foreignpolicy--2020-10-07--The Democrats Have Quietly Given Up Their Old Myths About Climate Change

The Democrats Have Quietly Given Up Their Old Myths About Climate Change A year after President Donald Trump was elected , Robinson Meyer , a staff writer for the Atlantic , observed that , although Democrats had become the party of climate action , they didn ’ t seem to have a clear plan for what to actually do about the problem .
“ This is true at almost every level of the policymaking process , ” Meyer wrote .
The party “ does not have a consensus bill on the issue waiting in the wings ; it does not @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bill could look like ; and it does not have a guiding slogan—like ‘ Medicare for all ’ —to express how it wants to stop global warming.
” Three years later , Democrats have a slogan .
And they have a plan .
Or , more accurately , they have many plans , all organized around similar themes .
The party ’ s rhetoric about climate change remains apocalyptic and its solutions are sweeping .
But in important ways—from a shift away from carbon pricing toward public investment , to a new openness @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Democratic climate agenda represents a significant break from the past , one that is more pragmatic than the rhetoric often suggests .
As primary season rolled around , the Democratic presidential aspirants spent the interminable months leading up to the Iowa primary one-upping each other with increasingly ambitious versions of a Green New Deal—ambitions mostly measured by who could hang the biggest price tag on their proposal .
Washington Governor Jay Inslee , the climate candidate , opened the bidding with a proposed $ 9 trillion plan .
Senator Elizabeth Warren , the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
A week later , she endorsed Inslee ’ s plan as well .
Senator Kamala Harris proposed $ 10 trillion .
Finally , Sanders put an end to the bidding war , declaring he ’ d spend a preposterous $ 16 trillion over 15 years to cut emissions to zero and give everyone free electricity .
There was one non-participant in the bidding : Joe Biden .
Biden initially proposed to spend $ 1.7 trillion , which he explicitly branded as moderate .
In response to jeers from the party ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his ante to a still comparatively modest $ 2 trillion .
In the months since Biden clinched the nomination , still more plans have flowed forth , now oriented toward the imperatives of winning a general election .
In June , the House Select Committee on Climate Change released its plan proposing a national clean electricity standard , heavy subsidies for electric vehicles , and major investments in R & D for low carbon manufacturing and industry .
A few weeks later , the Biden campaign released its “ Build Back Better ” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ massive investments in the United States ’ post-COVID-19 economic recovery .
Build Back Better pledged $ 1.7 trillion over ten years for everything from an America First manufacturing program to massive investment in infrastructure to technological innovation .
Although the details vary , all of the these plans share several features that suggest that Democrats , should they win power in November , are likely to break with a number of long-held environmental orthodoxies that have hamstrung legislative efforts politically and undermined the efficacy of proposed policies practically .
In 2021 , by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ be the main event .
The new Democratic proposals call for trillions , not billions , in investments in clean energy technology , infrastructure , research and development , and tax incentives—all meant to get the economy moving again while transitioning it toward a low carbon future .
Following from this first break with environmental orthodoxy , carbon pricing doesn ’ t prominently feature in any of the recent plans .
That shift matters .
Since climate change emerged as an environmental issue in the early 1990s , pricing carbon—either through an emissions @ @ @ @ @ @ @ central to both Democratic and environmental strategies for addressing the issue .
This remained the case as recently as 2016 , when Sanders forced presidential candidate Hillary Clinton to include a carbon tax in the Democratic platform .
But since Trump ’ s election , and especially after Ocasio-Cortez ’ s groundbreaking campaign in 2018 , many progressives have soured on carbon pricing , which they view as , at best , insufficient to deeply and rapidly cut emissions and , at worst , market-worshipping “ green neoliberalism ” that enriches corporations while @ @ @ @ @ @ @ working people .
The Democratic leadership seems happy to oblige the progressives here .
After losing congressional majorities in 1994 and 2010 following attempts to pass a tax on emissions and cap and trade legislation , respectively , neither House Speaker Nancy Pelosi nor Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer appear interested in asking their members to walk that plank again .
Neither Biden ’ s earlier primary plan , his subsequent unity plan with Sanders , nor the Build Back Better program makes any mention of carbon pricing .
The final long-standing doctrine @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and global emissions can be deeply cut with wind and solar energy alone .
Much of the industrial , manufacturing , and transportation sectors—and almost the entirety of the agriculture sector—are difficult to electrify , particularly with intermittent renewable energy .
In turn , there has been growing acknowledgement among centrist and even progressive Democrats that both advanced nuclear energy and carbon capture and storage are likely to be necessary .
In both the Biden-Sanders Unity Plan and the House Select Committee on Climate Change plan , Democrats call for substantial direct support @ @ @ @ @ @ @ being on par with wind and solar energy in a proposed Federal Clean Energy Standard .
Nonetheless , the old green ideology remains influential in other ways .
Democrats continue to promote small scale and low productivity organic farming , now often rebadged as “ regenerative agriculture , ” as a climate solution , despite the fact that multiple studies have concluded that a large scale shift to organic farming would substantially increase greenhouse gas emissions from the agriculture sector .
In response to this evidence , many environmental advocates have claimed that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sequester vast quantities of carbon in soil .
These claims are , at best , speculative .
But that hasn ’ t stopped Democrats in Congress from proposing massive subsidies in the form of tax incentives and emissions credits for carbon sequestered in soil .
The Democratic change of heart on nuclear energy has also not been matched by consistent policies to assure that nuclear will play a significant role in the United States ’ future .
At the behest of old guard environmental members , the House Select Committee plan includes a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it more difficult to continue operating existing nuclear plants and to license and site new advanced reactors .
More broadly , the shift of Democratic focus from shutting down fossil infrastructure to building clean infrastructure hasn ’ t been matched by a similar commitment to remove many of the regulatory obstacles that make it difficult to build new infrastructure in a timely and cost-effective fashion .
Simply calling for new infrastructure , and even funding it , will not be enough .
Nonetheless , the long-term shift in the Democratic climate agenda is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ decentering of the traditional environmental community from the politics of climate and clean energy .
The environmental community ’ s long-standing climate regulatory agenda is dead .
Its singular focus upon renewable energy is dying .
Its old skepticism toward economic growth and industrial policy has been abandoned entirely in the wake of two deep economic shocks in barely more than a decade .
Since at least the turn of the century , it has been clear that those ideas—some of which underpinned the environmental movement ’ s greatest 20th-century accomplishments—were up to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the biggest challenge for the 21st century .
As Democrats look toward 2021 , it appears Biden and leading Democrats in Congress have finally gotten the message .

A year after President Donald Trump was elected, Robinson Meyer, a staff writer for the Atlantic, observed that, although Democrats had become the party of climate action, they didn’t seem to have a clear plan for what to actually do about the problem. “This is true at almost every level of the policymaking process,” Meyer wrote. The party “does not have a consensus bill on the issue waiting in the wings; it does not have a shared vision for what that bill could look like; and it does not have a guiding slogan—like ‘Medicare for all’—to express how it wants to stop global warming.”
A year after President Donald Trump was elected, Robinson Meyer, a staff writer for the Atlantic, observed that, although Democrats had become the party of climate action, they didn’t seem to have a clear plan for what to actually do about the problem. “This is true at almost every level of the policymaking process,” Meyer wrote. The party “does not have a consensus bill on the issue waiting in the wings; it does not have a shared vision for what that bill could look like; and it does not have a guiding slogan—like ‘Medicare for all’—to express how it wants to stop global warming.”
Three years later, Democrats have a slogan. And they have a plan. Or, more accurately, they have many plans, all organized around similar themes. The party’s rhetoric about climate change remains apocalyptic and its solutions are sweeping. But in important ways—from a shift away from carbon pricing toward public investment, to a new openness to nuclear energy and carbon capture—the evolving Democratic climate agenda represents a significant break from the past, one that is more pragmatic than the rhetoric often suggests.
Congresswoman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez coined the term “Green New Deal” during her underdog run for Congress in 2018. With Senator Bernie Sanders, she introduced the first Green New Deal non-binding proposal early last year. The resolution, which offered mostly encouraging language about jobs, climate change, and health care, went down in defeat, 58-0, in the Senate after Republicans forced Democrats to vote on it. Most voted “present” to avoid recording an opinion on a resolution that had no force of law but plenty of electoral downsides.
As primary season rolled around, the Democratic presidential aspirants spent the interminable months leading up to the Iowa primary one-upping each other with increasingly ambitious versions of a Green New Deal—ambitions mostly measured by who could hang the biggest price tag on their proposal. Washington Governor Jay Inslee, the climate candidate, opened the bidding with a proposed $9 trillion plan. Senator Elizabeth Warren, the policy wonk, proposed $3 trillion. A week later, she endorsed Inslee’s plan as well. Senator Kamala Harris proposed $10 trillion. Finally, Sanders put an end to the bidding war, declaring he’d spend a preposterous $16 trillion over 15 years to cut emissions to zero and give everyone free electricity.
There was one non-participant in the bidding: Joe Biden. Biden initially proposed to spend $1.7 trillion, which he explicitly branded as moderate. In response to jeers from the party’s progressive and environmental wings, he upped his ante to a still comparatively modest $2 trillion.
In the months since Biden clinched the nomination, still more plans have flowed forth, now oriented toward the imperatives of winning a general election. In June, the House Select Committee on Climate Change released its plan proposing a national clean electricity standard, heavy subsidies for electric vehicles, and major investments in R&D for low carbon manufacturing and industry. A few weeks later, the Biden campaign released its “Build Back Better” initiative promising to address climate change through massive investments in the United States’ post-COVID-19 economic recovery. Build Back Better pledged $1.7 trillion over ten years for everything from an America First manufacturing program to massive investment in infrastructure to technological innovation.
Although the details vary, all of the these plans share several features that suggest that Democrats, should they win power in November, are likely to break with a number of long-held environmental orthodoxies that have hamstrung legislative efforts politically and undermined the efficacy of proposed policies practically.
Consider the economy. Since the early years of the Obama administration, Democrats have understood that climate action needed to create jobs and economic growth. But long-standing commitments to the environmental community’s regulatory agenda have rendered that effort more rhetorical than actual. Democrats did include almost $100 billion in investments in clean energy and related technologies in stimulus and economic recovery programs through the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act (ARRA) of 2009. But back then, ARRA was mistakenly expected to be mere prelude to the passage of an economy-wide carbon cap-and-trade program. It wasn’t. Efforts by proponents to sell the Democratic cap and trade proposal as a jobs program were simply not credible.
In 2021, by contrast, the stimulus and recovery will be the main event. The new Democratic proposals call for trillions, not billions, in investments in clean energy technology, infrastructure, research and development, and tax incentives—all meant to get the economy moving again while transitioning it toward a low carbon future.
Following from this first break with environmental orthodoxy, carbon pricing doesn’t prominently feature in any of the recent plans. That shift matters. Since climate change emerged as an environmental issue in the early 1990s, pricing carbon—either through an emissions trading program or a carbon tax—has been central to both Democratic and environmental strategies for addressing the issue. This remained the case as recently as 2016, when Sanders forced presidential candidate Hillary Clinton to include a carbon tax in the Democratic platform.
But since Trump’s election, and especially after Ocasio-Cortez’s groundbreaking campaign in 2018, many progressives have soured on carbon pricing, which they view as, at best, insufficient to deeply and rapidly cut emissions and, at worst, market-worshipping “green neoliberalism” that enriches corporations while shifting the costs of climate action to working people. The Democratic leadership seems happy to oblige the progressives here. After losing congressional majorities in 1994 and 2010 following attempts to pass a tax on emissions and cap and trade legislation, respectively, neither House Speaker Nancy Pelosi nor Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer appear interested in asking their members to walk that plank again. Neither Biden’s earlier primary plan, his subsequent unity plan with Sanders, nor the Build Back Better program makes any mention of carbon pricing.
The final long-standing doctrine to fall is the idea that U.S. and global emissions can be deeply cut with wind and solar energy alone. Much of the industrial, manufacturing, and transportation sectors—and almost the entirety of the agriculture sector—are difficult to electrify, particularly with intermittent renewable energy. In turn, there has been growing acknowledgement among centrist and even progressive Democrats that both advanced nuclear energy and carbon capture and storage are likely to be necessary. In both the Biden-Sanders Unity Plan and the House Select Committee on Climate Change plan, Democrats call for substantial direct support for these technologies and treat them as being on par with wind and solar energy in a proposed Federal Clean Energy Standard.
As the new Democratic climate agenda has taken shape, it has sidelined many of the mainstream and well-established environmental groups that have traditionally set the terms of national policy debates. Instead, the evolving climate framework has been pioneered by a younger and more diverse cohort of progressives working outside of the institutional environmental movement and better connected to the party’s base and its broader ideological interests. These new climate activists have largely abandoned the “pollution paradigm,” which imagined that climate change could be addressed in the same way 1970s-era regulatory regimes reduced air and water pollution, and have instead embraced technology, infrastructure, innovation, industrial policy, and public investment.
Nonetheless, the old green ideology remains influential in other ways. Democrats continue to promote small scale and low productivity organic farming, now often rebadged as “regenerative agriculture,” as a climate solution, despite the fact that multiple studies have concluded that a large scale shift to organic farming would substantially increase greenhouse gas emissions from the agriculture sector. In response to this evidence, many environmental advocates have claimed that various practices associated with organic agriculture can sequester vast quantities of carbon in soil. These claims are, at best, speculative. But that hasn’t stopped Democrats in Congress from proposing massive subsidies in the form of tax incentives and emissions credits for carbon sequestered in soil.
The Democratic change of heart on nuclear energy has also not been matched by consistent policies to assure that nuclear will play a significant role in the United States’ future. At the behest of old guard environmental members, the House Select Committee plan includes a number of poison pills that would make it more difficult to continue operating existing nuclear plants and to license and site new advanced reactors.
More broadly, the shift of Democratic focus from shutting down fossil infrastructure to building clean infrastructure hasn’t been matched by a similar commitment to remove many of the regulatory obstacles that make it difficult to build new infrastructure in a timely and cost-effective fashion. Simply calling for new infrastructure, and even funding it, will not be enough.
Nonetheless, the long-term shift in the Democratic climate agenda is real, significant, and marks the decentering of the traditional environmental community from the politics of climate and clean energy. The environmental community’s long-standing climate regulatory agenda is dead. Its singular focus upon renewable energy is dying. Its old skepticism toward economic growth and industrial policy has been abandoned entirely in the wake of two deep economic shocks in barely more than a decade.
Since at least the turn of the century, it has been clear that those ideas—some of which underpinned the environmental movement’s greatest 20th-century accomplishments—were not up to the task of deeply cutting emissions: the biggest challenge for the 21st century. As Democrats look toward 2021, it appears Biden and leading Democrats in Congress have finally gotten the message.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-07--Lockdowns Have Been Hard on Organized Crime, Too

Lockdowns Have Been Hard on Organized Crime , Too COVID-19 has unleashed another pandemic , one that , in the long term , could be much more damaging to livelihoods around the world than the virus : an outbreak of cybercrime .
But so far , governments are ignoring the problem , and big business is tacitly nurturing it .
In turn , coronavirus-era cybercrime is growing faster than the virus , and policymakers and executives must put a stop to it .
Thanks to the pandemic lockdowns , the economy has been increasingly digitized .
More data is being @ @ @ @ @ @ @ are being conducted over the internet—but also new types of data .
A business handling sensitive documents and data might have used a secure in-office network pre-pandemic .
But it is now likely to have that data dispersed across a variety of ( often personal ) devices and insecure home networks .
To be sure , most of this is necessary .
Businesses have had to find ways to survive through lockdowns .
And there will be plenty of long-term economic gains driven by the flexibility and efficiency of remote working .
But @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it goes beyond business .
More countries are embracing e-governance .
For example , Egypt , South Sudan and , most notably , Bangladesh have started moving toward the Estonia model , where even voting can be completed online .
Estonia ’ s experience in 2007 , when Russian state-backed hackers brought the country to a standstill and threatened its national security , should be a warning to us all .
Yet the biggest threat is not from politically motivated state-backed hackers but from a broader range of more dispersed cybercriminals .
Interpol @ @ @ @ @ @ @ during the pandemic , with a further increase expected .
Like business , traditional organized crime groups have struggled to continue their operations through COVID-19 restrictions around the world .
For example , closed borders , lack of communication , and difficulties accessing customers affects them just like legitimate businesses .
Meanwhile , some of the world ’ s newly destitute may be driven to criminality as well , and lax online business practices—as well as lax extradition and law enforcement procedures—could make cybercrime attractive .
Ahead of a rising tide of hacking @ @ @ @ @ @ @ get more serious about tackling it .
But early indications are not promising .
In August , Uber ’ s ex-security boss was accused of covering up a data breach by paying hackers a $ 100,000 ransom to delete the data they had stolen ( which belonged to 57 million Uber drivers and passengers ) .
It is unclear whether the hackers did delete the data after payment ; only 1 in 4 such ransom payments actually achieve this desired result .
But Uber is just the tip of an iceberg .
In @ @ @ @ @ @ @ executives who had experienced a ransomware attack admitted to paying the hacker ’ s ransom .
On average , hackers are paid $ 24 billion each year .
This makes the illicit trade much smaller than drugs or human trafficking , but it is also much younger .
It took decades for professionalized transnational cartels to emerge , but that transition for cybercriminals could be faster .
If anything , paying ransoms could spur it on .
There is a reason why many countries do not negotiate with terrorists .
Paying ransoms is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ kicks the can down the road by strengthening criminals .
That ’ s especially true for data crimes .
A hacker can gain access to millions of individuals ’ information , be paid off handsomely by the data owner , and still profit through identity theft and fraud .
And because the data owner won ’ t have informed the victims , they will not be in a position to protect themselves ( by ordering replacement bank cards , for example ) .
Of course , it is easy to see why company @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can affect a company by stalling its operations , damaging its reputation , and hitting its bank balance when it is forced to pay compensation for a data breach .
Earlier this year , Equifax was ordered to pay $ 700 million as a result of a data breach class action lawsuit , which will have cost it even more in reputational damage and loss of trust among customers .
A ransom payment to a hacker may have seemed cheaper .
But it won ’ t be in the long run .
And @ @ @ @ @ @ @ need to increase offline backups , hire professionals to test for vulnerabilities , and ensure that all staff are cyber-aware to secure their systems and data .
Meanwhile , countries around the world need to cooperate more to bring these criminals to justice .
Given the asymmetric nature of cybercrime ( a disproportionate number of criminals are in Russia , China , and Iran , and many victims are in the United States and Europe ) this is as much a political issue as it is a law enforcement one .
Finally , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ publicly promoted and enforced .
Executives who pay ransoms to hackers may be unaware of the criminal nature of their act , and they likely don ’ t fear prosecution .
This must change .
Building societies and economies that are resilient to the threats of the future means putting data privacy front and center of politics and business .
If it isn ’ t , individuals will simply distrust digital trade , and economic growth will be stunted at a time when conducting business online is an absolute lifeline .

COVID-19 has unleashed another pandemic, one that, in the long term, could be much more damaging to livelihoods around the world than the virus: an outbreak of cybercrime. But so far, governments are ignoring the problem, and big business is tacitly nurturing it. In turn, coronavirus-era cybercrime is growing faster than the virus, and policymakers and executives must put a stop to it.
COVID-19 has unleashed another pandemic, one that, in the long term, could be much more damaging to livelihoods around the world than the virus: an outbreak of cybercrime. But so far, governments are ignoring the problem, and big business is tacitly nurturing it. In turn, coronavirus-era cybercrime is growing faster than the virus, and policymakers and executives must put a stop to it.
Thanks to the pandemic lockdowns, the economy has been increasingly digitized. More data is being shared online—think of how many more transactions are being conducted over the internet—but also new types of data. A business handling sensitive documents and data might have used a secure in-office network pre-pandemic. But it is now likely to have that data dispersed across a variety of (often personal) devices and insecure home networks.
To be sure, most of this is necessary. Businesses have had to find ways to survive through lockdowns. And there will be plenty of long-term economic gains driven by the flexibility and efficiency of remote working.
But there is a dark side, and it goes beyond business. More countries are embracing e-governance. For example, Egypt, South Sudan , and, most notably, Bangladesh have started moving toward the Estonia model, where even voting can be completed online. Estonia’s experience in 2007, when Russian state-backed hackers brought the country to a standstill and threatened its national security, should be a warning to us all. Yet the biggest threat is not from politically motivated state-backed hackers but from a broader range of more dispersed cybercriminals.
Interpol has warned that cybercrime has already spiked during the pandemic, with a further increase expected. Like business, traditional organized crime groups have struggled to continue their operations through COVID-19 restrictions around the world. For example, closed borders, lack of communication, and difficulties accessing customers affects them just like legitimate businesses. Meanwhile, some of the world’s newly destitute may be driven to criminality as well, and lax online business practices—as well as lax extradition and law enforcement procedures—could make cybercrime attractive.
Ahead of a rising tide of hacking, governments and business will have to get more serious about tackling it. But early indications are not promising. In August, Uber’s ex-security boss was accused of covering up a data breach by paying hackers a $100,000 ransom to delete the data they had stolen (which belonged to 57 million Uber drivers and passengers). It is unclear whether the hackers did delete the data after payment; only 1 in 4 such ransom payments actually achieve this desired result.
But Uber is just the tip of an iceberg. In a 2018 report, 53 percent of executives who had experienced a ransomware attack admitted to paying the hacker’s ransom. On average, hackers are paid $24 billion each year. This makes the illicit trade much smaller than drugs or human trafficking, but it is also much younger. It took decades for professionalized transnational cartels to emerge, but that transition for cybercriminals could be faster.
If anything, paying ransoms could spur it on. There is a reason why many countries do not negotiate with terrorists. Paying ransoms is a short-term solution, but it simply kicks the can down the road by strengthening criminals. That’s especially true for data crimes. A hacker can gain access to millions of individuals’ information, be paid off handsomely by the data owner, and still profit through identity theft and fraud. And because the data owner won’t have informed the victims, they will not be in a position to protect themselves (by ordering replacement bank cards, for example).
Of course, it is easy to see why company executives might pay ransoms. A hack can affect a company by stalling its operations, damaging its reputation, and hitting its bank balance when it is forced to pay compensation for a data breach. Earlier this year, Equifax was ordered to pay $700 million as a result of a data breach class action lawsuit, which will have cost it even more in reputational damage and loss of trust among customers. A ransom payment to a hacker may have seemed cheaper.
But it won’t be in the long run. And as business stays online, business leaders need to increase offline backups, hire professionals to test for vulnerabilities, and ensure that all staff are cyber-aware to secure their systems and data. Meanwhile, countries around the world need to cooperate more to bring these criminals to justice. Given the asymmetric nature of cybercrime (a disproportionate number of criminals are in Russia, China, and Iran, and many victims are in the United States and Europe) this is as much a political issue as it is a law enforcement one. Finally, laws against ransom payments need to be publicly promoted and enforced. Executives who pay ransoms to hackers may be unaware of the criminal nature of their act, and they likely don’t fear prosecution. This must change.
Building societies and economies that are resilient to the threats of the future means putting data privacy front and center of politics and business. If it isn’t, individuals will simply distrust digital trade, and economic growth will be stunted at a time when conducting business online is an absolute lifeline.


Empire of Graveyards

Recently , I had an interesting talk with an Afghan friend in Austria who left Afghanistan with his family almost two decades ago .
Most of his childhood friends , it seems , have joined the Taliban to fight a war that they were literally born into .
My friend wasn ’ t from Kabul or any other cities where the fall of the Taliban was cheered 19 years ago when the U.S. invasion began .
He was born in Maidan Wardak , a province 40 minutes south of the capital that is largely controlled by militants even now .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ is ending with a whimper almost two decades later , with those same Taliban poised for some sort of power-sharing agreement with Kabul .
After decades of war and heartbreak and broken promises and shattered lives , so little seems to have changed in Afghanistan .
I ’ ve spent my life trying to figure out why .
It all started on Sept. 12 , 2001 , the day after the World Trade Center was destroyed .
My elementary school teacher in Austria asked me about the terrorists who attacked New York City @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been .
“ Do you know why they did that ?
” she asked .
I had no answer .
I was 9 at the time .
People made fun of me , saying al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden was my uncle .
Friends at school cheered the upcoming war .
“ They will bomb your people , ” they said .
( They weren ’ t wrong . )
When my parents watched the news about the country they left years ago , I sat in the living room with them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Kabul , celebrated the fall of the Taliban regime , shaved their beards , and shed their burqas , familiar scenes in Western media , it quickly became clear that not everything on the ground was that black and white .
I remember an old Afghan man who started crying in front of the camera .
He said American soldiers captured and tortured him without reason .
Others described how their homes were bombed and how they lost their sons or daughters .
Many years later , I was sitting in front @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
But now , I was the one trying to explain the situation on the ground to the rest of the world .
Why did everything fail ?
Why is Afghanistan still facing so much war and carnage ?
How can this mess be resolved ?
The war began as it is ending , in failure .
On Oct. 7 , 2001 , the first-ever armed drone strike slammed into the southern city of Kandahar , seeking Taliban Supreme Leader Mullah Mohammed Omar .
At the time , there was not a single @ @ @ @ @ @ @ U.S. military and intelligence officials were sure their Predators had found the one-eyed mullah sometimes described as bin Laden ’ s right-hand man .
They hadn ’ t .
A Hellfire missile hit some Afghans—but Mullah Omar was not among them , and nobody asked who had been killed .
It was the template for a pattern of indiscriminate strikes that would repeat itself over and over again during years of war , as American drones—sold as “ precision weapons ” to decapitate Taliban and al Qaeda leadership—instead hunted and haunted innocent Afghan @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
The whole world knows it , ” Pasta Khan , a nomad from the southeastern province of Khost , told me when I met him inside a Khost City hotel .
Sipping tea and eating jalebi , Khan described what happened to his father , brother , and 12 other tribesmen in June 2015 as they prepared a funeral .
“ Their cars were hit by rockets .
All of them were murdered , ” he kept saying .
Soon afterward , the U.S. military claimed to have killed a dozen terrorists @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Not a single one of Khan ’ s fellow nomads was among the ranks of the Taliban .
He ’ s still traumatized , still afraid of the “ angels of death , ” as some Afghans call the drones .
The nomads I met used to have an anti-Taliban stance .
After the massacre , while they did not join the militants , they openly showed the Taliban a lot more sympathy .
Taliban commanders in both Pakistan and Afghanistan have repeatedly confirmed that drone strikes and civilian casualties are their best @ @ @ @ @ @ @ participate in jihad .
They want to avenge their relatives .
Often , they don ’ t have any other choice , ” a Taliban commander from Nangarhar province once told me .
One of his fighters was almost a kid .
He joined the group after an American drone killed his father .
The war in Nangarhar , and other rural areas of Afghanistan , is different from the war in Kabul .
There was plenty of terror and bloodshed in Kabul from brutal suicide attacks—first by the Taliban , later by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
But urban Afghans saw some economic progress , at least , while rural areas have few options and fewer opportunities .
In Kabul , the elites live in sheltered green zones : For them , rural Afghanistan may as well be a different country .
Provinces like Nangarhar suffered drone strikes , night raids by militias , and , as in 2017 , virtual carpet bombing , as the United States dropped its biggest nonnuclear weapon on a suspected Islamic State bastion in the Nangarhar district of Achin .
“ They use @ @ @ @ @ @ @ We are worthless , ” Mustafa , who declined to give his last name , told me when I visited his Taliban-controlled village a few weeks after the detonation of the so-called “ Mother of All Bombs.
” Afghans with more money left their homes and fled to Europe or other countries ; Mustafa had no such prospects .
Mustafa decried the rash of health issues plaguing locals in the wake of the bombing ; more than two years later , Afghan parliamentarians demanded a probe into the health impacts of the massive @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the time I met Mustafa and other locals , Nangarhar was the most bombed area in Afghanistan .
But it ’ s not the only one .
In the northern province of Baghlan , the war continues today—despite a February agreement between the Taliban and U.S. forces to begin peace talks with an eye toward ending hostilities .
On the night of Aug. 26 , an airstrike by the Afghan military targeted a religious school in the province .
Six civilians , including several teenage students , were killed .
“ American bombs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a local while sending me photos of what appeared to be the remnants of U.S.-made weapons .
And Afghans are still killing each other .
I thought back to Dayed Shah Mehrzad , a medic from Baghlan I visited last year , who described the internecine tragedy of decades of war .
“ Afghans , sometimes even relatives , are killing each other .
I treat both sides , but sometimes they want to continue their fight inside my practice , ” he told me .
Shah introduced me to Lemar , a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ who also declined to give his last name ) .
Like all the other young men I met , he belonged to a generation that knew nothing other than war .
When the U.S. invasion took place , he was a small child ; some of his fellow fighters were not yet born .
He was not interested in peace talks , especially not with the government in Kabul .
“ They are worse than the infidels .
They have killed many of us , ” he spat .
Later , I found @ @ @ @ @ @ @ own brother , too , who worked for the local government in Baghlan .
Would Lemar kill his brother ?
I never got an answer .
The majority of Afghans remain poor and disenfranchised , while kleptocratic elites scramble to salvage their privilege .
Nineteen years after the beginning of the war , launched to stamp out al Qaeda and the Taliban and remake Afghanistan , the United States has apparently lost .
Taliban leaders , once hunted by drones or hooded in Guantánamo Bay , now preen victoriously in their face-to-face negotiations @ @ @ @ @ @ @ elite in Kabul , meanwhile , worry not about losing the country but about losing their position and privilege and the mountains of cash that made many of them very wealthy .
The war on terrorism in Afghanistan promised reconstruction , women ’ s rights , economic dynamism , justice for the 9/11 attacks , and democracy .
All have fallen flat .
The majority of Afghans remain poor and disenfranchised , while kleptocratic elites scramble to salvage their privilege .
After two decades of broken promises , grave political mistakes , countless @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , Afghanistan ’ s future is still uncertain .
After two decades , numerous visits , and countless interviews with Afghans in the country and out , I ’ m in the same place I was as a 9-year-old boy chastised by his teacher .
I still don ’ t have the answers—and wonder if I ever will .

Recently, I had an interesting talk with an Afghan friend in Austria who left Afghanistan with his family almost two decades ago. Most of his childhood friends, it seems, have joined the Taliban to fight a war that they were literally born into. My friend wasn’t from Kabul or any other cities where the fall of the Taliban was cheered 19 years ago when the U.S. invasion began. He was born in Maidan Wardak, a province 40 minutes south of the capital that is largely controlled by militants even now.
Recently, I had an interesting talk with an Afghan friend in Austria who left Afghanistan with his family almost two decades ago. Most of his childhood friends, it seems, have joined the Taliban to fight a war that they were literally born into. My friend wasn’t from Kabul or any other cities where the fall of the Taliban was cheered 19 years ago when the U.S. invasion began. He was born in Maidan Wardak, a province 40 minutes south of the capital that is largely controlled by militants even now.
A war begun to oust the Taliban is ending with a whimper almost two decades later, with those same Taliban poised for some sort of power-sharing agreement with Kabul. After decades of war and heartbreak and broken promises and shattered lives, so little seems to have changed in Afghanistan. I’ve spent my life trying to figure out why.
It all started on Sept. 12, 2001, the day after the World Trade Center was destroyed. My elementary school teacher in Austria asked me about the terrorists who attacked New York City, a place I’d never been.
“Do you know why they did that?” she asked. I had no answer. I was 9 at the time. People made fun of me, saying al Qaeda leader Osama bin Laden was my uncle. Friends at school cheered the upcoming war. “They will bomb your people,” they said. (They weren’t wrong.)
When my parents watched the news about the country they left years ago, I sat in the living room with them. While many urban Afghans, especially in Kabul, celebrated the fall of the Taliban regime, shaved their beards, and shed their burqas, familiar scenes in Western media, it quickly became clear that not everything on the ground was that black and white. I remember an old Afghan man who started crying in front of the camera. He said American soldiers captured and tortured him without reason. Others described how their homes were bombed and how they lost their sons or daughters. Many years later, I was sitting in front of such people listening to their stories. But now, I was the one trying to explain the situation on the ground to the rest of the world. Why did everything fail? Why is Afghanistan still facing so much war and carnage? How can this mess be resolved?
The war began as it is ending, in failure. On Oct. 7, 2001, the first-ever armed drone strike slammed into the southern city of Kandahar, seeking Taliban Supreme Leader Mullah Mohammed Omar. At the time, there was not a single proper photograph of the target. But U.S. military and intelligence officials were sure their Predators had found the one-eyed mullah sometimes described as bin Laden’s right-hand man.
They hadn’t. A Hellfire missile hit some Afghans—but Mullah Omar was not among them, and nobody asked who had been killed. It was the template for a pattern of indiscriminate strikes that would repeat itself over and over again during years of war, as American drones—sold as “precision weapons” to decapitate Taliban and al Qaeda leadership—instead hunted and haunted innocent Afghan villagers.
“They are killing us. The whole world knows it,” Pasta Khan, a nomad from the southeastern province of Khost, told me when I met him inside a Khost City hotel. Sipping tea and eating jalebi, Khan described what happened to his father, brother, and 12 other tribesmen in June 2015 as they prepared a funeral. “Their cars were hit by rockets. All of them were murdered,” he kept saying. Soon afterward, the U.S. military claimed to have killed a dozen terrorists in a drone strike in Khost. Not a single one of Khan’s fellow nomads was among the ranks of the Taliban. He’s still traumatized, still afraid of the “angels of death,” as some Afghans call the drones.
The nomads I met used to have an anti-Taliban stance. After the massacre, while they did not join the militants, they openly showed the Taliban a lot more sympathy. Taliban commanders in both Pakistan and Afghanistan have repeatedly confirmed that drone strikes and civilian casualties are their best recruiting methods. “They want to participate in jihad. They want to avenge their relatives. Often, they don’t have any other choice,” a Taliban commander from Nangarhar province once told me. One of his fighters was almost a kid. He joined the group after an American drone killed his father.
The war in Nangarhar, and other rural areas of Afghanistan, is different from the war in Kabul. There was plenty of terror and bloodshed in Kabul from brutal suicide attacks—first by the Taliban, later by the local branch of the Islamic State. But urban Afghans saw some economic progress, at least, while rural areas have few options and fewer opportunities. In Kabul, the elites live in sheltered green zones: For them, rural Afghanistan may as well be a different country. Provinces like Nangarhar suffered drone strikes, night raids by militias, and, as in 2017, virtual carpet bombing, as the United States dropped its biggest nonnuclear weapon on a suspected Islamic State bastion in the Nangarhar district of Achin.
“They use our country as their weapon playground. We are worthless,” Mustafa, who declined to give his last name, told me when I visited his Taliban-controlled village a few weeks after the detonation of the so-called “Mother of All Bombs.” Afghans with more money left their homes and fled to Europe or other countries; Mustafa had no such prospects. Mustafa decried the rash of health issues plaguing locals in the wake of the bombing; more than two years later, Afghan parliamentarians demanded a probe into the health impacts of the massive bomb on the local population.
At the time I met Mustafa and other locals, Nangarhar was the most bombed area in Afghanistan. But it’s not the only one.
In the northern province of Baghlan, the war continues today—despite a February agreement between the Taliban and U.S. forces to begin peace talks with an eye toward ending hostilities. On the night of Aug. 26, an airstrike by the Afghan military targeted a religious school in the province. Six civilians, including several teenage students, were killed. “American bombs are still killing us,” alleged a local while sending me photos of what appeared to be the remnants of U.S.-made weapons.
And Afghans are still killing each other. I thought back to Dayed Shah Mehrzad, a medic from Baghlan I visited last year, who described the internecine tragedy of decades of war.
“Afghans, sometimes even relatives, are killing each other. I treat both sides, but sometimes they want to continue their fight inside my practice,” he told me.
Shah introduced me to Lemar, a Taliban fighter in his early 20s (who also declined to give his last name). Like all the other young men I met, he belonged to a generation that knew nothing other than war. When the U.S. invasion took place, he was a small child; some of his fellow fighters were not yet born. He was not interested in peace talks, especially not with the government in Kabul. “They are worse than the infidels. They have killed many of us,” he spat. Later, I found out that his fight was with his own brother, too, who worked for the local government in Baghlan. Would Lemar kill his brother? I never got an answer.
The majority of Afghans remain poor and disenfranchised, while kleptocratic elites scramble to salvage their privilege. Nineteen years after the beginning of the war, launched to stamp out al Qaeda and the Taliban and remake Afghanistan, the United States has apparently lost. Taliban leaders, once hunted by drones or hooded in Guantánamo Bay, now preen victoriously in their face-to-face negotiations with senior U.S. officials. The political elite in Kabul, meanwhile, worry not about losing the country but about losing their position and privilege and the mountains of cash that made many of them very wealthy.
The war on terrorism in Afghanistan promised reconstruction, women’s rights, economic dynamism, justice for the 9/11 attacks, and democracy. All have fallen flat. The majority of Afghans remain poor and disenfranchised, while kleptocratic elites scramble to salvage their privilege.
After two decades of broken promises, grave political mistakes, countless failures, and constant war and destruction, Afghanistan’s future is still uncertain. After two decades, numerous visits, and countless interviews with Afghans in the country and out, I’m in the same place I was as a 9-year-old boy chastised by his teacher. I still don’t have the answers—and wonder if I ever will.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-07--Is This the Beginning of Kyrgyzstan’s Next Revolution?

Is This the Beginning of Kyrgyzstan ’ s Next Revolution ?
On Monday , the day after Kyrgyzstan held parliamentary elections , around 20,000 people gathered in the capital , Bishkek , angered by reports of widespread vote-buying and registration fraud .
Just four of the 16 parties competing in elections secured seats in the next parliament , and the proximity of the winning parties to current President Sooronbay Jeenbekov further heightened tensions .
By dawn on Tuesday , after hours of clashes with security forces that left 590 people injured and one dead , protesters had taken over the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to brew tea between kicking in portraits of elected officials and setting fire to the fourth floor .
Kyrgyzstan ’ s Central Election Commission announced that it had annulled the parliamentary elections on Tuesday morning , creating a power vacuum : Whoever steps in will set the timeline and tone of new elections .
This is not Kyrgyzstan ’ s first revolutionary experience—uprisings in 2005 and 2010 ushered in new governments—but this time appears different , standing out in its potential for meaningful reform .
Kyrgyzstan ’ s political landscape is highly fragmented @ @ @ @ @ @ @ vehicles for powerful people ’ s interests .
Of the more than 250 registered parties in Kyrgyzstan , 16 competed in Sunday ’ s election for 120 seats .
With electoral rules dictating that parties must clear a 7 percent threshold , only four parties—representing just 65 percent of overall turnout—secured seats .
The parties that fared best in the election—Birimdik and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan—are new , but both have close ties to the current government .
Jeenbekov , in power since 2017 , was hand-picked to succeed President Almazbek Atambayev .
Under his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ controversial bills targeting freedom of speech and association .
Jeenbekov fell out with Atambayev in early 2019 , leading to the splintering of the ruling Social Democratic Party of Kyrgyzstan ( SDPK ) .
With the SDPK not competing in this year ’ s race , elected politicians “ changed shoes , ” a local idiom meaning to switch parties , rather than bow out .
Many major SDPK figures , including the president ’ s younger brother , Asylbek Jeenbekov , flocked to Birimdik .
Mekenim Kyrgyzstan was founded in 2015 and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ former customs official who was implicated in a major corruption scandal last November .
Both Birimdik and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan resorted to fraudulent measures to turn out votes on Sunday .
Domestic observers recorded irregularities at polling stations across the country .
The Central Election Commission received complaints of unknown individuals taking voter identification lists , people collecting cash in exchange for proof they had voted for a certain party , and minibuses carting people to cast their vote at strategic polling stations .
Following the announcement of the official results , crowds of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on Monday to decry the cheating .
By nightfall , police and security forces struggled to control the crowds , resorting to pepper spray and rubber bullets .
Videos show small teams of police running away from swarms of protesters .
When the sun rose on Tuesday , protesters still occupied the White House , Kyrgyzstan ’ s executive office .
Throughout the day , reports emerged of candidates and their supporters taking over other critical buildings in Bishkek , including the airport and State Registration Service , as well as state-owned mines @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Who is in charge ?
It ’ s not exactly clear who is running the government at the moment .
Jeenbekov issued a video statement on Tuesday underlining the importance of stability , but his whereabouts have not been confirmed .
Rumors that the president had left Bishkek buzzed on social media throughout the day .
Several hours later , the election commission announced it had annulled the results .
It didn ’ t take long for politicians to take it upon themselves to fill the power vacuum left by Jeenbekov ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a self-appointed extralegal Coordinating Council , made up of representatives from 13 parties , claimed “ full responsibility for overcoming the current situation.
” The men on the Coordinating Council are all veterans of Kyrgyz politics , prompting younger citizens to organize a counter-rally in the capital on Tuesday afternoon .
“ Lustration ” —a term that means “ to ceremonially purify ” in Latin and has been used recently in Eastern European countries to describe the process of dismissing and blocking people with experience in previous regimes from holding office—is the central @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ t see any possibility for meaningful reform if new leadership is selected from the pool of politicians who have played musical chairs in government positions for the last two decades .
Meanwhile , the previous parliament broke into two factions over the task of electing a new speaker and prime minister .
With their usual meeting place still occupied by protesters , they hunkered down in a movie theater and hotel to deliberate but struggled to reach the required quorum to choose new leadership .
The “ hotel faction , ” made @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Kyrgyzstan , picked Sadyr Japarov , a former opposition lawmaker , as the interim prime minister .
Because journalists were not allowed inside , it is unclear whether the selection process was legal .
Just 24 hours earlier , Japarov was in jail , serving an 11-year sentence for kidnapping a regional governor during 2013 protests calling to nationalize a gold mine .
Protesters released him after taking over the prison during clashes on Monday .
If a change in government follows , this would not be Kyrgyzstan ’ s first revolution .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ 2005 and 2010 due to large protests , both centered around the public ’ s frustration with corruption and the entrenchment of the presidents ’ families in Kyrgyzstan ’ s politics and economy .
In 2005 , large-scale protests broke out following accusations of vote-rigging in parliamentary elections—in which then-President Askar Akayev ’ s son and daughter were both running .
The process of replacing Akayev fell entirely on elites , and the interim government pushed Kurmanbek Bakiyev through as prime minister and acting president .
Bakiyev won easily in elections later that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ scandals and power shortages marred his legitimacy .
Spontaneous protests in response to heating and electricity costs eventually reached the capital .
In April , security forces opened fire on protesters and violence escalated , leaving at least 85 people dead .
Bakiyev fled the country , and opposition leaders announced they had formed an interim government with Roza Otunbayeva at the helm .
Otunbayeva , previously the minister of foreign affairs , oversaw the creation of a new constitution , with new rules meant to ensure a balance of executive power between @ @ @ @ @ @ @ need for more revolutions .
Otunbayeva ’ s passing power to Almazbek Atambayev , who was elected in October 2010 , was the first peaceful transition of power in Central Asia ’ s history .
There are important differences between Kyrgyzstan ’ s earlier revolutions and the current power struggle .
First , telecommunications technology has developed significantly since 2010 .
Internet access has grown from 16 percent in 2010 to 40 percent in 2019 , and the proliferation of mobile data makes it easier to organize collective action and share updates .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ those detained and where to find food , water , and milk left by neighbors .
The next day , journalists and protesters livestreamed rallies across the country , and Bishkek residents organized “ druzhiny , ” voluntary citizen patrols , to protect stores and homes from looting .
Second , Kyrgyzstani citizens are more practiced in voicing specific grievances to the state .
Kyrgyzstan has more liberal rules on expression than its neighbors , and protests are common .
But in the past , they have expressed broad discontent with few specific @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in politics this cycle have a specific policy platform , and , importantly , voice it through formal party structures .
If this younger generation of activists and leaders digs their heels in and refuses to recognize an interim government founded through backdoor deals , they have a chance to shape viable democratic institutions .
With protests over disputed presidential election results in Belarus now entering their second month , it ’ s understandable to try to make sense of recent developments in Kyrgyzstan through a wider regional lens .
But framing the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ terms is misplaced .
The uprising is driven by internal dynamics , not international ones , and looking to Russia or other post-Soviet states draws attention away from relevant local actors and issues .
As a member of the Eurasian Economic Union and host to a Russian military base , Kyrgyzstan is a strategic partner for Russia .
The Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a statement on Tuesday calling for a quick , legal resolution of the crisis .
While Russia is interested in Kyrgyzstan ’ s stability , it ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Putin has much of a say—or a preference—for who leads the country .
He called president Jeenbekov by the wrong name at a meeting last week .
Realistically , there is little chance of Kyrgyzstan ’ s domestic instability spilling over into neighboring countries .
In the meantime , keep an eye on intranational politics .
Kyrgyzstan ’ s north-south divide remains its strongest social and political cleavage , and the return of the hardcore nationalist Melis Myrzakmatov—who was mayor of Kyrgyzstan ’ s second largest city during the violent pogroms that followed @ @ @ @ @ @ @ No doubt , these are tense and uncertain times , but the resilience of Kyrgyzstan ’ s citizens and the determination of its activists to create a free society offer hope for a better future .

On Monday, the day after Kyrgyzstan held parliamentary elections, around 20,000 people gathered in the capital, Bishkek, angered by reports of widespread vote-buying and registration fraud. Just four of the 16 parties competing in elections secured seats in the next parliament, and the proximity of the winning parties to current President Sooronbay Jeenbekov further heightened tensions.
On Monday, the day after Kyrgyzstan held parliamentary elections, around 20,000 people gathered in the capital, Bishkek, angered by reports of widespread vote-buying and registration fraud. Just four of the 16 parties competing in elections secured seats in the next parliament, and the proximity of the winning parties to current President Sooronbay Jeenbekov further heightened tensions.
By dawn on Tuesday, after hours of clashes with security forces that left 590 people injured and one dead, protesters had taken over the executive building in central Bishkek, stopping to brew tea between kicking in portraits of elected officials and setting fire to the fourth floor.
Kyrgyzstan’s Central Election Commission announced that it had annulled the parliamentary elections on Tuesday morning, creating a power vacuum: Whoever steps in will set the timeline and tone of new elections. This is not Kyrgyzstan’s first revolutionary experience—uprisings in 2005 and 2010 ushered in new governments—but this time appears different, standing out in its potential for meaningful reform.
Why are people protesting?
Kyrgyzstan’s political landscape is highly fragmented, with most political parties serving as vehicles for powerful people’s interests. Of the more than 250 registered parties in Kyrgyzstan, 16 competed in Sunday’s election for 120 seats. With electoral rules dictating that parties must clear a 7 percent threshold, only four parties—representing just 65 percent of overall turnout—secured seats.
The parties that fared best in the election—Birimdik and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan—are new, but both have close ties to the current government. Jeenbekov, in power since 2017, was hand-picked to succeed President Almazbek Atambayev. Under his rule, the government has passed several controversial bills targeting freedom of speech and association. Jeenbekov fell out with Atambayev in early 2019, leading to the splintering of the ruling Social Democratic Party of Kyrgyzstan (SDPK).
With the SDPK not competing in this year’s race, elected politicians “changed shoes,” a local idiom meaning to switch parties, rather than bow out. Many major SDPK figures, including the president’s younger brother, Asylbek Jeenbekov, flocked to Birimdik. Mekenim Kyrgyzstan was founded in 2015 and is bankrolled by Raimbek Matraimov, a former customs official who was implicated in a major corruption scandal last November.
Both Birimdik and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan resorted to fraudulent measures to turn out votes on Sunday. Domestic observers recorded irregularities at polling stations across the country. The Central Election Commission received complaints of unknown individuals taking voter identification lists, people collecting cash in exchange for proof they had voted for a certain party, and minibuses carting people to cast their vote at strategic polling stations.
Following the announcement of the official results, crowds of protesters began to gather in the capital on Monday to decry the cheating. By nightfall, police and security forces struggled to control the crowds, resorting to pepper spray and rubber bullets. Videos show small teams of police running away from swarms of protesters.
When the sun rose on Tuesday, protesters still occupied the White House, Kyrgyzstan’s executive office. Throughout the day, reports emerged of candidates and their supporters taking over other critical buildings in Bishkek, including the airport and State Registration Service, as well as state-owned mines in other regions of the country.
Who is in charge?
It’s not exactly clear who is running the government at the moment. Jeenbekov issued a video statement on Tuesday underlining the importance of stability, but his whereabouts have not been confirmed. Rumors that the president had left Bishkek buzzed on social media throughout the day. Several hours later, the election commission announced it had annulled the results.
It didn’t take long for politicians to take it upon themselves to fill the power vacuum left by Jeenbekov’s weak statement. On Tuesday afternoon, a self-appointed extralegal Coordinating Council, made up of representatives from 13 parties, claimed “full responsibility for overcoming the current situation.” The men on the Coordinating Council are all veterans of Kyrgyz politics, prompting younger citizens to organize a counter-rally in the capital on Tuesday afternoon.
“Lustration”—a term that means “to ceremonially purify” in Latin and has been used recently in Eastern European countries to describe the process of dismissing and blocking people with experience in previous regimes from holding office—is the central demand of progressive Kyrgyzstanis, who don’t see any possibility for meaningful reform if new leadership is selected from the pool of politicians who have played musical chairs in government positions for the last two decades.
Meanwhile, the previous parliament broke into two factions over the task of electing a new speaker and prime minister. With their usual meeting place still occupied by protesters, they hunkered down in a movie theater and hotel to deliberate but struggled to reach the required quorum to choose new leadership.
The “hotel faction,” made up of politicians from Birimdik and Mekenim Kyrgyzstan, picked Sadyr Japarov, a former opposition lawmaker, as the interim prime minister. Because journalists were not allowed inside, it is unclear whether the selection process was legal. Just 24 hours earlier, Japarov was in jail, serving an 11-year sentence for kidnapping a regional governor during 2013 protests calling to nationalize a gold mine. Protesters released him after taking over the prison during clashes on Monday.
Is this a revolution?
If a change in government follows, this would not be Kyrgyzstan’s first revolution. The country experienced forceful leadership changes in 2005 and 2010 due to large protests, both centered around the public’s frustration with corruption and the entrenchment of the presidents’ families in Kyrgyzstan’s politics and economy.
In 2005, large-scale protests broke out following accusations of vote-rigging in parliamentary elections—in which then-President Askar Akayev’s son and daughter were both running. The process of replacing Akayev fell entirely on elites, and the interim government pushed Kurmanbek Bakiyev through as prime minister and acting president.
Bakiyev won easily in elections later that year, but by 2010, corruption scandals and power shortages marred his legitimacy. Spontaneous protests in response to heating and electricity costs eventually reached the capital. In April, security forces opened fire on protesters and violence escalated, leaving at least 85 people dead. Bakiyev fled the country, and opposition leaders announced they had formed an interim government with Roza Otunbayeva at the helm.
Otunbayeva, previously the minister of foreign affairs, oversaw the creation of a new constitution, with new rules meant to ensure a balance of executive power between the president and parliament to avoid any need for more revolutions. Otunbayeva’s passing power to Almazbek Atambayev, who was elected in October 2010, was the first peaceful transition of power in Central Asia’s history.
There are important differences between Kyrgyzstan’s earlier revolutions and the current power struggle.
First, telecommunications technology has developed significantly since 2010. Internet access has grown from 16 percent in 2010 to 40 percent in 2019, and the proliferation of mobile data makes it easier to organize collective action and share updates. On Monday, users posted advice for those detained and where to find food, water, and milk left by neighbors. The next day, journalists and protesters livestreamed rallies across the country, and Bishkek residents organized “druzhiny,” voluntary citizen patrols, to protect stores and homes from looting.
Second, Kyrgyzstani citizens are more practiced in voicing specific grievances to the state. Kyrgyzstan has more liberal rules on expression than its neighbors, and protests are common. But in the past, they have expressed broad discontent with few specific demands for change. Young people involved in politics this cycle have a specific policy platform, and, importantly, voice it through formal party structures.
If this younger generation of activists and leaders digs their heels in and refuses to recognize an interim government founded through backdoor deals, they have a chance to shape viable democratic institutions.
Will this affect regional geopolitics?
With protests over disputed presidential election results in Belarus now entering their second month, it’s understandable to try to make sense of recent developments in Kyrgyzstan through a wider regional lens. But framing the elections and their backlash in purely geopolitical terms is misplaced. The uprising is driven by internal dynamics, not international ones, and looking to Russia or other post-Soviet states draws attention away from relevant local actors and issues.
As a member of the Eurasian Economic Union and host to a Russian military base, Kyrgyzstan is a strategic partner for Russia. The Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a statement on Tuesday calling for a quick, legal resolution of the crisis. While Russia is interested in Kyrgyzstan’s stability, it’s a stretch to say that President Vladimir Putin has much of a say—or a preference—for who leads the country. He called president Jeenbekov by the wrong name at a meeting last week.
Realistically, there is little chance of Kyrgyzstan’s domestic instability spilling over into neighboring countries. In the meantime, keep an eye on intranational politics. Kyrgyzstan’s north-south divide remains its strongest social and political cleavage, and the return of the hardcore nationalist Melis Myrzakmatov—who was mayor of Kyrgyzstan’s second largest city during the violent pogroms that followed the last revolution—is a worrisome development.
No doubt, these are tense and uncertain times, but the resilience of Kyrgyzstan’s citizens and the determination of its activists to create a free society offer hope for a better future.


foreignpolicy--2020-10-07--How Bad History Feeds Far-Right Fantasies

The medieval world was an era of immense and global change , when monk-spies stole silkworms from China to bring the finest fabric of the age back to Constantinople , when the Malian king Mansa Musa went on the hajj with so much gold he collapsed the Mediterranean economy , and when arguably the greatest sports hero in history , Lord Eight Deer Jaguar Claw , used his skill in a ritual ballgame to build a kingdom in Central America .
A field of history that was once limited to Europe with the odd excursion into the Middle East is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of its own narrow origins .
Like all branches of history , medieval studies has become a battleground between not only academic factions but also political ones .
The rise of the so-called alt-right , the white nationalist march in Charlottesville , and horrific mass murders like the Christchurch mosque shooting have all involved neo-medieval invocations of a white supremacist past .
Within medieval studies , attempts to point out white supremacist framings have led to conflict between academic factions .
Most of the traditionalist academics , however , argue for the neutrality @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , rather than explicitly advancing it as a tool for pushing ideological aims .
That ’ s what makes it so startling to see outdated ideas in medieval history churned over in the defense of white innocence .
Jeff Fynn-Paul published a piece titled “ The myth of the ‘ stolen country ’ ” in the Spectator on Sept. 26 .
Fynn-Paul ’ s central argument is that Europeans are blameless for the death of innumerable Native Americans in the occupation of the New World , and that Americans and Canadians as a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Indigenous and cease apologizing for the Euro-American settler colonial past .
This is the ongoing project of “ white innocence , ” the denial of racism and colonial violence that becomes in itself racism and colonial violence , described so aptly by James Baldwin in his 1962 “ Letter to My Nephew ” as “ the chorus of the innocents screaming , ‘ No , this is not true .
How bitter you are , ’ ” as the oppression continues .
This is the “ All Lives Matter ” of right-wing academia—look @ @ @ @ @ @ @ why won ’ t you discuss them instead ?
Fynn-Paul claims , remarkably and falsely , “ In fact , the European track record shows them to be almost shockingly un-genocidal , given their clear technological advantages over the rest of the world for a period of several centuries.
” Fynn-Paul writes that , “ it is inevitable that a large proportion of New World inhabitants would have died within the first few decades after first contact ” due to the spread of new diseases .
He discusses this as an inevitable and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not only wiped out the Indigenous people but also means Europeans are blameless for the result .
This is a well-known theory , often dubbed “ virgin soil , ” originally designed to argue that the population of the New World was significantly larger than previously suspected .
Indeed , the latest scientific estimate is somewhere around 60 million inhabitants in the New World at that time—less than the 70-90 million inhabitants of Europe and less dense , but not a small number .
This became , unfortunately , the basis for excusing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and politics .
And if Jeff Fynn-Paul were a random commentator , this would be perhaps understandable .
But he is basing his article on his status as a medieval historian , so there is an expectation of research—and the idea of blameless conquest , of the accidental side effects of “ virgin soil epidemics , ” has been repeatedly debunked in both academic literature and in popular texts , such as Andrés Reséndez ’ s 2017 Bancroft Prize-winning book The Other Slavery : The Uncovered Story of Indian Enslavement .
As the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ “ the ‘ virgin soil ’ thesis was not crafted as an apology for the colonizers , and it still has some utility in explaining how history has unfolded .
It has , however , unfortunately hidden colonialism ’ s violence under a cloak of biological determinism.
” As a historian , Fynn-Paul can and should be expected to do better—years-old scholarly and public history work has certainly moved past this , and even basic research would have shown this .
Fynn-Paul pushes other blatant inaccuracies and falsehoods about the pre-Columbian Americas , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Natives were primitive farmers .
This means that ( with some exceptions ) they had no permanent settlements : they farmed in an area for a few decades until the soil got tired , before moving on to greener pastures where the hunting was better and the lands more fertile .
This is again a failure of basic research .
The notion of “ primitive farmers ” collapses with minimal investigation—the extensive agriculture of Cahokia , for example , supported a core city bigger than London or Paris at its medieval height—and carries @ @ @ @ @ @ @ agriculture in the Ohio Valley has been shown to be more prosperous than its colonial neighbors , and when the Pilgrims , among others , were only saved by the able farming and teaching of Natives .
On an even more basic level , popular history works have completely overturned the notions of “ primitive farmers , ” a lack of urbanization or complex civilization , or a lack of land ownership .
The year Fynn-Paul completed his Ph.D. , 2005 , was marked by the publication of Charles Mann ’ s bestselling @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Before Columbus , three years after Mann ’ s groundbreaking Atlantic article .
And idea of a complete lack of long-term land ownership is patently absurd—the Haida people have lived on the same archipelago for at least 10,500 years .
Perhaps most egregiously for a historian , Fynn-Paul fails to interrogate his sources or use even basic historical methodology .
The two immediate instances are his depiction of Columbus and the Spanish as benevolent explorers and his account of Mataoka and the Powhatan relationship with the English .
Fynn-Paul ’ s apologetics for @ @ @ @ @ @ @ reputation among the Spanish—he was arrested , taken to Spain in chains for a trial for tyranny , and , though pardoned by Queen Isabella , forbidden to return to Hispaniola—or his activities like capturing Native women as sex slaves for his men .
His contemporary Bartolomé de las Casas certainly did not think Columbus and the Spanish blameless for atrocities against Native Americans .
With his account of Mataoka—commonly called Pocahontas—Fynn-Paul uncritically chooses to simply accept John Smith ’ s account in his 1624 book The generall historie of Virginia , New @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the fact that he did not mention anything about Pocahontas in his earlier work , True Relation of Such Occurrences and Accidents of Note as Hath Hapned in Virginia Since the First Planting of that Colony , published in 1608 .
Smith ’ s honesty was questioned even at the time , including in George Percy ’ s 1625 A Trewe Relacyon , written specifically to counter John Smith ’ s account of the founding of the colony .
Taking such a blatantly self-congratulatory and exonerating account at face value is something we @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the survey level .
History is about interpretation , and those interpretations can vary greatly—but all have to be built on solid foundations .
Fynn-Paul ’ s foundation is ideology , and the results are both offensive and laughable .
If it were just the one article , placed in the Spectator and roundly mocked , we might ignore it—but it joins Cameron Hilditch ’ s similar caricature of a piece in the National Review , the violently anti-Indigenous and ahistorical “ The 1519 Project ” in the Federalist , and Bruce Gilley @ @ @ @ @ @ @ for Colonialism ” and now-withdrawn book series “ Problems of Anti-Colonialism ” for Lexington Books .
The Trump administration has chosen to interfere in the teaching of history to promote “ patriotic education , ” specifically to “ defend the legacy of America ’ s founding , the virtue of America ’ s heroes , and the nobility of the American character ” —an explicitly white-innocence approach—and in both the United Kingdom and the Netherlands pro-colonial nostalgia is on the rise .
In this climate , fighting back bad history that attempts to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ not merely an academic pursuit but a moral imperative .

The medieval world was an era of immense and global change, when monk-spies stole silkworms from China to bring the finest fabric of the age back to Constantinople, when the Malian king Mansa Musa went on the hajj with so much gold he collapsed the Mediterranean economy, and when arguably the greatest sports hero in history, Lord Eight Deer Jaguar Claw , used his skill in a ritual ballgame to build a kingdom in Central America. A field of history that was once limited to Europe with the odd excursion into the Middle East is now increasingly globalized , and increasingly critical of its own narrow origins.
The medieval world was an era of immense and global change, when monk-spies stole silkworms from China to bring the finest fabric of the age back to Constantinople, when the Malian king Mansa Musa went on the hajj with so much gold he collapsed the Mediterranean economy, and when arguably the greatest sports hero in history, Lord Eight Deer Jaguar Claw, used his skill in a ritual ballgame to build a kingdom in Central America. A field of history that was once limited to Europe with the odd excursion into the Middle East is now increasingly globalized, and increasingly critical of its own narrow origins.
Like all branches of history, medieval studies has become a battleground between not only academic factions but also political ones. The rise of the so-called alt-right, the white nationalist march in Charlottesville, and horrific mass murders like the Christchurch mosque shooting have all involved neo-medieval invocations of a white supremacist past. Within medieval studies, attempts to point out white supremacist framings have led to conflict between academic factions. Most of the traditionalist academics, however, argue for the neutrality of the medieval era in contemporary politics, rather than explicitly advancing it as a tool for pushing ideological aims.
That’s what makes it so startling to see outdated ideas in medieval history churned over in the defense of white innocence. Jeff Fynn-Paul published a piece titled “The myth of the ‘stolen country’” in the Spectator on Sept. 26. Fynn-Paul’s central argument is that Europeans are blameless for the death of innumerable Native Americans in the occupation of the New World, and that Americans and Canadians as a result must stop acknowledging land as being Indigenous and cease apologizing for the Euro-American settler colonial past. This is the ongoing project of “white innocence,” the denial of racism and colonial violence that becomes in itself racism and colonial violence, described so aptly by James Baldwin in his 1962 “Letter to My Nephew” as “the chorus of the innocents screaming, ‘No, this is not true. How bitter you are,’” as the oppression continues. This is the “All Lives Matter” of right-wing academia—look at these atrocities that happened elsewhere, why won’t you discuss them instead? Fynn-Paul claims, remarkably and falsely, “In fact, the European track record shows them to be almost shockingly un-genocidal, given their clear technological advantages over the rest of the world for a period of several centuries.”
Fynn-Paul writes that, “it is inevitable that a large proportion of New World inhabitants would have died within the first few decades after first contact” due to the spread of new diseases. He discusses this as an inevitable and unintentional side effect, and one that not only wiped out the Indigenous people but also means Europeans are blameless for the result. This is a well-known theory, often dubbed “virgin soil,” originally designed to argue that the population of the New World was significantly larger than previously suspected. Indeed, the latest scientific estimate is somewhere around 60 million inhabitants in the New World at that time—less than the 70-90 million inhabitants of Europe and less dense, but not a small number. This became, unfortunately, the basis for excusing Europeans from any wrongdoing in popular literature and politics. And if Jeff Fynn-Paul were a random commentator, this would be perhaps understandable. But he is basing his article on his status as a medieval historian, so there is an expectation of research—and the idea of blameless conquest, of the accidental side effects of “virgin soil epidemics,” has been repeatedly debunked in both academic literature and in popular texts, such as Andrés Reséndez’s 2017 Bancroft Prize-winning book The Other Slavery: The Uncovered Story of Indian Enslavement. As the historian Paul Kelton wrote in 2015, “the ‘virgin soil’ thesis was not crafted as an apology for the colonizers, and it still has some utility in explaining how history has unfolded. It has, however, unfortunately hidden colonialism’s violence under a cloak of biological determinism.” As a historian, Fynn-Paul can and should be expected to do better—years-old scholarly and public history work has certainly moved past this, and even basic research would have shown this.
Fynn-Paul pushes other blatant inaccuracies and falsehoods about the pre-Columbian Americas, writing:
In North America, most Natives were primitive farmers. This means that (with some exceptions) they had no permanent settlements: they farmed in an area for a few decades until the soil got tired, before moving on to greener pastures where the hunting was better and the lands more fertile.
This is again a failure of basic research. The notion of “primitive farmers” collapses with minimal investigation—the extensive agriculture of Cahokia, for example, supported a core city bigger than London or Paris at its medieval height—and carries into the colonial period, when Native agriculture in the Ohio Valley has been shown to be more prosperous than its colonial neighbors, and when the Pilgrims, among others, were only saved by the able farming and teaching of Natives. On an even more basic level, popular history works have completely overturned the notions of “primitive farmers,” a lack of urbanization or complex civilization, or a lack of land ownership. The year Fynn-Paul completed his Ph.D., 2005, was marked by the publication of Charles Mann’s bestselling 1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus, three years after Mann’s groundbreaking Atlantic article. And idea of a complete lack of long-term land ownership is patently absurd—the Haida people have lived on the same archipelago for at least 10,500 years.
Perhaps most egregiously for a historian, Fynn-Paul fails to interrogate his sources or use even basic historical methodology. The two immediate instances are his depiction of Columbus and the Spanish as benevolent explorers and his account of Mataoka and the Powhatan relationship with the English. Fynn-Paul’s apologetics for Columbus ignore even the explorer’s reputation among the Spanish—he was arrested, taken to Spain in chains for a trial for tyranny, and, though pardoned by Queen Isabella, forbidden to return to Hispaniola—or his activities like capturing Native women as sex slaves for his men. His contemporary Bartolomé de las Casas certainly did not think Columbus and the Spanish blameless for atrocities against Native Americans.
With his account of Mataoka—commonly called Pocahontas—Fynn-Paul uncritically chooses to simply accept John Smith’s account in his 1624 book The generall historie of Virginia, New England & the Summer Isles, despite the fact that he did not mention anything about Pocahontas in his earlier work, True Relation of Such Occurrences and Accidents of Note as Hath Hapned in Virginia Since the First Planting of that Colony, published in 1608. Smith’s honesty was questioned even at the time, including in George Percy’s 1625 A Trewe Relacyon, written specifically to counter John Smith’s account of the founding of the colony. Taking such a blatantly self-congratulatory and exonerating account at face value is something we teach students to identify and avoid at the survey level.
History is about interpretation, and those interpretations can vary greatly—but all have to be built on solid foundations. Fynn-Paul’s foundation is ideology, and the results are both offensive and laughable. If it were just the one article, placed in the Spectator and roundly mocked, we might ignore it—but it joins Cameron Hilditch’s similar caricature of a piece in the National Review, the violently anti-Indigenous and ahistorical “The 1519 Project” in the Federalist, and Bruce Gilley’s revoked article “The Case for Colonialism” and now-withdrawn book series “Problems of Anti-Colonialism” for Lexington Books.
The Trump administration has chosen to interfere in the teaching of history to promote “patriotic education,” specifically to “defend the legacy of America’s founding, the virtue of America’s heroes, and the nobility of the American character”—an explicitly white-innocence approach—and in both the United Kingdom and the Netherlands pro-colonial nostalgia is on the rise. In this climate, fighting back bad history that attempts to wash the blood from settler-colonial hands is not merely an academic pursuit but a moral imperative.