标签: Asia

亚洲

  • More than 500 Rohingya vanished at sea – what happened?

    More than 500 Rohingya vanished at sea – what happened?

    It has been nearly three weeks since two overcrowded boats carrying 530 Rohingya asylum seekers departed from Myanmar’s Rakhine State on June 29, and no contact has been made with anyone on board. Advocates working on Rohingya rights warn the entire group is likely lost, with the dangerous monsoon season and the unseaworthy condition of the converted vessels making mass casualties almost inevitable.

    The two boats, modified old fishing trawlers packed far past their safe capacity to carry as many people as possible, set out amid already rough monsoon seas and carried unreliable engines. Roughly half of those on board are believed to be women and children, and Chris Lewa, director of the Arakan Project — a group that advocates for Rohingya rights — says it is highly probable both vessels capsized, with few to no survivors. Due to the ongoing conflict that has crippled communications across Rakhine State, a full accounting of what happened may never be possible.

    Rakhine State has been mired in active conflict for years, with the Arakan Army insurgent group pushing Myanmar’s military out of most of the territory and laying siege to the junta’s last major stronghold in the state capital Sittwe, which is only accessible by air and sea. Nearly all telecommunications networks across the region have been cut off, leaving advocates like Lewa without direct access to on-the-ground sources in Sittwe and Sin Tet Maw, the Arakan Army-controlled departure point for the missing boats.

    Through a network of secondary contacts and scattered information, Lewa has confirmed the two boats departed hours apart on June 29, bound for southern Myanmar, where passengers were to be transferred to smaller vessels before moving overland through forest transit camps, across Thailand, and to the Malaysian border. Under normal smuggling routes, families would expect to hear from their loved ones within 7 to 10 days; after nearly three weeks of total silence, fears for their safety have grown unavoidable. So far, authorities in Bangladesh have recovered one woman’s body washed ashore, and local fishermen found multiple additional bodies off the coast between Myanmar’s Irrawaddy Delta and Mon State nine days after the boats’ departure. These findings align with Lewa’s assessment that the first boat capsized just hours after leaving Sin Tet Maw, while the second sank several days into its southeast journey.

    The crisis of the missing boats is rooted in the decades of systemic persecution and escalating instability that have left millions of Rohingya with no viable path to safety. More than one million Rohingya currently live in overcrowded, underfunded camps in southern Bangladesh, where aid resources have dwindled, formal employment is almost non-existent, and transnational smuggling networks operate with impunity. An additional 600,000 Rohingya remain trapped in Rakhine State: one quarter are confined to squalid internal displacement camps, while the rest eke out a precarious existence in communities caught between warring factions. Myanmar’s military junta has increasingly forced Rohingya men into conscription, while the Arakan Army — which claims to represent ethnic Rakhine people — has been repeatedly accused of severe human rights violations against the Rohingya population it distrusts. With prospects for safety and dignity at home nonexistent, fleeing to neighboring countries is the only option many see for survival.

    Malaysia, which already hosts 200,000 Rohingya, has become the most popular destination for asylum seekers, creating a lucrative, brutal trade for transnational human smuggling rings with established networks across Bangladesh, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia. Smugglers’ business model relies on packing as many people as possible into inadequate vessels, moving them undetected to Malaysia, and collecting fees ranging from $2,000 to $4,000 per person. Families that cannot pay face having their relatives detained, beaten, or even killed, with graphic videos of abuse sent to pressure relatives into raising the required funds.

    Smuggling routes have shifted repeatedly over the past decade in response to regional enforcement efforts. In 2015, after mass graves of trafficking victims were discovered in primitive jungle transit camps, the Thai government cracked down on overland smuggling routes, closing camps in mangrove swamps and rubber plantations where captives were held until ransoms were paid. This crackdown forced many smuggling operations to redirect boats toward Aceh, Indonesia, where local fishing communities initially welcomed the Rohingya as fellow persecuted Muslims. That welcome has since eroded, with anti-Rohingya social media campaigns spreading hostility across the country in recent years.

    Direct sea routes to Malaysia remain largely blocked: the Malaysian Navy regularly intercepts refugee boats and pushes them back into international waters, and local fishing communities refuse to assist smuggling operations. As a result, smuggling networks have reverted to using Thailand as their primary transit hub. Today, large mother vessels pick up Rohingya off the coasts of Rakhine or Bangladesh’s Teknaf, staying only long enough to unload passengers before moving on to avoid detection by authorities from both countries. Smugglers use satellite phones to coordinate with local networks, paying fishermen to transfer passengers to smaller craft that land on southern Thai or eastern Sumatran coasts. Once full payment is received, refugees are moved secretly overland to Malaysia. Other groups are dropped on southern Myanmar’s coast, then transported overland through border crossings to Thailand and on to the Malaysian border. For Rohingya fleeing Rakhine State, however, every escape route begins with a dangerous open sea crossing, since all land routes out of the conflict-torn region remain closed.

    The United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees estimates that as of mid-2026, at least 4,700 Rohingya have fled the region this year alone on 74 boats, and Lewa estimates the total number of departures since September 2025 may be as high as 10,000 — a sharp increase from previous years, directly driven by the worsening intolerable conditions facing the community in both Rakhine and Bangladesh. The UN has called for the creation of formal safe passage routes for Rohingya seeking asylum, but no country in the region has been willing to accept more refugees or facilitate safer passage, leaving thousands of desperate people to the mercy of brutal smuggling networks and dangerous monsoon seas.

  • Australia ‘deeply frustrated’ over Laos methanol poisoning charges

    Australia ‘deeply frustrated’ over Laos methanol poisoning charges

    A cross-border diplomatic dispute has erupted between Australia and Laos over the planned legal outcome of a 2024 toxic alcohol tragedy that killed six foreign tourists, including two 19-year-old Australian travelers. The fatal incident unfolded in November 2024 at the Nana Backpacker Hostel in Vang Vieng, a popular Southeast Asian backpacking destination. Six guests — Australians Bianca Jones and Holly Morton-Bowles, alongside victims from the United Kingdom, the United States, and Denmark — died after drinking complimentary hostels shots laced with illegal methanol, a toxic industrial solvent commonly found in paint thinner that is often cut into illicit alcohol to reduce production costs.

    Months after the tragedy, new reports of expected extraordinarily lenient charges against those responsible have triggered sharp condemnation from the Australian government. Australian media first reported Thursday that Lao authorities had notified families of the Australian victims that the most severe charges pending against the accused carry a combined maximum penalty of just one year of imprisonment and a fine of roughly A$1,600, equal to approximately $1,100 USD or £829 GBP. This comes months after 10 people linked to the hostel already received suspended sentences and small fines of just $185 USD each on charges of destroying evidence — a outcome the brother of one victim previously labeled an “absolute joke”.

    In an official statement, the Australian government expressed it is “deeply frustrated and bitterly disappointed” by Laos’ failure to pursue more severe charges that match the scale of the tragedy. Foreign Minister Penny Wong has already summoned Laos’ ambassador to Canberra to relay Australia’s formal objection, and the government has appointed special envoy Pablo Kang to travel to Laos on Friday to explore all possible avenues for action and deliver Australia’s stance directly to local authorities. Wong also confirmed she will raise the issue directly with her Lao counterpart during an upcoming ASEAN foreign ministers meeting in Manila next week.

    “This devastating news will only add to the immense pain and grief suffered by the families and friends of Holly and Bianca,” the Australian Foreign Ministry statement said. “We have consistently made clear our expectations that charges should reflect the gravity of the tragedy. This includes the Prime Minister and I expressing these expectations directly to our respective counterparts.”

    Family members of the Australian victims have spoken out publicly to express their overwhelming anger at the planned sentence. “Feeling furious would be an understatement,” Bianca Jones’ father Mark Jones told Australian public broadcaster ABC. “To think that the lives of my daughter, and another five people, are worth less than a year in prison and less than $1,600. I’m calling on the Australian government to do all they can to intervene. For Prime Minister Albanese to reach out to his counterpart in Laos to insist that some form of genuine justice is served for the deaths of two Australian citizens.” Holly Morton-Bowles’ father Shaun Bowles added that the expected lenient charges were “very hard to comprehend”.

    As of Friday morning, Lao authorities have not officially confirmed the pending charges, though the BBC understands a public press conference is scheduled for later the same day to address the case. The Lao embassy in Canberra has also been contacted by media for comment, with no response issued as of yet.

  • China hits out at British Steel nationalisation

    China hits out at British Steel nationalisation

    A major diplomatic dispute between China and the United Kingdom has erupted after London moved to fully nationalise loss-making British Steel, a move Beijing has condemned as an unfair seizure of private property.

    Last year, the UK government already took over day-to-day operational control of British Steel’s primary facility in Scunthorpe, while formal ownership remained with China’s Jingye Group. That arrangement severely constrained Whitehall’s ability to make long-term strategic decisions about the plant’s future. This deadlock broke this week, when Parliament passed emergency legislation on Wednesday authorizing public takeover of steel assets that pass a public interest test. On Thursday, Downing Street formally executed the nationalisation, arguing that bringing the struggling steelmaker into public hands is the only way to protect thousands of domestic jobs and preserve what officials call a “vital national capability” for the UK’s industrial base.

    Beijing immediately pushed back against the decision. In a formal statement released Friday, China’s Ministry of Commerce said the country “firmly opposes and is strongly dissatisfied with the British government’s decision.” The ministry accused the UK of disregarding the tangible economic and social contributions Jingye has made to the UK since acquiring the steelmaker, adding that the forced nationalisation carried out under the banner of national security “seriously infringed upon Jingye’s legitimate rights and interests and severely undermined the confidence of Chinese companies investing in the UK.” Beijing has called on London to uphold its binding obligations under the China-UK Bilateral Investment Treaty, and noted that it will closely track developments while supporting Jingye in pursuing all legal avenues to defend its interests. No specific countermeasures were outlined in the statement.

    Jingye, which has confirmed the company was losing approximately £700,000 per day prior to the full takeover, has already stated it intends to pursue financial compensation for the nationalisation. The BBC has so far been unable to secure an on-the-record response from Jingye’s leadership regarding Thursday’s formal announcement.

    For the UK government, the nationalisation resolves the operational uncertainty that has hung over the Scunthorpe plant for months. With full public ownership, officials now have full authority to map out the facility’s future while keeping its critical blast furnaces operational. However, the long-term financial burden is substantial: the UK’s National Audit Office estimated in March that the Scunthorpe works already costs public coffers roughly £1.3 million per day, a figure Business Secretary Peter Kyle acknowledged the government would cover “for the immediate future.” Analysts broadly agree that Downing Street has no intention of retaining permanent ownership of the loss-making business.

    The timing of the dispute is particularly awkward for UK politics, as incoming Prime Minister Andy Burnham is set to take office on Monday. Burnham will now be forced to navigate a delicate balancing act: managing the fallout from the nationalisation while preserving the economic benefits that come from strong trade and investment ties with the world’s second-largest economy. The row threatens to create an early foreign policy strain on the new premiership, adding another layer of complexity to already fragile Sino-British relations.

  • Philippines condemns Chinese media depicting it as monkey in AI video

    Philippines condemns Chinese media depicting it as monkey in AI video

    A decade after a landmark international arbitration ruling on South China Sea territorial claims, tensions between the Philippines and China have erupted into a new diplomatic row, sparked by an offensive AI-generated cartoon published by China’s state-run outlet China Daily. The controversial animation, posted to the outlet’s public Facebook page on July 10, depicts the Philippines as a cowering monkey wearing a national flag shirt, shoved onto a rickety boat-based karaoke stage by large arms emblazoned with the flags of the United States and Japan. After being berated for singing an incorrect tune, the monkey pulls out a sign referencing the 2016 South China Sea arbitration award before being thrown into the sea and struck by a water cannon — a deliberate reference to repeated encounters between Chinese and Philippine vessels in the disputed waters.

    Manila’s leadership has roundly condemned the imagery, labeling it dehumanizing, racist, and unacceptable in civil diplomatic discourse. In an official statement, the Philippine Department of Foreign Affairs argued that political and legal disagreements between the two nations do not justify the use of derogatory, dehumanizing content that violates basic norms of state-to-state communication. The ministry demanded immediate removal of the video, warning that the offensive imagery and accompanying misinformation only deepen mutual distrust between the two neighbors. The Philippine defense ministry went further, describing the clip as contemptible propaganda that exposes what it called the moral and intellectual bankruptcy of China’s official propaganda apparatus. Defense Secretary Gilbert Teodoro, who was personally sanctioned with a travel ban by Beijing earlier this year, called the pattern of aggressive messaging impossible to ignore, referencing what he described as erratic behavior from Chinese authorities in recent months. As of press time, the video remains publicly accessible on China Daily’s Facebook page, and Chinese official bodies have not issued any response to Manila’s formal rebuke.

    This latest incident comes amid a steady escalation of maritime frictions between Beijing and Manila over the past decade, rooted in overlapping territorial claims to two key contested features: the Spratly Islands and Scarborough Shoal, which China refers to as Huangyan Island. Geographically, Scarborough Shoal sits just 160 kilometers off the coast of the Philippines, more than 800 kilometers closer to Manila than to mainland China. In recent years, Chinese Coast Guard vessels have regularly deployed high-pressure water cannons against Philippine civilian and military vessels operating near the shoal, resulting in vessel damage and crew injuries. Just last June, tensions flared twice in quick succession: Beijing installed a floating barrier across the entrance to Scarborough Shoal’s lagoon, which was removed only after Manila filed a formal diplomatic protest, and later announced a travel ban barring Teodoro and his immediate family from entering mainland China, Hong Kong, and Macau.

    The current row falls on the ten-year anniversary of the 2016 Permanent Court of Arbitration ruling at The Hague, which sided with Manila in a case brought by the Philippines, concluding that China’s sweeping nine-dash line claims across most of the South China Sea have no legal foundation under international law. Beijing has consistently rejected the ruling, refusing to recognize the tribunal’s jurisdiction over the territorial dispute. In the caption accompanying its controversial video, China Daily reiterated Beijing’s long-held position, framing the arbitration award as not a tool for peace but rather a deliberate pretext for confrontation framed as international law. The caption repeated Beijing’s narrative that the Philippine government is allowing itself to be used as a pawn in the geopolitical strategies of outside powers, specifically the US and Japan, by stirring up tensions in the disputed waterway.

    The monkey cartoon is not an isolated incident: it is the latest in a series of satirical, mocking posts published by China Daily on its Facebook page in recent weeks targeting Philippine actions in the South China Sea. Previous posts in the series have depicted the Philippines as a clown and a snake, among other unflattering animal and character portrayals. This escalation in rhetorical and symbolic aggression comes as the Philippines has deepened its security cooperation with the United States and other regional allies in recent years, stepping up its own patrols and resistance to Chinese territorial assertions in the contested areas.

  • John Esposito, would-be Catholic priest turned renowned scholar of Islam, dies aged 86

    John Esposito, would-be Catholic priest turned renowned scholar of Islam, dies aged 86

    John Esposito, a globally celebrated American scholar, professor and author whose lifelong work upended pervasive Western stereotypes of Islam and Muslims, passed away at 86 on July 15 due to complications from heart surgery. His death was announced this week by colleagues at Georgetown University, his long-time academic home in Washington, D.C.

    Born to an Italian Catholic family in Brooklyn, New York, Esposito never set out to become one of the world’s foremost voices on Islamic studies. He initially planned to become a Franciscan priest, but a required year of study in world religions while pursuing a PhD in Catholic theology at Temple University changed the trajectory of his life and career. It was there that he met pioneering Palestinian-American Islamic scholar Ismail al-Faruqi, who took Esposito on as his first doctoral student and encouraged him to study Arabic.

    Immersed in a classroom majority made up of Muslim students from across the globe, from Egypt to Malaysia and Indonesia, Esposito quickly developed a deep fascination with Islamic life, religious law and its intersection with global politics that would shape his 50-plus year career. He completed his PhD in 1974, when academic positions and publishing opportunities in Islamic studies were virtually non-existent — a landscape that shifted dramatically after the 1979 Iranian Revolution, a turning point he later joked launched his entire career.

    Over decades of work, Esposito wrote, edited and contributed to nearly 55 books on Islam, the vast majority of which pushed back against what he identified as widespread misinformation and manufactured narratives about Muslim communities, particularly in the period following the 9/11 attacks. One of his most influential works, *Who Speaks for Islam? What a Billion Muslims Really Think*, co-authored with American Muslim scholar Dalia Mogahed, drew on years of large-scale global Gallup survey data to deliver a factual counter-narrative to the damaging negative stereotypes that dominated Western media coverage of Muslims at the time.

    In 1993, Esposito founded Georgetown’s Prince Alwaleed Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding with a $20 million grant from Saudi royal Alwaleed bin Talal, establishing a permanent institutional home for interfaith dialogue and rigorous Islamic scholarship in the United States. He also played a key role in securing a permanent place for Islamic studies within the American Academy of Religion, a milestone that solidified the field’s standing in mainstream U.S. academia. Beyond his institutional work, he was an unflinching critic of government and societal crackdowns on Muslim groups across the globe, and a vocal advocate for causes including Palestinian rights and the release of imprisoned former Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan.

    News of Esposito’s death drew an outpouring of tributes from academics, global leaders, and public figures across the world, who hailed his intellectual courage, generous mentorship, and lifelong commitment to bridging divides. Georgetown professor of Islamic civilization Jonathan Brown, who counted Esposito as a mentor, wrote on X that Esposito never wavered from advocating for the right of all people to practice their faith freely, and that he “instinctively knew it was wrong to condemn others just because the mob was shouting for it.”

    Nihad Awad, executive director of the Council on American-Islamic Relations, noted that Esposito dedicated his career to advancing accurate understanding of Islam and Muslims at a time when prejudice and misinformation dominated public discourse, educating generations of students, policymakers, journalists and religious leaders globally. Hady Amr, the Biden administration’s former top diplomat for Palestinian affairs, called Esposito a “visionary,” adding that the world is “better off for the contributions of Dr Esposito’s mind, heart and spirit.”

    Malaysian Prime Minister Anwar Ibrahim, who knew Esposito since the 1970s and often sought his counsel, praised his personal generosity and intellectual rigor, noting he “stuck with me through thick and thin.” Former Turkish President Abdullah Gül added that Esposito’s introduction of Islam to Western audiences was “beautiful and graceful.”

    For his groundbreaking work advancing cross-cultural understanding, Esposito was awarded seven honorary doctorates from academic institutions across the world. He remained an active scholar and contributor to Middle East Eye up until his death, leaving a lasting legacy of intellectual courage and radical empathy that has shaped the study of Islam for decades.

  • Japan’s imperial family is diminishing. Plan for male-only succession could make it worse

    Japan’s imperial family is diminishing. Plan for male-only succession could make it worse

    TOKYO — Japan’s parliament is set to approve a controversial revision to the Imperial House Act on Friday, a piece of legislation that critics warn threatens the long-term survival of the country’s 1,500-year-old hereditary monarchy by entrenching a rigid male-only succession rule amid a rapidly shrinking and aging imperial household.

    Under the existing law, women born into the imperial family are barred from ascending the Chrysanthemum Throne, even when they are the incumbent emperor’s direct eldest child. This rule blocks 24-year-old Princess Aiko, Emperor Naruhito’s only daughter and one of the most popular members of the royal family, from succeeding her father. Public support for Aiko’s accession remains widespread across Japan, but the law dictates the line of succession will next pass to Naruhito’s 60-year-old younger brother Crown Prince Akishino, followed by Akishino’s 19-year-old son Prince Hisahito — the first male royal child born into the immediate imperial family in four decades. After Hisahito, the next eligible heir is 90-year-old Prince Hitachi, Naruhito’s elderly uncle.

    Today, only 5 of the 16 adult members of the imperial family are men, and there are no minor children in the household. This demographic collapse is the core backdrop to the legislative revision, which the government of Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi has framed as necessary to protect the purity of the paternal imperial bloodline, which conservative leaders argue is the only source of the emperor’s symbolic authority and legitimacy. While the current emperor’s mother is a commoner, the Imperial House Law requires all heirs to be born to men of royal descent.

    The most contested provision in the revised law would allow the imperial family to adopt unmarried male descendants of distant paternal imperial branches, who gave up their royal status in post-World War II reforms, into the household to sire future heirs. A second, less controversial provision would allow princesses who marry commoners to retain their royal status and official duties, a change from current law that requires them to renounce their titles after marrying outside the imperial family. That change was added to address longstanding criticism of the existing rule that pushed princesses like Mako, Naruhito’s niece, to leave the imperial family entirely after marrying a commoner, a move many observers saw as an escape from the institution’s strict, suffocating constraints.

    Scholars and critics have denounced the revision as an explicit move to block female monarchs and entrench patriarchal traditions, rather than a practical solution to the monarchy’s demographic crisis. “It’s a declaration to prevent female monarchs and to defend the male-lineage at all costs,” explained Hideya Kawanishi, a Nagoya University expert on Japanese monarchy. “They cannot say it’s male chauvinism, so they call it tradition.”

    Prominent Japanese feminist scholar Chizuko Ueno pointed out the stark irony of the nation’s first female prime minister leading the push for male-only succession. She also criticized the framework’s dehumanizing approach to royal women, noting that it “treat male royals as stallions and put female royals under pressure as ‘childbearing machines’ to produce male offspring.” That pressure already took a documented toll on Empress Masako, a Harvard-educated former diplomat and commoner who developed a stress-related mental health condition after decades of public criticism for failing to produce a male heir following Princess Aiko’s birth.

    Even former senior palace officials warn the male-only system leaves the monarchy extremely unstable after Prince Hisahito. “Because of the male-only succession rules and the dismissal of princesses who marry commoners, the monarchy after Hisahito is extremely unstable,” former Imperial Household Agency chief Shingo Haketa told Kyodo News recently.

    Historians note the male-only system has not functioned as claimed throughout Japanese history: nearly half of all past emperors were born to concubines, a practice that was abolished 100 years ago under Emperor Taisho, Naruhito’s great-grandfather, eliminating the primary safety net that previously guaranteed male heirs. A 2005 government proposal to reform the law to allow female monarchs was scrapped after Prince Hisahito’s birth, leaving the crisis unaddressed.

    Critics also question the practicality of the adoption provision. The distant male relatives eligible for adoption are at least 36 generations removed from Emperor Naruhito, tracing their shared lineage back to a common ancestor 600 years ago, after 51 members of 11 branch imperial families renounced their royal status in 1947 to reduce the postwar financial burden on the monarchy. Many question whether any of these distant relatives would agree to upend their lives to enter the highly restrictive imperial institution, where members have no control over their careers, housing, or personal choices. “Who wants the son of an adoptee who nobody knows to be emperor instead of Aiko?” asked Yoshinori Kobayashi, a cartoonist who has campaigned publicly for Aiko’s succession.

    Asahiro Kuni, an 81-year-old former member of a renounced imperial branch who worked as an engineer for a major Japanese corporation, told TBS he would advise his own family to decline any invitation to rejoin the royal household. “It’s cruel to tell 15-year-olds to change the entire course of their life for this,” he said, adding he supports allowing female monarchs to lead the institution.

    Polling and public commentary confirm broad public support for Princess Aiko’s accession. “The emperor is a symbolic figure, and I don’t see why women cannot serve in the role,” said Junichiro Tsujimura, 78-year-old founder of a popular sushi chain. Another Tokyo resident, 78-year-old Yoshio Iwase, noted Aiko is the emperor’s direct legitimate heir, adding that “there used to be female emperors in Japan’s history, so why not now?” Japan has had eight female monarchs in its history, with the last being Empress Gosakuramachi who ruled from 1762 to 1770.

    Many observers also worry the government’s push to entrench male-only succession runs counter to the legacy of former Emperor Akihito, who abdicated in 2019 after working to modernize the monarchy, connect it closer to the Japanese public, and apologize for Japan’s actions in World War II. Palace watchers widely believe Akihito supports reform to allow female succession, and Emperor Naruhito has also signaled quiet disapproval of the current bill. In a June statement, Naruhito said he hoped discussions on the revision would reach a conclusion “that will gain understanding of the people” — a comment interpreted by observers as a subtle expression of his displeasure with the government’s approach.

  • One man’s hunger strike changed India’s map. Can it still change politics?

    One man’s hunger strike changed India’s map. Can it still change politics?

    Seventy-one years after a single activist’s 58-day hunger strike reshaped the political map of the world’s largest democracy, another Indian protester is testing the enduring power of voluntary self-denial as a political tool. Educationist and climate activist Sonam Wangchuk has now survived 19 days on nothing but salt water during an indefinite hunger strike in New Delhi, shedding more than 9 kilograms as he advocates for sweeping education reforms in support of the online satirical Cockroach Janta Party movement. As his health declines rapidly, public concern over his condition has grown, and the Delhi High Court has ordered the national government to monitor his vital signs and provide emergency medical intervention if required.

    Wangchuk’s protest is far from an anomaly in India’s modern political history. No other nation has integrated the hunger strike into its political fabric as deeply as India, a tradition rooted in centuries of religious practice and refined into a core tool of anti-colonial resistance and post-independence activism. Long before the founding of the Indian republic, major South Asian faiths including Hinduism, Buddhism, and Jainism have long framed voluntary fasting as a morally significant act of self-denial, a framework that Mahatma Gandhi, the leader of India’s independence movement, adapted to modern political struggle.

    Between 1918 and his assassination in 1948, Gandhi undertook at least 15 major fasts to oppose religious violence, caste discrimination, and British colonial rule. He argued that a hunger strike was not an act of coercion, but a moral gesture of suffering designed to awaken the conscience of opponents and the public alike. His longest fast stretched 21 days, while his final 1948 fast, completed just weeks before his death, helped end communal bloodshed in Delhi. Writing on the eve of that fast, Gandhi described fasting as a peaceful alternative to violent resistance: “Fasting is his last resort in the place of the sword.”

    The 1947 fast Gandhi held in Kolkata to end brutal religious rioting won praise even from critics of the tactic. The British-run *Statesman* newspaper noted at the time that while it had long disagreed with the use of fasting as a political tool, “never in a long career has Mahatma Gandhi, in our eyes, fasted in a simpler, worthier cause than this, not one calculated for immediate effective appeal to the public conscience.”

    Independent India inherited this centuries-old tradition, and hunger strikes have since been deployed to demand action on nearly every major national issue: farmers’ rights, caste-based affirmative action, environmental protection, anti-corruption legislation, and the repeal of controversial national security laws. High-profile cases dot modern Indian history: In 2011, iconic activist Anna Hazare’s 13-day fast reignited a national anti-corruption movement that captured the attention of the entire country. In India’s northeast, activist Irom Sharmila refused all solid food for 16 years to protest the draconian Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act, surviving only through forced nasal tube feeding by state authorities. Prominent social activist Medha Patkar has repeatedly held prolonged fasts to demand fair compensation and rehabilitation for communities displaced by large-scale dam projects.

    While hunger strikes are a global protest tactic, used by suffragettes in Britain and Irish republican nationalists as a tool of anti-colonial resistance across the British Empire, scholars argue the practice holds unique weight in India. “But in India, where governments can become deeply unresponsive, protesters often see fasting as the only way to force those in power to act,” explains Sayantan Saha Roy, an anthropologist at the University of Connecticut who studies the politics of fasting. Saha Roy notes that Gandhi’s transformation of the ancient religious practice into a modern moral and political act created a uniquely rich tradition of hunger strike protest in the country. “In a world of self-interested politics, they stand out as acts of self-sacrifice. As the protester’s body weakens, the moral and political pressure on those in power grows.”

    That pressure, however, depends on public engagement to succeed. “Hunger strikes have to be performative to be persuasive. They’re not just aimed at the state, but at the public, whose outrage can pressure those in power,” Saha Roy says. He points to the 1970s and 1980s Irish republican hunger strikes as an example of how the tactic works: by framing their suffering as proof of the state’s cruelty, protesters sought to mobilize public support for their cause. “But there’s no guarantee the audience will respond, which is what makes hunger strikes such a precarious form of protest.”

    For all its deep cultural roots, the hunger strike has faced consistent criticism from India’s leading political thinkers since independence. If Gandhi elevated the tactic to a respected moral weapon, B.R. Ambedkar, the architect of the Indian constitution, was deeply skeptical of its use in a democratic republic. In a 1949 landmark speech, Ambedkar argued that once constitutional channels for redress were established, fasting and civil disobedience should be replaced by formal democratic processes, warning that unregulated direct action became the “grammar of anarchy.” “The sooner they are abandoned, the better for us,” he said.

    That debate has persisted into the 21st century. During Anna Hazare’s 2011 anti-corruption fast, leading political philosopher Pratap Bhanu Mehta argued that high-profile hunger strikes can become “deeply coercive.” When tied to a protester’s moral authority, he wrote, a fast unto death “amounts to blackmail.”

    Public skepticism has grown in recent years, fueled by a wave of performative, short-duration fasts staged by politicians for media attention. Social media is regularly filled with jokes and allegations that politicians sneak meals behind closed doors, ending staged “fasts” with lavish private feasts. Many fasts last only a few hours, while others are carefully produced media spectacles complete with branded stages, live news coverage, and pre-planned photo opportunities. Not all acts of self-denial carry the same moral or political weight, as historical outcomes reflect: Potti Sriramulu’s 1952 fast, which ended in his death on the 58th day, ultimately forced Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru’s government to create the new state of Andhra for Telugu-speaking people, a change that paved the way for the full linguistic reorganization of India’s state borders. By contrast, Hazare’s high-profile 2011 fast galvanized public support but saw its momentum fade quickly, and Sharmila’s 16-year protest failed to force a repeal of the law she opposed.

    From a medical perspective, prolonged hunger strikes are always simultaneously a political action and a life-threatening emergency. After two weeks without solid food, the human body begins breaking down muscle tissue as well as stored fat, and electrolyte imbalances can trigger fatal cardiac arrhythmias. Even ending a fast carries risks, as reintroducing food too quickly can cause life-threatening metabolic complications. It is common practice for Indian authorities to hospitalize hunger strikers and administer forced feeding to prevent death, a practice that has been widely criticized by activists.

    As Wangchuk’s health continues to decline, a growing coalition of opposition leaders, fellow activists, artists, and public figures have called on him to end his fast. Yet despite widespread cynicism toward staged protest fasts, the belief that voluntary suffering can shift political outcomes in ways speeches and marches cannot remains deeply rooted in Indian political culture.

    Wangchuk’s protest follows the long-established script of Gandhian fasting, Saha Roy explains: “In the public demonstration of his suffering, Wangchuk seems to be following Gandhi’s path. As his health deteriorates, his protest gains traction and raises the political stakes for the government. How this unfolds remains to be seen.”

    The outcome of Wangchuk’s fast will not only determine the fate of his demand for education reform: it will also offer a new measure of the enduring power of one of India’s oldest and most controversial political rituals.

  • I thought we’d grow old together, says band leader whose girlfriend died in Thai bar inferno

    I thought we’d grow old together, says band leader whose girlfriend died in Thai bar inferno

    On a busy Monday night at Bangkok’s Rong Beer Na Lat Phrao bar, members of popular Thai indie group Thotsakan took the stage to play for a packed house of fans. What was supposed to be a routine, joyful performance quickly turned into one of Thailand’s deadliest entertainment venue disasters in recent memory, leaving 33 people dead and 15 others fighting for their lives with critical injuries. Survivors of the blaze recount chaotic, terrifying escapes and grapple with overwhelming grief, while the tragedy has sparked urgent new calls for stricter fire safety enforcement across the country’s nightlife spots.

    Athipat Wichan, Thotsakan’s 32-year-old founder and band leader, was off-stage working on new song ideas when the fire broke out. Within seconds, ferocious flames swallowed the stage, cut all power to the venue, and turned a fun night out into a fight for survival. In an interview with BBC Thai just one day after the blaze, Athipat described stumbling through the dark to reach the exit, only to be met with a wall of fire that blocked his path. “I almost didn’t make it out in time,” he said, still reeling from the shock.

    For Thotsakan, the tragedy has been unthinkably devastating. Four of the 11 band members who were at the venue that night perished in the inferno: female vocalist Nahathai Satjalert, who was also Athipat’s girlfriend, male vocalist Thitiwat Kaewkanha, keyboardist Pruttipong Phutmon, and new drummer Nathaphat Thammanitha, who had only joined the band a month prior. Pruttipong, the keyboardist, had even been planning to leave the group soon, while Thitiwat had been talking about celebrating Athipat’s birthday just days later. “Instead of celebrating my birthday, we ended up arranging a funeral,” Athipat said, speaking from Nahathai’s funeral where Buddhist monks chanted in the background and mourners filled the hall, overwhelmed by grief.

    Athipat, who suffered injuries to his head and arms in the blaze, carries a heavy weight of regret. He had brought Nahathai into the band, and the pair had dreamed of growing old together. “I had imagined us being together until we’re old, her scolding me until we’re old, but now I can’t hear her voice any more,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let you be here… I want to apologise and I want to say that I love her very much and will continue to love her every day.” He is also devastated by the loss of his three bandmates, each of whom brought unique energy and talent to the group he founded 12 years earlier.

    Athipat launched Thotsakan when he was just 20 years old, drawing inspiration from his love of Thai literature to name the band after the iconic primary antagonist from the Ramakien, Thailand’s national epic. After five years of performing, he stepped back to join another group, but that stint only lasted a few months before he decided to revive Thotsakan for a second iteration with a new roster of musicians. Most of the members playing at the bar the night of the fire were part of this new phase of the band, which had become a beloved staple of Bangkok’s independent music scene.

    Guitarist Chanate Trasing, another survivor of the blaze, described the moment the fire started, saying he initially mistook the smoke building on stage for dry ice, a common stage effect. But he quickly realized something was wrong when the smoke began swirling rapidly instead of dispersing slowly like dry ice. He smelled burning plastic that stung his nose, dropped his guitar immediately, and jumped off the stage to run for safety. He recalled seeing Pruttipong disoriented in the chaos, looking back and forth unsure of which way to go. “When I started running, I thought he would chase after me. It was only when I got out that I realised he didn’t,” Chanate said, speaking just after collecting Nathaphat’s body from the city mortuary. The last image he carries from that night, before chaos broke out, is the warm sight of “the smiles of the bar-goers enjoying our music.”

    The deadly fire has reignited longstanding debates about fire safety compliance and regulation enforcement at entertainment venues across Thailand. Survivors have reported that multiple exit doors were locked on the night of the blaze, and there was a clear lack of clear emergency exit signage throughout the venue. Thai authorities have launched an investigation into whether criminal negligence on the part of the venue owners contributed to the high death toll, but many critics are also calling out government regulatory agencies for failing to enforce existing fire safety rules consistently.

    Athipat echoed these widespread concerns, saying the tragedy has forever changed what it feels like to step on stage for performers. “I wish venues had higher safety standards so when we perform, we can enjoy ourselves like before without having to worry,” he said. “These days, I believe that if I or anyone from my band goes on stage, they’ll think about [the fire] and feel alarmed and uncomfortable.”

    Looking forward, the remaining members of Thotsakan plan to take time to grieve their enormous loss before charting a path forward. Athipat says the band will eventually regain its footing and return to making music, telling fans to hold on for what comes next. For Chanate, however, the decision to continue performing is not so clear. With a young toddler and a family to support, he says he has to reconsider his commitment to a career in live music, even though he loves the work deeply enough to have quit a stable office job to pursue it. “I believe everyone has fears,” he said.

    While the trauma of that deadly night will stay with all the survivors for the rest of their lives, many are clinging to the small, warm memory of what came before the fire: a room full of fans smiling, lost in the sound of the music the band loved creating.

  • As heatwaves strike, Europeans turn to prized Chinese air-conditioner

    As heatwaves strike, Europeans turn to prized Chinese air-conditioner

    As record-shattering heatwaves continue to bake Western Europe, shifting consumer habits and long-standing regulatory barriers have created an unexpected boom for Chinese air conditioning manufacturers, who have carved out a massive new market by designing products tailored to the continent’s unique needs.

    For years, most European households went without air conditioning. Mild summer temperatures and strict urban building codes—particularly in historic city centers that ban permanent exterior modifications for traditional external AC units—kept ownership rates far lower than in regions like North America or East Asia. But this year’s extreme heat has upended that status quo: Western Europe logged its hottest June on record in 2026, with temperatures pushing past 40°C (104°F) across major German cities, and forecasters warn more intense heatwaves are still to come before the summer ends.

    The turning point for many residents came with Midea’s PortaSplit, a portable split-system air conditioner engineered specifically to comply with European building regulations. Steven Scholtysek, a 36-year-old engineer living in a heat-trapping attic apartment in Hamelin, Germany, describes the device as a complete game-changer for surviving this summer’s swelter. Unlike traditional portable AC units that are bulky, inefficient, and require blocking an entire window to vent hot air, the PortaSplit features a lightweight external unit that users can install themselves outside a window, no drilling or permanent structural changes required. It is marketed as compatible with nearly all common European window designs, solving a problem that has stymied many homeowners for years.

    Demand for the PortaSplit has exploded so rapidly that retailers have sold through their entire stock, with resold units appearing on secondary marketplaces marked up to two or three times the original €750 retail price. Fans of the device have even launched an independent tracking site called MideaFinder to help shoppers alert each other when new stock becomes available. The device has developed a cult-like following among heat-weary Europeans: Vienna resident Denis Yurchak, who purchased a PortaSplit to get through this summer’s heat, says he has received dozens of messages from curious shoppers after he shared his positive review on social media platform X. He ran the unit 24 hours a day during the peak of the heatwave, and says it has exceeded all his expectations.

    Midea is not the only Chinese manufacturer seeing explosive growth. According to reports from Chinese state media, Midea’s year-over-year sales across France, Spain, Germany, and the UK have surged more than 70%. TCL Technology reported a more than 300% jump in air conditioning sales in France alone, while Gree—one of the world’s largest AC producers—confirmed that demand this summer has been noticeably stronger than in previous years, with most new buyers purchasing an air conditioner for the first time. “The increasingly frequent and prolonged summer heatwaves have clearly changed consumer attitudes,” a Gree spokesperson noted in a statement.

    The sudden mass adoption of air conditioning across Europe has sparked debate about its long-term costs. A 2024 industry report estimates that air conditioning accounts for 7% of global electricity consumption and contributes 2.7% of global carbon dioxide emissions from fossil fuels and industrial activity. Environmental advocates have warned that widespread AC use could increase strain on European energy grids and raise urban temperatures in dense neighborhoods as units expel excess heat outdoors. Even so, extreme heat has forced policy shifts: after hundreds of French schools were forced to close during a late-June heatwave, the French government committed €80 million to install cooling systems, including air conditioning, in schools and public community centers.

    The World Health Organization’s European regional office has advocated for a balanced approach to air conditioning use, noting that while widespread AC adoption is not a sustainable long-term solution to rising extreme heat, it remains a critical tool to protect vulnerable populations from heat-related illness and death.

    For Chinese manufacturing, the AC boom marks a notable shift in global reputation. For decades, “Made in China” was largely associated with low-cost, lower-quality mass-produced goods, but European consumers are increasingly reevaluating that perception. Many PortaSplit owners told the BBC they were surprised to learn the device was manufactured by a Chinese brand, praising its modern design and build quality that matches or exceeds that of European competitors. Launched in Germany in 2024, the PortaSplit was developed at Midea’s Stuttgart research center, combining German engineering expertise with Italian design to appeal to European consumers.

    Scholtysek, the German engineer who purchased one of the first PortaSplit units, says the popularity of Midea’s AC is part of a broader shift in how European consumers view Chinese technology brands, from drone maker DJI to electric vehicle manufacturers. So impressed was he with his unit that he even purchased shares of Midea stock to signal his confidence in the company. Midea’s European leadership says they see significant long-term growth potential on the continent, and plan to continue investing in product development tailored to European consumer needs and regulatory requirements.

    Adrien Olar, a 26-year-old resident of France who bought his first air conditioner—a Midea PortaSplit—earlier this summer, calls the device a revolution. Before his unit arrived, he relied on splashing water on his face to stay cool in his overheated apartment. Now, he says, walking into his cooled room after being outside is like stepping into a fridge—a dramatic difference that has made this summer’s extreme heat bearable.

  • China warns of reciprocal countermeasures after US shortens foreign journalist visas

    China warns of reciprocal countermeasures after US shortens foreign journalist visas

    In a move that has reignited debates over U.S. press freedom and escalated bilateral tensions with Beijing, the Trump administration announced Thursday sweeping changes to visa rules for foreign journalists working in the United States, slashing maximum stays from multi-year terms to just 240 days for most correspondents and imposing an even harsher 90-day limit exclusively for Chinese journalists.

    The new regulation, unveiled by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), scraps the longstanding “duration of status” framework, which allowed eligible foreign journalists to remain in the U.S. for as long as they maintained their professional credentials. It will replace this flexible system with fixed-term stays, though officials note that visa extensions remain available for eligible applicants. The 90-day cap for Chinese journalists excludes correspondents based in Hong Kong and Macau, the U.S. confirmed.

    DHS officials defend the change as a critical update to national security screening protocols. When the proposal was first introduced in August 2025, the agency argued that the growing population of foreign journalists in the U.S. had created new challenges for monitoring nonimmigrant visitors, and fixed-term stays would enable more thorough, recurring vetting to ensure all working journalists abide by the terms of their visas. The policy also extends the fixed-term replacement of “duration of status” to international students and temporary foreign visitors, aligning all these nonimmigrant categories under the new screening structure.

    But press freedom advocacy groups have roundly condemned the new rules, warning they will severely undermine the ability of international correspondents to cover U.S. news and erode America’s global reputation as a defender of free speech. Reporters Without Borders called the shift from up to five-year stays to an 8-month maximum a cruel restriction that effectively cripples international news outlets’ ability to maintain permanent operations in the U.S. The organization added that the constant cycle of renewal applications will create a chilling effect, pushing journalists to self-censor to avoid angering the administration and having their extensions rejected.

    The Committee to Protect Journalists echoed this criticism, framing the policy as a retreat from democratic values that betrays the U.S.’s self-proclaimed role as a global vanguard of free expression.

    This is not the first time the Trump administration has pushed for this change. The first Trump term first proposed visa limits for foreign journalists in 2020, but the plan was scrapped in 2021 when Joe Biden took office. While the Biden administration did tighten visa rules for Chinese journalists to 90 days amid rising bilateral tensions in 2020, responding to restrictions placed on U.S. reporters in China after three Wall Street Journal reporters were expelled, it later relaxed the policy to extend maximum stays for Chinese correspondents to one year.

    The decision to impose a country-specific 90-day cap comes as the Trump administration has ramped up anti-media rhetoric and targeted domestic news outlets with a wave of threats and legal action, even as it has pushed for broader restrictions on immigration across all categories. While foreign journalists are classified as nonimmigrants rather than immigrants, the rule aligns with the administration’s broader push for tighter border and entry controls.

    Chinese officials have already pushed back hard against the new policy, framing it as a discriminatory measure that unfairly targets Chinese media operations. Chinese Foreign Ministry spokesperson Lin Jian told reporters in Beijing that the rule will disrupt the normal work of Chinese media outlets in the U.S. and urged Washington to immediately reverse the discriminatory policy and protect the legal rights of Chinese journalists working in the country. Lin added that China retains the full right to implement reciprocal countermeasures in response to the U.S. move.

    The new rule will go into effect 60 days after its formal publication in the Federal Register. While Congress holds the authority to reject the regulation, such a move is widely considered extremely rare in practice. Analysts warn the new restrictions will add new strain to already fraught U.S.-China relations, even though leaders of both countries have recently signaled they intend to work toward stabilizing bilateral ties.