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There are few modern-day rap groups with the power and charisma of the Migos. At the height of their powers, they influenced the likes of Beyoncé and received high praise from creatives such as Donald Glover: “I think they’re the Beatles of this generation.”
What made their meteoric rise truly great was their sense of family. The trio of Quavo and Takeoff (uncle and nephew), along with their childhood friend Offset, shared a bloodlike bond, having been raised by Quavo's mother, Edna Marshall.
The challenges of the industry – solo ambitions and tangled relationships – fractured the link between frontman Quavo and Offset. The friction in the group tragically turned into a permanent shake-up this past November, when Takeoff was killed at a bowling alley in Houston.
On Sunday, during the BET Awards, the remaining two rappers took the stage together for the first time since Takeoff’s passing to remember him in tribute. During one point of the celebration, the two rappers pointed in unison at a makeshift spaceship, which took off and revealed an image of their fallen bandmate. It was a heartwarming gesture that reminded us to make amends with family and friends.
The exhaust from the model aircraft is a reminder of James 4:14 – “You do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? Indeed, it is a mist that appears for a little while and then disappears.”
When it comes to rectifying grievances and healing wounds, today is the day of salvation.
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After the Arab League reinstated Syria, some Syrian refugees had dared hope for measures to enable their return home. But in interviews and polls, most say they’ve seen nothing that convinces them that now is the time.
B., a Syrian refugee in Jordan, is intimately familiar with the Assad regime’s record. The mosque where he once preached in Daraa, Syria, was a flashpoint for protests that erupted over the arrest and torture of 15 teenagers who spray-painted graffiti demanding President Bashar al-Assad’s overthrow.
B., who asked that his full name not be used, worked to soothe tensions. He preached to his flock not to protest. For his troubles, he was tortured and disfigured by regime security services. Police killings of Daraa protesters would spark nationwide demonstrations that eventually escalated into a civil war in which hundreds of thousands have died.
Today B. is among millions of Syrians living in the Middle East and Europe who long to return home but fear they cannot.
In interviews and polls since the Arab League’s early May decision reinstating Syria, refugees say they have seen nothing that convinces them to trust Mr. Assad. B. and many others believe that the dictator now feels “protected and promoted,” with no incentive to reconcile with opponents.
“The only guarantee that we could return safely is for Assad to go,” he says. “As long as he is present, we are permanently separated from our homeland. He cannot be trusted.”
Some mornings B. walks to a farm at the edge of Jordan’s northern border town of Ramtha and looks across the Yarmuk River valley into Syria. On a clear day, he can see the mosque where he preached and the remains of his house in Daraa 7 miles away.
Although the Syrian refugee could walk to his hometown in two hours, it remains, for him, as unreachable as ever – no matter the recent reconciliation between Arab states and President Bashar al-Assad’s regime and the resulting promises of safe returns.
“The only guarantee that we could return safely is for Assad to go,” says B., who asked that his full name not be used and is among millions of Syrians living in the Middle East and Europe who long to return home but fear they cannot. “As long as he is present, we are permanently separated from our homeland. He cannot be trusted.”
In interviews and polls, Syrian refugees say they have seen nothing that convinces them to trust Mr. Assad in the wake of the Arab League’s early May decision to reinstate Syria.
Syria’s membership had been suspended in 2011 following Mr. Assad’s brutal crackdown on dissent in the early days of Syria’s civil war, a conflict that left hundreds of thousands dead and millions displaced. And a few refugees had dared hope that the Arab world reconciliation would be followed by concrete measures to rebuild trust.
But so far not even the “bare minimums” that they would expect are on the table: a general amnesty, reconciliation, transparency on the fate of the missing, and guarantees of a safe return for those who fled.
Without such measures, the vast majority of Syrians in exile say returning home is impossible: Any guarantee by Mr. Assad – regarded as a serial promise-breaker who has shown no contrition for the systematic destruction, torture, and killings under his command – cannot be trusted.
For Syrians whose lives have been upended by war, seeing Mr. Assad invited to events such as COP28, to be held in early December in Dubai, is a shock.
“It is a massive disappointment for most Syrians living in or outside Syria,” France-based Syrian journalist Samir Tawil says of the diplomatic move. “It’s like the Syrian regime won against the Syrian people, against the Arab world, and against the whole world. But the biggest loser is the Syrian people.”
B. is intimately familiar with the Assad regime’s record. Daraa’s historic Al-Omari Mosque, where he preached, was a flashpoint for the first protests that erupted in the town in March 2011 over the arrest and torture of 15 teenagers who spray-painted graffiti demanding Mr. Assad’s overthrow.
Police killings of Daraa protesters would spark nationwide peaceful demonstrations – part of the regionwide Arab Spring – that eventually escalated into civil war.
In those first days, B. worked with local officials and security services to soothe tensions and reach a peaceful solution. He preached to his flock not to protest. For his troubles, he was tortured and disfigured by regime security services, losing a kidney.
“You can’t believe this regime’s promises or reason with them because they know no way other than oppression and violence. Trust me, I’ve tried,” B. says from his Ramtha apartment.
With Arab states’ embrace of Mr. Assad, B. and many Syrians believe that the dictator feels “protected and promoted,” with no incentive to take responsibility or reconcile with opponents.
“If the Assad regime had any intention to reconcile or offer a guarantee to make us feel safe to return, it could at least tell us the fate of the thousands of our relatives missing in its prisons,” he says. “At the very least tell us who is alive and who is dead so that we can begin to mourn and heal.”
Mr. Tawil, who obtained asylum in Paris in 2016, is also well-versed in the Assad regime’s trustworthiness.
Working for Syrian state television when the revolution erupted, he witnessed his neighborhood cemetery fill with the corpses of peaceful demonstrators while the channel claimed the security forces were battling armed terrorists.
That was one reason he left the country. Helicopter attacks on his neighborhood were another.
“We left as refugees fleeing death,” he says. “There is no guarantee possible that would return us to death. As long as the Assad and intelligence service apparatus remains in place, there is no return possible.”
A large majority of Syrian refugees in neighboring states rule out returning, despite facing increasingly dire economic straits. Dwindling humanitarian aid, a shift in international assistance to Ukraine, and post-COVID global inflation complicate their survival. Yet even if they wanted, many would have no home to return to, as war has reduced many areas to rubble.
Many point out that mistrust extends beyond the Assad regime. With Syrian families and neighbors divided by rival armies, militias, and proxy groups, some fear lingering violence as well as reprisal attacks from fellow Syrians seeking to settle old scores.
Shamseh Mustafa has lived in the Jordanian border town of Mafraq with her seven children and extended family since they fled their village outside Aleppo in 2012. When a United Nations funding shortfall earlier this year caused a three-month pause in their rental assistance, her family of 12 was evicted from their apartment. Now they share a rented, bare, 12-foot-by-6-foot room.
With no money for transportation, her two eldest daughters, Baraa, 18, and Israa, 16, and her 8-year-old nephew Ahmed dropped out of school this spring.
The family is in debt and struggles to pay the electricity bill. Still, a return to Ms. Mustafa’s abandoned 2-acre farm and bombed-out house in Syria “is out of the question.”
“We can’t even say the word ‘return.’ There is no safety, no economy, no trust in Syria. There is nothing to return to,” she says. “Even if a miracle from God brought peace and turned Syria into a paradise, what will cleanse the hatred that has been planted in people’s hearts?
“Can you sleep at night knowing that a relative or stranger may come and kill you to settle an old score?” she says. “Bad blood like that cannot cleanse.”
Syrian farmer Ahmed Abu Omar moved with his wife and six children into a plastic tent in Lebanon’s Arsal camp in 2012. The summers have been hot, winters cold. Dependent on humanitarian aid, the family can only afford meat three times a year. Their diet is heavy on rice and pickled goods. The bulk of the budget is taken up by $20 per month rent for the land beneath their tent.
“If we could go back in a dignified and safe way, we would go back,” says Abu Omar, who declined to include his last name for safety reasons.
A political transition and the reconstruction of the country are necessary conditions for his return. A personal obstacle is reclaiming his partially destroyed home – the section still standing is now occupied by fellow Syrians who refuse to vacate and falsely accuse him of rebel activity.
“We were waiting impatiently for the Arab summit in Saudi Arabia,” he shares. “We thought step-by-step things will move forward, but until now, nothing has happened. There has been no release of the detainees. ... Half of Syria is displaced. There’s been no goodwill-building measures. It’s like nothing happened. It’s as if the whole thing gave Assad power.”
Most Syrians in Lebanon feel pressure to leave the country, he says. In a country still reeling with economic crisis and looking for scapegoats, the refugees are subjected to restrictions on their economic participation as well as political rants by sectarian leaders.
But the refugees are frightened of what would await them, he says, particularly the pro-regime gunmen, or shabiha. “The shabiha do whatever they want,” he says, “they are accountable to no one.”
Soheib Ahmed el-Abdu, a chef-turned-humanitarian activist, agrees. “The [pro-Assad] militias will settle scores with any members of the opposition so the situation is not safe, even if there was a political transition,” he says.
Concerns for the fate of returnees are shared in northern Jordan, where reports of activists going missing as soon as they cross the border have heightened insecurity among the refugees. The border town of Ramtha is awash with stories of friends, relatives, and neighbors who voluntarily returned to Syria – and were never heard from again.
Family members tell the Monitor of missing brothers and cousins who returned to Syria, showing WhatsApp conversations with returnees that abruptly stop, mobile phones disconnected.
The disappeared include one of the first Syrians who crossed back during a grand reopening of the Jordan-Syrian border in October 2018. After he was interviewed by Syrian state television and given sweets by Syrian officials who hugged him as a “lost brother,” he disappeared. He later reemerged in a regime prison where he reportedly remains today.
Unlike Jordan, Lebanon is home to many political players close to Mr. Assad and in favor of sending Syrians back, and there are recent reports that hundreds of refugees had been forcibly repatriated. In April, Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International issued a joint statement urging the Lebanese army to stop the summary deportations.
“There are raids and Syrians are being thrown on the other side of the border,” says Mr. Abdu, the activist. “The returns are being carried out in a militia or mafia style, not through political or diplomatic channels.
“Those who were returned, no one knows what became of them,” he says. “Were they detained? Did they get beaten? Nobody knows.”
The Supreme Court seems to be avoiding adding stress to U.S. democracy with its Tuesday decision striking down the “independent state legislature” theory in setting federal election rules.
The Supreme Court has not been shy about shaking up major aspects of American life, as shown by last year’s decision striking down Roe v. Wade. But on Tuesday, a majority of justices refrained from taking a big step that could have radically reshaped a core part of U.S. politics: how presidential and congressional elections are run.
By a 6-3 vote, the court rejected a legal theory that state legislatures have almost unlimited power to decide the rules for federal elections and draw highly partisan congressional district maps.
Proponents of the “independent state legislature” theory argued that a literal reading of the U.S. Constitution gives state lawmakers the final say in regulating votes for federal office, unchecked by governors, state courts, or state constitutions.
The court’s ruling in Moore v. Harper may need to be placed in the larger context of recent pressures on democracy. These include continued false claims of fraud in the 2020 and 2022 elections, threats against election officials, and the lingering effects of the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol riot.
“One way of reading this opinion is the court is consciously declining to open a new front in the war upon democracy at a time in which democratic ideals are coming under a considerable amount of stress,” says Aziz Huq of the University of Chicago Law School.
The current Supreme Court has not been shy about shaking up major aspects of American life, as shown by last year’s decision striking down federal protection of a woman’s right to obtain an abortion. But on Tuesday, a majority of justices refrained from taking a big step that could have radically reshaped a core part of U.S. politics: how presidential and congressional elections are run.
By a 6-3 vote, the high court rejected a legal theory that state legislatures have almost unlimited power to decide the rules for federal elections and draw highly partisan gerrymandered congressional district maps.
Proponents of the “independent state legislature” theory have argued that a literal reading of the U.S. Constitution gives state lawmakers the final say in regulating votes for federal office, unchecked by governors, state courts, or provisions in state constitutions.
The court’s ruling on this issue in the case of Moore v. Harper may need to be placed in the larger context of recent pressures on American democracy, say some legal experts. These include continued false claims of fraud in the 2020 and 2022 elections, threats against local election officials, and the lingering effects of the Jan. 6, 2021, Capitol riot.
“One way of reading this opinion is the court is consciously declining to open a new front in the war upon democracy at a time in which democratic ideals are coming under a considerable amount of stress,” says Aziz Huq, professor of law at the University of Chicago Law School.
The dispute that became Moore v. Harper stemmed from a map of congressional districts drawn by the North Carolina legislature following the 2020 census. The state’s Supreme Court initially rejected the map as a partisan gerrymander. As drawn it seemed likely to produce a mix of 10 Republican and four Democratic members of Congress in a state where the number of voters of each party are evenly balanced.
Republicans seeking to restore the GOP-friendly map requested that the U.S. Supreme Court intervene, arguing that the state court did not have the power to act. They pointed to the exact wording of the Elections Clause of the U.S. Constitution, which states that the time and manner of congressional elections “shall be prescribed in each State by the Legislature thereof,” subject to alteration by Congress.
A literal reading of this text would find that state institutions other than legislatures should have no say in federal political arrangements, argued North Carolina GOP members.
The case attracted wide attention because several of the most conservative justices in past rulings have expressed interest in this independent state legislature theory.
But Chief Justice John Roberts, writing for the majority, rejected that argument.
“The Elections Clause does not vest exclusive and independent authority in state legislatures to set the rules regarding federal elections,” Chief Justice Roberts wrote.
Democrats, voting rights advocates, and some legal experts praised the decision as respectful of the status quo. Many had worried that a court approval of the more extreme interpretations of the independent state legislature theory could have played havoc with election arrangements across the country, particularly in states where either party has solid legislative control.
The theory threatened the current system of unified elections, with federal, state, and local votes conducted at the same time, says Carolyn Shapiro, professor at the University of Chicago-Kent College of Law.
Legislators on their own could have banned ballot drop-boxes, no-excuse mail-in voting, and early voting for presidential and congressional elections in their states in the face of state governor or court opposition. A governor’s veto or a court decision in turn could have maintained those things for gubernatorial, state legislative, and municipal elections.
“We would have been left with a two-tiered system that would have been very difficult to operate,” says Professor Shapiro.
With high court approval, the independent state legislature approach also might have threatened some efforts to control the political manipulation of congressional maps, such as court oversight and state redistricting commissions.
The majority opinion took pains to document evidence that state legislatures had always been subject to oversight from governors and courts, even prior to the Constitutional Convention of 1787.
This history showed that the “special status of the legislature is nonsense,” said Tom Wolf, deputy director of the Democracy Program at the Brennan Center for Justice, in a press briefing on Tuesday.
“A majority of the court has affirmed over a century of legal precedent on which [the independent state legislature] theory would have required a reversal to move forward,” said Mr. Wolf.
While important in legal terms, the decision in Moore v. Harper will have little practical effect in the state that brought it to the Supreme Court. The North Carolina Supreme Court, with a new majority of Republican judges, has undone its redistricting decision. So the dispute between state lawmakers and state judges at the center of the case has been resolved.
Justices Samuel Alito, Clarence Thomas, and Neil Gorsuch would thus have dismissed the case as moot rather than rule on the merits of the independent state legislature theory.
The decision also did suggest that there are legal limits to the power of state courts to police legislative decisions on congressional and presidential votes.
State courts “do not have free rein,” Chief Justice Roberts wrote for the majority.
The courts “may not transgress the ordinary bounds of judicial review such that they arrogate to themselves the power vested in state legislatures to regulate federal elections,” Chief Justice Roberts continued.
The majority decision makes little effort to define what “ordinary bounds” might mean. This loophole thus might lead to further litigation on the issue for future elections.
“The court does leave some potential breathing room for federal court review of a state court decision that completely goes off the rails,” says Steven Schwinn, professor at the University of Illinois Chicago School of Law.
If the Supreme Court wants another chance to define what it means, another redistricting case, this one from Ohio, is pending.
Russia is a key partner in China’s challenge to the United States. Last weekend’s mercenary mutiny against Moscow is prompting doubts in Beijing about how reliable an ally its northern neighbor really is.
Last weekend’s mutiny against the Russian government, launched by mercenary leader Yevgeny Prigozhin, was of especial concern in Beijing.
Chinese leader Xi Jinping is acutely aware of how the Soviet Union collapsed, partly because the Soviet Communist Party loosened its grip on the military. Mr. Xi is certainly not going to permit the creation of any private military groups in China.
But Beijing has been worried about Russia ever since its invasion of Ukraine. The Chinese People’s Liberation Army is modeled on the Russian army, whose performance so far has been disappointing. Chinese analysts will be trying to learn from Russia’s mistakes on the battlefield and watching how Russian weaponry stacks up against Western armaments, observers say.
Turmoil in Russia is especially worrisome to China because the two countries are linked in a “no-limits” friendship forged on the eve of the Ukraine invasion. Beijing is frustrated by what officials there see as Moscow’s unpredictability and unreliability. But Beijing needs this strategic partnership because it provides vital support to China in its competition with the United States and Western U.S. allies.
Soon after Chinese leader Xi Jinping came to power in 2012, he made a speech to Communist Party cadres, urging them to learn from the mistakes Moscow had made that led to the collapse of the former Soviet Union.
One fatal error, he concluded, were reforms that eroded the Soviet Communist Party’s control over the Russian military and security forces.
The weekend mutiny in Russia by Wagner paramilitary group leader Yevgeny Prigozhin – amid rising tensions between his mercenary force and the Russian military – is likely to see Beijing double down on this takeaway from Moscow’s travails.
“This challenge in the form of this private military company, will probably lead Xi Jinping … to reemphasize the party’s longstanding tradition of the party commanding the gun,” says Joseph Torigian, assistant professor at the School of International Service at American University.
Unlike Russia, China does not allow private military companies, although it does permit private security firms, which have grown rapidly in number since being legalized in 2009, according to a report by the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in Washington.
“One lesson I am sure they have already taken, is that any steps towards private security forces outside of the control of the CCP [Chinese Communist Party] should be strictly avoided,” says Camilla T.N. Sørensen, associate professor at the Institute for Strategy and War Studies at the Royal Danish Defense College.
The dramatic, though short-lived, rebellion is only the latest development in Russia since President Vladimir Putin launched his invasion of Ukraine to have given Beijing cause for concern.
As in past decades, China is scrutinizing the setbacks of its northern neighbor and like-minded authoritarian regime to avoid making the same mistakes. Beijing is also calculating how to best advance China’s own interests in light of Mr. Putin’s actions, as Russia becomes the increasingly junior member of the “no-limits” partnership that Beijing and Moscow forged on the eve of the Russian invasion.
Like the invasion, the recent political turmoil in Russia apparently caught Beijing by surprise, experts say.
“That it happened so suddenly and took everybody by surprise confirms the worst fear of the CCP – that they overlook some potential mobilization of … opposition somewhere in China, only realizing it too late,” says Dr. Sørensen, an expert in Chinese security strategy.
China’s official reaction to the Wagner revolt was muted, and mirrored Beijing’s own priority – domestic political stability. “As Russia’s friendly neighbor and comprehensive strategic partner … China supports Russia in maintaining national stability,” Foreign Ministry spokesperson Mao Ning told a press conference on Monday.
Nevertheless, China’s tightly controlled state media did publish comments voicing serious misgivings by Chinese experts on Russia. “The mutiny by the Wagner group reveals that social, economic, and political problems have been rising since the Russia-Ukraine conflict” began, wrote Xu Wenhong, a researcher at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, in the state-run China Daily newspaper.
Other commentaries also warned of profound and alarming divisions inside Russia. “The conflict between mercenaries and the Russian army is only the tip of the iceberg,” wrote Yu Sui, a professor at the China Center for Contemporary World Studies.
Such tensions are growing, Chinese experts believe. “The mutiny further intensified the political contradiction within Russia,” said Feng Yujun, professor at Fudan University in Shanghai and director of the Center for Russian and Central Asian Studies, in an interview published by Hong Kong’s Phoenix News. “The contradiction between the grassroots groups and the establishment has become a new turbulent factor in Russian domestic politics.”
Beijing’s concerns over what it calls the “Wagner Group incident” run deeper – especially given the Mr. Prigozhin’s scathing criticisms of the Russian military’s failures, incompetence, and corruption. China modeled its military system on that of Russia, raising questions among Chinese military experts about how the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) would perform in combat.
Some Chinese military researchers acknowledge privately that “the [Ukraine] war is a disaster for the Russian military,” says a Western diplomat in Beijing. Given that the PLA has copied Russian military doctrine, the Chinese researchers are concerned that “if Russians have trouble making decisions at the lowest level, the PLA has the same problems but on steroids, due to the political commissars” who impose Communist party discipline in PLA units, the diplomat said. “They are studying what to learn from the conflict.”
China’s military is likely closely monitoring deficiencies in Russia’s military organization, and how its armaments are stacking up against the Western weapons in Ukraine, says Alexander Korolev, senior lecturer in politics and international relations at the University of New South Wales in Sydney.
The PLA is “trying to learn from Russia’s mistakes in terms of responsiveness to challenges on the battlefield,” and may be reorganizing units as a result, says Dr. Korolev. Parallels between the Chinese and Russian militaries, weapons systems, and munitions have “disadvantages and advantages” he says – one benefit being that, in theory, they could more easily operate together and supply one another.
Economically, too, China’s planners are learning from the Russian experience to prepare to buttress the country against any future Western sanctions. They are striking better deals on Russian energy exports, while trying to avoid Europe’s mistake of becoming overly dependent on Russia’s oil and gas.
As questions linger about the implications of the recent turmoil for Mr. Putin and his leadership, Beijing is actively assessing how the mutiny's aftermath could impact China, given its growing interdependence with Russia.
Chinese military and security researchers voice “a lot of frustration, that Russian risk-taking behavior is hurting China and they have to adjust all the time,” says Dr. Sorenson. “The Chinese are saying the Russians are too unpredictable and unreliable.”
Yet while Beijing is troubled by what it views as rash actions by Moscow, it considers the partnership vital for its competition with the United States and its allies.
“China needs the Russian strategic partnership because of their long-term skepticism of Western intentions,” says Dr. Torigian. “While they’ll be worried about Russian collapse, or what they might need to do to support the Russians, I think losing Russia is … still a much larger challenge for them.”
Residents of Thailand’s Ban Sop Lan village are resisting government efforts to expand a nearby national park. Both sides are driven by a commitment to preservation, but at the heart of the matter is a question of trust.
Ban Sop Lan village leader Tayae Yodchatmingboon has lived in the fog-shrouded mountains of Thailand’s Ob Khan National Forest his entire life. His granddaughter, the first in the village to attend university, teaches English here. Mr. Yodchatmingboon and other residents have spent years tending to a plethora of spiritual sites in the surrounding forests. It’s been this way for generations.
Yet he worries “the spirit of the community will disappear” if the government succeeds in incorporating this land into a neighboring national park. The plan, decades in the making, is meant to help preserve the forest, but could mean stricter rules on how the land – and the village – is used. Expanding the park’s jurisdiction would likely force the villagers to reduce their reliance on rotational farming, a traditional practice that critics say contributes to severe air pollution in the nearby city of Chiang Mai.
Behind the debate over the park’s expansion, there’s a deeper question about whom to trust with the land’s welfare.
Nuthamon Kongcharoen, a Chiang Mai University professor, says more public dialogue about land management is needed to address “feelings of hardship between the government and the ethnic minorities ... in the conservation area.”
“This [trust debate] is ongoing,” she adds.
Bathed in Thailand’s winter sun, a dollhouse-sized structure carved from bamboo sits in a forest clearing. In front of it, an older man bows his head in silent prayer to the spirit of the little house.
For Tayae Yodchatmingboon, the land around this spot is home.
A leader of nearby Ban Sop Lan village, he has lived in the fog-shrouded mountains all his life on land that is part of Ob Khan National Forest, about two and a half hours' drive from the northern city of Chiang Mai. For more than 50 years, Thailand’s Department of National Parks, Wildlife and Plant Conservation has been working on plans to designate this area as a national park, which could mean stricter rules on how the land – and the village – is used.
“If we are not able to farm and to live off the land, our way of life will not be protected,” Mr. Yodchatmingboon says. “The spirit of the community will disappear. Our happiness will disappear.”
The villagers belong to the Karen ethnic group from Thailand and Myanmar, and have lived on this land for many generations. The government wants to expand nearby Ob Khan National Park to ensure the preservation of natural resources and the environment, while the village is fighting to preserve its livelihood and culture. Behind the debate over the park's expansion lies a deeper question about who should be trusted with the land's welfare.
"The government said they have to occupy the land and the current National Park, because if you let the Indigenous people manage their own land, they will destroy the soil or the forest,” says Indigenous rights activist Patchara Kumchumnam, “but in fact the people have lived there for hundreds of years and the national resources are still beautiful."
Expanding the park’s jurisdiction would force the villagers to reduce their reliance on a traditional farming practice sometimes called rotational farming or slash-and-burn farming.
Rotational farming involves cycling each year among different plots of farmland, leaving five to seven years for old plots to regenerate before they are used again. The practice is often misunderstood by outsiders to mean that farmers are constantly clearing out new forest land for agriculture.
Indigenous farmers like those in Ban Sop Lan village have long used rotational farming practices, and although they do burn the bush and weeds growing on the plot whose turn it is to be cultivated, the ashes are later used as fertilizer, Mr. Yodchatmingboon explains. Villagers and volunteers from neighboring Indigenous communities also make firebreaks each summer to contain forest fires to the designated plot.
Still, critics say the practice contributes to air pollution in Chiang Mai, which is known to have some of the worst air quality in the world during the annual winter burning season. The Department of National Parks declined repeated requests to discuss its plan to expand the park – or what would happen to the villagers if those plans succeed – but the parks department has included slash-and-burn farming practices as evidence of the need for stricter preservation in similar cases.
Environmentalists are indeed concerned that cutting down and burning oxygen-replenishing trees contributes to Chiang Mai’s air quality crisis.
Steve Elliott, a biology professor at Chiang Mai University, has lived in the city for decades and has seen air pollution steadily worsen over the past 15 years as smoke from the region’s annual fires – including in neighboring Myanmar and Laos – gets trapped by the surrounding mountains. And risks aren’t limited to air quality, according to Mr. Elliott.
“We are literally sucking the nutrients out of the soil with the weeds and then burning the weeds and letting those nutrients float away to heaven knows where,” he says. “It's an extremely ecologically unfriendly way to manage soil nutrients.”
Nuthamon Kongcharoen, professor of law at Chiang Mai University, describes “feelings of hardship between the government and the ethnic minorities that live in the conservation area," saying that there needs to be more public dialogue about land management overall. "This [trust debate] is ongoing,” Dr. Kongcharoen adds.
Members of the National Human Rights Commission met villagers and National Park officials in January, after village leaders filed a complaint against the Parks department charging that officials mishandled a 2022 land survey meant to gauge public opinion on the park’s expansion. The commission says it is investigating whether the government violated the villagers’ rights, including by withholding information from the communities ahead of the survey.
At least one member of the commission is sympathetic to the villagers.
“The special thing about the village is that the community network is very strong,” says commissioner Preeda Khongpaen. “They have been here since before the national park and have made use of the forest and rely on it to live.”
Mr. Kumchumnam, an Indigenous rights advocate, says that one sticking point is that park officials struggle to understand why the local Karen community wants so much land when the villagers actively use only a small part of it for farming and homes. Yet many areas of the forest hold spiritual significance.
There’s a children's cemetery, for instance, that very few can enter, and certain trees that are considered connected to human spirits and cannot be cut down. Under the parks department’s governance, villagers worry they would lose the comfort and privacy of these spaces, as well as the freedom to manage spiritual sites as they see fit.
Another challenge, according to Mr. Kumchumnam, is that the government refuses to acknowledge the existence of Indigenous people in Thailand, in order to sidestep the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People, which the Thai government has signed. Indeed, no current legislation uses the term “Indigenous,” often referring to these communities as “ethnic groups.”
Like many Indigenous communities worldwide, the Ban Sop Lan villagers believe this land cannot be owned, and instead seek to care for and protect the forest in return for using it. Many residents are also worried about opportunities for the village’s young people, who often move to cities to find work. Banning their agricultural traditions could further limit economic opportunity in the village, community leaders say.
Wuarni Galan, Mr. Yodchatmingboon’s granddaughter, the first in the village to attend university, has returned to teach English, and now lives with her mother and three siblings. When she visits friends in Chiang Mai, she is reminded how necessary it is to preserve this forest.
“The land is very important to both our community and the city,” she says. “I was born here and have lived here, and I’d be sad without the land.”
This story was produced with support from the Round Earth Media program of the International Women’s Media Foundation. Anna Lawattanatrakul contributed reporting.
For a few exhausting days, the Glastonbury music festival turns a patch of English pasture into one of the happiest places on Earth. The challenge: how to participate, in comfort, with a 2-year-old son and pregnant wife.
The scene and its exuberant vibe are unforgettable: A heaving sea of festivalgoers – sunburnt, tightly packed, and happy beyond measure – roar the words to the song “Rocket Man” with Elton John at the piano, as fireworks blast off from the stage.
Forgotten now are all the challenges of physically getting to this moment of communal joy at the Glastonbury music festival: the precision preparation for five days of tent camping and cooking; hauling everything by hand from distant car parks; the sheer exhaustion from navigating a smorgasbord of music and culture on more than 100 stages.
I am in the crowd with my 2-year-old son in a backpack strung with fairy lights, and with my wife – who is six months pregnant – dancing with arms raised. Sequined Elton John costumes abound, along with faux-diamond-encrusted square glasses.
“There is nowhere else on this Earth where I want to be!” one woman shouts toward me.
“Glasto” is controlled chaos that caters to every musical taste. It has a decidedly green, sustainable outlook, and a left-leaning and inclusive political bent. Organizers take seriously the event motto: “Respect one another. Always.”
We fitted our son with a wristband printed with our phone numbers and the words: “If lost, please call ...”
The scene and its exuberant vibe are unforgettable: A heaving sea of festivalgoers – sunburnt, tightly packed, and happy beyond measure – roar the words to the song “Rocket Man” with Elton John at the piano, as fireworks blast off from the Pyramid stage to cap a live-set finale.
Forgotten now are all the challenges of physically getting to this moment of communal joy at the Glastonbury music festival: the 150,000 public tickets that sold out months in advance, in just 11 minutes; the precision preparation for five days of tent camping, cooking, and keeping hydrated during a heatwave, after hauling everything by hand from distant car parks; and the sheer exhaustion from navigating a never-ending smorgasbord spectacle of music and culture that plays out across more than 100 stages.
I am in the crowd, hoping to find room to breathe, with my 2-year-old son in a backpack strung with fairy lights, and with my wife – who is six months pregnant – dancing with arms raised. Beside us, also reveling in the rapture of music, is my son Finn – at 21, a university student and serious DJ-in-the-making.
Sequined Elton John costumes abound, along with faux-diamond-encrusted square glasses.
“There is nowhere else on this Earth where I want to be!” one woman shouts toward me, clearly echoing the sentiments of many who made it this far. We try to keep our footing on the trampled, browned pasture grass among a growing pile of empty cans and ketchup-stained trays with a few rejected fries.
“Glasto” – formally the Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Performing Arts – is controlled chaos, on an overwhelming scale; the place where survivalism meets rock’n’roll. For the festival, which ended Sunday, we fitted our son with a wristband printed with our phone numbers and the words: “If lost, please call ...”
Most years for more than half a century, this farmland in rural southwest England is converted into a thriving city licensed to employ 63,000 workers and volunteers – for a grand total of 210,000 individuals on site – that caters to every musical taste, has a decidedly green, sustainable outlook, and a left-leaning and inclusive political bent.
Organizers take seriously the event motto: “Respect one another. Always,” and calculate that their ban on selling single-use plastic bottles has so far saved 2 million bottles from waste.
Glastonbury is also officially “family friendly,” so we prepared weeks in advance as if for a military operation, to improve our chances of getting through it with 1 1/2 children. Our packing list included a four-person “blackout” tent, which is designed for festivals and provides a dark and cool sleeping space, even when the sun rises at 4:45 a.m. and turns most tents into ovens.
We brought the most comfortable self-inflating mattress we could find, lightweight fold-up chairs, a large water bladder, camp stoves and a cook kit to make coffee and food, rubber boots in case of rain (historically justified, it’s England), a solar panel to charge cell phones (first purchased for the 2003 invasion of Iraq), and a battery-powered fan to keep the heat wave at bay.
There are virtually no showers (bless those packs of wilderness wipes). And outdoor facilities are rudimentary: 1,300 compost loos and 700 yards of urinals, along with 2,000 “long-drop” toilets – bring your own paper, please – deployed in roofless clusters. Forbidden are knives, and glass of any kind, even perfume bottles.
The Boy, who added the phrase “a lot of people” to his vocabulary, shook off his harlequin-colored ear defenders at one venue after another, despite powerful, body-grabbing sound systems guaranteed to leave ears ringing for hours.
We used a small foldable buggy during the day. But the baby backpack was critical at night to minimize the tripping hazard to others, as we navigated shuffling rivers of humanity moving in all directions between stages.
But we found that Glastonbury had prepared as meticulously as we had – even for families determined to share this unique experience with their young children. The family camping area included a 24-hour baby R&R, for example, which provided calm space, bath tubs to keep tots clean, and even a bottle warming and sterilizing service.
Children can lose themselves in the vast Kidzfield, which included hands-on magic performances, juggling, samba drumming, climbing and bouncy castles, puppeteering and crafts, and of course, face painting and glitter.
And what treasures await the survivors of Glastonbury? Aside from headline acts like Guns N’ Roses, the Arctic Monkeys, Foo Fighters, The Chicks, Yusuf/Cat Stevens, Lizzo, and Blondie, we enjoyed a host of other performances, including Max Richter, the Bristol Reggae Orchestra joined by the Windrush Choir, The Hives, Fred Again, and the Star Feminine Band – an all-women group from the small West African nation of Benin, who danced and sang with an infectious beat.
After midnight, every night, older son Finn explores a whole other side of the Glasto scene, where the music and dancing never stops at more intimate clubs and stages.
Besides music, the event also includes a multitude of other features such as theater, the circus, and politics. At the Left Field stage – which encourages festivalgoers with its panel discussion and gig lineup to “reenergize your activism” – we listened to Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe, who was detained in Iran for six years, until March 2022.
“Be their voice, share their story,” said Ms. Zaghari-Ratcliffe of political detainees still held in Iran, and around the world, to an overflow crowd that gave her a 40-second standing ovation. She described how her spirits were lifted in 2019, when a photo was smuggled into prison of a Free Nazanin banner at Glastonbury.
There were Greenpeace and “Healing” fields, and a Greencrafts Village where workshops – covering everything from bushcraft to bicycle repairs, printmaking to pottery, and even soil and earth practices – focus on sustainable living and green energy.
The Boy loved the ice cream, as he sat under a roof of solar panels and watched a 25-foot-long inflatable octopus arm, complete with tentacles, wave in the breeze.
Doing such a festival with an infant means pacing the entire family. Where else could one find oneself scrubbing dishes in the afternoon, while The Boy and his mother took a nap, with the background sound of a live set from the band Texas, wending its way up to our camp from the Pyramid stage?
But The Boy’s presence also led to unexpected happenings. He is drawn by the scooter used by Drew Hallam, for instance, a former guitarist with a tattoo of an octopus and a smear of glitter on his cheek, who is one of the youngest in the U.K. to be diagnosed with Parkinson’s.
“Normally out on the street, I get laughed at every other day,” says Mr. Hallam, as The Boy climbs onto the parked scooter and plays with the Glastonbury veteran’s two kids.
“I am so impressed with how inclusive Glastonbury is,” he says. “It is like nowhere else.”
Amid wall-to-wall tents, we identify ours by two flags that have been hoisted nearby, one of Ukraine, and one with multicolored stripes and a peace sign – which is perhaps appropriate, considering my day job for the Monitor as a conflict reporter who now frequents Ukraine.
We keep The Boy up late, to marvel at “Carhenge,” an installation of 24 wrecked and painted vintage cars, set up standing on their ends, and featuring a soundtrack that plays the 1970s hit “Car Wash.”
He also appreciates the 50-foot-high metal Arcadia “Spider” that belches flames (this year, proudly run on bio-fuel) amid a laser light show, with a DJ inside the arachnid’s belly, high off the ground.
Glastonbury projects the message that “Music is Love!” And in five days, it is impossible to absorb it all.
But as attendees with children, we can attest to the uplifting power that comes from sharing so much, with so many other revelers, who for a time surely turned this place into one of happiest on Earth.
While setbacks have been common in Guatemala’s pursuit of a healthy democracy, progress keeps showing up. On Sunday, the country held a multicandidate presidential election that resulted in a surprise showing for a dark horse reformer. He now heads into an Aug. 20 runoff against the highest vote-getter – a candidate favored by the political elite.
Bernardo Arévalo, the son of a revered former president, pledges to renew anti-corruption efforts. He will go up against a former first lady, Sandra Torres, who faces corruption accusations and was expected to win the election in the first round.
The stark choice for voters speaks to the enduring hope that Guatemalan voters can shape their democracy and economy.
“Voting patterns are changing in important ways, especially among younger voters,” Claudia Méndez, an investigative reporter at Con Criterio, told Americas Quarterly. “They want disruption – but within the system – and to reject traditional politics.”
From Guatemala’s roots, new causes for confidence are emerging.
While setbacks have been common in Guatemala's pursuit of a healthy democracy, progress keeps showing up. On Sunday, the country held a multicandidate presidential election that resulted in a surprise showing for a dark horse reformer. He now heads into an Aug. 20 runoff against the highest vote-getter – a candidate favored by the political elite.
Bernardo Arévalo, the son of a revered former president and who pledges to renew anti-corruption efforts, will go up against a former first lady, Sandra Torres, who faces corruption accusations and was expected to win the election in the first round.
The stark choice for voters speaks to the enduring hope that Guatemalan voters can shape their democracy and economy. That journey has been a long one for Guatemala. In 2006, still emerging from a 36-year civil war, the government established an anti-corruption commission with help from the United Nations. The investigative body ran up an impressive tally over the succeeding 12 years: 120 cases implicating more than 1,500 people, including charges against some 200 retired and serving government officials. That work fostered deep public trust in the judiciary.
It also rattled the political, economic, and military elite. In 2019, the government refused to renew the commission’s mandate. Since then, scores of Guatemalan judges, prosecutors, and journalists have been jailed or driven into exile for pursuing corrupt officials and their patrons. In the run-up to Sunday’s election, the government disqualified the three top opposition candidates.
That deepened pessimism among critics, but it also had a galvanizing effect within civil society – encouraging, for example, more Indigenous women to seek local office. On election day, though, frustration with the election system still ran high. More than 1 million voters marred their ballots to express their discontent – more than the number who voted for any single candidate.
“Voting patterns are changing in important ways, especially among younger voters,” Claudia Méndez, an investigative reporter at Con Criterio, told Americas Quarterly. “They want disruption – but within the system – and to reject traditional politics.”
From Guatemala’s roots, new causes for confidence are emerging.
Each weekday, the Monitor includes one clearly labeled religious article offering spiritual insight on contemporary issues, including the news. The publication – in its various forms – is produced for anyone who cares about the progress of the human endeavor around the world and seeks news reported with compassion, intelligence, and an essentially constructive lens. For many, that caring has religious roots. For many, it does not. The Monitor has always embraced both audiences. The Monitor is owned by a church – The First Church of Christ, Scientist, in Boston – whose founder was concerned with both the state of the world and the quality of available news.
Prayer that affirms God’s goodness and ability to care for all of His children brings out strength, wisdom, and compassion that contribute to healing challenging situations.
The word “overwhelmed” is used a lot when people describe how they’re feeling in the face of difficulties, whether in their families, at work, or on the daily news.
The feeling isn’t new – and, I’ve found, neither is the remedy for it. Thousands of years ago, one struggler wrote, “From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher than I” (Psalms 61:2).
This verse, and many others in the Bible’s book of Psalms, appeals to a source of strength and wisdom higher than our own. These psalms offer comfort and assurance based on the understanding that no one is alone, stuck trying to merely cope – that there is a greater intelligence and power than our own, and that this power – God – is always present to sustain and guide us in a good, productive, and safe path. They describe people besieged by challenges and threats, yet who keep reaching to a divine source that their hearts tell them is real and able to save – and who are tangibly helped by this.
As I was reading through Psalms recently, an image of what’s called a roly-poly doll came to thought. It’s a small toy that has a human figure, but a round bottom instead of legs. When you try to knock it over, it unfailingly returns to an upright position. Psalms describes people buffeted by troubles and dangers. They cry out despairingly, and yet turn to God and regain balance – a conviction that the troubles they face aren’t as big as the power of the Divine to help.
The persistence of these writers shows the persistence sometimes needed to get to this point of conviction. And it can encourage us to keep seeking the peace and courage that come from knowing that God is real, and more than powerful enough to guide and protect us through challenges we face.
Mary Baker Eddy, the founder of Christian Science and of this news organization, wrote, “God is universal; confined to no spot, defined by no dogma, appropriated by no sect. Not more to one than to all, is God demonstrable as divine Life, Truth, and Love; and His people are they that reflect Him – that reflect Love” (“Miscellaneous Writings 1883-1896,” p. 150). Later, on the next page, referring to the author of many of the psalms, Mrs. Eddy wrote, “David sang, ‘Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee.’”
God is knowable as all-powerful Love, and He cares for “His people” – all of us in our true, spiritual nature as God’s self-expression. Humble, unselfish prayer that acknowledges God as the universal Mind and Love that guides everything and everyone lifts fear, and helps us feel a strength and intelligence beyond our own.
And everyone can pray, mentally reaching out to God as a child lifts up their arms to a loving parent. If I were present with someone suffering and knew I could do something to alleviate it, I hope I wouldn’t say, “I’ll get to that later.” I’d like to be more immediate with prayer when I hear of a need.
This discipline strikes me as an important goal in responding to overwhelming situations. Awareness of problems is important, but isn’t alone sufficient to bring the compassion, change, and healing that are needed. We can look to Christ Jesus for a model of prayer that makes a difference. Mrs. Eddy described Jesus’ prayers as “deep and conscientious protests of Truth, – of man’s likeness to God and of man’s unity with Truth and Love” (“Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures,” p. 12).
Such prayer helps us realize our God-given capacity to love inclusively, as the spiritual reflection of divine Love. It compels us to reject feeling and voicing anger, cynicism, or despair – which aren’t part of our God-given nature – and to affirm the power of God to heal, to guide the innocent to the rock of safety, and to wake up deluded wrongdoers to correction and redemption.
The rock that’s higher than any overwhelming situation is “the secret place of the most High” (Psalms 91:1). The spiritual fact is that God is good and supreme – and evil, therefore, has no valid power to possess or overwhelm anyone. The desire to know this truth, and to help others know it, has behind it the healing power of infinite, divine Love.
You’ve come to the end of today’s Daily issue. We hope you’ll come back tomorrow, when we continue our ongoing coverage of the reparations debate worldwide. We’ll look at a case where $1 billion isn’t enough. The Dakota and Lakota tribes are owed many millions of dollars by the United States government, courts have ruled. But they want the land that was sacred to them for 1,200 years.