Latest news with #pre-WorldWarI
Local Germany
13-05-2025
- Politics
- Local Germany
Police raid 'Kingdom of Germany' extremist group
The Federal Prosecutor's Office also announced the arrest of four people during the raids, including three founding members of the group. Described as "dangerous extremists" by the ministry, the Kingdom of Germany is part of the German conspiracy movement known as the "Citizens of the Reich", which rejects the legitimacy of the modern German republic. Its members believe in the continued existence of the pre-World War I German Reich. The ministry declared the dissolution of the group, which was accused of "attacking the liberal democratic order". Raids were launched in seven regions targeting the group, which has approximately 6,000 supporters. Authorities said its adherents "deny the existence of the Federal Republic of Germany and reject its legal system". Advertisement The ministry said the group was banned because "its objectives and activities are contrary to criminal law and run counter to the constitutional order". They said that over the past 10 years, the group had established "pseudo-state structures and institutions", including its own currency, identity papers and insurance system.
Business Recorder
23-04-2025
- Business
- Business Recorder
Pakistan and the new economic chess board
Winston Churchill once remarked, 'The further back you look, the further forward you are likely to see.' The recent escalation of the trade war amid a disintegrating economic world order is remarkably reminiscent of the pre-World War I era. By the end of the nineteenth century, the global economy was already fracturing. A wave of retaliatory tariffs—introduced in Germany, France, Italy, and the United States—shattered the liberal trade consensus of the 1800s. As economies became isolated, crises like the Panic of 1873 eventually split the West into economic blocs, which eventually led to the First World War. A century later, as the world's greatest economies collide, we see a new economic order emerging with competing blocs. As Mark Twain remarked, we may be watching history rhyme once more. US President Donald Trump's 'Liberation Day' tariffs have undermined the multilateral trade order his predecessors had strived to sustain. A blanket 10 percent duty was followed by a 145 percent retaliatory strike against Chinese imports. China fired back with 125 percent tariffs and yuan devaluation. Amid the disruption of global supply chains, Trump gave in to pressure from the US tech lobby, granting tariff exemptions to a few key sectors including smartphones, laptops, and semiconductors. Meanwhile, countries such as Pakistan only have a 90-day window until the 10% tariff transitions into a 29% one. According to the World Trade Organization, global trade will decline this year by 0.2 percent—possibly up to 1.5 percent if tariff uncertainty spreads beyond the US. These drops were only seen in times of severe crises like 2020 and 2009. The WTO's mechanisms are paralyzed. Global trade is no longer rules-based; it's bloc-based. In an ever-divided world on economic lines, three competing ideologies are emerging. The US is pioneering national capitalism: industrial onshoring, bilateral pressure, and tariff shields. Europe is leaning into technocratic capitalism—rules-based subsidy regimes tied to carbon neutrality, AI regulation, and digital services. China, in contrast, has embraced command capitalism: centralized bailouts, equity stabilization through its 'national team,' and subsidized oversupply to counter shocks. Asia is charting a middle path of pragmatic pluralism; one that hedges diplomacy with realignment. In this game of chess, countries are playing multiple blocs. Several countries like India, Singapore, and South Korea are lowering rates and using targeted diplomacy, hedged reforms, and industrial subsidies to survive the economic turbulence. They are engaging all major powers, experimenting with bilateralism, and absorbing supply chains without ideological rigidity. Pakistan, however, has joined late—and it must catch up quickly. On April 9, US tariffs on Pakistan surged to 29 percent due to a $2.99 billion trade surplus. That has since reverted to a baseline 10 percent under a 90-day executive pause. But this is more of a countdown than relief; one where Pakistan needs to act strategically. Once the pause expires, tariffs may return—unless Pakistan presents a compelling case for exemption. The stakes are high. According to a policy note by the Pakistan Institute of Development Economics (PIDE), the materialization of tariffs could cost up to $1.4 billion annually and over 500,000 jobs, particularly in the textile sector, which makes up 76 percent of Pakistan's exports to the US. This will create a domino effect, affecting other sectors; notably those that produce surgical tools, leather, rice, and sporting goods. PIDE's report frames the tariffs not just as a challenge—but a 'wake-up call' for deep export diversification. And then, there's a unique paradox at play. Pakistan was the world's largest importer of US cotton in 2024. It imports raw cotton, processes and exports finished apparel—much of it back to the United States. It's a rare bilateral value chain. The Export Facilitation Scheme (EFS), which taxes 18 percent on local raw materials, has contributed much to the large imports, as exporters prefer US cotton over domestically produced cotton, which is not exempt from sales tax. This particular fact would play directly into Trump's tariff logic: the higher the surplus, the higher the rate. The Prime Minister, sensing the risk — or perhaps due to pressure from the IMF — blocked the EFS exemption a few days back. The move avoids undermining Pakistan's argument that its textile exports support American agriculture. But it comes at a cost. Over 120 spinning mills have shut down, local ginners are in crisis, and the Pakistan Cotton Ginners Association (PCGA) has warned of record-low production. Without a stable tax framework or support price, Pakistan's cotton economy is collapsing from both ends. There is no easy fix, but there is a viable strategy. Pakistan must present itself as an integrated, value-adding partner — not a surplus threat. Smartphones and laptops were recently exempted from tariffs under a Presidential Memorandum — proof that targeted diplomacy can yield results. Cotton, unlike smartphones, supports jobs on both sides of the Pacific. That argument must be front and center in Washington. Despite these complications, the textile sector cannot be abandoned. Relief must come in other forms: energy cost subsidies, faster GST refunds, digitized customs, and textile diversification, coupled with special interest rate zones for export based sectors. The Karachi Textile Expo 2025 saw record participation despite looming tariffs — showing that demand exists if Pakistan remains competitive. And there are other sectors waiting for investment: workwear, technical textiles, intelligent fabrics, and green apparel. Encouragingly, official data shows that Pakistan's textile and clothing exports grew 9.38 percent year-on-year during the first nine months of FY25, rising from $12.44 billion to $13.62 billion. Readymade garments and knitwear led the surge, up 19.05 percent and 16.82 percent in value, respectively. Exports of bedwear, towels, and canvas products also rose steadily. However, the broader picture remains fragile. Yarn exports dipped 32 percent, raw cotton exports plunged 98.45 percent, and cotton cloth volumes contracted. Despite having an installed capacity of $25 billion, textile exports have remained largely static over the past two years due to structural bottlenecks, including high input costs and delayed refunds. Exporters continue to urge the government for faster GST refunds and rebate clearances, without which this momentum may stall—especially if tariffs return. Diplomatically, Pakistan is now entering high-stakes negotiations. A Ministry of Commerce delegation is set to meet US trade officials. That meeting must go beyond cotton. Mineral diplomacy is rising fast. The US State Department recently called Pakistan's critical mineral reserves 'strategically important' for supply chain security. This is a lever; pairing textile diplomacy with minerals and digital services — where Pakistan earned $3.2 billion in IT exports last year — can frame the relationship in broader terms. Simultaneously, reforms must accelerate. Pakistan's customs infrastructure remains outdated, still reliant on physical invoices and discretionary penalties. Rules 389 and 391, flagged by US exporters recently, have caused delays and valuation disputes. Even Pakistan's own Senate has raised alarm bells twice. In recent hearings, the Senate Standing Committee on Commerce criticized Pakistan Customs for mishandling consignments from Iran, citing delays and arbitrary assessments. These same issues — now magnified by US complaints — erode exporter confidence and delay trade flows. Reforming customs is now imminent going beyond just efficiency; it's now about strategic survival. India, in contrast, has rolled out 'Faceless Assessment' and reduced customs time to 1–2 days at key ports. Pakistan's exorbitant electricity rates also need to be addressed. High electricity costs threaten to erase any competitive edge. Industrial electricity tariffs in Pakistan range from Rs 31.85 to Rs 44.46 per kilowatt-hour — nearly double those in China and more than triple the Rs 8 to Rs 12 range in India and Bangladesh. Without energy reform, Pakistan's manufacturing base risks further erosion. If US tariffs are reinstated, and input costs remain unchecked, Pakistani exports will become prohibitively uncompetitive — losing its competitive edge to other textile exporting countries such as Vietnam and Bangladesh. This is a classic case of sequential game theory: Pakistan must anticipate the likely US response not just to its current actions, but to how its trade surplus and input mix evolve. If it shifts away from US cotton under domestic pressure, the surplus widens. If its exports become less competitive due to high electricity and outdated customs, US buyers will shift elsewhere—and tariffs become more politically palatable in Washington. The optimal strategy, therefore, is preemptive: maintain the value-added bilateral loop through cotton imports, reduce surplus pressure, and offer reciprocal tariff relief where feasible, such as on US machinery or petroleum. Despite the uncertainty, there are reasons to be optimistic. Fitch Ratings upgraded Pakistan to B- this month, citing a stable macro outlook and sustained IMF compliance. While challenges remain — large-scale manufacturing (LSM) shrank by 1.9% in February and IMF conditions remain strict — the upgrade signals a tentative return of creditworthiness. It also opens doors to market-based instruments like Panda Bonds and Green Sukuk. These reduce reliance on dollar-denominated loans and enable access to yuan-backed repayment ecosystems, particularly if tied to infrastructure linked to Chinese supply chains. Islamabad has also begun to explore its options. According to Bloomberg, Pakistan is considering increasing imports of US cotton and soybeans to narrow its $2.99 billion trade surplus—an effort aimed at undercutting Trump's tariff logic. The deliberations reportedly include purchases of Texas crude oil, though concerns about high freight costs and internal consensus have delayed a final decision. Still, the strategic intent is clear: shift the balance sheet through high-volume, high-visibility imports to demonstrate reciprocity and preempt punitive escalation. Pakistan recently recorded a current account surplus of $619 million in March 2025—a 229 percent increase from March last year—driven by record remittances of $4.1 billion. For July–March FY25, the cumulative surplus stands at $1.85 billion, a sharp turnaround from the $1.65 billion deficit during the same period in FY24. While this strengthens the rupee and reduces short-term external pressures, it complicates Pakistan's tariff case. Since Pakistan's current account surplus is driven by remittances, not exports, it must be clearly communicated that this surplus is not trade-related. Otherwise, it risks being misread in Washington as evidence of an unfair trade imbalance — strengthening Trump's argument for higher tariffs. To counter this, Pakistan should explicitly highlight its large-scale imports of US cotton and energy, which create jobs in the US and reflect balanced bilateral trade. Hence, the logic circles back: Pakistan must lock in US-linked supply chains, reduce bilateral asymmetries, and highlight its integration into American agricultural and energy ecosystems. If it fails to do so, the surplus will appear as a one-sided gain—and in a world where tariff policy is driven less by economics and more by optics that is a costly misreading of the board. Regionally, the opportunity is clear. Vietnam, a cotton exporter and key textile rival, now faces US tariffs as high as 46 percent after the 90-day pause ends. If Pakistan improves logistics, reduces energy tariffs, and fast-tracks reforms, it can absorb the spillover demand. India has already moved: Apple is routing up to 50% of iPhones from Tamil Nadu. Pakistan must seize this window before the global trade chessboard resets. Because the world is now divided — not by ideology, but by tariffs and trust. And in this realignment, Pakistan can be the best case for pragmatic pluralism: trading with China, negotiating with the US, and deepening reform at home. Multilateralism may return one day. But until then, Pakistan must think and act like a hedger — one that moves fast, thinks long, and doesn't wait for the rules to be rewritten. Copyright Business Recorder, 2025
Boston Globe
08-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Boston Globe
Streamlining ‘Hamlet' - Gamm Theatre's swift and subtle take
Advertisement High profile interpretations of the Prince of Demark have also catered to extremes, ranging from David Tennant's sardonic volatility to Mark Rylance's pajama-clad insanity to Ethan Hawke's hipster irony. And the play has quite often lent itself to high concept productions, including Aviva Studios' 2024 Get Globe Rhode Island Food Club A weekly newsletter about food and dining in Rhode Island, by Globe Rhode Island reporter Alexa Gagosz. Enter Email Sign Up At the Advertisement Michael McGarty's bare-boned scenic design consists of a multi-tier labyrinth of weathered wood platforms and stairs in front of a translucent black scrim. Nothing hints at a particular time in history for this play to take place, reinforced by Mikayla Reid's ambiguous costume design that vaguely suggests somewhere between the post-Civil war through pre-World War I America, Mostly, the costuming serves to define each character's station and status, and separate the younger from the older generation. All this creates a desired timeless quality for this play, which allows us to focus on the words and the intriguingly drawn and marvelously performed characters delivering them. Jeff Adelberg's lighting design does the heavy lifting in this production, for intense, oversaturated spotlighting constantly isolates each performer from the surrounding darkness that fills the stage and adds drama and foreboding shadows to everything. It also accentuates small but formidable acting moments – such as the tear falling from Rosencrantz's eye (an engaging Abigail Milnor-Sweetser) when she first betrays her old friend Hamlet, and the flash of emotional pain that briefly crosses Ophelia's face (a brilliant Nora Eschenheimer) when Hamlet rejects her love – that might otherwise go undetected beyond the second row. Each scene abruptly ends with a complete blackout accompanied by a deafening percussive beat, which quickly segues to the next scene. Quick is the catchword for this staging, for speed is of the essence for director Tony Estrella as he works hard to not only keep his production at three hours but in line with the speedreading given by Jeff Church in the title role. Church's Hamlet is marred by moments of melancholy and blinded by bitterness, but mostly he is a man of great passion that manifests in his quick, well-articulated speech and hurried physicality. So passionate is this Hamlet that he has no time for stairs – choosing instead to climb onto platforms and leap onto tables – and literally bowls over his mother Gertrude (Jeanine Kane), his best friend Horatio (David Ensor), and his childhood friends Ophelia (Eschenheimer) and Laertes (Marc Pierre) when accosting them with fervent speeches. He does the same when greeting Polonius (Joe Penczak) with a knife to the chest and comes close when accosting his Uncle Claudius (Kelby Akin). Advertisement But given his immense talent and training, Church pauses at all the right places to add weight to the words and make the heightened language of Shakespeare's text sound as if it was newly discovered. He also excels at fencing. Like the bread in an Italian restaurant and the desserts in a French café, the true litmus test for a production of 'Hamlet' is the sword fight. The fatal foil exchange between Church's Hamlet and Pierre's Laertes, as choreographed by Normand Beauregard, is the best I've ever seen on any stage. Not a thrust is telegraphed or anticipated, not a parry or riposte is insincere, and the outcome – for those unfamiliar with the play's complete title, 'The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark' – is always in question until it's not. For a play known for its excesses, this Gamm Theatre production astounds with its subtlety. HAMLET Play by William Shakespeare. Directed by Tony Estrella. At the Gamm Theatre, 1245 Jefferson Boulevard, Warwick. Runs through April 27. Tickets $65-$75, plus fees. 401-723-4266, Advertisement Bob Abelman is an award-winning theater critic who formerly wrote for the Austin Chronicle. Connect with him .
Yahoo
31-03-2025
- General
- Yahoo
America's farmland feminism was lost to history. Reviving it would heal country.
The following column is partially adapted, with permission from the publisher, from Brian Reisinger's book 'Land Rich, Cash Poor: My Family's Hope and the Untold History of the Disappearing American Farmer.' My sister didn't have time for any BS. She was a skilled welder by then, one of the many trades a farmer picks up, and had patched and pounded machinery for years to get it going again when breakdowns halted work on the farm. So, when she needed a part that required going to town, she went in herself. Her footsteps were the same as any farmer, that gruff whisper of dirt grating beneath work shoes on a smooth floor. But when she asked a guy for help, she got a response my dad or I never would have. 'Shouldn't a man be getting it?' It was one of countless moments she'd faced being a woman in the 'man's world' of farming. But it was far more than that. The moment demonstrated a deep truth we've lost, especially in the Trump era with much of urban and liberal America believing rural America is backward: For much of our history, rural women led the charge on social progress through many of our country's biggest crises. And now rural women can help save us again, if we let them. We live in a world more deeply divided along rural and urban lines than ever, and our forgotten farmland feminism — lost in part with the decimation of 4.8 million farms as our economy shifted from rural to urban — tears down all our preconceived notions. Resurrecting it can help solve problems like threats to our food supply, and more. For those who believe women's rights can't possibly have much to do with rural America, consider that American farming once boasted nearly 6.8 million farms, nearly all of them small operations often ran by women as much as their husbands in many ways, along with any children who were old enough to gather eggs in the farmyard or walk a field row under the hot sun. My great-grandparents escaped pre-World War I Europe to make a better life in the rolling farmland of southern Wisconsin, and my great-grandma and her daughters did the work of any man. My grandpa's sister, Great-Aunt Helene, remembers carrying 80-pound buckets of milk from the barn to the milkhouse as a young woman, milking cows morning and night, and shocking grain alongside the threshing crews of men who banded together in those days to help each other's farms get through harvest. All the while, she and her mother and sisters did housework on top of fieldwork, and fed the men who were free to drink the day away when the work was done. It began a kind of social progress that was both powerful, and paradoxical. In the country, women did the work of any man in a way the rest of the economy didn't allow in those days, equipping them with a kind of independence that was ahead of its time. And yet, they were also left caring for their families and depending upon the men who often controlled the money. The legacy of independent women doing the work of men – a reality for generations that is still lived out today – has been lost to history. It leaves a much more complicated picture of the values and attitudes of rural America than you'll usually hear about. From the 1920s to the 2020s, rural America lost millions of farms, and people. The numbers tell a story of millions of rural women doing the work of men, only to be forgotten as our economy shifted from rural to urban. Some numbers that illustrate the change: 6.8 million: Farms at America's height in 1935, mostly small family operations where women did the work of men 11.8 million: Men who went off to WWII, leaving behind urban jobs rural women were ready to fill 75 million: Population in rural America in the 1940s, or 57 percent, before dropping to just 14 percent by 2020. 25-29: The key age group rural Wisconsin lost for seven decades, including young women, as America's economy shifted rural to urban By the time of World War II, as more than 12.2 million Americans went to war, there was a legion of rural women moving to the city and handling the industrial jobs of the men who had gone off to war. While Rosie the Riveter is an iconic symbol of early female empowerment in these days, often forgotten is how many of those women came from rural America, ready to do the work because of generations of doing the work of men. Though she was too young to leave the farm during the war, our great-aunt Helene soon after exemplified this: she left shocking grain for sorting meat at the Oscar Mayer plant. This continued on through the generations, from our great-grandma, to our grandma who ran the farm when our grandpa fell 30 feet off a corncrib and broke his back, to our mom who worked alongside our dad through the Farm Crisis of the 1980s that decimated rural America. But somewhere in that time, rural America also fell behind urban America on this front. As America's population went from majority rural in the 1940s to majority urban — including primarily losing its young people who bring economic vitality and passion for change — the country's focus shifted away from its rural roots. Female trailblazers showed what women could do in medicine, corporate America, academia, and more, while rural families were left trying to survive vanishing farms, manufacturing jobs, and more. We lost the fact that there were generations of rural women whose strength and independence might have been celebrated by the feminist movement, if only they had paused in their work long enough to tell their stories. My sister stood in the middle of that contradiction as she stared down the man who thought she couldn't find the right machine part because she was a woman. By then she was the fourth generation of independent women doing the work of any man. But she was living in what had remained a man's world as the advancing urban economy left behind the gradually declining rural economy. It was far from the only time she confronted this challenge, despite the independent women she'd grown up working alongside. Rarely, did she encounter openly hostile sexism; more often it was small indignities that piled up over time — each one trying to tell her she wasn't supposed to be there. There was the salesman who spoke only to our dad. There were the various farmers and farmhands who wouldn't take her phone calls seriously, or joked about her being a girl when the heavy work was underway. She had faced a variation of this for most of her life — the expectation that it wouldn't be her who would farm. Part of that was being the second eldest behind me, a son who confronted the opposite, in the form of an expectation I didn't feel I could meet. (I would go on to pursue a writing career off the farm, and wrestle with the guilt of being the first of four generations of eldest Reisinger sons not to farm.) But part of it was also gender. Nobody in our family ever told Malia that a woman couldn't farm. Our dad was overjoyed when she stepped up. But, as the second eldest she didn't face the same expectation I did early on, and there was no shortage of loved ones and strangers alike surprised that a girl might take over. As my sister got into her 20s and began to take the reins, she saw not everyone was as happy as our dad to see her farming. And it was one of many challenges as she raised her kids, and worked other jobs off the farm—in part because it was unclear whether farming would provide the kind of living it had our parents. Of course, the logic of those doubting her as a woman made little sense, in a world where generations of farm women had done the work of men. But the women of generations past had done it as wives and sisters, less often as lone successors, and had rarely if ever spoken up. Eventually, Malia decided she didn't care what people thought. 'If people can't respect me,' she said, 'I'm not doing business with them.' Her greatest test was yet to come. On a brutal winter day in December of 2020, the cold air became too heavy for our 69-year-old dad to bear. He had to sit on a haybale in the middle of his morning chores, trying to catch his breath. Within hours he was in the back of an ambulance roaring down the highway, a severe case of COVID closing in on his aging lungs. By then we had all experienced the fear, frustration, and — sometimes — family disagreements that came with trying to balance health precautions with being able to go on with life and keep our livelihood. But this kind of COVID blew past debate and forced us to face the possibility he may not return. Now, deciding she didn't give a damn what anyone else thought would do far more than let my sister blaze a career caring for the animals she loved, and working the land we grew up on. It would give her the courage to fight as COVID's disruption's hit farms with falling prices and more. Our dad stayed with me as he fought for his life, and Malia fought for the farm. In today's economy, with farms dealing with the many economic, political, and technological forces that have made it so hard to keep going, a family tragedy — like the owner being laid up for weeks — can cripple a farm's operations and put it under. My sister called on close friends for help, among them women who had also grown up on farms and knew how to work alongside her. It was a circle of support that recalled the olden days, of women working the farm as well as any man, and families banding together to weather economic crisis. But the thing about a farm on the edge is that there's always another challenge piling on. Cows began going down sick, and one winter morning twin calves were born outside in the cold. Malia ran to our skid-steer to help gently move the calves into the warm barn, but a bolt had fallen out of the machine's safety release and it wouldn't move. The cows and the calves and the work were all waiting, and our dad was still sick. She cried out in rage and fear. Then she took a breath, and did what three generations of women before her had done: She got back to work. Finally, the day before Christmas Eve, our dad was well enough to come home. I still think about my sister's resilience, as we confront the national crisis of the disappearing American farmer. The livelihoods of family farms and much of rural America are slipping, our food supply is becoming more vulnerable — and more expensive and less healthy— and we're failing to solve the problem in part because rural and urban America can't agree on the solutions. The lessons of farmland feminism can challenge us to change. With America so divided along rural and urban lines, Democrats are in danger of writing off rural America, and Republicans are in danger of taking rural voters for granted. But if we can force ourselves to stop getting rural voters — and each other — so wrong, we can craft new policies to help solve these problems. There's reason to believe we can do this. We still have nearly 2 million farms in this country, 96 percent of which are family operations. That's nearly 2 million families, searching for a way to survive, led by people like my sister who our policymakers could do so much more to understand. Opinion: On Wisconsin's glacial lakes, wake-enhanced boating damaging and dangerous One day as my dad was still recovering his strength from his severe bout with COVID, a tractor pulling a manure spreader jackknifed on the way into the valley and careened into the ditch — off the same steep road that had imperiled vehicles ever since our family had first settled there more than a century ago. Our dad, usually cheerful in the face of challenge, but still weak, worried aloud now about how they'd ever get it out. 'What are we gonna do?' he said. 'What are we gonna do?' 'You're gonna go home,' Malia said. 'I'm gonna make some calls.' My dad stepped back, his lungs straining in the cold, while Malia called in a truck big enough to pull the manure spreader backward up the hill. Our dad said Malia was the only person he'd trust to steer the tractor, so Malia climbed in and helped jimmy it out of the ditch, then drove it down the ice-laden hill it had failed to make the first time. And the work went on. Brian Reisinger is a writer who grew up on a family farm in Sauk County. He contributes columns and videos for the Ideas Lab at the Journal Sentinel. He works in public affairs consulting for Wisconsin-based Platform Communications. He splits his time between Sacramento, Calif. — America's 'farm-to-fork capital,' near his wife's family — and the family farm in Wisconsin. You can find him on X at @BrianJReisinger This article originally appeared on Milwaukee Journal Sentinel: Women have always been force on American family farms | Opinion
