Tania Aubid began her hunger strike on Valentine’s Day.

“Valentine’s Day is about love and having that love for your partner — but for me to have the love, I need to start from the ground up, which is Mother Earth,” Aubid told me. Her hunger strike is in protest of the Line 3 oil pipeline project that is being built in Minnesota.

Aubid is Anishinaabe, a term that refers to a group of Native tribes found in parts of Canada and the US, and comes from what she describes as “a little village called East Lake, Minnesota.” When I spoke to her, her hunger strike was on day 33. She’s surviving on “pretty much anything that’s liquid water,” including “nourishment tea from the Seneca nation, which heard about my hunger strike and sent some tea so I can drink,” Aubid said.

Aubid is one of the many Indigenous and climate activists protesting to try to convince President Joe Biden to cancel the Line 3 pipeline project, the way he canceled the Keystone XL with an executive order back in January.

The fight over the roughly 340-mile Line 3 pipeline expansion project, which when completed will transport 1 million barrels of tar sands oil per day from Alberta, Canada, across much of northern Minnesota to Superior, Wisconsin, has been heating up since December, when Enbridge, the Canadian multinational energy transportation company responsible for the project, began construction on the new portion of the pipeline.

Enbridge says the project will create thousands of jobs and pump billions of dollars into Minnesota’s economy. The company also said via email that it has done everything required under the law to receive approval for the pipeline and ensure it operates safely.

But Indigenous groups and climate activists say Line 3 poses a significant risk of oil spills that could destroy precious water resources, wetlands, and ancestral lands. Line 3 will have the equivalent climate impact of bringing 50 new coal plants online, according to one report.

At this point, the Line 3 project, which is actually a rerouting of an existing pipeline, would see the original pipeline abandoned and a more than 300-mile section laid through new Minnesota land, is about 50 percent complete. Enbridge will begin what it says is a planned pause on construction for two months beginning April 1.

In the meantime, there are both state and federal lawsuits challenging Enbridge’s permits, but activists are holding out hope that Biden will cancel the pipeline altogether.

Here’s what the Line 3 project would mean for the region, why Indigenous groups and climate activists are opposed to it, and what if anything can stop it from becoming operational later this year.

Line 3, briefly explained

First built in the 1960s, the current Line 3 crude oil pipeline stretches more than 1,000 miles from the tar sands of Alberta, Canada, through Minnesota, and on to Superior, Wisconsin, where it ends.

In 2014, citing corroded pipes and the demand for more oil, Enbridge began the designing and permitting process to reroute Line 3 farther south across more than 330 miles of northern Minnesota. The expansion would add a new pipeline corridor and double the amount of oil transported through the pipeline to 1 million barrels per day. The old pipeline has been operating at half capacity.

Enbridge says it has done the necessary work and received the necessary permits for the Line 3 replacement and that modifications have been made to minimize the pipeline’s environmental impact.

In an email to Vox, Enbridge spokesperson Juli Kellner said Line 3’s replacement is “the most studied pipeline project in Minnesota history [and] has been the subject of more than six years of science-based review by regulatory and permitting bodies.”

Kellner said the process included “more than 70 public hearings, a 13,500-page Environmental Impact Statement (EIS), four separate reviews by independent administrative law judges, and 320 route modifications in response to stakeholder input and reviews and approvals.”

Enbridge claims that, over two years, Line 3 will create 4,200 jobs in Minnesota, half of which will be for local union workers, and that it will provide a $2 billion jolt to the Minnesota economy during project design and construction. But according to the Star Tribune, so far only 33 percent of workers on Line 3 are from Minnesota.

Enbridge also argues that the Line 3 expansion is needed to safely deliver tar sands oil and prevent leaks, because otherwise that oil would travel by train.

“Line 3 is not like the Keystone XL pipeline. It already exists,” Enbridge’s Senior VP Mike Fernandez told CNN. But on this point, Fernandez is mistaken. The Keystone XL pipeline was also an extension of existing pipeline infrastructure, so Line 3 is in fact very much like Keystone XL.

And activists are arguing Biden should cancel Line 3, just as he canceled Keystone XL.

Concerns about oil spills, land impacts, and climate change are driving Indigenous-led opposition to Line 3

Opposition to Line 3’s new route stems from the risk of oil spills, disruption to the land, and its contribution to climate change.

Line 3 will deliver oil from Alberta’s tar sands — a thick, dense substance called bitumen — which is more expensive, more difficult, and even worse for the environment to extract than other forms of oil.

And if the oil spills, activists worry Enbridge won’t have the ability to clean it up. A 2016 report found that tar sands oil is much more difficult to clean up than non-tar sands oil.

Most of Alberta’s tar sands oil is trapped beneath the boreal forest, which means trees must be cleared for companies like Enbridge to get access to the oil. Once the forests are cleared, a lot of the tar sands oil requires in situ mining, in which hot steam is pumped underground to help liquefy the tar sands oil so it’s ready for extraction.

Once pulled from the ground, the trouble doesn’t end there: Throughout its lifetime, a gallon of gasoline made from tar sands oil emits 15 percent more carbon dioxide than one made from conventional oil, according to the Union of Concerned Scientists.

“It’s the spills — which always happen with pipelines. It’s the disruption itself of just the pipeline going into 800 wetlands, 200 bodies of water. Then there’s the climate change piece, emissions of this 50 coal plants, absolute insanity,” attorney Tara Houska of Couchiching First Nation, founder of the advocacy organization Giniw Collective, told CNN in a March 18 interview about the Line 3 project.

Concerns about oil spills are understandable. In 1991, the original Line 3 pipeline leaked 1.7 million gallons of crude oil into the nearby Prairie River in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. Luckily, it was the dead of winter and the river was covered by thick ice, which prevented the oil from entering and polluting the water used by millions of people downstream on the Mississippi River.

Activists say the 1991 spill is proof oil pipelines are too dangerous in Minnesota, but concerns about oil pipelines in the region don’t stop there.

In 2010, there was the Kalamazoo River Oil Spill in Michigan — the second-biggest inland oil spill in US history. Enbridge’s Line 6B pipeline ruptured, spilling more than 1 million gallons of crude oil into Talmadge Creek, which spread to the Kalamazoo River.

It took Enbridge 17 hours to notice the spill, raising concerns about whether the company could properly monitor its pipelines for leaks. Cleanup for the spill took years and ultimately cost Enbridge $1.2 billion.

Line 3 activists are concerned that the same or worse could happen along the more than 300 miles of proposed pipeline that would extend across bodies of water, wetlands, and wild rice beds in northern Minnesota.

Water is of particular concern to the Anishinaabe women who see themselves as responsible for protecting it.

“We consider water not a resource — not something to be bought or sold, but a living, thinking, sentient relative and the portal through which everything comes to life,” Simone Senogles, the Food Sovereignty Program coordinator at Indigenous Environmental Network, told me. For some, Senogles admits, “it can sound ‘New Age-y,’ but it’s not. It’s just a worldview that Anishinaabe have.”

“It’s a way that has allowed us to live in this place forever and not to have done harm the way colonizers have done,” Senogles said. “They’ve only been here 500 years and they’ve already screwed it up.”

The Line 3 extension would also cross through the Leech Lake and Fond Du Lac reservations — land where, according to the terms of an 1855 treaty, Ojibwe tribes have the right to gather, hunt, and fish. For this reason, Anishinaabe activists say the pipeline violates the terms of the treaty.

“What is spelled out in the treaty — the pipeline could pollute food sources, water sources, everything spelled out in the treaty what we as Anishinaabe people can do — hunt, fish, gather food, medicine. Line 3 goes against what we do spiritually as a people,” Aubid told me.

In her email, Enbridge’s Kellner said the company “has demonstrated ongoing respect for tribal sovereignty.” Citing negotiations with tribal leadership that led to routes that avoided reservations, Kellner said that “Both Leech Lake and Fond du Lac have spoken and written repeatedly in support of project permits.”

When asked about the tribes who agreed to Line 3’s expansion, Aubid says when faced with the decision, “the [tribal] leadership pretty much had a Sophie’s Choice type of deal: either this or that.”

Aubid also blamed some of the Native support for the pipeline on lateral violence, in which members of a marginalized group act in counterproductive ways that end up harming their community. “They try to speak for all Native communities which they do not have the right to do,” Aubid said of the members who approved Line 3.

But Aubid also stressed that when faced with the fact that there are already pipelines running through Minnesota reservations, it’s a case of “damned if they do, damned if they don’t.”

Beyond concerns about the land and water resources, a January 2020 report by 13 environmental groups found the proposed reroute of Line 3 would reverse any gains Minnesota has made in its fight against climate change.

The report estimated that the Line 3 expansion and the resultant doubling of its capacity would have the same impact on CO2 emissions as adding 50 new coal plants or 38 million additional gasoline vehicles to the road.

And each year the pipeline operates, it will release 193 million tons of harmful greenhouse gases — from oil extraction to burning — which is more than Minnesota released in all of 2016, according to the report.

Legal challenges could halt construction. So could President Biden.

Line 3 is currently facing legal challenges at both the state and federal level.

“There are very important concerns that have not been appropriately addressed by the state or the federal government — climate, issues concerning tribes and tribal citizens’ well-being, and water quality,” said Moneen Nasmith, staff attorney at Earth Justice, a nonprofit public interest environmental law organization.

Nasmith has been working on Line 3 litigation for several years and has worked closely with the Red Lake and White Earth tribes as well as Honor the Earth, a Native-led nonprofit environmental justice organization, and other local groups.

On March 23, oral arguments began in the first of two Minnesota state lawsuits. In that suit, the Minnesota Department of Commerce is joined by the Red Lake Band of Chippewa Indians, White Earth Band of Ojibwe, Honor the Earth, the Sierra Club, and other organizations in suing the Minnesota Public Utilities Commission. The lawsuit claims that oil demand does not justify the extension of Line 3 and that the oil spill analysis was improperly done.

Minnesota Public Utilities Commission executive secretary Will Seuffert said via email that the commission “extensively considered the impacts of climate change in making its decision, in particular Chapter 5 of the Environmental Impact Statement [which] addresses air quality, greenhouse gas emissions, and climate change issues.”

On the issue of tribal rights to the land, Seuffert said: “The Commission does recognize the Treaty of 1855. Several tribal nations participated in the proceedings, taking different and competing positions, and the Commission considered all of that input, and the Treaty of 1855, in making its decisions.”

Senogles, who attended the hearing, told me: “It was a pretty good hearing. The judges asked questions that gave me hope that they are understanding our argument and seeing what we’re trying to express.”

In the second state lawsuit, Friends of the Headwaters, the White Earth Band of Ojibwe, the Red Lake Band of Chippewa, the Sierra Club, and Honor the Earth argue that the Minnesota Pollution Control Agency, which has regulatory control, didn’t consider the long-term or climate impacts of the project.

Had they been properly considered, Nasmith told me, “there’d be no way for the project to proceed.”

At the federal level, the same five plaintiffs are challenging the Army Corps of Engineers for issuing the water permit for the project without doing a proper assessment of its environmental impact.

“If we were to win any of the cases, it would stop Line 3,” Nasmith said.

“We’ve had four administrative law reviews and we’ve gone through all this work with the US Army Corps of Engineers and the Bureau of Indian Affairs — it’s a little bit like the election, where we’ve gone through the entire process but people don’t want to accept that process,” Enbridge VP Fernandez said in a March 6 interview with PBS.

But those fighting against Line 3 aren’t convinced.

“There’s a lot of unjustified blind faith that this company that has a troubled track record, to say the least, will build and operate this pipeline in a way that is sufficiently protective of the waterways and wetlands that it’s crossing,” Nasmith said.

They’re not relying just on the lawsuits to stop the project, though. They’re calling on President Biden to stop the pipeline.

Legal experts told me the Biden administration could halt construction on Line 3 and make Enbridge apply for another permit that more fully considers the project’s potential impact on the environment, Indigenous rights to tribal lands, and climate change.

Back in August, when she was still president of the Natural Resources Defense Council, Biden’s domestic climate czar Gina McCarthy tweeted her support for “Indigenous leaders and climate activists in urging @GovTimWalz to oppose Enbridge’s Line 3 tar sands pipeline and protect Minnesotans’ health, water, and land.”

Now that she’s in the administration, though, it’s unclear whether McCarthy still supports opposing the pipeline. It’s also unclear what recently confirmed Secretary of the Interior Deb Haaland — a member of the Laguna Pueblo tribe in New Mexico and the first-ever Native American to be appointed to a Cabinet position — thinks about Line 3. Vox reached out to a representative from Haaland’s office for comment but did not receive a response as of time of publication.

The White House declined to comment on the record for this story. However, a spokesperson speaking on background told me that “President Biden has proposed transformative investments in infrastructure that will not only create millions of good union jobs but also help tackle the climate crisis.”

“The Biden-Harris Administration will evaluate infrastructure proposals based on our energy needs, their ability to achieve economy-wide net-zero emissions by 2050, and their ability to create good-paying union jobs,” the spokesperson added.

But the pressure on the Biden administration to act to stop Line 3 is growing.

Resistance on the ground has grown with the warmer temperatures. There are now multiple protest camps along Line 3’s expanded route, with activists committed to doing everything they can to get Biden to revoke the federal permit. Some protesters have been arrested while putting their bodies in the line of construction or simply for being in the area.

For Senogles, the experience of being arrested while defending the land is one she knows firsthand. She told me she spent a night in jail back in December after attending a protest against Line 3 at the Palisades site, one of the biggest protest camps.

“There was a boy sitting in a tree who had been there for 10 or 11 days and they were coming to take him down and we were all gathered there trying to get in the way,” Senogles said. “They arrested us, flopped us around a little bit, made us sit outside with our hands behind our backs in below-zero weather.”

“While we were still standing there, they just came, got him down, and tore down the tree while we were still standing there — that’s how fast they work,” she said.

For her part, Aubid is staked out about two football fields away from the Mississippi River, where she’s watching Enbridge to make sure they don’t start drilling. When asked what would cause her to stop her hunger strike, Aubid replied: “When they shut down Line 3.”

But while Aubid is determined to continue her protest, she’s not letting it get in the way of her participation in traditions.

“Right now, we’re in our maple sugar season time. We’re boiling down maple sap into maple syrup and maple sugar. Those are the things we do as Ojibwe people,” Aubid said. “Life goes on as we are fighting this pipeline up here.”

Correction, August 17: A previous version of this story misstated the amount of crude oil leaked in the original Line 3 pipeline spill and the Kalamazoo River spill. For Line 3 it was 1.7 million gallons; for Kalamazoo it was 1 million gallons.

Click Here:

North Korea’s second missile test in a week is increasing the pressure on President Joe Biden to respond, inching the nuclear-armed state further up the administration’s long list of global challenges to address.

Officials in the US, South Korea, and Japan announced that North Korea had launched two short-range ballistic missiles at around 7 am local time Thursday (Wednesday evening in America). The missiles flew nearly 40 miles high and traveled around 280 miles, landing harmlessly in the Sea of Japan, outside Japan’s exclusive economic zone, which is considered an extension of the country’s sovereignty out into the waters.

This test was far more provocative than North Korea’s test of two cruise missiles this past weekend. That launch did not violate UN Security Council resolutions, whereas Thursday’s test, which involved ballistic missiles, did. Further, the cruise missiles fired over the weekend plunged in the Yellow Sea to the west of the Korean Peninsula; the missiles on Thursday were fired eastward — in the direction of one of Washington’s regional friends.

Why is North Korea suddenly testing all these missiles?

Experts are split. One potential reason is that North Korean leader Kim Jong Un wants to slowly ratchet up pressure on Biden and get his attention.

“North Korea usually begins its new military threats-cum-psychological warfare cycle through graduated escalation,” Sung-Yoon Lee, an expert on Pyongyang’s politics at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, told me.

“The apparent start of the new cycle means Kim Jong Un, having determined that the heady days of summit pageantry with Donald Trump are over, needs to re-weaponize his weirdness,” he added.

In other words, the North Korean leader wants the tests to bother Biden so much that the US engages in some kind of diplomacy with North Korea to stop the launches. Once at the negotiating table, Pyongyang would seek an end to US sanctions on the country before agreeing to dismantle (at least some parts of) its nuclear program, while Washington would push for the opposite — North Korea first verifiably dismantling at least some parts of its nuclear program before the US lifts any sanctions.

That broad standoff has plagued US-North Korean relations for decades, but it’s particularly irksome to Kim right now. The sanctions hurt his country’s economy, which the dictator has promised to improve, and are especially biting during the Covid-19 pandemic. His new round of testing, then, is a message to the White House: End the sanctions, or America’s relations with North Korea are about to get a lot more tense.

“With the United States hinting that it will seek to tighten the sanctions regime, North Korea will be looking to expand its arsenal by ramping up testing,” said Jean Lee, director of the Korea program at the Wilson Center think tank in Washington, DC.

The other potential explanation experts gave me for the recent tests has less to do with the US and more to do with simply improving North Korea’s military capabilities.

“These launches are not a cry for attention, nor are they a cry for help with North Korea’s broken economy. Such launches are a sign of North Korea’s clear determination to continue advancing its ballistic-missile programs as part of making good on the ambitious plans for North Korea’s weapons programs,” said Markus Garlauskas, the US national intelligence officer for North Korea from 2014 to 2020.

Getting stronger militarily, after all, was a promise Kim made to top North Korean officials and his people during a January meeting. “If these [launches] go unchecked by the international community, this is likely to lead to launches of bigger and more capable systems, including those capable of carrying multiple nuclear warheads,” added Garlauskas, who is now at the Atlantic Council think tank in DC.

Whatever the reason, though, it’s important to note that Kim could have chosen to be even more aggressive than he has been.

North Korea’s tests are troubling, but it could have been much worse

North Korea has many more powerful weapons it could test, namely big new intercontinental ballistic missiles (ICBMs), or even a nuclear device. Testing any of those would surely lead to a more forceful reaction by the Biden administration.

Experts say such a brazen move isn’t likely any time soon. Instead, Pyongyang has two goals in mind with these lower-level tests. First, the tests simply let Kim check to make sure the weapons actually work as intended. Second, avoiding testing the flashier weapons helps keep tensions from spiraling out of control even as they ratchet up. In effect, the tests are partly calibrated to get Biden’s attention but not draw his ire.

The question now is how Biden will react. Trump implicitly made a deal with North Korea while he was in office: Test anything you want as long as it’s not an ICBM or a nuclear weapon that could threaten America.

But some experts suspect Biden won’t be as forgiving. We may get a clue to his thinking on Thursday during a highly anticipated press conference, where reporters in the White House briefing will likely ask him his thoughts on the tests. If not, the administration says it’s in the final stages of its North Korea policy review, and national security adviser Jake Sullivan is expected to discuss its outcomes with his Japanese and South Korean counterparts.

We’re nearing the start of the next stage in the decades-long saga between the US and North Korea. Pyongyang just wanted to make sure to get a word in before it begins and catch the new administration off guard.

“As Mike Tyson said, ‘Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth,’” Fletcher’s Lee told me.

Click Here:

“In Guam, even the dead are dying,” Chamorro author and activist Julian Aguon writes in his new book The Properties of Perpetual Light.

Aguon, a human rights lawyer and founder of Blue Ocean Law, has watched with anguish as his home island, along with the rest of the Marianas archipelago, has been environmentally degraded due to growing militarization. Known as Guåhan to its residents, Guam has been a US territory since 1898, and today, the Department of Defense occupies roughly 30 percent of its land — a share that’s only growing.

Most recently, the Pentagon decided to relocate roughly 5,000 Marines from Japan to Guam as part of a larger realignment of US military forces in the Asia-Pacific region. Meanwhile, the ongoing construction of the newest US Marine base, Camp Blaz, is nearing completion, despite major opposition from the island’s local residents. Further aggravating Guam’s native Chamorro people, military officials last summer found human remains and cultural artifacts dating back to the island’s pre-colonial Latte period during the excavation of the land, as they seemingly broke ground on ancient villages.

Guam’s pristine northern coastline has also recently been impacted by the construction of a massive firing range complex, which is an extension of the Marine base. It not only sits atop numerous historical sites, but it’s also dangerously near the island’s primary source of drinking water and would gravely damage the island’s natural resources and biodiversity — including more than 1,000 acres of native limestone forest and species, such as Guam’s slender-toed gecko.

On top of this, and in concert with a pandemic that’s taken the lives of hundreds of native Pacific Islanders, Aguon’s book comes at a time when Indigenous Chamorro people face growing erasure. Many Americans still don’t know that people born on the island are US citizens — citizens who enlist in and die serving the military at a higher rate per capita than anyone in the country yet cannot vote in US elections. In fact, earlier this month, QAnon espouser Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene (R-GA) called Guam a “foreign country” that shouldn’t receive American tax dollars.

As such, Pacific Islander authors and their perspectives in literature are hard to come by, which Aguon hopes to change by inspiring future generations to challenge the dominant framework that centers white experiences and make their own art to take up space. While Aguon does not settle on one structure in The Properties of Perpetual Light — going from prose to poetry to political commentary — the common thread is grief, which he uses to talk about climate change; the colonial history and rampant US militarization of the Pacific Islands; and the generational trauma that’s been passed down for centuries. But he also finds power in hope.

“There’s so much beauty,” Aguon told Vox. “And as I say in the end [of the book], ‘A human being is here to be enjoyed, like a sunset or tangerine. We’re not oxen, we’re not here to endlessly plow the earth.’ We’re more than our suffering.”

As someone born and raised in the Northern Mariana Islands, a US territory just north of Guam, I talked to Aguon about home, his new book, and the need for more Pacific Islander representation in the literary world and beyond. Our conversation has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.

Rachel Ramirez

First, I want to talk about the title, The Properties of Perpetual Light. In the book, which at its core is about loss, you reference the prayer we say for the dead during rosaries in the islands: “Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord — and let perpetual light shine upon them.” Then later you write, “Perpetual Light is the Ancient Beauty.” Tell me more about what “perpetual light” means to you.

Julian Aguon

The whole book is really a process of interrogation, really interrogating the language that we use. The Catholic prayer for the dead — as I say in the introduction, I’ve recited those words thousands of times. But it is only in compiling this manuscript that I really reflected on their meaning. As kids on Guam, we’re always coming back from somebody’s rosary. It’s so common. We memorize these things, but we don’t necessarily really dive deep or interrogate the meaning of those words.

In the same way that the earth metals have different properties, what about their spiritual counterparts? I thought of hope and faith, but this idea of perpetual light has always spoken to me. We know from the Bible, the only thing to perceive light is love, and I was like, wow, that’s such a powerful idea. Our love brings things into being. To me, when we’re saying this prayer, we are sort of offering up the only thing we have, which is our love to light the way of the people we’ve lost, and this book has a lot of loss in it.

Rachel Ramirez

Being from the Mariana Islands myself, I know how rare it is to find a book written by a Chamorro author, or even a native Pacific Islander author, or even a book about the islands. Why was writing this book so significant to you as an Indigenous activist, lawyer, and author?

Julian Aguon

We need artists more than we believe we do, especially in hard times. 2020 was exceedingly difficult for so many of us. Here on Guam, the pain and trauma of living in the reality of a militarized colony really became very clear in an almost palpable way — you could feel it in the air that we breathe. For example, US military personnel last March came off of these ships, came into the community, infecting the community, violating numerous executive orders, local ordinances, running around — and I was just like wow, this is really symbolic of a larger thing that’s happening. All of these really deep, longstanding, entrenched inequalities were really laid bare for the whole world to see, and it really made us realize so much of what we think is an illusion.

I’ve been influenced by so many writers with different writing traditions. In the islands, we take so much information, but we don’t have enough of our own locally produced literature. I want this book to burn our illusion about certain things, and really dive deep into the pain, and to really explore, walk around, and fill the walls of the cave. As a community, I really feel like we were avoiding these really painful conversations. I want this book to blow all of that wide open.

Rachel Ramirez

Relatedly, I want to touch on invisibility. As a kid growing up on Saipan, I never saw our home islands as something largely unnoticed by the world, nor did I realize that not many people knew we were US citizens. It wasn’t until I moved to the mainland US that I really started to understand that there were misconceptions and a dearth of knowledge. Can you speak to this invisibility, particularly the indigeneity of Pacific Islanders who often don’t see themselves represented in literature?

Julian Aguon

With this book, in some ways, I was trying to cultivate in the reader a sense of respect for small things. What Arundhati Roy would call the “the whisper and scurry of small lives” — that’s partly what gets rendered invisible so often.

When I wrote the chapter “Yugu Means Yoke,” I had just lost my father from pancreatic cancer. My nuclear family was falling spectacularly apart. And I was just alone on a red dirt mountain, and I had to find my way in the world with so little guidance in that particular moment. In some ways, you could say I learned empathy from insects. I was just curious about these small lives. I was wondering if these snails could ever evade their predators. I was paying attention to how slowly they moved and really wanting them to move swiftly enough to save their own lives — and wanting the same thing for myself, even without knowing that. I was a young child growing up and would soon be struggling with being Indigenous and queer and questing or searching for oneself.

Diving into and understanding literature, I found that good books are lighthouses, that they light the way when we’re alone. I want this book to be that little lighthouse for the young readers who are also navigating really difficult terrain. Books are lighthouses, but they’re also mirrors in which our faces do or do not appear. I wanted young people from the Marianas or even the wider Micronesian islands to be able to read this book and see a piece of themselves in it, and also inspire them to write their own books or call out the art that’s just latent in them.

Rachel Ramirez

The way you used grief and trauma throughout the book as a theme to highlight issues that haunt native Pacific Islanders and the islands is profound. There’s your dad’s passing as you mentioned, but also human remains that were found during the military buildup excavation. Was this approach something that was intentional from the beginning before you started putting together the book?

Julian Aguon

I would actually be lying if I said that it was premeditated. The book sort of revealed itself to me while I was writing it because I didn’t really have an agenda or a plan. With all the noise of 2020 and isolation and suffering in every corner, I was just writing because I couldn’t not write. I was thinking about loss and processing it and I thought about how it all started with my first major loss, which is the loss of my father.

Most people use or handle grief in such a way that has an isolating effect. It cuts us off from other people. This book does exactly the opposite: It uses grief, but it tries to bring it into the heart of the village. It brings people together. I tried to use grief, in some ways, in an Islander way. Our funerals back home are deeply sad like everyone else’s, you know this, but they’re also oddly celebratory. They’re like parties. We’re celebrating the life that one has lived, and the only way to grieve the enormity of certain kinds of loss is to grieve it together. This book is an invitation to do that, and that’s the one aspect of it that made it quite special to me.

Rachel Ramirez

I’m really curious about how you didn’t settle with just one structure in the book. You used prose, poetry, political commentary, as the chapter changes. For me, it allowed room for processing and understanding what all that grief meant. In one chapter you talk about the time Guam made headlines because of the threat from North Korea, the next you talk about something personal about your father, then you get into a poem. What inspired you to write it that way?

Julian Aguon

A good book can be like a record or like a music album with different notes — and you’re hitting the listener in different places. They do range in form like prose and poetry, but they also range in occasions. There’s eulogies marking an actual death versus commencement speeches to young people who are about to step into the world as it actually is, not as they wish it to be. It’s almost like a kaleidoscope of life experiences. I tried to meet readers where they’re actually at no matter where that is in the spectrum of life. What you’re getting into with the switching up of the medium or the styles, is that it’s in some ways like this collage, right? It’s like a lovely mess, but life is a lovely mess. Part of my playing around with some of the structure was about that, and on the other hand, playing around with the structure is also because I think you can only say certain things in certain ways. Poetry does something that the other styles can’t.

At the end, for example, I’ve just said many things, and I ended with this poem, which was about a flower. It’s just a simple poem about a flower, but about our respect for strength, as opposed to power. I feel like that is such a theme in the book, and I wanted to leave the reader with this impossibly gentle image of this flower, thriving in such rugged and hostile territory. Not only because it’s about an appreciation of beauty, or an announcement of the presence of the beautiful, but also because it’s primarily about an insistence on it, paying attention to small things. The book is not prescriptive. I’m not prescribing the answer. I’m not answering a question. Rather, I’m just enlarging the question.

Rachel Ramirez

I remember attending a panel of UN delegates from Guåhan at New York University in 2019, and the panelists asked the room something to the effect of, “When you hear Guam, what do you think of?” Then immediately there was a chorus of the words “island” and “military.” What can you say about this outside perception, which in a sense conceals the growing issue of climate or militarization in Micronesia?

Julian Aguon

I think it has something to do with what Toni Morrison would have described as writing beyond the white gaze — and in my book, I was trying to stretch that analogy and write beyond the colonial gaze, not what outsiders see. There’s so much beauty, and as I say in the end, “A human being is here to be enjoyed, like a sunset or tangerine. We’re not oxen, we’re not here to endlessly plow the earth.” We’re more than our suffering.

Click Here:

Part of what happens is this standard narrative gets cast and that account shows we’re suffering and we’re fighting this largest military buildup in recent history — all of that is true; we are on course to becoming one of the most militarized places on earth — but it is also true that we come from wayfinders, that we have such rich, spiritual and intellectual sources or knowledge to draw upon. Our homeland is so beautiful. I mean, it’s arresting. So it also is important to highlight what we’re fighting for — the beauty and the richness and the diversity.

Rachel Ramirez

Speaking of beauty, you also center and highlight women a lot — from the chapter “My Mother’s Bamboo Bracelets,” where you told a story about a group of women weaving their hair together to build a giant net to save the island from being eaten by a giant fish, to “Fighting Words,” about your grandmother surviving a traumatic event. Why was deploying that feminist insight such an important theme?

Julian Aguon

There are definitely several feminist currents swimming throughout the book. There’s “the personal is political,” which is a quintessential feminist insight. There’s also the beautiful celebration of defiant people and writers who swam so squarely against the tide. And I have been nourished by Black feminism and other theories of liberation, which have clearly impacted me and my work.

That’s also where we come from in Guam and in many of our Micronesian islands. We are matrilineal. Originally, for example, the land tenure was passed on the mother’s side or that Chamorro women didn’t use to take their husband’s name. We organized our society based along those lines. That’s naturally where I gravitate to. And in my personal life, my father died very early so my mother raised me, along with random amazing women, mostly women of color, who showed up in my life and nourished me and nurtured me and taught me and instructed me as my life progressed.

Rachel Ramirez

I want to close with what’s probably the most basic question. Even though grief is an overarching theme of your book, you also talk about light and hope. Where do you find hope?

Julian Aguon

I don’t think the two — grief and hope — are really disconnected. I think we need to have a deeper understanding of hope. Hope is earned. You have to put in the work. On the ground, when you’re in community with other people and you’re trying to build power, there is nothing like that. That it’s a high that can barely be explained because you’re all together and you realize you’re moved by your shared fate. You realize that our fates are intertwined.

I’ve never felt more robustly alive than when I’m in community with other people who believe that they can change the world. Solidarity and community-building and building power in and across our communities is the work we have to do.

President Joe Biden all but said during his first formal press conference on Thursday that the United States would likely extend its 20-year military campaign in Afghanistan for at least a few more months beyond the May 1 withdrawal deadline set by the Trump administration’s agreement with the Taliban.

That’s his prerogative, of course. But some experts and advocates of withdrawing say his stated reason for keeping US troops in harm’s way for a while longer — that in terms of sheer logistics, it would be hard to pull the remaining 3,500 US troops out the country by that date — is weak.

Biden’s predecessor Donald Trump made a deal with the Taliban requiring all American service members to leave Afghanistan at the start of May. If they don’t withdraw by then, the insurgents will end a months-long moratorium on targeting US troops, potentially adding to the 2,400 Americans already killed in the war since 2001.

The choice facing Biden was always a tough one: Abide by the Trump-era agreement and leave by May 1 — risking the Taliban’s hostile takeover of the country as soon as the US departs and the reversal of progress on women’s and children’s rights that would inevitably follow; or violate the agreement and stay in order to pressure the Taliban to strike a peace deal with the Afghan government, risking more dead American service members in the meantime.

Neither is a great option, which may explain why Biden seems to have chosen a sort of muddled middle path: withdraw, but likely later this year — and make it look less like a strategic decision about the US’s role in the country’s peace process going forward and more like merely a function of logistical realities on the ground.

“It’s going to be hard to meet the May 1 deadline,” Biden said during the press conference. “Just in terms of tactical reasons, it’s hard to get those troops out.”

“If we leave, we’re going to do so in a safe and orderly way,” he continued, though he also said he “can’t picture” US troops still being in Afghanistan next year.

But while there are legitimate logistical challenges to pulling out US troops by that tight deadline, some experts I spoke to aren’t convinced that’s what’s really driving Biden’s foot-dragging.

Most analysts and even top congressional Democrats acknowledge that, at this point, the US can’t withdraw from Afghanistan safely by May 1, even if Biden were to order that today.

The main problem isn’t removing the service members themselves, but rather all of their equipment, from the landlocked country. America and its allies could leave things like vehicles and guns behind as part of a hurried exit, but then the Taliban or other terrorist groups could use them for their purposes.

“It takes a while to do [this] methodically and well,” said Jonathan Schroden, an expert on the war at the CNA think tank in Arlington, Virginia.

But some experts and advocates for withdrawal cite two reasons for why Biden’s rationale rings hollow.

First, the timing: “If what he wanted was the fastest possible out, that could have been the order in January,” said Andrew Watkins, the International Crisis Group’s senior analyst for Afghanistan.

Simply put, the administration is surely aware of how long a safe withdrawal takes. Biden, then, effectively made the decision to keep troops in the country beyond the deadline by not making a decision until he’d passed the point where that was possible.

Second, some say that despite its harsh rhetoric demanding “all foreign troops…withdraw on the specific date,” the Taliban probably wouldn’t consider it a violation of the agreement and start targeting American troops even if the US hadn’t gotten every last person or piece of equipment out of the country by May 1, as long as Biden had announced his order to withdraw and it was genuinely underway.

“I don’t think the Taliban are going to say ‘gotcha!’” Alexander McCoy, political director of the anti-intervention and veterans group Common Defense, tweeted after Biden’s Thursday statements.

Put together, experts say Biden’s case to the nation for why the US should remain in Afghanistan a little longer doesn’t hold up. Biden’s true intention, they divine, is that the president and his team believe their long-shot push for a diplomatic solution to the 20-year war requires prolonging America’s military presence.

Biden likely wants a limited Afghanistan extension to see his diplomatic effort through

Earlier this month, the Biden administration watched as two of their secret Afghanistan documents leaked to the public, revealing their behind-the-scenes push for a peace agreement between the Taliban and the Afghan government.

The first was a strongly worded letter from Secretary of State Antony Blinken to Afghan President Ashraf Ghani. In it, Blinken said the US planned to ask the United Nations to bring together nations with interests in Afghanistan — the US, Russia, China, Iran, Pakistan, and India — to hash out what each party would like to see in a peace deal.

“It is my belief that these countries share an abiding common interest in a stable Afghanistan and must work together if we are to succeed,” the secretary wrote.

Biden referenced this effort during the Thursday press conference: “There’s a UN-led process that’s beginning shortly on how to mechanically get people — how to end this war.”

Further, Blinken’s letter said the US planned to ask Turkey to host “a senior-level meeting of both sides in the coming weeks to finalize a peace agreement.” That meeting, scheduled for April in Istanbul, sounded like a new version of the US-brokered 2001 Bonn conference that appointed a transitional government in Afghanistan.

The second leaked document was a list of guiding principles meant to address the concerns and demands of both the government in Kabul and the Taliban. They included making Islam Afghanistan’s official religion, and ensuring the constitution guaranteed the protection of women’s rights and the rights of children, among many others.

All of that was important, experts said at the time, but the timeline was a problem. It would be nearly impossible to get all the countries involved to agree on a way forward in Afghanistan — let alone get Kabul and the Taliban to agree on terms — by May 1. Processes like that take many months in the best of cases.

As a result, some experts said that if a diplomatic solution is the goal, Biden needs to keep US troops in Afghanistan a while longer to signal continued American commitment to the peace process.

“If extending US troops beyond May 1 promotes the recent diplomatic initiatives, especially the Istanbul conference and the increased role of the UN, then it may prove worthwhile,” said retired Army Lt. Gen. Douglas Lute, who served as a top Afghanistan official in the White Houses of Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama.

This is why most experts I spoke to believe Biden’s decision to extend America’s military mission is about diplomacy, not military logistics.

Withdrawing US troops now would remove the Biden administration’s primary source of leverage over the Taliban and the Afghan government, and show foreign nations the US wants a role in the country’s future. By staying longer, Biden can try to see the diplomatic push through to its hopeful end.

So why didn’t Biden just say that during the press conference?

Some experts said the US may still be working to agree to an extension with the Taliban, and openly stating America will remain beyond May 1 to keep the insurgents at the table wouldn’t play well until there’s an understanding. Plus, citing logistical concerns might draw less backlash from the American public than extending the military presence in search of an unlikely peace deal.

That, it seems, is Biden’s true play here. Whether or not it pays off could be a defining moment of the president’s first year of foreign policy.

Click Here:

Click:2 ATA Hyperbaric Chamber For Sale

As the world careens toward a climate catastrophe, the biggest banks in the world are still financing fossil fuels in the trillions of dollars.

That’s according to a recently released report by a cohort of environmental groups including the Rainforest Action Network and the Sierra Club, titled “Banking on Climate Chaos.” The report found that the 60 biggest private banks in the world have financed $3.8 trillion in fossil fuels in the five years since the Paris climate agreement was signed in 2016.

Although 2020 saw a global drop in demand and production due to the coronavirus pandemic, and fossil fuel financing fell 9 percent, the amount spent on fossil fuel extraction projects last year was still more than in 2016 — which means that the practices of the world’s largest banks are fundamentally at odds with the 2016 Paris target of limiting global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius.

Fossil fuel companies have a couple of avenues for generating capital for their projects. The most common one is to go to a bank for a loan; the other is to sell stock or offer a chunk of future profits — but either way, they need a bank’s help.

Which means that banks have a major role to play in moving the world away from dirty fossil fuels and toward less polluting forms of energy — but only if they choose to do so. And based on the findings of the “Banking on Climate Chaos” report, most are very clearly not choosing to do so.

And though America led the charge in negotiating the Paris agreement more than five years ago, the report found that the four worst banks in the world for fossil fuel financing were all based in the United States.

JPMorgan Chase was the world’s worst “fossil bank,” contributing $51.3 billion in fossil fuel financing last year alone, and a total of $317 billion from 2016 to 2020.

That’s 33 percent more than the second-worst, Citibank, which spent $48.4 billion last year and a total of $237 billion since 2016. Wells Fargo came in third, with $26 billion in 2020, though the report notes that the bank’s fossil fuel financing actually fell by 42 percent in 2020. Bank of America ranked fourth, spending nearly $200 billion in the past five years.

If you add Morgan Stanley at No. 12 in the world and Goodman Sachs at No. 15, “that’s almost a third of bank financing for fossil fuels” coming from the United States, Jason Disterhoft, fossil finance expert at the Rainforest Action Network and one of the report’s author’s, told me.

Because US banks are an outsize part of the fossil fuel funding problem, they must be an outsize part of the solution to address climate change. “The US cannot credibly call itself a global climate leader so long as its banks are driving climate change to this extent, with no plans to phase out that activity,” Disterhoft added.

As a part of its all-of-government approach to attacking the climate crisis, the Biden administration plans to involve the Treasury Department in efforts to end international financing of fossil-fuel-based energy sources.

“It’s the first time we’re seeing an administration sketch out what an agenda in this space looks like,” Disterhoft said.

But banks in other countries have work to do, too.

France’s BNP Paribas was the worst in the European Union. It spent $41 billion to finance fossil fuels in 2020 — a 41 percent increase from 2019. Japan’s MUFG was the worst in Asia, and sixth-worst overall.

No South American or African banks made the list of the world’s 60 biggest banks.

Where’s the money’s going?

The report includes several case studies that show the impact big banks financing fossil fuels has on communities around the world that are disproportionately impacted by a climate crisis they largely didn’t create.

Citibank was named the worst bank for “funding the expanders” — that is, for funding the top 100 companies that are expanding their use of fossil fuels. One of those companies is the Canada-based energy transportation company Enbridge, whose Line 3 oil pipeline expansion is facing fierce opposition from Indigenous groups in Minnesota.

China’s CNOOC Limited and France’s Total — two of the world’s largest oil and gas companies — have been financing the East African Crude Oil Pipeline, which would carry 216,000 barrels of crude oil per day from Uganda to Tanzania.

If completed, it would become the world’s longest heated pipeline and would blast over 33 million tons of planet-warming CO2 into the air — more emissions than are currently produced by the two countries combined.

And in yet another case, BP, Shell, ConocoPhillips, and Equinor are supporting fracking in Argentina’s Vaca Muerta oil and gas reserves in Patagonia. Although Indigenous communities are opposed to the project, big banks have been providing millions in subsidies to oil and gas companies interested in developing the region, which would have catastrophic impacts on global warming.

Click Here:

Ahead of this year’s UN Climate Change Conference, the pressure on the world’s largest banks is now twofold: stop funding companies that are expanding their use of fossil fuels, and agree to phase out financing for fossil fuel projects in alignment with limiting warming to 1.5 degrees C.

The Biden administration has officially committed to Covax, the global effort to fund and deliver Covid-19 vaccines around the world, including to lower-income countries.

The administration will commit $4 billion to Covax, releasing the first $2 billion immediately to Gavi, the Vaccine Alliance, which is one of the partners in this effort along with the World Health Organization and the Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations (CEPI). Another $2 billion will follow over the next two years, an effort to spur other countries to contribute more money.

The announcement came during President Joe Biden’s attendance at the Group of Seven (G7) meeting of the world’s biggest economies, where the pandemic is at the top of the agenda and where others, including the United Kingdom, have made similar commitments to help global vaccination efforts.

The Biden administration had announced last month that it would join Covax, another example of the White House’s larger recommitment to international cooperation. President Donald Trump had declined to join, one of a few notable holdouts in an initiative that now has more than 190 countries participating.

Congress, however, had set aside $4 billion for Gavi in its December spending bill, which is the money Biden is using for this announcement.

The US announcement also came on the heels of British Prime Minister Boris Johnson pledging to donate the UK’s surplus vaccines. The president of the European Commission (the European Union’s executive branch) also said Friday that the EU is doubling its Covax contribution to $1 billion.

All of these commitments are welcome news, and will make up for real funding shortfalls in the purchase of vaccine doses. At the same time, though, many of these wealthier countries are also racing to inoculate their own populations, securing doses for their citizens at all costs and purchasing far more doses than they need, while the rest of the world, especially lower-income countries, lags very far behind.

About one-quarter of the world’s population, mostly in lower- and middle-income countries, may not have access to vaccinations until 2022 — a precarious situation that could give new variants a chance to emerge and that could extend the pandemic for everyone.

This is a good first step, but “vaccine nationalism” is still the order of the day

The COVID-19 Vaccine Global Access Facility, or Covax, was designed as a financing instrument to ensure all countries — wealthy and less-wealthy alike — have equitable access to a vaccine. Higher-income countries contribute to the fund, pooling their resources to invest in several different vaccine candidates and fund free vaccine doses to 92 lower-income countries.

The perk for higher- and middle-income countries is that they increase their odds of landing a successful vaccine; these collective investments would also ideally lower the cost of doses. And, of course, priority groups like health care workers and the elderly would get early access to the vaccine in lower-income countries, easing the worst toll of the pandemic.

The idea was born out of the lessons learned from the 2009 swine flu pandemic, when rich countries bought up all the vaccines and immunized their populations, and only then donated to other countries, at which point the worst of the pandemic had passed.

A version of this is happening now, just on a more dramatic scale. In January, more than 80 million Covid-19 vaccine doses had been distributed around the world, while only 55 doses had gone to people in low-income countries. The pace has picked up since then, but vaccinations have only started in 87 countries, the bulk of them happening in higher- and middle-income countries.

Even though many rich countries joined Covax and pledged funds, most still made individual pre-purchase agreements with pharmaceutical companies to bet on promising vaccines and secure their own doses.

Rich countries — with 14 percent of the world’s population — have bought up more than 53 percent of the vaccines most likely to be successful. An analysis from ONE campaign, an international anti-poverty group, said the United States has an estimated 453 million excess Covid-19 vaccine doses, or what would be left over after every eligible person in the US has at least two shots.

Click Here:

But that doesn’t mean the US or any other country has millions of doses just hanging around; right now, demand still exceeds supply. Richer countries, because of these procurement deals, are very often at the front of the line, and their ability to make huge purchases also can drive up the cost of doses.

All of this has meant that lower-income countries are struggling to even begin vaccination campaigns, if they’ve started at all. Covax has set the goal of delivering 2 billion vaccines to poor countries by the end of 2021, with deliveries happening in the first quarter of this year, most of which will begin in March.

An estimate by the Economist Intelligence Unit suggests some lower-income countries won’t really be able to achieve widespread vaccination coverage until about 2023. In the United States, by comparison, it may be this summer.

Additional funds for Covax are important, as it will allow Covax to enter into more agreements with vaccine makers and deliver more doses. But as Vox’s Julia Belluz reported last month, the bilateral vaccine deals have already undermined Covax.

Rich countries “want to have it both ways,” Georgetown global health law professor Lawrence Gostin told Belluz. “They join Covax so they could proclaim to be good global citizens, and at the same time rob Covax of its lifeblood, which is vaccine doses.”

The United Nations has called on richer countries to donate vaccine supplies, but other than Norway, few have said whether they’d do it while still trying to inoculate populations at home. The United Kingdom has said it would donate surplus supply, but didn’t give a timeline. According to CNN, the Biden administration is looking to donate doses once “there is sufficient supply in the US.”

French President Emmanuel Macron said in a recent interview with the Financial Times that the EU and the US should set aside 5 percent of their current Covid-19 vaccine supplies and get them to poorer countries “very fast, so that people on the ground see it happening.”

But neither the EU — which recently took dramatic steps to try to secure more vaccine doses for its own struggling campaign — nor the US seems ready to make those moves, despite rivals like China and Russia making a show of “vaccine diplomacy” by sending their own doses to countries in Africa and Latin America.

Beyond delivering doses, rich countries could also do more to build up manufacturing and production capacity in lower-income countries and to pressure pharmaceutical companies to potentially waive intellectual property rights to better share knowledge and technology.

The United States and its allies putting leadership and money behind such efforts is a public health necessity. The globe can’t recover from the pandemic, or the economic crisis it created, unless the rest of the world joins richer countries in getting closer to herd immunity.

The United States and its partners making greater commitments to Covax and other global vaccine efforts is a real and important step toward these efforts. But it’s just the first.

Facebook’s sudden move on Wednesday to cut Australians off from the news (and the rest of the world from Australian news) was as surprising as it was draconian. It blocked Australians from sharing any news links, Australian news publications from hosting their content on the platform, and the rest of us from sharing links to Australian news sites. It also may be a preview of how the platform will respond to the almost-certain future attempts to regulate its business — not just in Australia, but all over the world.

Now that we’ve had a few days to see how it’s played out, it seems like the general consensus from media experts is that no one is a winner here, but Facebook at least has a point. Many experts also just don’t like the proposed Australian law that inspired Facebook’s move. So while Facebook was right to balk at the law, the way it went about registering its objection was too abrupt, clumsy, and potentially harmful.

By also demonstrating the sizable role the platform plays in keeping users informed, Facebook is taking what could be a huge gamble. On one hand, it could prompt the Australian government to come up with a law that Facebook prefers so that it’ll reverse the news block — the outcome Facebook almost certainly prefers, other than there being no new law at all. But the situation could just as easily prove just how much market power Facebook has. This, in turn, might make the case for regulations to check Facebook’s power that much stronger.

The News Media and Digital Platforms Mandatory Bargaining Code — which is currently making its way through the Australian parliament and will likely pass before its session ends on February 25 — will require Facebook and Google to negotiate payment agreements with news organizations if they allow users to share news content on their respective platforms. If they don’t, an arbiter will figure out a payment agreement for them. Google and Facebook initially threatened to pull their services from the country if the law were to pass, but, as that passage looked more and more likely, their responses were very different. Google started making deals with publications. Facebook, “with a heavy heart,” cut the country off at the knees by banning news outlets altogether.

Australians suddenly found themselves unable to share news links on their timelines, and publications found their pages essentially wiped of content. There was a global impact as well: Australians couldn’t share international news links, as international news publications were blocked in the country just like the native ones.

The ban didn’t just affect the news, however. While Facebook told Recode that it intended to take “a broad definition in order to respect the law as drafted,” the company appears to have been overzealous in its banning. Facebook blocked a lot of pages and links that weren’t news, including charities, bike trails, Facebook itself, and government agencies, including health sites, as the country prepares to begin its Covid-19 vaccine rollout. Either Facebook’s block was hasty and careless, or it was spiteful — or it was a combination of both. In any case, it wasn’t a good look.

“Facebook managed to turn attention away from a flawed piece of legislation and on to its own reckless, opaque power,” wrote Emily Bell, director of the Tow Center for Digital Journalism at Columbia Journalism School. “Even for a company that specializes in public relations disasters, this was quite an achievement.”

Techdirt founder and media analyst Mike Masnick, on the other hand, thought Facebook was perfectly within its rights to do what it did. He even argued that the news ban is in the best interests of a “free and open internet,” as the Australian law will force Google and Facebook to pay a “link tax” that he feels is “inherently problematic.”

“A bunch of lazy newspaper execs who failed to adapt and to figure out better internet business models not only want the traffic, they also want to get paid for it,” Masnick wrote. “This is like saying that not only should NBC have to run an advertisement for Techdirt, but it should have to pay me for it. If that seems totally nonsensical, that’s because it is. The link tax makes no sense.”

Many of those who criticize the new Australian law point out that Rupert Murdoch, whose News Corp dominates Australian media, likely stands to gain the most from it. After all, when enacted, the law would require Google and Facebook to pay Murdoch, who used his considerable influence on the Australian government to push for legislation like this for years. Case in point: News Corp has already made a multi-year, multi-million-dollar deal with Google (Facebook’s ban was announced and implemented just hours after the Google-News Corp deal was announced). Australia’s other media giants, Seven West Media and Nine Entertainment, also worked out big deals with Google. But it remains to be seen how the law — or the threat of it — would benefit smaller publishers that don’t have the same resources or power to negotiate deals with one of the biggest companies in the world.

Among those who have a problem with the law itself, many agree with the motivation behind it: Google and Facebook have benefited from the news industry. The platforms get traffic from users who are reading and sharing the news, but more importantly, they dominate the digital ad industry. Because most news outlets rely heavily on digital ads for revenue, they’re almost forced to agree to Facebook’s and Google’s terms and prices. So the tech giants get a nice cut from those ads, while news publications have effectively lost their business model.

That dominance — and the media’s decline — is why the law was the recommendation of the Australian Competition and Consumer Commission (ACCC), which has been looking into Google and Facebook for years. Commissioner Rod Sims has said that he believes the two have too much market power, and the law is needed for media companies to have a chance at a fair deal for a cut of the profits those platforms have made off of their content.

Prime Minister Scott Morrison strongly urged Facebook to reconsider and “friend us again,” saying that the block was “not a good move” and may well have ramifications for the company beyond Australia’s borders. Canada, France, and the European Union are believed to be considering similar laws, and the United States is pursuing antitrust actions against Facebook, Google, and other Big Tech companies, both on state and federal levels.

“There is a lot of world interest in what Australia is doing,” Morrison told the Associated Press. “That’s why I invite, as we did with Google, Facebook to constructively engage because they know that what Australia will do here is likely to be followed by many other Western jurisdictions.”

Morrison added: “It’s not okay to unfriend Australia because Australia is very friendly.”

But some of Australia’s 13 million Facebook users were not feeling very friendly in the aftermath of the block. A number of them told Recode that they saw Facebook’s move as an abuse of power, and feared they would now miss out on important news or emergencies, or that the news vacuum caused by the block would be filled with more misinformation. But one Recode reader had a different view: He hoped people would seek the news out on their own, rather than only reading whatever headlines were shared by friends.

“I would be much more comfortable if all Aussies got their news direct from the source,” he said. “I think this would be best for quality journalism and the strength of our democracy.”

It looks like some Australians are trying to do just that: The Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s app was the most downloaded app in Australia’s App Store in the days following the ban.

We’ll see how things progress. And if you live in Australia, you’ll have to go directly to your favorite news website for updates.

Rebecca Heilweil contributed reporting to this story.

Open Sourced is made possible by Omidyar Network. All Open Sourced content is editorially independent and produced by our journalists.

Click Here:

Myanmar saw its largest nationwide protests since the military coup earlier this month, with hundreds of thousands of people demonstrating in the streets and businesses shutting down across the country.

Monday’s protests are the latest in a nearly month-long civil disobedience campaign that erupted in response to the February 1 takeover by Myanmar’s military that saw the country’s civilian leaders detained and ended the country’s decade-long experiment with quasi-democratic governance.

Since then, mass demonstrations have taken place across the country and citizens have engaged in acts of resistance, from lying across train tracks at a station in Mandalay, Myanmar’s second-largest city, to work stoppages that now threaten Myanmar’s economy.

Click Here:

Monday’s demonstrations — which some are calling the five twos, or the “22222 uprising” — saw hundreds of thousands of protesters take to the streets of Myanmar’s cities; stores, banks, and fast food chains shut down in solidarity. Protesters chose the date because it echoes the August 8, 1988 (8/8/88) protests against military rule, which the military suppressed in a bloody crackdown.

Monday’s action went forward despite the military’s threats that mass resistance would lead to “a confrontation path where [people] will suffer the loss of life.”

In cities like Yangon, authorities set up barricades and parked armored vehicles to try to block the mass gatherings, but the protesters were undeterred. The demonstrations were largely peaceful, though there were sporadic reports of violence and arrests, particularly in the capital of Naypyidaw.

But at least three people have died in confrontations with police since the protests began, including two protesters who were killed in Mandalay when police fired live and rubber bullets into a crowd of striking workers. The first protester to die — a 20-year-old woman who was hit by a bullet at a Naypyidaw protest — has helped galvanize the movement, despite fears of an even more aggressive crackdown from the military rulers.

The military junta continues to impose internet and communication blackouts, an attempt to prevent people from organizing. Activists also worry that the blackouts may give authorities cover to try to arrest protesters and other political organizers. According to the Assistance Association for Political Prisoners (Burma), a Thailand-based human rights organization, 684 people have been arrested, charged, or sentenced since the February 1 coup, and 637 people are still in detention or face outstanding warrants.

The protesters are proof the Myanmar coup is not going as planned

The protesters are demanding the end of the military junta and the restoration of the democratically elected civilian government, led by Aung San Suu Kyi. Suu Kyi and her party, the National League for Democracy, won overwhelmingly in elections in November.

But just as the new government was set to be sworn in, the military interceded and insisted the election results were invalid because of widespread voter fraud. Neither the country’s Union Election Commission nor international observers found evidence of widespread irregularities that would have changed the outcome of the vote. Still, the military has claimed that it will retain control until it can host new elections in a year.

The military retained a degree of control even after the country undertook democratic reforms about a decade ago, but the February coup dispensed with even a nominal democratic government. The ousted Suu Kyi was detained and eventually charged with allegedly importing illegal walkie-talkies. Another charge — of meeting with a large crowd in defiance of Covid-19 public health measures — was announced last week as the leader’s trial began in secret.

But Myanmar’s civilians have met the military’s actions with sustained resistance, pulling from a wide swath of Myanmarese, including students, teachers, doctors, bankers, and laborers. Members of Myanmar’s persecuted ethnic and religious minority groups — who still faced repression under Suu Kyi’s leadership — have also joined in the uprisings.

Protesters have also called out the military’s repression of the Rohingya and other minority groups with signs during the demonstrations, a remarkable show of solidarity.

Activists inside and outside Myanmar continue to worry that the military will lose patience and decisively try to crack down on the movement; at the same time, the pro-democracy resistance is strengthening despite the junta’s warnings and attempts to cut off communications.

The international community has also condemned the Myanmar coup. The Biden administration is sanctioning military members who orchestrated the coup, preventing them from accessing about $1 billion in the United States. It represents one of the first international tests for the White House, though its options are limited in how much pressure it can place on Myanmar. Still, the administration has made clear that it is closely watching as the uprisings unfold.

“The United States will continue to take firm action against those who perpetrate violence against the people of Burma as they demand the restoration of their democratically elected government,” Secretary of State Antony Blinken said in a statement Sunday night. “We stand with the people of Burma.”

The Biden administration has begun allowing tens of thousands of asylum seekers who were forced to wait in Mexico for a chance to obtain protection in the United States under a Trump-era program to cross the border.

Some 28,000 asylum seekers — primarily Cubans, Hondurans, and Guatemalans — have active cases in former President Donald Trump’s Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP), which became known as the “Remain in Mexico” program. It is one of many interlocking Trump-era policies that, together, have made obtaining asylum and other humanitarian protections in the US next to impossible.

On Friday, the Homeland Security Department announced that it had allowed 25 of those asylum seekers to cross the US-Mexico border at the San Ysidro port of entry, which connects the city of Tijuana with San Diego, California. International organizations, including the United Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR), had registered the asylum seekers in advance and given them an appointment to show up at the border during which they verified their eligibility to enter the country on a US Customs and Border Protection mobile app and tested negative for Covid-19.

“Today, we took the first step to start safely, efficiently, and humanely processing eligible individuals at the border,” Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas said in a statement on Friday. “It is important to underscore that this process will take time, that we are ensuring public health and safety, and that individuals should register virtually to determine if they are eligible for processing under this program.”

Another 25 asylum seekers arrived at the port of entry on Monday to be processed.

DHS has said that the asylum seekers, once admitted to the US, will be placed in “alternatives to detention” programs, under which they are released into the US but monitored, usually by a social worker, in an effort to encourage them to show up for their immigration court dates. Such programs are humane and relatively low cost compared to immigration detention.

Ports of entry in El Paso and Brownsville, Texas — which is directly across the border from one of the largest encampments of asylum seekers in Matamoros — were expected to start processing people subject to MPP this week, but CBP said Monday that certain “operational considerations” specific to those ports could delay that plan.

They will start by processing 25 migrants daily and eventually ramp up to 300 per day, but DHS has yet to publicly commit to a date when that will occur.

“Many of them are now going to be in dignity with their families here in the US as they await their cases to be heard,” said Rep. Nanette Diaz Barragán (D-CA), who was scheduled to meet with border officials at San Ysidro and nonprofits aiding migrants on both sides of the border on Monday.

Many asylum seekers are still anxiously awaiting an appointment to cross the border

Asylum seekers who have not yet been given an appointment to be processed at the border say that they remain “anxious and worried” about ensuring that they get a spot in line.

While waiting in Mexican border cities, they remain at risk of extortion, kidnapping, and rape at the hands of cartels and other criminal entities. Some have found housing in shelters, hotels, or rooms for rent. But for others, only colorful tents and tarps stand between them and the elements. They continue to rely on volunteers for basic necessities and medical care.

An online platform created by UNHCR that allows migrants subject to MPP to register for an appointment at the border has been a source of confusion. Migrants have to fill out a four-page virtual form, including information from their court documents, that UN officials will use to identify which migrants are most vulnerable and should be prioritized for processing. Among other factors, they will take into consideration a migrant’s age and health, as well as whether they are victims of crimes or trauma or single mothers with children.

The Monitor’s Valerie Gonzalez reported that the site went live at noon on Friday, but migrants quickly encountered difficulty registering due to “weak internet reception, an inundation of web traffic, and unaccommodated disabilities.” On Monday, migrants in Matamoros said they had been unable to access the site since 10 pm on Sunday night, and the UNHCR phone line was continuously busy.

MPP is one of many barriers to asylum erected under Trump

More than 71,000 migrants have been subject to MPP over the lifetime of the program as of the end of January, according to new data from the Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse at Syracuse University. The vast majority are not being represented by a lawyer, and less than 2 percent of those whose cases have been completed have received some form of protection in the US.

Before the pandemic, asylum seekers would often have to wait months for a hearing. But last March, the Trump administration suspended all their hearings indefinitely.

Faced with the prospect of waiting many months in Mexico to be called in for their court dates in the US, many migrants who were enrolled in MPP decided to return to their home countries and were ordered deported in their absence. Biden administration officials have signaled that they also intend to identify those people and admit them to the US for a chance to seek protection.

President Biden announced last month that the US would stop enrolling people in MPP, but he stopped short of ending it entirely. He had also promised on the campaign trail to “surge humanitarian resources” to the border, including asylum officers who could conduct an initial screening of migrants’ claims for protection, and ensure that US Citizenship and Immigration Services’ asylum division takes the lead on processing their cases in order to ease the burden on the immigration courts.

Biden’s decision to start processing asylum seekers subject to MPP signals that he is taking a more compassionate approach to the border. But some immigrant advocates have argued that he isn’t acting quickly enough to reverse Trump’s policies, including a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention order that has allowed the US to turn away the vast majority of migrants arriving at the border on pandemic-related grounds. White House press secretary Jen Psaki has said the CDC order will remain in place for now.

Click Here: