more than a form of government; it is primarily a mode of associated living.” For Dewey, education could foster democracy through “the breaking down of those barriers of class, race and national territory.”
Equal dignity of all people
As geographers, we take inspiration from Russian geographer Peter Kropotkin’s classic 1885 essay where he observed that, in a:
“time of wars, of national self-conceit, of national jealousies and hatreds … geography must be — in so far as the school may do anything to counterbalance hostile influences — a means of dissipating these prejudices and of creating other feelings more worthy of humanity.”
When international students such as Öztürk urge us to “affirm the equal dignity and humanity of all people,” they are displaying political courage by embodying the ideals of freedom and democracy at a time when these founding principles of the U.S. are increasingly under threat.
Reuben Rose-Redwood has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada.
CindyAnn Rose-Redwood has received funding from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council of Canada.
Canada faces a massive shortage of physicians. According to recent reports, Canadians require about 23,000 family doctors to meet current and emerging needs.
In the absence of effective solutions, mayors and municipal councils across the country are competing with each other to entice doctors to their communities.
It seems insurmountable, but options do exist and, no doubt, multiple approaches will be needed. What’s possible?
My clinical, administrative and educational roles over the years have provided an opportunity to work within and examine the doctor “pipeline” from multiple perspectives. There’s a disconnect between that pipeline and the urgent and growing need for doctors, which was a major motivation for my book The Doctors We Need: Imagining a New Path for Physician Recruitment, Training, and Support. Based on all this, at least seven approaches seem possible. All have their pros and cons.
In Canada, doctors are in demand and enjoy an excellent standard of living. Immigration to Canada, if offered, would likely be seen as a very attractive option.
Option 2: Short-track qualification of foreign-trained physicians already in Canada
Many foreign-trained doctors have already immigrated to Canada and are working at non-medical jobs, hoping to gain residency status that would allow them to undertake examinations or complete their training.
This approach would have many of the same disadvantages as above, but at least ensures these individuals already have some familiarity with Canadian work environment and a better awareness of the expectations facing physicians.
Option 3: Repatriate Canadians who have trained (or are training) abroad
It’s generally acknowledged that there are at least as many Canadians studying medicine outside Canada as within. These are people who were unsuccessful or chose not to engage in our highly competitive admission processes that annually turn away thousands of highly qualified students. They tend to enrol in well-established medical schools in countries such as Australia, Ireland and England.
Although no rigorous analysis or statistics are available, it’s increasingly recognized that the majority remain and practise in the countries where they trained, having established relationships and support structures. In fact, many are actively recruited to take up much needed primary care positions in those countries.
Attracting them back to Canada will require a targeted recruitment strategy and expansion of available post-graduate training positions. All that being said, this is potentially a workforce already prepared and willing to address Canadian health-care needs.
Option 4: Increase the efficiency and capacity of our current physicians
All doctors, particularly family physicians, face a burden of paperwork and administrative tasks that drastically reduces their capacity to assess and treat patients. Developing innovative processes and collaborations that allow them to focus their time on direct patient care will expand their impact and reduce the number of physicians required.
Option 5: Supplement doctor roles with non-physicians
We’re already seeing this strategy play out with nurses and pharmacists providing some primary care that was previously provided only by physicians.
This approach has many merits and can allow physicians to concentrate on key essential roles, as for Option 4, above. The keys will be to ensure that the health-care teams co-ordinate and integrate their work effectively, and that all essential services are provided.
Option 6: Collaborate with high-quality medical schools outside Canada to facilitate entry and training of willing and qualified Canadian students
If we’re not able to train sufficient physicians through our own medical school structure, we could partner with foreign, well-functioning medical schools to promote access for Canadians who wish to return to Canada and engage the types of practices that are in such demand.
This would require identifying appropriate schools and developing partnerships ensuring that the admission standards, curriculum and clinical training meet Canadian standards.
Option 7: Increase medical school admissions and training in Canada
The most obvious and intuitively appealing approach would be to simply ramp up the training pipeline within Canada’s medical schools. After all, we have excellent schools and certainly no shortage of very willing and capable applicants.
There are currently 18 medical schools in Canada. Plans are in place to expand to 20 schools over the next few years, but this will not be effective unless we change the current processes of training.
The supply of family doctors provided by our current admission and training processes falls far short of our needs. Recent studies also demonstrate that graduates from our current training programs are increasingly turning away from the comprehensive and community-based practices so much in need.
Consequently, even a dramatic expansion within the current training paradigm will fall far short of addressing our needs. To be effective, expansion must occur in conjunction with new approaches to admissions and training.
The major drawback of this approach, of course, is that it will take time to even begin to address the shortfall. However, it addresses the fundamental problem most directly and establishes a framework for ongoing sustainability.
While there is no single perfect solution, there are a number of approaches, all of which have potential to relieve Canada’s medical workforce crisis. It’s time to explore and pursue them all. It’s time to develop and empower a multi-disciplinary, pan-Canadian panel to decide which mix of the options will build the reliable, sustainable physician workforce that Canada needs and deserves.
Anthony Sanfilippo 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.
View of the United Nations logo at a 2022 conference of the Parties to the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons.Angela Weiss/AFP via Getty Images)
While the U.S. military’s strikes on Iran on June 21, 2025, are believed to have damaged the country’s critical nuclear infrastructure, no evidence has yet emerged showing the program to have been completely destroyed. In fact, an early U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency assessment surmised that the attack merely delayed Iran’s possible path to a nuclear weapon by less than six months. Further, Rafael Mariano Grossi, director of the United Nations’ International Atomic Energy Agency, stated that Iran may have moved its supply of enriched uranium ahead of the strikes, and assessed that Tehran could resume uranium enrichment “in a matter of months.”
As a scholar of nuclear nonproliferation, my research indicates that military strikes, such as the U.S. one against Iran, tend not to work. Diplomacy — involving broad and resolute international efforts — offers a more strategically effective way to preempt a country from obtaining a nuclear arsenal.
Yet neither military operation reliably or completely terminated the targeted program. Many experts of nuclear strategy believe that while the Israeli strike destroyed the Osirak complex, it likely accelerated Iraq’s fledgling nuclear program, increasing Saddam Hussein’s commitment to pursue a nuclear weapon.
In a similar vein, while Israeli airstrikes destroyed Syria’s nascent nuclear facility, evidence soon emerged that the country, under its former leader, Bashar Assad, may have continued its nuclear activities elsewhere.
Based on my appraisal of similar cases, the record shows that diplomacy has been a more consistently reliable strategy than military force for getting a targeted country to denuclearize.
The tactics involved in nuclear diplomacy include bilateral and multilateral engagement efforts and economic tools ranging from comprehensive sanctions to transformative aid and trade incentives. Travel and cultural sanctions – including bans on participating in international sporting and other events – can also contribute to the effectiveness of denuclearization diplomacy.
The high point of denuclearization diplomacy came in 1970, when the majority of the world signed the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. The treaty obliged nonnuclear weapons states to refrain from pursuing them, and existing nuclear powers to share civilian nuclear power technology and work toward eventual nuclear weapons disarmament.
I’ve found that in a majority of cases since then – notably in Argentina, Brazil, Libya, South Africa, South Korea and Taiwan – diplomacy played a pivotal role in convincing nuclear-seeking nations to entirely and permanently relinquish their pursuit of nuclear weapons.
Case studies of nuclear diplomacy
In the cases of U.S. allies Argentina, Brazil, South Korea and Taiwan, the military option was off the table for Washington, which instead successfully used diplomatic pressure to compel these countries to discontinue their nuclear programs. This involved the imposition of significant economic and technological sanctions on Argentina and Brazil in the late-1970s, which substantially contributed to the denuclearization of South America. In the South Korea and Taiwan cases, the threat of economic sanctions was effectively coupled with the risk of losing U.S. military aid and security guarantees.
In the case of Iraq, the Hussein regime eventually did denuclearize in the 1990s, but not through a deal negotiated directly with the U.S. or the international community. Rather, Hussein’s decision was motivated by the damaging economic and technological costs of the U.N. sanctions and his desire to see them lifted after the first Gulf War.
In the 11 countries in which diplomacy was used to reverse nuclear proliferation, only in the cases of India and Pakistan did it fail to induce any nuclear reversal.
Consistent with the historical track record for diplomacy concerning other nuclear powers, Iran offers compelling evidence of what diplomacy can achieve in lieu of military force.
Diplomatic negotiations between the U.S, Iran and five leading powers yielded the landmark Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action in 2015. The so-called Iran deal involved multilateral diplomacy and a set of economic sanctions and incentives, and persuaded Iran to place stringent limits on its nuclear program for at least 10 years and ship tons of enriched uranium out of the country. A report from the International Atomic Energy Agency in 2016 confirmed that Iran had abided by the terms of the agreement. Consequently, the U.S., European Union and U.N. responded by lifting sanctions.
Representatives of the nations involved in signing the 2015 Iran nuclear deal pose for a group photo following talks in July 2015. AP Photo/Ronald Zak
Trump signaled quickly after the recent attack on Iran a willingness to engage in direct talks with Tehran. However, Iran may rebuff any agreement that effectively contains its nuclear program, opting instead for the intensified underground approach Iraq took after the 1981 Osirak attack.
Indeed, my research shows that combining military threats with diplomacy reduces the prospects of successfully reaching a disarmament agreement. Nations will be more reluctant to disarm when their negotiating counterpart adopts a threatening and combative posture, as it heightens their fear that disarmament will make it more vulnerable to future aggression from the opposing country.
A return to an Iran nuclear deal?
Successful denuclearization diplomacy with Iran will not be a panacea for Middle East stability; the U.S. will continue to harbor concerns about Iran’s military-related actions and relationships in the region.
It is, after all, unlikely that any U.S. administration could strike a deal with Tehran on nuclear policy that would simultaneously settle all outstanding issues and resolve decades of mutual acrimony.
But by signing and abiding to the terms of the JCPOA, Iran has demonstrated a willingness to cooperate on the nuclear issue in the past. Under the agreement, Iran accepted a highly limited and low-proliferation-risk nuclear program subject to intrusive inspections by the international community.
That arrangement was beneficial for regional stability and for buttressing the global norm against nuclear proliferation. A return to a JCPOA-type agreement would reinforce a diplomatic approach to relations with Iran and create an opening for progress with the country on other areas of concern.
Stephen Collins 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.
View of the United Nations logo at a 2022 conference of the Parties to the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons.Angela Weiss/AFP via Getty Images)
While the U.S. military’s strikes on Iran on June 21, 2025, are believed to have damaged the country’s critical nuclear infrastructure, no evidence has yet emerged showing the program to have been completely destroyed. In fact, an early U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency assessment surmised that the attack merely delayed Iran’s possible path to a nuclear weapon by less than six months. Further, Rafael Mariano Grossi, director of the United Nations’ International Atomic Energy Agency, stated that Iran may have moved its supply of enriched uranium ahead of the strikes, and assessed that Tehran could resume uranium enrichment “in a matter of months.”
As a scholar of nuclear nonproliferation, my research indicates that military strikes, such as the U.S. one against Iran, tend not to work. Diplomacy — involving broad and resolute international efforts — offers a more strategically effective way to preempt a country from obtaining a nuclear arsenal.
Yet neither military operation reliably or completely terminated the targeted program. Many experts of nuclear strategy believe that while the Israeli strike destroyed the Osirak complex, it likely accelerated Iraq’s fledgling nuclear program, increasing Saddam Hussein’s commitment to pursue a nuclear weapon.
In a similar vein, while Israeli airstrikes destroyed Syria’s nascent nuclear facility, evidence soon emerged that the country, under its former leader, Bashar Assad, may have continued its nuclear activities elsewhere.
Based on my appraisal of similar cases, the record shows that diplomacy has been a more consistently reliable strategy than military force for getting a targeted country to denuclearize.
The tactics involved in nuclear diplomacy include bilateral and multilateral engagement efforts and economic tools ranging from comprehensive sanctions to transformative aid and trade incentives. Travel and cultural sanctions – including bans on participating in international sporting and other events – can also contribute to the effectiveness of denuclearization diplomacy.
The high point of denuclearization diplomacy came in 1970, when the majority of the world signed the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. The treaty obliged nonnuclear weapons states to refrain from pursuing them, and existing nuclear powers to share civilian nuclear power technology and work toward eventual nuclear weapons disarmament.
I’ve found that in a majority of cases since then – notably in Argentina, Brazil, Libya, South Africa, South Korea and Taiwan – diplomacy played a pivotal role in convincing nuclear-seeking nations to entirely and permanently relinquish their pursuit of nuclear weapons.
Case studies of nuclear diplomacy
In the cases of U.S. allies Argentina, Brazil, South Korea and Taiwan, the military option was off the table for Washington, which instead successfully used diplomatic pressure to compel these countries to discontinue their nuclear programs. This involved the imposition of significant economic and technological sanctions on Argentina and Brazil in the late-1970s, which substantially contributed to the denuclearization of South America. In the South Korea and Taiwan cases, the threat of economic sanctions was effectively coupled with the risk of losing U.S. military aid and security guarantees.
In the case of Iraq, the Hussein regime eventually did denuclearize in the 1990s, but not through a deal negotiated directly with the U.S. or the international community. Rather, Hussein’s decision was motivated by the damaging economic and technological costs of the U.N. sanctions and his desire to see them lifted after the first Gulf War.
In the 11 countries in which diplomacy was used to reverse nuclear proliferation, only in the cases of India and Pakistan did it fail to induce any nuclear reversal.
Consistent with the historical track record for diplomacy concerning other nuclear powers, Iran offers compelling evidence of what diplomacy can achieve in lieu of military force.
Diplomatic negotiations between the U.S, Iran and five leading powers yielded the landmark Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action in 2015. The so-called Iran deal involved multilateral diplomacy and a set of economic sanctions and incentives, and persuaded Iran to place stringent limits on its nuclear program for at least 10 years and ship tons of enriched uranium out of the country. A report from the International Atomic Energy Agency in 2016 confirmed that Iran had abided by the terms of the agreement. Consequently, the U.S., European Union and U.N. responded by lifting sanctions.
Representatives of the nations involved in signing the 2015 Iran nuclear deal pose for a group photo following talks in July 2015. AP Photo/Ronald Zak
Trump signaled quickly after the recent attack on Iran a willingness to engage in direct talks with Tehran. However, Iran may rebuff any agreement that effectively contains its nuclear program, opting instead for the intensified underground approach Iraq took after the 1981 Osirak attack.
Indeed, my research shows that combining military threats with diplomacy reduces the prospects of successfully reaching a disarmament agreement. Nations will be more reluctant to disarm when their negotiating counterpart adopts a threatening and combative posture, as it heightens their fear that disarmament will make it more vulnerable to future aggression from the opposing country.
A return to an Iran nuclear deal?
Successful denuclearization diplomacy with Iran will not be a panacea for Middle East stability; the U.S. will continue to harbor concerns about Iran’s military-related actions and relationships in the region.
It is, after all, unlikely that any U.S. administration could strike a deal with Tehran on nuclear policy that would simultaneously settle all outstanding issues and resolve decades of mutual acrimony.
But by signing and abiding to the terms of the JCPOA, Iran has demonstrated a willingness to cooperate on the nuclear issue in the past. Under the agreement, Iran accepted a highly limited and low-proliferation-risk nuclear program subject to intrusive inspections by the international community.
That arrangement was beneficial for regional stability and for buttressing the global norm against nuclear proliferation. A return to a JCPOA-type agreement would reinforce a diplomatic approach to relations with Iran and create an opening for progress with the country on other areas of concern.
Stephen Collins 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.
View of the United Nations logo at a 2022 conference of the Parties to the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons.Angela Weiss/AFP via Getty Images)
While the U.S. military’s strikes on Iran on June 21, 2025, are believed to have damaged the country’s critical nuclear infrastructure, no evidence has yet emerged showing the program to have been completely destroyed. In fact, an early U.S. Defense Intelligence Agency assessment surmised that the attack merely delayed Iran’s possible path to a nuclear weapon by less than six months. Further, Rafael Mariano Grossi, director of the United Nations’ International Atomic Energy Agency, stated that Iran may have moved its supply of enriched uranium ahead of the strikes, and assessed that Tehran could resume uranium enrichment “in a matter of months.”
As a scholar of nuclear nonproliferation, my research indicates that military strikes, such as the U.S. one against Iran, tend not to work. Diplomacy — involving broad and resolute international efforts — offers a more strategically effective way to preempt a country from obtaining a nuclear arsenal.
Yet neither military operation reliably or completely terminated the targeted program. Many experts of nuclear strategy believe that while the Israeli strike destroyed the Osirak complex, it likely accelerated Iraq’s fledgling nuclear program, increasing Saddam Hussein’s commitment to pursue a nuclear weapon.
In a similar vein, while Israeli airstrikes destroyed Syria’s nascent nuclear facility, evidence soon emerged that the country, under its former leader, Bashar Assad, may have continued its nuclear activities elsewhere.
Based on my appraisal of similar cases, the record shows that diplomacy has been a more consistently reliable strategy than military force for getting a targeted country to denuclearize.
The tactics involved in nuclear diplomacy include bilateral and multilateral engagement efforts and economic tools ranging from comprehensive sanctions to transformative aid and trade incentives. Travel and cultural sanctions – including bans on participating in international sporting and other events – can also contribute to the effectiveness of denuclearization diplomacy.
The high point of denuclearization diplomacy came in 1970, when the majority of the world signed the Treaty on the Non-Proliferation of Nuclear Weapons. The treaty obliged nonnuclear weapons states to refrain from pursuing them, and existing nuclear powers to share civilian nuclear power technology and work toward eventual nuclear weapons disarmament.
I’ve found that in a majority of cases since then – notably in Argentina, Brazil, Libya, South Africa, South Korea and Taiwan – diplomacy played a pivotal role in convincing nuclear-seeking nations to entirely and permanently relinquish their pursuit of nuclear weapons.
Case studies of nuclear diplomacy
In the cases of U.S. allies Argentina, Brazil, South Korea and Taiwan, the military option was off the table for Washington, which instead successfully used diplomatic pressure to compel these countries to discontinue their nuclear programs. This involved the imposition of significant economic and technological sanctions on Argentina and Brazil in the late-1970s, which substantially contributed to the denuclearization of South America. In the South Korea and Taiwan cases, the threat of economic sanctions was effectively coupled with the risk of losing U.S. military aid and security guarantees.
In the case of Iraq, the Hussein regime eventually did denuclearize in the 1990s, but not through a deal negotiated directly with the U.S. or the international community. Rather, Hussein’s decision was motivated by the damaging economic and technological costs of the U.N. sanctions and his desire to see them lifted after the first Gulf War.
In the 11 countries in which diplomacy was used to reverse nuclear proliferation, only in the cases of India and Pakistan did it fail to induce any nuclear reversal.
Consistent with the historical track record for diplomacy concerning other nuclear powers, Iran offers compelling evidence of what diplomacy can achieve in lieu of military force.
Diplomatic negotiations between the U.S, Iran and five leading powers yielded the landmark Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action in 2015. The so-called Iran deal involved multilateral diplomacy and a set of economic sanctions and incentives, and persuaded Iran to place stringent limits on its nuclear program for at least 10 years and ship tons of enriched uranium out of the country. A report from the International Atomic Energy Agency in 2016 confirmed that Iran had abided by the terms of the agreement. Consequently, the U.S., European Union and U.N. responded by lifting sanctions.
Representatives of the nations involved in signing the 2015 Iran nuclear deal pose for a group photo following talks in July 2015. AP Photo/Ronald Zak
Trump signaled quickly after the recent attack on Iran a willingness to engage in direct talks with Tehran. However, Iran may rebuff any agreement that effectively contains its nuclear program, opting instead for the intensified underground approach Iraq took after the 1981 Osirak attack.
Indeed, my research shows that combining military threats with diplomacy reduces the prospects of successfully reaching a disarmament agreement. Nations will be more reluctant to disarm when their negotiating counterpart adopts a threatening and combative posture, as it heightens their fear that disarmament will make it more vulnerable to future aggression from the opposing country.
A return to an Iran nuclear deal?
Successful denuclearization diplomacy with Iran will not be a panacea for Middle East stability; the U.S. will continue to harbor concerns about Iran’s military-related actions and relationships in the region.
It is, after all, unlikely that any U.S. administration could strike a deal with Tehran on nuclear policy that would simultaneously settle all outstanding issues and resolve decades of mutual acrimony.
But by signing and abiding to the terms of the JCPOA, Iran has demonstrated a willingness to cooperate on the nuclear issue in the past. Under the agreement, Iran accepted a highly limited and low-proliferation-risk nuclear program subject to intrusive inspections by the international community.
That arrangement was beneficial for regional stability and for buttressing the global norm against nuclear proliferation. A return to a JCPOA-type agreement would reinforce a diplomatic approach to relations with Iran and create an opening for progress with the country on other areas of concern.
Stephen Collins 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.
Satellite photo of rural Saga prefecture, Japan, showing farmland disuse, consolidation and intensification and urban development.Google Earth Pro, CC BY-NC-ND
Since 1970, 73% of global wildlife has been lost, while the world’s population has doubled to 8 billion. Research shows this isn’t a coincidence but that population growth is causing a catastrophic decline in biodiversity.
Yet a turning point in human history is underway. According to UN projections, the number of people in 85 countries will be shrinking by 2050, mostly in Europe and Asia. By 2100, the human population is on course for global decline. Some say this will be good for the environment.
In 2010, Japan became the first Asian country to begin depopulating. South Korea, China and Taiwan are following close behind. In 2014, Italy was the first in southern Europe, followed by Spain, Portugal and others. We call Japan and Italy “depopulation vanguard countries” on account of their role as forerunners for understanding possible consequences in their regions.
Given assumptions that depopulation could help deliver environmental restoration, we have been working with colleagues Yang Li and Taku Fujita to investigate whether Japan is experiencing what we have termed a biodiversity “depopulation dividend” or something else.
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Since 2003, hundreds of citizen scientists have been collecting biodiversity data for the Japanese government’s Monitoring Sites 1,000 project. We used 1.5 million recorded species observations from 158 sites.
These were in wooded, agricultural and peri-urban (transitional spaces on outskirts of cities) areas. We compared these observations against changes in local population, land use and surface temperature for periods of five to 20 years.
Our study, published in the journal Nature Sustainability, includes birds, butterflies, fireflies, frogs and 2,922 native and non-native plants. These landscapes have experienced the greatest depopulation since the 1990s.
Due to the size of our database, choice of sites and the positioning of Japan as a depopulation vanguard for north-east Asia, this is one of the largest studies of its kind.
Japan is not Chernobyl
Biodiversity continued to decrease in most of the areas we studied, irrespective of population increase or decrease. Only where the population remains steady is biodiversity more stable. However, the population of these areas is ageing and will decline soon, bringing them in line with the areas already seeing biodiversity loss.
Unlike in Chernobyl, where a sudden crisis caused an almost total evacuation which stimulated startling accounts of wildlife revival, Japan’s population loss has developed gradually. Here, a mosaic pattern of changing land use emerges amid still-functioning communities.
While most farmland remains under cultivation, some falls into disuse or abandonment, some is sold for urban development or transformed into intensively farmed landscapes. This prevents widespread natural succession of plant growth or afforestation (planting of new trees) that would enrich biodiversity.
In these areas, humans are agents of ecosystem sustainability. Traditional farming and seasonal livelihood practices, such as flooding, planting and harvesting of rice fields, orchard and coppice management, and property upkeep, are important for maintaining biodiversity. So depopulation can be destructive to nature. Some species thrive, but these are often non-native ones that present other challenges, such as the drying and choking of formerly wet rice paddy fields by invasive grasses.
Vacant and derelict buildings, underused infrastructure and socio-legal issues (such as complicated inheritance laws and land taxes, lack of local authority administrative capacity, and high demolition and disposal costs) all compound the problem.
An abandoned house, or akiya, in Niigata prefecture, Japan. Peter Matanle, CC BY-NC-ND
Even as the number of akiya (empty, disused or abandoned houses) increases to nearly 15% of the nation’s housing stock, the construction of new dwellings continues remorselessly. In 2024, more than 790,000 were built, due partly to Japan’s changing population distribution and household composition. Alongside these come roads, shopping malls, sports facilities, car parks and Japan’s ubiquitous convenience stores. All in all, wildlife has less space and fewer niches to inhabit, despite there being fewer people.
What can be done?
Data shows deepening depopulation in Japan and north-east Asia. Fertility rates remain low in most developed countries. Immigration provides only a short-term softer landing, as countries currently supplying migrants, such as Vietnam, are also on course for depopulation.
Our research demonstrates that biodiversity recovery needs to be actively managed, especially in depopulating areas. Despite this there are only a few rewilding projects in Japan. To help these develop, local authorities could be given powers to convert disused land into locally managed community conservancies.
Nature depletion is a systemic risk to global economic stability. Ecological risks, such as fish stock declines or deforestation, need better accountability from governments and corporations. Rather than spend on more infrastructure for an ever-dwindling population, for example, Japanese companies could invest in growing local natural forests for carbon credits.
Depopulation is emerging as a 21st-century global megatrend. Handled well, depopulation could help reduce the world’s most pressing environmental problems, including resource and energy use, emissions and waste, and nature conservation. But it needs to be actively managed for those opportunities to be realised.
Don’t have time to read about climate change as much as you’d like?
Kei Uchida received funding from JSPS Kakenhi 20K20002.
Masayoshi K. Hiraiwa 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.
Ancient wooden tools found at a site in Gantangqing in southwestern China are approximately 300,000 years old, new dating has shown. Discovered during excavations carried out in 2014–15 and 2018–19, the tools have now been dated by a team of archaeologists, geologists, chronologists (including me) and paleontologists.
The rare wooden tools were found alongside an assortment of animal and plant fossils and stone artifacts.
Taken together, the finds suggest the early humans at Gantangqing were surprisingly sophisticated woodworkers who lived in a rich tropical or subtropical environment where they subsisted by harvesting plants from a nearby lake.
The location of the Gantangqing site and excavation trenches. Liu et al. / Science
Why ancient wooden tools are so rare
Wood usually decomposes relatively rapidly due to microbial activity, oxidation, and weathering. Unlike stone or bone, it rarely survives more than a few centuries.
Wood can only survive for thousands of years or longer if it ends up buried in unusual conditions. Wood can last a long time in oxygen-free environments or extremely dry areas. Charred or fire-hardened wood is also more durable.
At Gantangqing, the wooden objects were excavated from low-oxygen clay-heavy layers of sediment formed on the ancient shoreline of Fuxian Lake.
Wooden implements are extremely rare from the Early Palaeolithic period (the first part of the “stone age” from around 3.3 million years ago until 300,000 years ago or so, in which our hominin ancestors first began to use tools). Indeed, wooden tools more than even 50,000 years old are virtually absent outside Africa and western Eurasia.
As a result, we may have a skewed understanding of Palaeolithic cultures. We may overemphasise the role of stone tools, for example, because they are what has survived.
What wooden tools were found at Gantangqing?
The new excavations at Gantangqing found 35 wooden specimens identified as artificially modified tools. These tools were primarily manufactured from pine wood, with a minority crafted from hardwoods.
Some of the tools had rounded ends, while others had chisel-like thin blades or ridged blades. Of the 35 tools, 32 show marks of intentional modification at their tips, working edges, or bases.
Two large digging implements were identified as heavy-duty digging sticks designed for two-handed use. These are unique forms of digging implements not documented elsewhere, suggesting localised functional adaptations. There were also four distinct hook-shaped tools — likely used for cutting roots — and a series of smaller tools for one-handed use.
Nineteen of the tools showed microscopic traces of scraping from shaping or use, while 17 exhibit deliberately polished surfaces. We also identified further evidence of intensive use, including soil residues stuck to tool tips, parallel grooves or streaks along working edges, and characteristic fracture wear patterns.
The tools from Gantangqing are more complete and show a wider range of functions than those found at contemporary sites such as Clacton in the UK and Florisbad in South Africa.
The team used several techniques to figure out the age of the wooden tools. There is no way to determine their age directly, but we can date the sediment in which they were found.
Using a technique called infrared stimulated luminescence, we analysed more than 10,000 individual grains of minerals from different layers. This showed the sediment was deposited roughly between 350,000 and 200,000 years ago.
Dating the different layers of sediment excavated at the site produced a detailed timeline. Liu et al. / Science
We also used different techniques to date a mammal tooth found in one of the layers to roughly 288,000 years old. This was consistent with the mineral results.
Next we used mathematical modelling to bring all the dating results together. Our model indicated that the layers containing stone tools and wooden implements date from 360–300,000 years ago to 290–250,000 years ago.
What was the environment like?
Our research indicates the ancient humans at Gantangqing inhabited a warm, humid, tropical or subtropical environment. Pollen extracted from the sediments reveals 40 plant families that confirm this climate.
Plant fossils further verify the presence of subtropical-to-tropical flora dominated by trees, lianas, shrubs and herbs. Wet-environment plants show the local surroundings were a lakeside or wetlands.
Animal fossils also fit this picture, including rhinoceros and other mammals, turtles and various birds. The ecosystem was likely a mosaic of grassland, thickets and forests. Evidence of diving ducks confirms the lake must have been at least 2–3 metres deep during human occupation.
The site contained evidence of plants such as storable pine nuts and hazelnuts, fruit trees such as kiwi, raspberry-like berries, grapes, edible herbs and fern fronds.
There were also aquatic plants that would have provided edible leaves, seeds, tubers and rhizomes. These were likely dug up from shallow mud near the shore, using wooden tools.
These findings suggest the Gantangqing hominins may have made expeditions to the lake shore, carrying purpose-made wooden digging sticks to harvest underground food sources. To do this, they would have had to anticipate seasonal plant distributions, know exactly what parts of different plants were edible, and produce specialised tools for different tasks.
Why the Gantangqing site is important
The wooden implements from Gantangqing represent the earliest known evidence for the use of digging sticks and for the exploitation of underground plant storage organs such as tubers within the Oriental biogeographic realm. Our discovery shows the use of sophisticated wood technology in a very different environmental context from what has been seen at sites of similar age in Europe and Africa.
The find significantly expands our understanding of early hominin woodworking capabilities.
The hominins who lived at Gantangqing appear to have lived a heavily plant-based subsistence lifestyle. This is in contrast to colder, more northern settings where tools of similar age have been found (such as Schöningen in Germany), where hunting large mammals was the key to survival.
The site also shows how important wood – and perhaps other organic materials – were to “stone age” hominins. These wooden artifacts show far more sophisticated manufacturing skill than the relative rudimentary stone tools found at sites of similar age across East and Southeast Asia.
The excavation, curation, and research of the Gantangqing site were supported by
National Cultural Heritage Administration (China), Yunnan Provincial Institute of
Cultural Relics and Archaeology, Yuxi Municipal Bureau of Culture and Tourism,
Chengjiang Municipal Bureau of Culture and Tourism, Australian Research Council
(ARC) Discovery Projects, Strategic Priority Research Program of the Chinese
Academy of Sciences, Hong Kong Research Grants Council (RGC), National Natural
Science Foundation of China (NSFC).
The greenhouse effect was discovered more than 150 years ago and the first scientific paper linking carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere with climate change was published in 1896.
But it wasn’t until the 1950s that scientists could definitively detect the effect of human activities on the Earth’s atmosphere.
In 1956, United States scientist Charles Keeling chose Hawaii’s Mauna Loa volcano for the site of a new atmospheric measuring station. It was ideal, located in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and at high altitude away from the confounding influence of population centres.
Data collected by Mauna Loa from 1958 onward let us clearly see the evidence of climate change for the first time. The station samples the air and measures global CO₂ levels. Charles Keeling and his successors used this data to produce the famous Keeling curve – a graph showing carbon dioxide levels increasing year after year.
But this precious record is in peril. US President Donald Trump has decided to defund the observatory recording the data, as well as the widespread US greenhouse gas monitoring network and other climate measuring sites.
We can’t solve the existential problem of climate change if we can’t track the changes. Losing Mauna Loa would be a huge loss to climate science. If it shuts, other observatories such as Australia’s Kennaook/Cape Grim will become even more vital.
The first year of measurements at Mauna Loa revealed something incredible. For the first time, the clear annual cycle in atmospheric CO₂ was visible. As plants grow in summer, they absorb CO₂ and draw it out of the atmosphere. As they die and decay in winter, the CO₂ returns to the atmosphere. It’s like Earth is breathing.
Most land on Earth is in the Northern Hemisphere, which means this cycle is largely influenced by the northern summer and winter.
The annual cycle of carbon dioxide is largely due to plant growth and decay in the northern hemisphere.
It only took a few years of measurements before an even more profound pattern emerged.
Year on year, CO₂ levels in the atmosphere were relentlessly rising. The natural in-out cycle continued, but against a steady increase.
Scientists would later figure out that the ocean and land together were absorbing almost half of the CO₂ produced by humans. But the rest was building up in the atmosphere.
Crucially, isotopic measurements meant scientists could be crystal clear about the origin of the extra carbon dioxide. It was coming from humans, largely through burning fossil fuels.
Mauna Loa has now been collecting data for more than 65 years. The resulting Keeling curve graph is the most iconic demonstration of how human activities are collectively affecting the planet.
When the last of the Baby Boomer generation were being born in the 1960s, CO₂ levels were around 320 parts per million. Now they’re over 420 ppm. That’s a level unseen for at least three million years. The rate of increase far exceeds any natural change in the past 50 million years.
The reason carbon dioxide is so important is that this molecule has special properties. Its ability to trap heat alongside other greenhouse gases means Earth isn’t a frozen rock. If there were no greenhouse gases, Earth would have an average temperature of -18°C, rather than the balmy 14°C under which human civilisation emerged.
The greenhouse effect is essential to life. But if there are too many gases, the planet becomes dangerously hot. That’s what’s happening now – a very sharp increase in gases exceptionally good at trapping heat even at low concentrations.
Greenhouse gases are the reason Earth isn’t an icebox. But the rate humans are emitting them is leading to very rapid changes. Reid Wiseman/NASA, CC BY-NC-ND
Keeping our eyes open
It’s not enough to know CO₂ is climbing. Monitoring is essential. That’s because as the planet warms, both the ocean and the land are expected to take up less and less of humanity’s emissions, letting still more carbon accumulate in the air.
Continuous, high-precision monitoring is the only way to spot if and when that happens.
This monitoring provides the vital means to verify whether new climate policies are genuinely influencing the atmospheric CO₂ curve rather than just being touted as effective. Monitoring will also be vital to capture the moment many have been working towards when government policies and new technologies finally slow and eventually stop the increase in CO₂.
The US administration’s plans to defund key climate monitoring systems and roll back green energy initiatives presents a global challenge.
Without these systems, it will be harder to forecast the weather and give seasonal updates. It will also be harder to forecast dangerous extreme weather events.
Scientists in the US and globally have sounded the alarm about what the closure would do to science. This is understandable. Stopping data climate collection is like breaking a thermometer because you don’t like knowing you’ve got a fever.
If the US follows through, other countries will need to carefully reconsider their commitments to gathering and sharing climate data.
Australia has a long record of direct atmospheric CO₂ measurement, which began in 1976 at the Kennaook/Cape Grim Baseline Air Pollution Station in north-west Tasmania. This and other climate observations will only become more valuable if Mauna Loa is lost.
It remains to be seen how Australia’s leaders respond to the US retreat from climate monitoring. Ideally, Australia would not only maintain but strategically expand its monitoring systems of atmosphere, land and oceans.
Alex Sen Gupta receives funding from the Australian Research Council.
Katrin Meissner receives funding from the Minderoo Foundation and has received funding from the Australian Research Council in the past.
Timothy Raupach receives funding from QBE Insurance, Guy Carpenter, and the Australian Research Council.
In 1962, poet and Auschwitz survivor Yehiel Dinur took the stand in Jerusalem in the trial of Nazi war criminal Adolf Eichmann. Dinur was a much-anticipated witness, bearing the audience’s hope this man, a poet, would be able to explain – to capture and to transmit – the experience of Auschwitz, and of the Holocaust; that he could speak the unspeakable. Prosecutor Gideon Hausner hoped such a witness might “do justice to the six million personal tragedies”.
Dinur used the name Katzetnik 135633 in his writings, also translated as “Prisoner 135663”. On the stand, he said: “I believe wholeheartedly that I have to continue to bear this name until the world awakens.”
Awakening, understanding, empathy and change are the sentiments many survivors hope for, or ask for, during and after periods of trauma. The 20th century saw many of those pleas. The 21st century has done no better at honouring the promise, captured in the title of the 1984 Argentinian commission report on forced disappearances, Nunca Mas: never again. No matter how many such pleas appear before the courts, before the aggressors, before those in solidarity, the horrors of war, torture, starvation and genocide seem to happen again – and again.
Three recent books from the region where war was been raging since the Hamas attacks on Israel on October 7 2023, and the ensuing war on Gaza, are part of these pleas.
Review: Eyes on Gaza – Plestia Alaqad (Macmillan), Letters from Gaza – edited by Mohammed Al-Zaqzooq & Mahmoud Alshaer (Penguin), Gates of Gaza – Amir Tibon (Scribe)
Eyes on Gaza is an on-the-ground account of the death and destruction of the first 45 days of the war by now 23-year-old Palestinian journalist Plestia Alaqad, who moved to Melbourne with her family in November 2023. Letters from Gaza is a collection of 50 stories, poems and fragments from Palestinian writers enduring the past 20 months. And Gates of Gaza is the story of Israeli journalist Amir Tibon, a resident of Nahal Oz, one of the border kibbutz attacked by Hamas on October 7.
Plestia Alaqad. Plestia
These are all first-person testimonies of experiences of being under attack, though those attacks differ. We might say they fit into the genre adopted in truth commissions, such as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa: a response to the nation’s years of living under the apartheid laws, discarded when Nelson Mandela took power in 1994.
The commission was one effort to heal from this past. But, like the Eichmann trial, it needed stories to explain the histories of violence, and it needed the pain to be voiced to explain its impacts on communities, families and relationships.
The use of people’s narratives to “bear witness” to the complex layers of legally sanctioned and militarily executed pain, loss and the traumas they can produce, is sometimes effective in helping audiences understand them. The Bringing Them Home Report in 1997 used this form to explain the incidence and impacts of the forced removal of Indigenous children by the Australian state. It was effective as one form of creating a shared reality for all in Australia, who then understood the term “stolen generations” and the pain, loss and genocidal intent to which this phrase refers.
More recently, the Yoorrook Justice Commission in Victoria, Australia’s first formal truth-telling inquiry into historic and ongoing systemic injustices perpetrated against First Nations Peoples by colonisation, has also brought histories of loss, dispossession and abuse to light, using stories. Stories can make sense of the impact incurred through the intertwined web of policies, statistics, discrimination and quotidian violence at the hands of the state.
The work of testimony
The narratives in these books written since October 7 2023 are part of this genre of testimony or storytelling. But at least two of these books are not attempting to explain the past. They might be described better as pleas to stop what the International Court of Justice has called “a plausible genocide” happening in the present.
They are, in one reading, wishes for the world to understand the experience of pain, rage, loss, fear, distress and defeat that accompanies destruction and unbearable loss. A wish for the world to hear, or perhaps feel, the words on the page – and make the pain stop.
They wish the world would “awaken” to what is happening right now.
The dynamic of awakening is the stock in trade of truth commissions. One party testifies or speaks to an experience, and the audience wakes up to what has been happening. As a result, they either change or facilitate change. The truth, captured as testimony, is supposed to set people free. Not just the speaker, but the community of speakers weighed down by history – or by the struggles of the past or the present.
In legal forms the reason to speak is clear. The reason to speak in literature, biographies and works of nonfiction is less clear. What does the author want from us, the readers? But perhaps more importantly, what can we offer?
She wants the genocide to stop. She wants a free Palestine. She wants her home and her life back. The stories in this book show readers outside Gaza some of the life and death of those first six and a half weeks.
Her last entry before she leaves Gaza for Egypt – and then Australia – is dated Day 45. During those 45 days, she puts on a press helmet and jacket, which both give her protection and weigh her down. And then she speaks: to cameras, to followers, to anyone who will listen. Her social media feeds documenting the war gained worldwide attention, her Instagram following rising from around 3,700 to 4.1 million today.
There are too many deaths to be witnessed – by her and the reader. She describes genocide as an understatement for what is occurring in Gaza: “we lose more people than our hearts can handle”. She has seen so much death, heard so many screams. By day 30,
all you can hear is a voice crying for help from under the rubble. You turn your back and walk away, because there’s nothing you can do to help.
But Plestia’s project is more than documenting death. She is careful to show many aspects of life in Gaza. She shows how Palestinians retain relationships, family and pets. How a young boy just needs his “pot plant” from his destroyed house, under skies filled with drones and bombs. This is a plea for the genocide to stop, but it is also a celebration of being Palestinian. It is an homage to life in Gaza.
It is also a plea to see Palestinians as more than numbers – and more than how they are depicted by Israel.
“The world,” she says, “sometimes treats us like terrorists, trying to justify its complacency in allowing us to be massacred. And we know the perception, we read the propaganda just like everyone else. But the reality is that we’re the opposite.”
She describes gentle moments of love and care between her fellow journalists and the people they interview. The children they bring sweets for, the “bird lady” who renames her tortoise “Plestia” after her. Both Plestia the tortoise and the “bird lady” are now living in a tent. She speaks of the doctors who work tirelessly.
In the midst of brutal amputations and unimaginable burns, she recounts the care of a doctor giving cream for a skin rash that has tormented her, diagnosed as a product of her anxiety. Anxiety seems a gentle diagnosis for symptoms produced by witnessing and documenting such brutality.
Anxiety over her helplessness, perhaps, over the lack of sleep, of nourishing food: dwindling even in those first 45 days. Anxiety seems like a Western preoccupation, from this writing distance. What Plestia experiences seems more like layers of embodied distress. Her empathy allows her to feel, perhaps too much. Empathy can be an enemy.
Around page 100, she begins to deteriorate. “It’s funny how genocide changes a person,” she writes, describing herself as “Genocide Plestia”. She’s devastated, exhausted. She has lost hope. The journal entries are shorter, more repetitive.
They recite her helplessness with what Jacqueline Rose, co-director of the Birkbeck Institute for the Humanities, has called the “repetitive thud of referentiality”.
You feel Plestia’s effort to try to speak with some life in the pages, to use writing as a therapeutic tool. You wish it for her, but she has trouble summoning the energy, the life, any hope. As she poignantly quips: “Fake it till you make it doesn’t work during a Genocide”. What is there to say in such relentless days of loss?
You want Plestia to get up, you want a happy ending, for a conclusion to the painful story, but the problem is time. The reader’s time, the reality of time since she wrote her book.
Day 45, her last day in Gaza, is Monday November 20 2023. I read this book in June 2025, 646 days later – and it hasn’t stopped. When Plestia leaves Gaza and finally arrives here in Melbourne, the conditions she describes have been ongoing for more than 20 months. A recently released survey by the Palestinian Center for Policy and Survey Research estimates almost 84,000 people died in Gaza between October 2023 and early January 2025, as a result of the war. And that was six months ago.
50 letters from Gaza
The numbers are a way of reducing the experience of grief, devastation, loss (and the viewer’s guilt) to simple digits. Digits have no face and no sound. This is helpful to viewers, but it does not do justice to the 84,000, as Gideon Hausner knew well. No one awakens by hearing the numbers. But they matter.
In Letters from Gaza, psychologist Ahmed Mortaja fears becoming a news story, “a dull number … I don’t want my name and my family name to be reduced to mere numbers, whether odd or even”.
This book, a fragmented collection of 50 poems, stories and accounts, is devoted to giving life to those numbers. To animating the loss, so readers can apply their own imaginations, so we can understand the incomprehensible. It is a collection of fragments of lives since October 7 2023, squeezed into expressive pages. There is no “letter” more than six pages long. They are backed up against each other, permeating one another.
Each letter tells a different story and the same story. Each finds a detail that has no language: flowers in a girl’s hair, dreams of careers that will perhaps never be, the sounds of explosions. They are stories of the impossible search for bread, the longing for a bed and a pillow. And, as in Plestia’s account, they evoke the relentless buzz of the drones in the sky in Gaza: everywhere, all day, every day since October 7 2023. Like tinnitus, like torture.
The book begins with an effort to give names to numbers. On the first page, in the publisher’s note, we read that two of the authors, Sara al-Assar and Basma al-Hor, cannot be contacted. Because of communication lines and constant displacements, the details “may not reflect their current location or circumstances”. Authors may have died or been further displaced. Communication towers are destroyed. Tents are moved as people are moved on. Tents are destroyed.
In Plestia’s accounts, there are displacements to safe zones that then become unsafe, so they move again and again – until the only choice is tents, often without food or blankets. She describes seeing 33,000 people in a displacement shelter, this number increasing daily. Just as numbers are not people, tents are not homes. In Letters from Gaza, the displaced tents are character, metaphor and reality.
The stories are different, as are the deaths and losses within them, but these painful accounts help explain each other. The personal stories help animate words like displacement, refugee camp, genocide, so they do not fall into the pile of legal terms disconnected from names.
But after the United Nations declarations in the opening pages, we hear no more of law – and little of justice. As Palestinian human rights lawyer and founder of the Palestinian Centre for Human Rights, Raji Sourani said: Gaza is in danger of becoming “the graveyard of international law”. What is left are stories. The short stories, poems and brief accounts are packaged so they do not ask too much of the reader – just enough to provoke tears, and perhaps donations. Many readers will feel some of the helplessness in these pages.
There are stories of hunger; the loss of grandmothers and children. I cried many times reading this book, but the next story would quickly arrive and sometimes bring relief. There is something sad, but ordinary, about details like a cat who finds a tent too hot. Unlike Plestia’s clear analysis and summation of the genocide in Gaza, the politics of this book are comparably quiet. Not absent, but quiet. The word genocide is mentioned four times, “Holocaust” only once. (I counted.)
In Letters from Gaza, no one says Israel, only “the occupiers”. Husam Maarouf writes, “we no longer want anything from you […] Only to die in safety.” His entry is dated March 1 2024; he may well be dead. Batool Abu Akleen makes simple requests of the reader (or perhaps of God): “I want a grave, I don’t want my corpse to rot in the open road.” But the book seems to intentionally not accuse. We are told:
this is not a book about war. It is a book about human souls that strive to avoid being hunted down by war. It is about how innocents are forced to learn how to survive when everything around them is about killing, destruction and death.
But the accusation is there. How could it not be? Against Israel as occupier and aggressor – and the reader as bystander.
Accusation sometimes comes embedded in questions. “Is one person’s pain greater than another’s?” asks Gaza poet and teacher Doha Kahlout. This question resonates with one inscribed on the Holocaust Memorial Tree in Hungary: “Whose agony is greater than mine?”
When comparing agony, only one can live
Jewish author, philosopher and psychoanalyst Jessica Benjamin, writing on Palestine and Israeli peace struggles, cautions against pitting stories from Israel and Palestine against each other, such that “only one can live”. Only one story, one narrative, one version of pain and loss.
Holding multiple stories of suffering in mind is very difficult: for the survivor, for the listener and even for the psychoanalyst. Many survivors suffer symptoms of trauma that reduce the world to interpretation through their experience of its painful histories.
In Eyes of Gaza, writing from Melbourne, Plestia shows a moment of this:
On the train home, I see a lady with a suitcase, and the first thing that I think of is displacement, imagining how everyone in Gaza carries their whole life in their bag […] Then the announcement: Next Stop […] And I’m snapped back into reality.
In this moment, the suitcase is only read through the lens of the past. It’s what is described colloquially as living in the past – a type of banal flashback, often a symptom of trauma. But when pain colonises bodies and narratives, recognising the pain of others is difficult to see. It may be impossible to see the experiences of the other’s world through any other lens than one’s own pain. Whose agony is greater than mine? is a competitive statement, not a question.
In the war of greater pain, an Israeli child in fear may be read against a Palestinian child enduring the loss of their limbs and their whole family. Only one (story) can live.
To hold two competing stories of pain, loss and agony in mind requires a feat of mental health endurance few are capable of: the Nelson Mandelas of this world. Working in the field of transitional justice, I have met a few.
Most have experienced great loss and know there is no comparison at the level of agony. They resist “the repetitive thud of referentiality” because it drowns out conversation, annihilating curiosity and empathy alike. They know all stories must have their time.
In October 2023, “liberal” London Jewish journalist and filmmaker Michael Segalov, once a “staunch defender of Israel”, tried to hold competing stories. He wrote about seeing Israel–Palestine through the lens of “fear and trauma – of the Shoah, of the Nakba, of generations now born into perpetual fear”.
Early Jewish settlers were not “imperial soldiers”, but “a persecuted population failed by global governments pre and post Holocaust”, he points out. But by 1948, the year after the UN resolution that called for Palestine to be divided into Arab and Jewish states, “more than 750,000 Palestinians were made refugees, 15,000 killed”.
“While these lands might well feel a Jewish ancestral home,” he wrote, “within living memory, it was shared with another people: the majority.” In 1922, in the first census carried out under the British Mandate, the population of Palestine was 763,550: 89% were Arabs and 11% Jewish.
As Palestinian psychiatrist Eyad El Sarraj stressed while talking with Jessica Benjamin during peace negotiations, we must “stand simultaneously for the recognition of all injuries, while at the same time being clear that one side was coming from the position of Occupied and less powerful, the other Occupying and dominating”. Stories matter, politics matters.
And some stories take more time than others – some stories are given more time than others. This is a matter of politics and practicality.
Surviving the October 7 attacks
Israeli journalist Amir Tibon and his family survived the October 7 attack on Kibbutz Nahal Oz, on the Gaza border; they are now internal refugees in northern Israel. He and his partner settled in Nahal Oz and raised a family. On the morning of October 7, they heard the sounds of the attack and raced to their safe room, spending the next five hours in there trying to keep their children – Galia, 3 years old and Carmel, aged 19 months – quiet.
Amir Tibon and his family survived the Oct 7 attack on Kibbutz Nahal Oz, on the Gaza border. Scribe
In discussing Tibon’s book, Gates of Gaza: a story of betrayal, survival and hope in Israel’s borderlands, I risk comparison and competition. Sometimes stories speak to each other, even when they speak to the silences. I resisted this one’s proximity to the above stories. But that is also to resist reality. It is to resist the importance of difference. All experience is valuable, but sometimes comparison reveals inequality.
Plestia knows this well. The survivor guilt of which she writes is part of the hierarchy experienced by all survivors of mass violence. That she and her family survived, that she migrated, is to feel guilt for escaping the fate of those who have been starved, tortured, obliterated.
Yehiel Dinur spoke from this position of guilt on the stand in 1962, saying he was speaking for those who died in Auschwitz. In the face of others’ death, all survivors struggle with justification. Competition is one form of this: Whose agony is greater than mine?
Tibon was a resident of Nahal Oz, having moved there with his partner because of its beauty, nine years before October 7. He describes it as having “a strong, left-wing, liberal political leaning”, and says residents of the border areas are “some of the strongest advocates of Israeli–Palestinian peace”. He writes that the kibbutz movement has, “for decades”, been in favour of “a compromise that would allow Jews and Arabs to share this land, with agreed-upon borders – borders that, of course, would have to be protected”.
In the 300-plus pages, Tibon describes the morning of October 7 in detail. The fear of his children and his partner as they stayed quiet in a safe room for some five hours. The sounds of shootings and desperation as he read pleas and accounts from other residents on the community’s WhatsApp group as the attacks unfolded.
The narrative of that morning is interspersed with accounts from people who survived in his community: his parents, some of those who attended the Nova music festival, and Israeli Defense Force (IDF) soldiers. The narrative moves between that morning and a history of the kibbutz, framed in a history of Israel’s political lurching between right and left – and back again – over the 87 years since its recognition as a nation state by the UN.
In one reading, this is a history book of 87 years – not just an account of five hours. It is a particular history.
The narrative of those five hours is intense, peppered with stories of his parents racing from Tel Aviv to the kibbutz. Tibon’s father is a crucial figure in this narrative. A retired IDF general with “more than three decades” in the military, including combat experience, he seemingly has the capacity to assess situations and navigate a war zone with skill. It is his father who finally knocks on the “safe room” door in the afternoon (about halfway through the book). Tibon reports hearing “a strong bang and a familiar voice” from inside.
The father, we could say, is the embodiment of Tibon’s feelings for – and belief in – a strong, kind Israel. An army general, protective husband and grandfather (in Hebrew, Saba), he is longed for by Tibon’s young children, who “loved their grandparents”, particularly his father, “who pampered and spoiled them at every opportunity”. This grandfather’s presence at the safe-room door allows the family to re-enter the safety of Israel.
If the father is Israel, the sleeping children are its citizens. Carmel and Galia slept through much of the conflict, barely awakened by gunshots. They were rushed to the safe room the moment the shots were heard.
Once you know the stories from Letters of Gaza, it is hard not to compare this to the waking of Mohammed Al Zaqzooq’s three boys – Baraa, Jawad and Basil – to the sound of “Huge missiles in large numbers making terrifying sounds” and the need to flee. Not least, because Amir’s children were barely awakened by shots outside. Their safe room kept the noise muffled and the danger at bay. This is not to say their fear won’t impact on their actions later. Transgenerational trauma has a way of influencing the future.
Mohammed’s children moved quickly, within half an hour, to a refugee camp. At the time of writing, they remain there. His story is five pages long. Amir’s is 300-plus. Amir, an author and award-winning diplomatic correspondent for Haaretz, Israel’s liberal paper of record, has access to a computer, electricity and the security required to think, research and write.
But why does he write this book? In the acknowledgements, he describes himself as needing to be encouraged, unsure of the worth of telling the story of his five hours in the safe room. But he describes much more than five hours.
His book is a story of Israel – and particularly, of its informal settlements. In the early 1950s, he writes, 20 young soldiers – ten men and ten women – were taken by bus to this site to settle it. Nahal Oz is so close to Gaza, it has “agricultural lands which literally touch the border fence”. The kibbutzim functioned as a kind of human border, with increased populations: the 20 broke into couples, then families. Within a few years, they had a small farming community, with a person devoted to security.
Empty land?
This is not a story of military invasion and colonisation, however. It is a story of settlement on land represented as empty. We know this story well in Australia. In this context, it can be a plea for a recognition of innocence.
As Amir tells it, there were no Palestinians in the place before: no one was removed or relocated. Only in passing does he mention the Bedouin who passed through the area before.
In Australia, Irene Watson and Aileen Moreton-Robinson have, in different ways, explained lands do not need to be sites of permanent agriculture to be crucial to the survival of some groups or nations. Borders and settlements can disturb land, law and life regardless of whether houses are demolished or not.
The beauty of Nahal Oz, Amir writes, was due to its access to water and its site on fertile land, where trees provided shelter and probably food. Its loss was likely no small thing to people who required sustenance and shelter as they moved through. After the settlement, they no longer could.
After Israel set up its border there, only Israelis could pass through without being subject to the checkpoints that are well documented sites of humiliation and arbitrary punishment for Palestinians.
By 1997, the walls went up near Nahal Oz. But the walls to shield Nahal Oz from Gaza – and particularly from its people – were not enough. Amir describes the elaborate and extensive tunnels used by Palestinian soldiers to enter Israel (he calls them “terrorists” and “suicide bombers”).
The tunnels became the problem of Palestinian attacks on Israeli settlers. To deal with this problem, the concrete walls were built, reaching 160 metres underground, preventing any permeation. Then, on October 7, the walls could not provide security. Then, there was only the safe room.
The safe room is an obvious metaphor in this book. It is Israel under attack. One of these rooms has been built into every house in the kibbutz, so families can be safe from the mortar attacks from Gaza – a regular occurrence since the 1987 Intifada.
Plestia tells us that the materials for a safe room are not allowed to be brought into Gaza. There are no safe rooms there. Tibon doesn’t mention this; maybe he doesn’t even know this fact, which is its own symptom of the political and social environment in Israel.
He does describe “the unimaginable destruction that Israel has unleashed on Gaza in the aftermath” of the October 7 attacks. He is critical of this “destruction”, though he does not use the term genocide. (There are those who wait for the International Court of Justice to decide if it was more than “plausible” – and there are those who cannot wait.)
Tibon is critical of Israel’s right wing, which cultivates war. He wants peace. But peace here is its own violence.
Like the rhetoric of reconciliation in South Africa, calls for peace can do violence to historical experiences of injustice. There, reconciliation discourse has been criticised, along with its apolitical leanings. Reconciliation in South Africa has largely meant people subject to historical injustices must reconcile themselves to their losses and their reality.
A story attributed to Father Mxolisi Mapanbani, of Tom and Bernard and the bicycle, has been used many times to critique “reconciliation” rhetoric in South Africa. It is helpful here.
Tom and Bernard are friends and live opposite each other. One day, Tom stole Bernard’s bicycle. Every day, Bernard saw Tom cycling to school on it. After some time, Tom went up to Bernard and said, “Let us reconcile and put the past behind us.” Bernard said, “Okay, let’s reconcile – what about the bicycle?” “Oh no,” said Tom, “I’m not talking about the bicycle, I’m talking about reconciliation.”
In the Australian context, after Kevin Rudd’s apology to the stolen generations in 2008, human rights and social justice campaigner Tom Calma described this form of reconciliation as the “unfinished business of justice”.
The apology might have offered some form of acknowledgement, and gone some way toward creating a shared reality on the injustices of the past, but while justice remains unfinished, many are not at peace.
Amir wants peace. He doesn’t want to live in a safe house – but he wants his house and his family to live securely in Nahal Oz. He wants Palestinians to be at peace with this reality.
The word “peace”, like “reconciliation”, does a lot of work to present Tibon on the side of “the good”. Just like, in Letters From Gaza, the relative lack of the word “genocide” keeps the accusation at bay and politics in the background – and it keeps its calls for recognition of suffering at the fore. In this book about “human souls”, the editors call for a recognition of shared humanity.
Tibon is careful not to group “terrorists” under that name – though he uses a Hebrew word that means exactly that. (Mehablim, he calls the people who attacked Nahal Oz.) Why? Though he writes in English and undoubtably spoke Hebrew throughout the siege, why does he speak of the Palestinian attackers as Mehablim?
The answer might be found in the fact no Palestinian name, beyond former Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat, appears in these pages. He has interviewed many people, but none of them are Palestinian. Their narrative remains outside his text.
We must find the humanity of the Palestinians in other stories.
If the safe room is a metaphor for Israel, the tent – as described in so many of the stories in Letters from Gaza, and in Plestia’s account of those 45 days – is a metaphor for the lives of Palestinians in Israel, and perhaps the world’s eyes.
A tent is permeable, fragile, disposable. Bodies within it are subject to displacement, starvation, genocide. Every house in Tibon’s kibbutz has a safe room. There have been at least seven bombings of tent camps in Gaza. How can you not do the maths?
Stories, awakening and halting the bombs
Stories demand people are not reduced to mathematics. They place the reader in the scene and plead for identification and understanding. Writing on the Eichmann trial, Holocaust historian and legal scholar Lawrence Douglas describes “the words of the survivors that built a bridge from the accused to the world of ashes”.
Afrikaaner journalist and poet Antje Krog writes, on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa, “In all the stories a landscape is created.”
But this landscape, if it is to have any effect, must be mapped across previous perceptions. For that, it must do damage to the secure world – the pre-existing imaginative landscape – of the reader or of the listener.
Moral philosopher Rai Gaita describes remorse as “a dying to the world”: a little death is required of the listener or reader who is implicated as a bystander, encountering the suffering of others. A death of complacency. A small disintegration that may mean our own peaceful worlds are no longer tenable.
This is why stories, particularly, are mobilised in truth commissions. They animate the impossible numbers – the dry policies and repetitive loss – with scenes of humanity. Testimony – personal stories – link the words (genocide, massacre, terror) to an imagination of a scene, a person, a child or a parent. To people we can identify or empathise with.
Like the two worlds connected in Ahmed Mortaja’s poem, Hubb and Harb, In Letters from Gaza:
tonight I will fall asleep telling myself that the noise outside is fireworks, a celebration and nothing more.
That the frightened screams of children are the gleeful terror of suspense before something long-awaited, like Eid.
Tonight, I will fall asleep scrolling through the photos on my phone, telling myself that my evening with friends wasn’t that great – really, I was bored – so now I’m skimming through memories to pass the time.
If empathy were all it took to halt the counting of the 646 days in Gaza, then Letters from Gaza and Eyes on Gaza would achieve their aim. But empathy rarely produces political change.
Stories – the 50 voices in Letters from Gaza, accounts like Plestia’s – make us cry, perhaps make us donate, but they do not halt the bombs. This, and more, might be what Yehiel Dinur meant when he asked for the world to “awaken”, that it change, that it stop what Tibon calls “the unimaginable destruction”.
Until then, Dinur pledged to remain Katzetnik 135633. Until then, we will likely only know “Genocide Plestia”: “it’s funny how genocide changes a person”.
Juliet Rogers 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 demise of one of Hong Kong’s last major pro-democracy parties, the League of Social Democrats, is the latest blow to the city’s crumbling democratic credentials.
The league is the third major opposition party to disband this year. The announcement coincides with the fifth anniversary this week of the national security law, which was imposed by Beijing to suppress pro-democracy activity.
The loss of this grassroots party, historically populated by bold and colourful characters, vividly illustrates the dying of the light in once-sparkling Hong Kong.
The city is now greyed and labouring under a repressive internal security regime that has crushed civil society’s freedoms and democratic ambitions.
Authoritarian crackdown
The world witnessed Hong Kong at its brightest during the 2014 Umbrella Movement, when hundreds of thousands of pro-democracy protesters camped out on city streets for several months.
We also saw the brutal sequel in 2019, when paramilitarised police sought to put down further civil unrest and protesters fought back.
Since then, “lawfare” has been the preferred strategy of China’s national government and its Hong Kong satellite. The new approach has included a vast security apparatus and aggressive prosecutions.
When Beijing intervened in July 2020, it was nominally about national security. In reality, the new law was designed and used to bring Hongkongers to heel.
Civil freedoms were further curtailed by a home-grown security law, introduced last year to fill the gaps.
International standards such as the Johannesburg Principles, endorsed by the United Nations, require national security laws to be compatible with democratic principles, not to be used to eliminate democratic activity.
Prison or exile
The League of Social Democrats occupied the populist left of the pro-democracy spectrum. It stood apart from contemporaries such as the Democratic Party and the Civic Party, which were dominated by professionals and elites, and have since been disbanded.
The League was most notably represented by the likes of “Long Hair” Leung Kwok-hung– known for his Che Guevara t-shirts and banana-throwing – and broadcaster and journalism academic Raymond Wong Yuk-man, also known as “Mad Dog”.
Despite their rambunctious styles, these men had real political credentials and were repeatedly elected to legislative office. But Leung is now imprisoned for subversion, while Wong has left for Taiwan.
Leung Kwok-hung was sentenced to subversion under the national security law. Edwin Kwok/Shutterstock
Party leaders such as Jimmy Sham Tsz-kit and Figo Chan Ho-wun were also prominent within the Civil Human Rights Front. It was responsible for the annual July 1 protest march that attracted hundreds of thousands of people every year. The front is yet another pro-democracy organisation that has dissolved.
Sham and Chan have been jailed for subversion and unlawful assembly under the colonial-era Public Order Ordinance, which has been used to prosecute hundreds of activists.
Zero tolerance
The demise of these diverse organisations are not natural occurrences, but the result of a deliberate authoritarian programme.
Under China, Hong Kong’s political system has been half democratic at best. But it now resembles something from the darkest days of colonialism, with pre-approved candidates, appointed legislators and zero tolerance for critical voices.
Activists and watchdogs are stymied by the national security law. It criminalises – among other things – engagement and lobbying with international organisations and foreign governments.
Then there are the millions of ordinary Hongkongers whose dreams of a liberal and self-governing region under mainland China’s umbrella – as promised in the lead up to the 1997 handover – have been shattered.
But countless ex-protesters remain in the city, where it is impermissible to speak critically of power, and where mandatory patriotic education may ensure new generations will never even think to speak up.
Much blame lies with the British, who failed to institute democratic elections until the last gasp of their rule in Hong Kong. This was despite the colony tolerating liberalism and habit-forming democratic activity over a longer period.
Now China, after almost three decades in charge, has responded to democratic challenges by defaulting to authoritarian control. Hong Kong can only be grateful it has been spared a Tiananmen-style incident. Nor has it experienced the full genocidal extent of the so-called “peripheries playbook” Beijing has used in Tibet and Xinjiang.
Turmoil and authoritarian swings in the United States and elsewhere give China an opportunity to present as a voice of reason on the international stage.
But we should not forget its commitment to repressive politics at home, nor what its support of belligerent regimes such as Putin’s Russia might mean for Taiwan, the region and the world.
Above all, we should not forget the people, in Hong Kong and elsewhere, who made it their life’s work to achieve democracy only to be rewarded with prison or exile.
Brendan Clift 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.
For years, scientists have believed that inflammation inevitably increases with age, quietly fuelling diseases like heart disease, dementia and diabetes. But a new study of Indigenous populations challenges that idea and could reshape how we think about ageing itself.
For decades, scientists have identified chronic low-level inflammation – called “inflammaging” – as one of the primary drivers of age-related diseases. Think of it as your body’s immune system stuck in overdrive – constantly fighting battles that don’t exist, gradually wearing down organs and systems.
But inflammaging might not be a universal feature of ageing after all. Instead, it could be a byproduct of how we live in modern society.
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The research, published in Nature Aging, compared patterns of inflammation in four very different communities around the world. Two groups were from modern, industrialised societies – older adults living in Italy and Singapore.
The other two were Indigenous communities who live more traditional lifestyles: the Tsimane people of the Bolivian Amazon and the Orang Asli in the forests of Malaysia.
The researchers analysed blood samples from more than 2,800 people, looking at a wide range of inflammatory molecules, known as cytokines. Their goal was to find out whether a pattern seen in earlier studies – where certain signs of inflammation rise with age and are linked to disease – also appears in other parts of the world.
The answer, it turns out, is both yes and no.
Among the Italian and Singaporean participants, the researchers found a fairly consistent inflammaging pattern. As people aged, levels of inflammatory markers in the blood, such as C-reactive protein and tumour necrosis factor, rose together. Higher levels were linked to a greater risk of chronic diseases including kidney disease and heart disease.
But in the Tsimane and Orang Asli populations, the inflammaging pattern was absent. The same inflammatory molecules did not rise consistently with age, and they were not strongly linked to age-related diseases.
In fact, among the Tsimane, who face high rates of infections from parasites and other pathogens, inflammation levels were often elevated. Yet this did not lead to the same rates of chronic diseases that are common in industrialised nations.
Despite high inflammatory markers, the Tsimane experience very low rates of conditions such as heart disease, diabetes and dementia.
Inflammaging may not be universal
These results raise important questions. One possibility is that inflammaging, at least as measured through these blood signals, is not a universal biological feature of ageing. Instead, it may arise in societies marked by high-calorie diets, low physical activity and reduced exposure to infections.
In other words, chronic inflammation linked to ageing and disease might not simply result from an inevitable biological process, but rather from a mismatch between our ancient physiology and the modern environment.
The study suggests that in communities with more traditional lifestyles – where people are more active, eat differently and are exposed to more infections – the immune system may work in a different way. In these groups, higher levels of inflammation might be a normal, healthy response to their environment, rather than a sign that the body is breaking down with age.
Another possibility is that inflammaging may still occur in all humans, but it might appear in different ways that are not captured by measuring inflammatory molecules in the blood. It could be happening at a cellular or tissue level, where it remains invisible to the blood tests used in this research.
If these findings are confirmed, they could have significant consequences.
First, they challenge how we diagnose and treat chronic inflammation in ageing. Biomarkers used to define inflammaging in European or Asian populations might not apply in other settings, or even among all groups within industrialised nations.
Second, they suggest that lifestyle interventions aimed at lowering chronic inflammation, such as exercise, changes in diet, or drugs targeting specific inflammatory molecules, might have different effects in different populations. What works for people living in cities might be unnecessary, or even ineffective, in those living traditional lifestyles.
Finally, this research serves as an important reminder that much of our knowledge about human health and ageing comes from studies conducted in wealthy, industrialised nations. Findings from these groups cannot automatically be assumed to apply worldwide.
The researchers are clear: this study is just the beginning. They urge scientists to dig deeper, using new tools that can detect inflammation not just in the blood, but within tissues and cells where the real story of ageing may be unfolding. Just as important, they call for more inclusive research that spans the full range of human experience, not just the wealthy, urbanised corners of the world.
At the very least, this study offers an important lesson. What we thought was a universal truth about the biology of ageing might instead be a local story, shaped by our environment, lifestyle and the way we live.
The authors 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.
Twenty years ago, I was walking through central London with my history teacher when a bus exploded behind us. We were in London for an awards ceremony at Westminster where I was to pick up the award for best opposition speaker in the Youth Parliament competition.
We had arrived at Euston station and all local transport had been cancelled. At this point, we heard that there’d been a bomb scare.
We bought a map at the station and set off to walk to Westminster when the number 30 bus exploded on Tavistock Square. It was the loudest sound I’d ever heard. People were running and screaming. We ran too and took shelter in a nearby park.
We later learned that four bombs had been detonated on London’s transport system. The attack, carried out by British-born Islamist extremists on July 7 2005, claimed the lives of 52 people and injured hundreds. My teacher and I were far enough away from the bus to be physically unhurt.
Four years on from the attacks on 9/11, this was a time when, in the minds of many, Muslims were already associated with terrorism. Despite going to a state school where the pupils were predominantly Muslim, we were called terrorists in the playground.
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In the aftermath of 7/7, there was no space for Muslim survivors like me. No headlines about our fear, our trauma or our belonging – only suspicion. While I was lucky to walk away physically unscathed, I carried a different kind of wound: being part of a community that was treated with collective blame.
My academic research focuses on ethnic minority voting behaviour, political participation and representation in Britain. The events of 7/7 marked a critical moment in how British Muslims are still viewed as inherently suspect today.
Over the last 25 years, Muslim communities have been viewed as places where terrorism is fostered. Following 7/7, British Muslims were viewed as a security threat by politicians, the media and many non-Muslims.
One stark example was the implementation of the Prevent counter-terrorism programme after 7/7. Prevent has contributed to increased surveillance and marginalisation of Muslim communities in the UK.
Fear of Muslims and especially “home-grown terrorists” has meant that Muslims are made to feel that they must condemn terrorist acts. Despite the fact that an overwhelming majority of Muslims in the UK identify as British and are proud to be British citizens, British Muslims often feel they must prove their “Britishness” and distance themselves from stereotypes of Muslims as terrorists or terrorist sympathisers.
Post-7/7 arguments that British Muslims were at odds with “British values” and fears that Britain was sleepwalking into segregation have persisted in politics and the media. Negative portrayals of Islam and Muslims in media, including stigmatising, offensive and biased news reports have not helped.
Twenty years after the London bombings, there are more Muslim voices in politics and media, and a greater awareness of Islamophobia. The idea that London could have a Muslim mayor, as it does today with Sadiq Khan, may have been unthinkable in the immediate aftermath of 7/7.
But the fear that gripped the country in 2005 never disappeared, it just changed shape. Today it shows up in political attacks and increases in anti-Muslim hate crimes in the context of the war in Gaza. It also shows up in attacks on the religious freedoms of British Muslims – like calls for a burka ban – under the guise of “British values”.
While there are more Muslims in politics at every level, they are not exempt from stereotypes. In my research on ethnic minority local councillors, I’ve found Muslim women councillors were often stereotyped as submissive and oppressed in white council spaces.
A hijab-wearing Muslim woman councillor received comments that she wasn’t “westernised enough” and that she needed to be “more modernised”. Another Muslim woman councillor had a white male journalist remark that she was “very confident” in a way she felt was derisive.
Working against ingrained stereotypes of how a Muslim woman would behave, these councillors often faced a double burden: having to constantly prove their “modernity” and competence while simultaneously navigating accusations of being either too passive or too assertive – never quite fitting the narrow expectations imposed upon them.
In research on ethnic minority voting behaviour in the EU referendum, I found that campaign groups for Brexit such as Muslims for Britain drew on “good Muslim” narratives to buttress their claims to Britishness. For example, they have referred to the sacrifices Muslim soldiers made for Britain in the two world wars, to position British Muslims – particularly those with south Asian heritage – as established and loyal members of the nation.
Even as a survivor of terrorism, I – like many British Muslims – am constantly made to prove my distance from it. I have particularly noticed this as a woman of Bangladeshi heritage, sharing a surname with Shamima Begum, who joined Islamic State as a teenager and had her UK citizenship stripped.
Begum is also my mother’s name, my classmates’ name, and shared by many British Bengali women. It belongs to Nadiya Hussain (née Begum), winner of The Great British Bake Off and Halima Begum, chief executive of Oxfam. Behind every headline are real, complex communities still hoping to be seen beyond the shadow of suspicion.
Neema Begum receives funding from the British Academy.
Source: The Conversation – USA – By Elizabeth Carlen, Living Earth Collaborative Postdoctoral Fellow, Washington University in St. Louis
A Buddhist monk in Hong Kong releases fish and chants prayers during a ceremony to free the spirits of tsunami victims.Samantha Sin/AFP via Getty Images
People often consider evolution to be a process that occurs in nature in the background of human society. But evolution is not separate from human beings. In fact, human cultural practices can influence evolution in wildlife. This influence is highly pronounced in cities, where people drastically alter landscapes to meet their own needs.
Human actions can affect wildlife evolution in a number of ways. If people fragment habitat, separated wildlife populations can evolve to be more and more different from each other. If people change certain local conditions, it can pressure organisms in new ways that mean different genes are favored by natural selection and passed on to offspring – another form of evolution that can be driven by what people do.
In a recent review, evolutionary biologists Marta Szulkin, Colin Garrowayand I, in collaboration with scientists spread across five continents, explored how cultural processes – including religion, politics and war – shape urban evolution. We reviewed dozens of empirical studies about urban wildlife around the globe. Our work highlights which human cultural practices have and continue to shape the evolutionary trajectory of wild animals and plants.
Religious practices
If you’ve traveled internationally, you may have noticed the menu at any one McDonald’s restaurant is shaped by the local culture of its location. In the United Arab Emirates, McDonald’s serves an entirely halal menu. Vegetarian items are common and no beef is served in Indian McDonald’s. And in the United States, McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish is especially popular during Lent when observant Catholics don’t consume meat on Fridays.
Similarly, ecosystems of cities are shaped by local cultural practices. Because all wildlife are connected to the environment, cultural practices that alter the landscape shape the evolution of urban organisms.
Populations of fire salamanders have different genes depending on which side of city walls in Oviedo, Spain, they live on. Patrice Skrzynski via Getty Images
For example, in Oviedo, Spain, people constructed walls around religious buildings between the 12th and 16th centuries. This division of the city led to different populations of fire salamanders inside and outside the walls. Because salamanders can’t scale these walls, those on opposite sides became isolated from each other and unable to pass genes back and forth. In a process that scientists call genetic drift, over time salamanders on the two sides became genetically distinct − evidence of the two populations evolving independently.
Imagine dumping out a handful of M&Ms. Just by chance, some colors might be overrepresented and others might be missing. In the same way, genes that are overrepresented on one side of the wall can be in low numbers or missing on the other side. That’s genetic drift.
Introducing non-native wildlife is another way people can alter urban ecosystems and evolutionary processes. For example, prayer animal release is a practice that started in the fifth or sixth century in some sects of Buddhism. Practitioners who strive to cause no harm to any living creature release captive animals, which benefits the animal and is meant to improve the karma of the person who released it.
However, these animals are often captured from the wild or come from the pet trade, thereby introducing non-native wildlife into the urban ecosystem. Non-natives may compete with local species and contribute to the local extinction of native wildlife. Capturing animals nearby has downsides, too. It can diminish local populations, since many die traveling to the release ceremony. The genetic diversity of these local populations in turn decreases, reducing the population’s ability to survive.
Politically motivated campaigns have shaped wildlife in various ways.
Starting in 1958, for instance, the Chinese Communist Party led a movement to eliminate four species that were considered pests: rats, flies, mosquitoes and sparrows. While the first three are commonly considered pests around the world, sparrows made the list because they were “public animals of capitalism” due to their fondness for grain. The extermination campaign ended up decimating the sparrow population and damaging the entire ecosystem. With sparrows no longer hunting and eating insects, crop pests such as locusts thrived, leading to crop destruction and famine.
In the United States, racial politics may be shaping evolutionary processes in wildlife.
For instance, American highways traverse cities according to political agendas and have often dismantled poor neighborhoods of color to make way for multilane thoroughfares. These highways can change how animals are able to disperse and commingle. For example, they prevent bobcats and coyotes from traveling throughout Los Angeles, leading to similar patterns of population differentiation as seen in fire salamanders in Spain.
Wildlife during and after war
Human religious and political agendas often lead to armed conflict. Wars are known to dramatically alter the environment, as seen in current conflicts in Gaza and Ukraine.
While documenting evolutionary changes to urban wildlife is secondary to keeping people safe during wartime, a handful of studies on wildlife have come out of active war zones. For example, the current Russia-Ukraine war affected the migration of greater spotted eagles. They made large diversions around the active war zone, arriving later than usual at their breeding grounds. The longer route increased the energy the eagles used during migration and likely influenced their fitness during breeding.
Wars limit access to resources for people living in active war zones. The lack of energy to heat homes in Ukraine during the winter has led urban residents to harvest wood from nearby forests. This harvesting will have long-term consequences on forest dynamics, likely altering future evolutionary potential.
A similar example is famine that occurred during the Democratic Republic of Congo’s civil wars (1996-1997, 1998-2003) and led to an increase in bushmeat consumption. This wildlife hunting is known to reduce primate population sizes, making them more susceptible to local extinction.
Even after war, landscapes experience consequences.
For example, the demilitarized zone between North Korea and South Korea is a 160-mile (250-kilometer) barrier, established in 1953, separating the two countries. Heavily fortified with razor wire and landmines, the demilitarized zone has become a de facto nature sanctuary supporting thousands of species, including dozens of endangered species.
The collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War led to the establishment of the European Green Belt, which runs along the same path as the Iron Curtain. This protected ecological network is over 7,800 miles (12,500 kilometers) long, allowing wildlife to move freely across 24 countries in Europe. Like the Korean DMZ, the European Green Belt allows for wildlife to move, breed and exchange genes, despite political boundaries. Politics has removed human influence from these spaces, allowing them to be a safe haven for wildlife.
While researchers have documented a number of examples of wildlife evolving in response to human history and cultural practices, there’s plenty more to uncover. Cultures differ around the world, meaning each city has its own set of variables that shape the evolutionary processes of wildlife. Understanding how these human cultural practices shape evolutionary patterns will allow people to better design cities that support both humans and the wildlife that call these places home.
Ideas for this article were developed as part of a NSF funded Research Coordination Network (DEB 1840663). Elizabeth Carlen was funded by the Living Earth Collaborative.
SEVILLE, Spain – The United Nations World Food Programme (WFP) welcomes a USD 37 million contribution from the Republic of Korea (ROK) through a new joint initiative to support WFP’s humanitarian operations in crisis areas.
Launched in 2025, the REACH initiative (Responding with Emergency Assistance for Conflict-affected Households) is designed to provide emergency support to vulnerable households impacted by conflict and disaster. The new initiative allows the Republic of Korea to support global humanitarian response in a more strategic and impactful way.
The ROK Ministry of Foreign Affairs and WFP held a meeting on the sidelines of the 4th Development Finance Conference in Seville, Spain, on 1 July, reaffirming their shared commitment to addressing global food crises. The meeting was attended by Rania Dagash-Kamara, WFP Assistant Executive Director for Partnerships and Innovation, and Jina Kim, Second Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs of the ROK.
“The Republic of Korea-WFP REACH initiative is more than a funding mechanism – it is a strategic partnership built on trust and shared values,” said Rania Dagash-Kamara, WFP Assistant Executive Director. “The ROK’s continued solidarity helps WFP’s response in unprecedented humanitarian crises, delivering life-saving assistance to communities in places like Palestine, Sudan, and Syria.”
Under the REACH initiative, WFP will deliver emergency relief, including food assistance, cash-based transfers, and nutrition support with a focus on helping vulnerable households stabilize their livelihoods. The initiative showcases ROK’s humanitarian leadership and commitment to global solidarity, playing a critical role in saving lives and delivering hope in times of crisis.
In 2024, the Republic of Korea contributed over USD 200 million to WFP, becoming one of WFP’s top five government donors. Having once received assistance from WFP more than 60 years ago, ROK has transitioned into a leading donor – an inspiring testament to progress in the fight against hunger.
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The United Nations World Food Programme is the world’s largest humanitarian organization saving lives in emergencies and using food assistance to build a pathway to peace, stability and prosperity for people recovering from conflict, disasters and the impact of climate change.
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For the first time, the outcome document includes a dedicated paragraph (para 17) on disaster risk reduction (DRR), committing to scale up investment in DRR and promote risk-informed infrastructure development aligned with the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction. The Compromiso de Sevilla further includes over 20 technical references to disaster and climate risk financing across its sections—a reflection of growing recognition of the financial imperative to reduce risk.
“This commitment reflects the growing consensus on the need for greater and smarter financing to achieve the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction,” said Kamal Kishore, Special Representative of the UN Secretary-General for Disaster Risk Reduction and Head of UNDRR.
“Let us be clear: financing disaster risk reduction is not a cost—it is an investment. Every dollar invested in resilience saves multiple in avoided losses, reduced humanitarian needs, expedited recovery time, and protected livelihoods.”
UNDRR also used the platform to advance the Risk to Resilience Finance Initiative, a new programme designed to help vulnerable countries build national financial systems for DRR and scale up investment in disaster and climate resilience. The initiative, endorsed by Guatemala, Japan, Mexico, Peru, Portugal, Poland, UK, as well as UNCDF, and UNU-EHS, is now part of the Sevilla Platform for Action.
The initiative aims to support vulnerable countries over five years—particularly LDCs and SIDS— in developing national financing systems adapted to their context that ensure funding for DRR measures at all levels, promote risk-informed investment planning across sectors, and establish financial mechanisms to absorb disaster shocks and enable faster recovery.
In a side event co-hosted by UNDRR, Japan, Poland, Portugal, UK and UNCDF, government officials, financial institutions, and development partners discussed how to integrate disaster and climate risk into national budgeting and investment planning, for instance through debt swaps, integration of resilience criteria in infrastructure development, and the issuance of resilience bonds.
With DRR now firmly embedded in the Financing for Development agenda, UNDRR reiterated its commitment to working with all partners to accelerate the shift from risk to resilience, ensuring no development gain is lost to disaster.
Catalyzing investment in resilience
The Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction identifies investing in disaster risk reduction as one of its four priority actions. In response, UNDRR has intensified its work in this area. Our goal is to support countries in accessing more financing for prevention, while at the same time, helping the public and private sectors to de-risk investments and reorient financial flows for increased resilience. Learn more
The Committee on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women today closed its ninety-first session after adopting concluding observations regarding reports on implementation of the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Womensubmitted by Afghanistan, Botswana, Chad, Ireland, Mexico, San Marino and Thailand, which the Committee reviewed during the session in Geneva, as well as those of Fiji, Solomon Islands and Tuvalu, which it reviewed during a technical cooperation session held in Fiji in April.
The concluding observations adopted by the Committee on the countries under review will soon be available on the session’s webpage.
In concluding remarks, Committee Chairperson Nahla Haidar said that during the ninety-first session, in addition to holding dialogues with States parties, the Committee had held informal meetings with non-governmental organizations and national human rights institutions from most of the States parties reviewed.
Ms. Haidar said the highlight of this session was the review of the fourth periodic report of Afghanistan, with recommendations addressed to the de facto authorities, the international community, the United Nations system, as well as the Permanent Mission in Geneva, with which the Committee held the dialogue following the fourth cycle Universal Periodic Review of Afghanistan in 2024.
Important progress had been made in rationalising the Committee’s working methods and using meeting time more efficiently, Ms. Haidar said, while regretting that the ninety-second session, scheduled to take place in October 2025, had been cancelled due to the current financial situation of the United Nations Secretariat. She applauded the Working Group on working methods for their tremendous work in re-structuring the constructive dialogues with States parties and finding transitional solutions to cope with the reduced meeting time.
Ms. Haidar was similarly pleased with the progress achieved by the Working Group on gender-based violence against women, which enabled the Committee to publish an initial position paper on tech-facilitated gender-based violence against womenand to consider a statement on a proposed Optional Protocol on the issue. The Working Group on women, peace and security also made important headway by producing an advance unedited addendum to General Recommendation 30 (2013) on women in conflict prevention, conflict and post-conflict situations, the advance unedited version of which would be submitted as a contribution to mark the twenty-fifth anniversary of Security Council resolution 1325 (2000) on women, peace and security. It would be published in September for an online consultation process, inviting comments from all interested stakeholders at the occasion of the meeting of the General Assembly. Ms. Haidar said she was very satisfied that the Committee was able to deliver on its core mandates under the Convention and the Optional Protocol during this session.
During the session, Ms. Haidar said, the Committee also held informal meetings with the United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction, the Special Rapporteur on violence against women and girls, Reem Alsalem, and with the new Chief of the Human Rights Treaties Branch of the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Antti Korkeakivi.
In closing, Ms. Haidar thanked all those who contributed to the session, including Committee members, the Committee secretariat and United Nations staff. She said the Committee had successfully delivered on its mandate to protect and promote women’s rights and gender equality. Although the session scheduled for October of this year had been cancelled, the Committee Experts would continue to work together online and looked forward to meeting in person next year, she concluded.
At the beginning of the meeting, Committee Rapporteur Brenda Akia presented the draft report of the session, which contained the draft report of the Working Group of the Whole. The Committee then adopted the report ad referendum.
Due to the current liquidity situation of the United Nations Secretariat and associated cash conservation measures, the Committee session scheduled for 6 to 24 October 2025 has been cancelled.
Information on the dates of the next session and the reports to be reviewed will be published on the Committee’s webpageat a later date.
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Produced by the United Nations Information Service in Geneva for use of the media; not an official record. English and French versions of our releases are different as they are the product of two separate coverage teams that work independently.
There are 50 wildfires currently burning across Alberta in the Forest Protection Area, and four mutual aid fires.
14 are classified as out of control, eight are being held and 28 are under control.
There have been 12 new wildfires since yesterday.
Since Jan. 1, there have been 707 wildfires in the Forest Protection Area, burning more than 679,000 hectares.
More than 1,500 Alberta firefighters, contract firefighters and imported firefighters are currently battling wildfires across the province.
Resources currently being used include heavy equipment, air tankers, helicopters and night vision helicopters.
Alberta has imported firefighters and aircraft from New Brunswick, Canadian Interagency Forest Fire Centre, Australia, Costa Rica and the United States Forest Service.
Information about wildfires can be found by visiting the Alberta Wildfire Status Dashboard.
Orders and alerts
Updates on evacuation orders are available on www.alberta.ca/emergency.
The Kee Tas Kee Now Tribal Council’s evacuation orders for Peerless Lake and Trout Lake remain in effect.
Registration centre at 10451 170 Street, Edmonton.
The Municipal District of Opportunity No. 17’s evacuation order for Chipewyan Lake also remains in effect.
Reception centre at Lakeview Sports Centre, 102 Opportunity Drive, Wabasca-Desmarais.
The Kee Tas Kee Now Tribal Council’s evacuation alert for the Loon River First Nation (Loon Lake) remains in effect.
The Municipal District of Opportunity No. 17’s evacuation alert for Red Earth Creek remains in effect.
Saddle Hills County’s evacuation alert for the Blueberry Mountain area remains in effect.
Alberta Emergency Alerts are issued by local authorities and are updated at their discretion. For the best source of information on the status of evacuation orders and alerts, residents are encouraged to follow their local authorities’ preferred communication channels for updates.
People living in Alberta are encouraged to download the Alberta Emergency Alert mobile app, which immediately pushes all alerts out to subscribers.
Fire bans
Due to rain and cooler temperatures, the fire ban in the Fort McMurray and High Level Forest Areas has been lifted.
Please confirm advisories, restrictions or bans for your area at alberta.ca/fire-bans.
Fire bans outside the Forest Protection Area are the responsibility of municipalities and counties.
Everyone has a role to play in wildfire prevention. Follow all fire bans and restrictions to avoid new fire starts. If you see smoke or flames in the forest, call 310-FIRE to report it.
Applying FireSmart principles to homes and property can mitigate the risk of wildfire damage. Removing flammable materials and vegetation around the property and preventing embers from accumulating can help protect your home from wildfires. To learn more, visit FireSmart Alberta.
Air quality
Visit Wildfire Smoke Information for air quality monitoring information to make informed decisions about outdoor activities to protect your health. While wildfire smoke is affecting air quality in parts of Alberta, the presence of smoke does not necessarily mean there is fire near your community. Find information about the status of active wildfires and wildfire updates at Alberta Wildfire.
Roads and highways
Highway 686 between Red Earth Creek and Trout Lake is closed due to a wildfire.
511 Alberta is the best source of real time information as conditions change on our highways. Follow on X (formerly known as Twitter) @511alberta.
Alberta highways that are affected by the wildfires will open and close frequently depending on safety and weather conditions. Be patient and respect the staff at the closure/detour sites – they are there with your safety in mind.
Health
For information about wildfire resources, including mental health, visit Wildfire Resources | Alberta Health Services.
Child care
One child-care centre is currently closed in response to community evacuations:
Opportunity Childcare, in Red Earth Creek.
Licensed child-care programs are required to notify Child Care Connect if they close unexpectedly.
Parents and guardians should reach out to their child-care provider for information on closures.
Justice and court services
Court sittings will resume in person at the Red Earth Creek courthouse on July 15.
Visit the Alberta Courts website for the most current information regarding court scheduling.
Related information
Active emergency updates
Alberta Emergency Alerts
Download the Alberta Emergency Alerts app
Download the Alberta Wildfire app
How to prepare for an emergency
Wildfire smoke information
Emergency evacuation payments
Free admission to provincial museums and historic sites
Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Trinidad and Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar planted a sapling in Port of Spain as part of the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative.
In a post on X, PM Modi thanked Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar for participating in the campaign.
“Grateful to Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar for joining the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative. India and Trinidad & Tobago understand the adverse impacts of climate change and we will continue to do our utmost to make our planet greener and better”, the PM said.
Earlier on Friday, PM Modi met Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar at the Red House in Port of Spain. He congratulated her on assuming office for a second term following her recent election victory.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of potential areas for cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, UPI, capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties.
Sharing details of the meeting, PM Modi said in a post on X that they held discussions on all aspects of India–Trinidad and Tobago friendship. “We agreed on the need to further accelerate our economic partnership and focus on areas such as disaster management, climate change, and defence.”
Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Trinidad and Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar planted a sapling in Port of Spain as part of the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative.
In a post on X, PM Modi thanked Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar for participating in the campaign.
“Grateful to Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar for joining the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative. India and Trinidad & Tobago understand the adverse impacts of climate change and we will continue to do our utmost to make our planet greener and better”, the PM said.
Earlier on Friday, PM Modi met Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar at the Red House in Port of Spain. He congratulated her on assuming office for a second term following her recent election victory.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of potential areas for cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, UPI, capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties.
Sharing details of the meeting, PM Modi said in a post on X that they held discussions on all aspects of India–Trinidad and Tobago friendship. “We agreed on the need to further accelerate our economic partnership and focus on areas such as disaster management, climate change, and defence.”
Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Trinidad and Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar planted a sapling in Port of Spain as part of the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative.
In a post on X, PM Modi thanked Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar for participating in the campaign.
“Grateful to Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar for joining the ‘Ek Ped Maa Ke Naam’ initiative. India and Trinidad & Tobago understand the adverse impacts of climate change and we will continue to do our utmost to make our planet greener and better”, the PM said.
Earlier on Friday, PM Modi met Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar at the Red House in Port of Spain. He congratulated her on assuming office for a second term following her recent election victory.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of potential areas for cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, UPI, capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties.
Sharing details of the meeting, PM Modi said in a post on X that they held discussions on all aspects of India–Trinidad and Tobago friendship. “We agreed on the need to further accelerate our economic partnership and focus on areas such as disaster management, climate change, and defence.”
All eyes will be on Chiang Mai this Saturday as India face Thailand in a winner-takes-all clash for a place at the AFC Women’s Asian Cup Australia 2026.
After more than two months of preparation and three dominant wins in the group stage, the Blue Tigresses are one match away from rewriting history. India have never qualified for the Asian Cup through the qualifiers route — the last time they featured was in 2003, when there were none. They did play in the 2022 edition as hosts but were forced to withdraw due to a COVID-19 outbreak.
The stakes are higher this time. The path to a first-ever FIFA Women’s World Cup in 2027 runs through Australia. “Qualification right now would be a huge boost for Indian football overall,” head coach Crispin Chettri said. “It would inspire more young girls to take up the sport and help the women’s game grow. For those already in the national team, it’s a chance to test themselves against Asia’s best — and possibly the world’s.”
On paper, Thailand hold the edge. They are ranked 46th in the world, 24 spots above India, and have qualified for nine consecutive Asian Cups and two World Cups (2015, 2019). Yet in the qualifiers so far, the two teams have been neck and neck. India thrashed Mongolia 13-0, Timor Leste 4-0, and Iraq 5-0. Thailand beat the same opponents 11-0, 4-0, and 7-0. Both sides boast a +22 goal difference — setting up a knockout in every sense. If scores remain level after 90 minutes, the tie will be decided on penalties.
Chettri knows Saturday’s test will be tougher but insists the approach remains unchanged. “We’ve respected every opponent and prepared diligently. Thailand are a stronger side and deserve that respect — but our plan is to finish the job in 90 minutes. We’re not thinking about penalties.”
Midfielders Anju Tamang and Sangita Basfore know what to expect. The duo featured when India lost narrowly to Thailand 1-0 at the 2023 Asian Games in China. “They’re a quality side,” said Tamang, who has a goal and two assists so far. “They like to keep the ball and play quick, short passes. We have to fight hard and play with the right spirit to get the win.”
For India, the equation is simple: a win in Chiang Mai keeps the dream alive — and brings the 2027 World Cup one step closer.
All eyes will be on Chiang Mai this Saturday as India face Thailand in a winner-takes-all clash for a place at the AFC Women’s Asian Cup Australia 2026.
After more than two months of preparation and three dominant wins in the group stage, the Blue Tigresses are one match away from rewriting history. India have never qualified for the Asian Cup through the qualifiers route — the last time they featured was in 2003, when there were none. They did play in the 2022 edition as hosts but were forced to withdraw due to a COVID-19 outbreak.
The stakes are higher this time. The path to a first-ever FIFA Women’s World Cup in 2027 runs through Australia. “Qualification right now would be a huge boost for Indian football overall,” head coach Crispin Chettri said. “It would inspire more young girls to take up the sport and help the women’s game grow. For those already in the national team, it’s a chance to test themselves against Asia’s best — and possibly the world’s.”
On paper, Thailand hold the edge. They are ranked 46th in the world, 24 spots above India, and have qualified for nine consecutive Asian Cups and two World Cups (2015, 2019). Yet in the qualifiers so far, the two teams have been neck and neck. India thrashed Mongolia 13-0, Timor Leste 4-0, and Iraq 5-0. Thailand beat the same opponents 11-0, 4-0, and 7-0. Both sides boast a +22 goal difference — setting up a knockout in every sense. If scores remain level after 90 minutes, the tie will be decided on penalties.
Chettri knows Saturday’s test will be tougher but insists the approach remains unchanged. “We’ve respected every opponent and prepared diligently. Thailand are a stronger side and deserve that respect — but our plan is to finish the job in 90 minutes. We’re not thinking about penalties.”
Midfielders Anju Tamang and Sangita Basfore know what to expect. The duo featured when India lost narrowly to Thailand 1-0 at the 2023 Asian Games in China. “They’re a quality side,” said Tamang, who has a goal and two assists so far. “They like to keep the ball and play quick, short passes. We have to fight hard and play with the right spirit to get the win.”
For India, the equation is simple: a win in Chiang Mai keeps the dream alive — and brings the 2027 World Cup one step closer.
On 1 July 2025, His Excellency Mr. Thanawat Sirikul, Ambassador of Thailand to Egypt, met with members of the Thai Student Association in Cairo under the Royal Patronage (TSA in Cairo), 70th Committee, at the Royal Thai Embassy in Cairo. During the meeting, the Ambassador highlighted the Thai Government’s student-related policy to enhance national competitiveness through the promotion of digital skills and Artificial Intelligence (AI). He also underscored the importance of foreign language proficiency—particularly in English and Arabic—as these skills are increasingly in demand in Thailand’s tourism and hospitality sectors. Furthermore, in light of the current fragile security situation in the region, the Ambassador emphasized the need for students to stay informed and updated on regional developments by following the news regularly.
On this occasion, the Embassy also introduced a new online certificate issuance system designed to streamline and expedite the processing of official documents. This system will be especially useful for students requiring certificates for purposes such as academic applications or scholarship requests. Additionally, members of the TSA in Cairo presented their planned activities for the upcoming semester break. These include more than ten initiatives covering areas such as academics, sports and recreation, and the overall well-being of Thai students in Cairo. In response, the Embassy expressed its continued commitment to supporting the initiatives of the TSA in Cairo.
Distributed by APO Group on behalf of Royal Thai Embassy, Cairo, Egypt.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Friday met Trinidad & Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar in Port of Spain, where the two leaders held wide-ranging talks aimed at boosting cooperation in areas from agriculture and healthcare to digital payments and cultural exchanges.
he meeting took place at the historic Red House, where PM Modi congratulated his counterpart on assuming office for the second time following her recent electoral victory and thanked her for the warm welcome accorded to him and his delegation.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of areas for potential cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, the Unified Payments Interface (UPI), capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties. Development cooperation remains a vital aspect of the India–Trinidad & Tobago partnership, both sides noted. Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar remarked that Prime Minister Modi’s visit would reinvigorate the long-standing relationship between the two nations.
Regional and global issues also featured in the talks, with both leaders calling for enhanced cooperation on shared challenges such as climate change, disaster management, and cybersecurity. PM Modi appreciated Trinidad & Tobago’s strong support for India following the recent Pahalgam terror attack, and the leaders reaffirmed their joint commitment to combat terrorism in all its forms. They also agreed to work together to promote greater solidarity among countries of the Global South and to strengthen the India–CARICOM partnership.
Following the discussions, both countries exchanged six Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) covering pharmacopoeia cooperation, Quick Impact Projects, cultural exchanges, sports, diplomatic training, and the establishment of ICCR Chairs for Hindi and Indian Studies in Trinidad & Tobago.
In a move to further deepen ties with the Indian diaspora, India also announced the extension of Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) card eligibility to the sixth generation of people of Indian origin living in Trinidad & Tobago.
PM Modi extended an invitation to Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar to visit India, which she accepted.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Friday met Trinidad & Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar in Port of Spain, where the two leaders held wide-ranging talks aimed at boosting cooperation in areas from agriculture and healthcare to digital payments and cultural exchanges.
he meeting took place at the historic Red House, where PM Modi congratulated his counterpart on assuming office for the second time following her recent electoral victory and thanked her for the warm welcome accorded to him and his delegation.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of areas for potential cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, the Unified Payments Interface (UPI), capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties. Development cooperation remains a vital aspect of the India–Trinidad & Tobago partnership, both sides noted. Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar remarked that Prime Minister Modi’s visit would reinvigorate the long-standing relationship between the two nations.
Regional and global issues also featured in the talks, with both leaders calling for enhanced cooperation on shared challenges such as climate change, disaster management, and cybersecurity. PM Modi appreciated Trinidad & Tobago’s strong support for India following the recent Pahalgam terror attack, and the leaders reaffirmed their joint commitment to combat terrorism in all its forms. They also agreed to work together to promote greater solidarity among countries of the Global South and to strengthen the India–CARICOM partnership.
Following the discussions, both countries exchanged six Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) covering pharmacopoeia cooperation, Quick Impact Projects, cultural exchanges, sports, diplomatic training, and the establishment of ICCR Chairs for Hindi and Indian Studies in Trinidad & Tobago.
In a move to further deepen ties with the Indian diaspora, India also announced the extension of Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) card eligibility to the sixth generation of people of Indian origin living in Trinidad & Tobago.
PM Modi extended an invitation to Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar to visit India, which she accepted.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Friday met Trinidad & Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar in Port of Spain, where the two leaders held wide-ranging talks aimed at boosting cooperation in areas from agriculture and healthcare to digital payments and cultural exchanges.
he meeting took place at the historic Red House, where PM Modi congratulated his counterpart on assuming office for the second time following her recent electoral victory and thanked her for the warm welcome accorded to him and his delegation.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of areas for potential cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, the Unified Payments Interface (UPI), capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties. Development cooperation remains a vital aspect of the India–Trinidad & Tobago partnership, both sides noted. Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar remarked that Prime Minister Modi’s visit would reinvigorate the long-standing relationship between the two nations.
Regional and global issues also featured in the talks, with both leaders calling for enhanced cooperation on shared challenges such as climate change, disaster management, and cybersecurity. PM Modi appreciated Trinidad & Tobago’s strong support for India following the recent Pahalgam terror attack, and the leaders reaffirmed their joint commitment to combat terrorism in all its forms. They also agreed to work together to promote greater solidarity among countries of the Global South and to strengthen the India–CARICOM partnership.
Following the discussions, both countries exchanged six Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) covering pharmacopoeia cooperation, Quick Impact Projects, cultural exchanges, sports, diplomatic training, and the establishment of ICCR Chairs for Hindi and Indian Studies in Trinidad & Tobago.
In a move to further deepen ties with the Indian diaspora, India also announced the extension of Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) card eligibility to the sixth generation of people of Indian origin living in Trinidad & Tobago.
PM Modi extended an invitation to Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar to visit India, which she accepted.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi on Friday met Trinidad & Tobago’s Prime Minister Kamla Persad-Bissessar in Port of Spain, where the two leaders held wide-ranging talks aimed at boosting cooperation in areas from agriculture and healthcare to digital payments and cultural exchanges.
he meeting took place at the historic Red House, where PM Modi congratulated his counterpart on assuming office for the second time following her recent electoral victory and thanked her for the warm welcome accorded to him and his delegation.
The two leaders discussed a wide range of areas for potential cooperation, including agriculture, healthcare and pharmaceuticals, digital transformation, the Unified Payments Interface (UPI), capacity building, culture, sports, and people-to-people ties. Development cooperation remains a vital aspect of the India–Trinidad & Tobago partnership, both sides noted. Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar remarked that Prime Minister Modi’s visit would reinvigorate the long-standing relationship between the two nations.
Regional and global issues also featured in the talks, with both leaders calling for enhanced cooperation on shared challenges such as climate change, disaster management, and cybersecurity. PM Modi appreciated Trinidad & Tobago’s strong support for India following the recent Pahalgam terror attack, and the leaders reaffirmed their joint commitment to combat terrorism in all its forms. They also agreed to work together to promote greater solidarity among countries of the Global South and to strengthen the India–CARICOM partnership.
Following the discussions, both countries exchanged six Memoranda of Understanding (MoUs) covering pharmacopoeia cooperation, Quick Impact Projects, cultural exchanges, sports, diplomatic training, and the establishment of ICCR Chairs for Hindi and Indian Studies in Trinidad & Tobago.
In a move to further deepen ties with the Indian diaspora, India also announced the extension of Overseas Citizen of India (OCI) card eligibility to the sixth generation of people of Indian origin living in Trinidad & Tobago.
PM Modi extended an invitation to Prime Minister Persad-Bissessar to visit India, which she accepted.
