Wednesday, April 07, 2021

Left-wing party that opposes mining project wins Greenland election


COPENHAGEN (Reuters) - Greenland's main opposition party, which opposes a rare earth mining project, has become the biggest in parliament after securing more than a third of votes in a snap election.

© Reuters/RITZAU SCANPIX Greenland's election

The election result, closely watched by international mining companies wanting to exploit Greenland's vast untapped minerals resources, casts doubt on a mining complex at Kvanefjeld in the south of the Arctic island which holds one of the world's biggest deposits of rare earth metals.


With nearly all votes counted, the left-wing Inuit Ataqatigiit (IA) party took 37% of votes, unseating the ruling social democratic Siumut party which secured 29% of votes, according to official results.

IA leader Mute Egede, 34, will be first to try to form a new government.

Though not opposed outright to mining, his party has a strong environmental focus. It has campaigned to halt the Kvanefjeld project, which aside from rare earths including neodymium - which is used in wind turbines, electric vehicles and combat aircraft - also contains uranium.

While most Greenlanders see mining as an important path towards independence, the Kvanefjeld mine has been a contention point for years, sowing deep divisions in the government and population over environmental concerns.

The island of 56,000 people, which former U.S. President Donald Trump offered to buy in 2019, is part of the Kingdom of Denmark but has broad autonomy.


Climate change: Arctic mining scheme in doubt as opponents win snap election in Greenland

The largely ice-covered island has the world's largest undeveloped deposits of rare-earth metals, according to geologists.


SKY NEWS
Wednesday 7 April 2021

The Inuit Ataqatigiit party has a been a staunch opponent of the Kvanefjeld mining project


A major mining project in Greenland aimed at exploiting the Arctic island's huge untapped mineral resources has been thrown into doubt following a snap election.

The main opposition Inuit Ataqatigiit (Community of the People) party, which is against the scheme at Kvanefjeld that holds one of the world's largest deposits of rare-earth metals, has become the biggest in parliament following the poll.

It took 37% of the votes, unseating the ruling social democratic Siumut party which secured 29%, official data showed.


The main opposition party won more than a third of the votes

Image:IA leader Mute Egede will be first to try to form a new government.

Inuit Ataqatigiit (IA) leader Mute Egede, 34, will be first to try to form a new government.

The election was triggered in the semi-autonomous Danish territory after the ruling coalition in the national assembly, the 31-seat Inatsisartut, collapsed due to a political split over the proposed mining project in southern Greenland.

Supporters saw the Kvanefjeld mine scheme as a potential source of jobs and economic prosperity.

The outgoing prime minister Kim Kielsen had pushed to give the green light to mine owner Greenland Minerals, an Australia-based company with Chinese ownership, to start operation.
But the left-leaning IA party had been a staunch opponent of the project, claiming a majority of Greenland's 56,000 inhabitants, most of them indigenous Inuit people, were against the scheme, mainly for environmental reasons.

One of the initial arguments for granting a mining license to Greenland Minerals was that the proceeds from the project would strengthen the island's economy and help the campaign to breakaway completely from Denmark through independence.

International interest in Greenland has continued for strategic reasons

But Greenland resident Lise Svenningsen told Danish TV: "In the past, I was very preoccupied with the fact that, of course, we must be independent. And so will we one day.

"But I think that we should focus much more on the conditions of the population, and that politicians should try to act on things they promise year after year."

The largely ice-covered island has the world's largest undeveloped deposits of rare-earth metals, according to the US Geological Survey.

Estimates show the Kvanefjeld mine could hold the largest deposit of rare-earth metals outside China, which currently accounts for more than 90% of global production.

Rare-earth metals are used in a wide number of industries and products, including smartphones, wind turbines, microchips, batteries for electric cars and weapons systems.

In 2019, then US President resident Donald Trump floated an idea to buy Greenland from Denmark for strategic reasons.

The move sparked uproar in Copenhagen and was dismissed as absurd.




Climate change: An A-Z glossary




However, international interest in Greenland has continued as major powers - the US, China and Russia - race to establish their presence in the Arctic.

Washington opened a US consulate in Nuuk, Greenland's capital, last year as part of a new Arctic strategy adopted by the Trump administration.

Under a 1951 deal, NATO member Denmark has allowed the US to build bases and radar stations on Greenland.

Greenland, the world's largest island that is not a continent, has its own government and parliament, and relies on Denmark for defence, foreign and monetary policies.

Greenland Election Hands Lead to
 Anti-Mining Group in Parliament

By Morten Buttler
April 7, 2021, 12:49 AM MDT


Members of the Inuit Ataqatigiit party celebrate following exit poll results in Nuuk, Greenland on April 6.

Photographer: Emil Helms/AFP/Getty Images

The people of Greenland have voted to oust a government that was planning to welcome foreign companies eager to tap the island’s rare-earth metals.

According to an early vote count of Tuesday’s parliamentary election, Greenland’s opposition Inuit Ataqatigiit (IA) was set to become the biggest in the 31-seat chamber, garnering 37%, though the final result has yet to be announced. Siumut, the party of outgoing Prime Minister Kim Kielsen, was set to get about 29%, according to local broadcaster KNR.

Despite its tiny population of just 56,000, Greenland has grabbed international headlines in recent years, not least because of former U.S. President Donald Trump’s sudden interest in buying it back in 2019. Though he was rebuffed, the island’s geographic location and significant untapped natural resources have made it a continual target of international interest.

Javier Arnaut, an assistant professor of economics at the University of Greenland, said politics in the island nation tend to hover around the theme of attracting investments that might help it gain economic independence from Denmark. IA campaigned on a pledge to help break away from Denmark, which still oversees Greenland’s foreign, defense and monetary policies. But its program threatens to cut off investment.

IA, which now needs to build a coalition, has signaled it will shelve plans to allow a mining project at Kuannersuit near the southern tip of Greenland. It’s a decision that will hit Greenland Minerals, an Australian company in which Shenghe Resources Holding Ltd of China holds roughly a 10th.

The area is thought to have one of the world’s largest deposits of rare-earth minerals, which is increasingly regarded as a matter of national security because of its role in the production of high-tech products such as electric vehicles and semiconductors. Gaining access to such resources is one of the many arm wrestles between the U.S. and China.

About two-thirds of Greenlanders are against letting the mining project go ahead, mainly amid concerns about the environment, according to a poll published in the Sermitsiaq AG newspaper on Monday.

“The project is controversial,” Arnaut said. But ultimately, “Greenland is in a dilemma, choosing between protecting the environment and economic diversification and this time it looks like the environment is going to win.”
.

“But mining for rare-earth minerals is going to be an ongoing topic,” he said


MORNING BRIEF

Greenland’s Rare-Earth Election

The outcome of today’s vote could decide whether the island bucks environmental concerns and embraces its potential as a rare-earth powerhouse.

Election campaign posters are pictured in Nuuk.
Election campaign posters with candidates for the legislative elections of the Siumut party, including Greenland’s Prime Minister Kim Kielsen, are pictured in Nuuk, on April 5. CHRISTIAN KLINDT SOELBECK/AFP

Here is today’s Foreign Policy brief: Greenland votes in key legislative elections


Greenland’s Big Little Election

Voters in Greenland head to the polls today in legislative elections with uncharacteristically critical geopolitical implications.

At issue is a decision on whether to follow through on a rare-earth and uranium mine that would greatly boost the island’s economy. As Sam Dunning wrote in Foreign Policy in March, the mine already caused the government to fall in February, when a junior coalition partner quit after the majority Siumut party proposed halting public consultations for the mine’s extraction permit.

With the world’s largest undeveloped deposits of rare-earth minerals, Greenland has the potential to become a world leader in producing the materials essential to high-demand products like smartphones and military hardware like the F-35 fighter jet.

Geopolitical hotspot. Greenland is of interest to the United States and its allies as they have watched China race ahead as a rare-earth leader. Beijing now accounts for two-thirds of rare-earth mining and 90 percent of global production. Such is China’s dominance, the Quad nations of Australia, India, Japan, and the United States have begun talks on a rare-earth supply chain partnership.

The companies behind the proposed mine reflect international interest in the metals. An Australian company, Greenland Minerals, has been preparing the site for the past 15 years, while a Chinese firm, Shenghe Resources—itself part-owned by the Chinese government—is Greenland Minerals’ main investor.

Mining the Future, a special report by FP Analytics, is the first systematic and comprehensive assessment of China’s accumulation of control and influence over a range of critical metals and minerals, and the supply chains upon which the future of the high-tech industry depends. Read it now.

Mining the Future, a special report by FP Analytics, is the first systematic and comprehensive assessment of China’s accumulation of control and influence over a range of critical metals and minerals and the supply chains on which the future of the high-tech industry depends. Read it now.

The mine has nationalistic appeal for the island, where independence from Denmark has been a long-sought goal. Although Greenland is largely autonomous, Denmark still currently pays half of the island’s budget, so any opportunity to build economic independence remains an attractive proposition.

Environmental concerns over radioactivity and pollution seem to be winning out among the country’s voters; however, polls currently favor the opposition Inuit Ataqatigiit, a democratic socialist party opposed to the mine.

What pandemic? Voters will cast ballots today in an atmosphere largely free of the coronavirus fears that have plagued the rest of the world. To date, Greenland has had no COVID-19 deaths nor related hospitalizations. Its total case count is 31, which, even considering its tiny population of 56,000, ranks it among the best performers in the world in taming the virus.

Wintry woes. Even so, all is not rosy in Greenland. Incidents of violence have skyrocketed over the past few years, jumping 46 percent from 2018 to 2020. Suicide rates in Greenland are the highest in the world. And rapid migration from periphery towns to the capital, Nuuk, has also triggered an increase in homelessness, as new housing fails to keep up with demand.

All of these problems require long-term, intergenerational solutions, Steven Arnfjord, the head of the social sciences department at the University of Greenland, told Foreign Policywhich is something that a mine and its associations with independence can’t remedy. “If you’re going to be dependent on mining rare-earths, that’s a 25 to 30 year spectrum. Then it’s drained out,” Arnfjord said. “Of course, mining can be a good deal, but I’ve yet to see a multinational mining company really doing it for the benefit of the country that they’re in.”


Polls close in Greenland election closely watched by global mining industry
Reuters


COPENHAGEN (Reuters) -Voting stations closed in Greenland on Tuesday evening in a snap election that could unseat the ruling party and help decide the fate of vast deposits of rare earth metals that international companies want to exploit.

The Arctic island of 56,000 people, which former U.S. President Donald Trump offered to buy in 2019 only to be told it was not for sale, is part of the Kingdom of Denmark but has broad autonomy.

International companies are watching the election closely as they compete for the right to develop Greenland's untapped deposits of rare earth metals including neodymium, which is used in wind turbines, electric vehicles and combat aircraft.

Global warming and melting ice have made Greenland more attractive for investment as access by sea has become easier. Trump's offer for Greenland was intended to help address Chinese dominance of rare earth supplies.

But concern in Greenland is mounting about the potential environmental impact of plans to build a large mining complex at Kvanefjeld in the south of the island, a site that contains uranium as well as neodymium.


A junior party withdrew from the coalition government in February as opposition to the project grew, prompting the decision to call Tuesday's election to the 31-seat parliament.

MINING POTENTIAL

Opinion polls before the election showed the social democratic Siumut Party, which has led all governments since 1979 except for one period from 2009-2013, trailing the main opposition party, Inuit Ataqatigiit (IA).

Support from Siumut helped secure preliminary approval for the Kvanefjeld project, which is licensed to Australia's Greenland Minerals Ltd , in which China's Shenghe Resources Holding Co Ltd is the biggest shareholder.

If IA can form a coalition to govern, it could raise questions about the project. IA has a zero-tolerance policy for uranium and has criticised the project.

Polling stations closed at 8 p.m. (2200 GMT) and deputies will be elected for four years. Authorities hope to announce final results before 1 a.m. Wednesday (0300 GMT), local media reported.

No preliminary results had so far been made public.

Apart from mining, campaign issues have included housing, the fishing industry and efforts to gain more autonomy.

Greenland's mining potential is widely seen as vital to its prospects of achieving more economic independence, as its $3 billion economy and large public sector are heavily reliant on grants from Denmark.

A majority of Greenlanders view independence from Denmark as a long-term goal but say economic development is needed first.

(Reporting by Nikolaj Skydsgaard; Editing by Gareth Jones and Peter Cooney)


BACKGROUNDERS

North

Mining — and independence — at the heart of Greenland's election

Dispute over controversial rare earths mine collapsed former government

Candidates from the Greenlandic party Siumut pass out flyers in Nuuk in Greenland, Wednesday. The autonomous territory within the Kingdom of Denmark, Greenland, will hold election to its Parliament consisting of 31 members, on April 6. (Emil Helms/Ritzau Scanpix via AP

Greenlanders will head to the polls Tuesday in an election partly defined by bitter disputes over the future of resource development in the Arctic nation.

The April 6 election was called after a controversial mining project in southern Greenland sparked an internal spat within the ruling coalition.

The project, in an area known as Kannersuit near the community of Narsaq, would see an Australian-listed mining company, backed partly by Chinese investors, mine for rare earth metals and uranium in a pristine region used by fishermen, shepherds and tourist guides.

But the governing party's push for the mine has also been closely tied to the country's push for independence from Denmark, as it seeks to gradually reduce its dependence on a roughly $700 million annual transfer from the former colonial power.

"This is a project that probably really would make a difference, in terms of providing jobs and a healthy dose of income to the national purse," said Ulrik Pram Gad, a senior researcher at the Danish Institute for International Studies.

"But it's also a very controversial project, in the sense that … it's really [about], should we sacrifice this beautiful spot and the kind of life that people live there, for the sake of the greater good — in this case, inching towards national independence?"

Protests and death threats

Just five kilometres from Narsaq is a mountain home to one of the world's largest unexploited deposits of rare earth metals, an important strategic resource currently mined almost exclusively in China.

The proposed mine would see neodymium, used for wind turbines and combat aircraft, mined alongside uranium, the mining of which was banned on the island until 2013.

The project was backed by the ruling Siumut party, which has governed Greenland for all but one term since 1979. But as the government began public hearings on the project, support within the governing coalition eroded in the face of outrage from local residents.

An aerial view of the town of Narsaq in southern Greenland, located just five kilometres from the site of the Kannersuit rare earths mine. (Greenland Minerals Ltd/Handout via REUTERS)

Hearings in Narsaq were greeted by grassroots environmental protests and even death threats aimed at cabinet ministers who supported the project. Hundreds of NGOs signed an open letter asking that the area be deemed an Arctic sanctuary instead.

Many fear the mine will negatively impact not only fishing, the core of Narsaq's economy, but tourism and the region's budding agriculture industry as well.

But others see the project, and others like it, as key steps toward Greenland's financial independence.

A boost to the treasury

Currently, Denmark pays for two-thirds of the Greenland government's budget, according to Maria Ackrén, a professor of political science at Ilisimatusarfik (University of Greenland). 

But royalties from the mine could cover as much as 15 per cent of public expenditures, Reuters reports — roughly $250 million per year.

"It is clear that the economy should be diversified," she said. "Those parties that are in favour see this as … a step toward independence."

Sara Olsvig, leader of Inuit Ataqatigiit, casts her vote at a polling station in Nuuk in 2018. The party could potentially gain from opposition to the Kannersuit mine in southern Greenland, where the Siumut party often leads. (Ritzau Scanpix/Christian Klindt Soelbeck/via REUTERS)

That puts Inuit Ataqatigiit, Siumut's left-wing opposition, on tricky footing. As outspoken critics of the Kannersuit project, they stand to see their vote increase in southern Greenland, where Pram Gad says Siumut normally performs strongly.

But they are also a party that strongly supports independence. Objecting to resource projects puts them further from that goal, and makes it harder to form coalitions in government, Ackrén said.

That may explain the party's so-far muted opposition to a neighbouring rare earths project, called Tanbreez, that some believe poses fewer risks to the environment.

"I think there are lots of compromises to be made," said Ackrén.

Unclear who will lead

Siumut, the original proponents of the project, could also stand to gain from opposition to the project. That's because the party's internal fight over the mine is still unresolved.

Erik Jensen ousted Kim Kielsen as party leader last year over his government's support for the mine. But in a rejection of convention, Kielsen remained on as premier.

That means, no matter who wins, it's not clear who will lead the government.

Greenland Premier Kim Kielsen speaks to the media in Reykjavik in 2019. It's not clear whether Kielsen or his replacement as Siumut party leader, Erik Jensen, would lead the government in a victory. (Egill Bjarnason/AP)

"It's unclear how this will play out in the election," said Martin Breum, a Danish journalist covering the election.

The candidate with the most votes typically wins the right to form a government. But if Kielsen were to outperform Jensen on April 6, it's hard to say who would be in charge.

"He might say, 'I would like to run the government,' and then it would be hard for … the new chairman of the party to refuse him that privilege," Breum said.

"It is very, very hard to predict."

All politics is local

All this means significant uncertainty for the mineral resources companies hungrily eyeing the island nation. 

Reuters has quoted the acting minister of resources, Vittus Qujaukitsoq, saying that in deciding on the Kannersuit project, the "credibility of the whole country is at stake."

But voters are unlikely to be moved by the anxiety of international investors.

"Development, when seen bottom up, is primarily about services," said Pram Gad. "There are these places [in Greenland] where very basic services don't really exist."

Pram Gad and other experts say, for most of Greenland, commitments to housing, social services and spreading the wealth generated by fisheries are more likely to sway votes than a party's position on the Kannersuit mine.

All to say, while the fate of Kannersuit may be attracting election-watchers from around the world, as always in politics, all issues are local.

With files from Reuters


Why Greenland's election matters

Greenland heads to the polls on Tuesday in snap elections which could have major consequences for international interests in the Arctic.


© Getty Images

The vast territory, which belongs to Denmark but is autonomous, lies between North America and Europe and has a population of just 56,000.

Greenland's economy relies on fishing and and Danish subsidies, but melting ice and a planned mine could change the course of the vote - and the territory's future.

Here's what you need to know
.
© BBC

What's at stake


Disagreement over a controversial mining project in the south of Greenland has split the government and paved the way for this week's election.

The company that owns the site at Kvanefjeld says the mine has "the potential to become the most significant western world producer of rare earths", a group of 17 elements used to manufacture electronics and weapons.

The rush to claim an undersea mountain range

The Simuit (Forward) Party supports the development, arguing that it would provide hundreds of jobs and generate hundreds of millions of dollars annually over several decades, which could lead to greater independence from Denmark.

But the opposition Inuit Ataqatigiit (Community of the People) party has rejected the proposal, amid concerns about the potential for radioactive pollution and toxic waste.

The future of the Kvanefjeld mine is significant for a number of countries - the site is owned by an Australian company, Greenland Minerals, which is in turn backed by a Chinese company.
© Greenland Minerals Ltd/Handout via Reuters 
Many residents in the nearby town of Narsaq are concerned about the Kvanefjeld plans


Why is Greenland important?


Greenland has hit the headlines several times in recent years, with then-President Donald Trump suggesting in 2019 that the US could buy the territory.

Denmark quickly dismissed the idea as "absurd", but international interest in the territory's future has continued.

China already has mining deals with Greenland, while the US - which has a key Cold War-era air base at Thule - has offered millions in aid.
US announces millions in aid for Greenland
Could Greenland become China's Arctic base?

Denmark has itself acknowledged the territory's importance: in 2019 it placed Greenland at the top of its national security agenda for the first time.

And in March this year, one think tank concluded that the UK, the US, Australia, Canada and New Zealand - known collectively as the Five Eyes - should focus on Greenland to reduce their dependency on China for key mineral supplies.  

© EPA

Mining isn't Greenland's only issue, however.


The territory is on the front line of global warming, with scientists reporting record ice loss last year. This in turn has significant implications for low-lying coastal areas around the world.

But it is the retreating ice that has both increased mining opportunities and allowed ships to navigate waters more easily through the Arctic, which could reduce global shipping times.

Greenland is therefore an attractive prospect for western countries seeking to counter Russia's military build-up in the Arctic.

Greenland election shows divide over 
rare-earth metals mine

HELSINKI — Greenland is holding an early parliamentary election Tuesday focused in part on whether the semi-autonomous Danish territory should allow international companies to mine the sparsely populated Arctic island's substantial deposits of rare-earth metals.
© Provided by The Canadian Press

Lawmakers agreed on a snap election after the centre-right Democrats pulled out of Greenland's three-party governing coalition in February, leaving the government led by the centre-left Forward party with a minority in the national assembly, the 31-seat Inatsisartut.

One of the main reasons the Democrats withdrew was a deep political divide over a proposed mining project involving uranium and rare-earth metals in southern Greenland. Supporters see the Kvanefjeld mine project as a potential source of jobs and prosperity.

Outgoing Prime Minister Kim Kielsen pushed to give the green light to mine owner Greenland Minerals, an Australia-based company with Chinese ownership, to start operation. Erik Jensen — Kielsen’s recent successor as Forward party leader — is more hesitant and has been opposed to granting outright a mining license to the company.

Recent election polls showed the left-leaning Community of the People party (Inuit Ataqatigiit), a staunch opponent of the mine project, in position to become the largest party in the Greenlandic Parliament.

The opposition party has claimed that a majority of Greenland’s 56,000 inhabitants, most of them indigenous Inuit people, are against the project, largely for environmental reasons.

Observers stress political surveys in Greenland have proved to be uncertain, and the over 30% support level enjoyed by the Community of the People party in pre-election polls may not necessarily hold.

“A third of the voters decide at the last minute, and the support for (Community of the People) is overestimated,” said political scientist Leander Nielsen at the University of Greenland, as quoted by the Norwegian news agency NTB.

One of the Forward's party's initial justifications for granting a mining license to Greenland Minerals was that the proceeds from the project would strengthen Greenland’s economy and thus help in efforts to disengage the island completely from Denmark through independence — an ambition nurtured by Forward, the Community of the People and some other parties.

“In the past, I was very preoccupied with the fact that, of course, we must be independent. And so will we one day,” Greenland resident Lise Svenningsen told the Danish public broadcaster DR. “But I think that we should focus much more on the conditions of the population, and that politicians should try to act on things they promise year after year.”

The mining proposal is relevant beyond Greenland. The largely ice-covered island has the world’s largest undeveloped deposits of rare-earth metals, according to the U.S. Geological Survey.

Estimates show the Kvanefjeld mine could hold the largest deposit of rare-earth metals outside China, which currently accounts for more than 90% of global production.

Rare-earth metals are used in a wide array of sectors and products, including smartphones, wind turbines, microchips, batteries for electric cars and weapons systems.

In 2019, former President Donald Trump floated an idea to buy Greenland for the United States from Denmark for strategic reasons. The initiative was met with uproar in Copenhagen and dismissed as an absurd idea. However, international interest in Greenland has continued as major powers — the U.S., China and Russia — are racing to establish their presence in the Arctic.

Washington opened a U.S. consulate in Nuuk, Greenland's capital, last year as part of a new Arctic strategy adopted by the Trump administration.

Under a 1951 deal, NATO member Denmark has allowed the U.S. to build bases and radar stations on Greenland. The U.S. Air Force currently maintains one base in northern Greenland, Thule Air Force Base, 1,200 kilometres (745 miles) south of the North Pole.

Greenland, the world’s largest island that is not a continent, has its own government and Parliament, and relies on Denmark for defence, foreign and monetary policies.

Voting in Tuesday's election is set to end at 2200 GMT. Initial results are expected on Wednesday.

Jari Tanner, The Associated Press

 

Uyghur separatist movement cultivated by the US government for “toppling” Beijing

Established in 1998, the Uyghur American Association (UAA) is the Washington DC-based affiliate of the World Uyghur Congress (WUC), which claims to be “the sole legitimate organization of the Uyghur people” around the world. Portrayed by Western governments and media as the leading voice for Uyghur interests and human rights, the WUC has played a central role in shaping Western understanding of Xinjiang. 

As The Grayzone previously reported, the WUC is a right-wing, anti-communist, and ultra-nationalist network of exiled Uyghur separatists who have stated their intention to bring about the “fall of China” and establish an ethno-state called “East Turkestan” in Xinjiang. The WUC has developed deep ties to Washington’s regime change establishment and received extensive US government-funding and training. 

In recent years, the WUC has worked closely with US and Western governments, and partnered with fraud-prone pseudo-scholars such as Adrian Zenz to intensify their New Cold War against China, advocating for Chinese policy in Xinjiang to be labeled ‘genocide,’ along with sanctions and boycott.

The National Endowment for Democracy (NED) has been central to the rising international prominence of the Uyghur separatist movement. In 2020, the NED boasted that it has given Uyghur groups $8,758,300 since 2004 (including $75,000 in annual funding to the UAA) and claimed to be “the only institutional funder for Uyghur advocacy and human rights organizations.” 

“As a result of NED’s support, the Uyghur advocacy groups have grown both institutionally and professionally over the years,” said Akram Keram, a program officer and regional expert at NED. “These groups played critical roles in introducing the Uyghur cause in various international, regional, and national settings against China’s false narratives, bringing the Uyghur voice to the highest international levels, including the United Nations, European Parliament, and the White House. They provided firsthand, factual resources documenting the atrocities in East Turkistan, informing and inspiring the introduction of relevant resolutions, sanctions, and calls for action to hold the Chinese Communist Party accountable.”

“The National Endowment for Democracy has been exceptionally supportive of UAA,” echoed former UAA President, Nury Turkel, in 2006, “providing us with invaluable guidance and assistance” and “essential funding.” According to Turkel, thanks to NED support, the “UAA and UHRP have gained a new level of influence and credibility among media organizations in the U.S. and other countries.”

“In short, NED has helped us to increase our credibility in Washington and throughout the world. We are very moved by and grateful for their steadfast assistance,” stated Turkel.

Turkel confirmed that the UAA aims to leverage Washington’s support to advance regime change in China. In 2006, he told his allies, “as we witnessed the ‘Tulip Revolution’ and the toppling of the former government of Kyrgyzstan, our hopes were again reinforced.” Turkel emphasized that the US-sponsored color revolution sent a “strong message” to China, and recalled how he was immediately summoned to Bishkek to coordinate with the new government.

Nury Turkel and former Secretary of State Mike Pompeo meeting with Chinese dissidents in July 2020

The NED helped the UAA launch the Uyghur Human Rights Project (UHRP) in 2004, serving as its principal source of funding, with $1,244,698 in support between 2016 and ’19 alone. The UHRP has brought together leading figures of the WUC, including Turkel and Omer Kanat, and NED, with former NED Vice President, Louisa Greve, serving as the group’s Director of Global Advocacy

READ THE WHOLE ARTICLE HERE

https://thegrayzone.com/2021/03/31/china-uyghur-gun-soldiers-empire/

Tuesday, April 06, 2021

Facebook Sure Seems Desperate To Pass This Latest Data Breach Off As Old News For Some Reason

Brianna Provenzano 
4/6/2021

In the aftermath of bombshell reports of a massive data breach that may have compromised the personal information of as many as 533 million users, Facebook has committed absolutely to trying to spin the leak as old news, no big deal, definitely nothing to see here, no need to even think about this too much at all, really.

© Photo: Josh Edelson / AFP (Getty Images)

In a blog post published after 6 p.m. on Tuesday night, Mike Clark, Facebook’s product management director, directly alludes to an April 3 Business Insider article that reported that a hacker had published the personal data of hundreds of millions of Facebook users online for free over the weekend. In the post, however, Clark attempts to downplay the breach as a previously reported-on threat — one which is no longer active or pertinent to current users.

“We believe the data in question was scraped from people’s Facebook profiles by malicious actors using our contact importer prior to September 2019,” Clark writes. “...When we became aware of how malicious actors were using this feature in 2019, we made changes to the contact importer. In this case, we updated it to prevent malicious actors from using software to imitate our app and upload a large set of phone numbers to see which ones matched Facebook users.”

Facebook also says that it’s “confident that the specific issue that allowed [hackers] to scrape this data in 2019 no longer exists” — but that will likely be little comfort to users whose data is currently sitting exposed in an online trove for all the world to see.

The admission that Facebook knew of the hacks as early as 2019, but chose not inform users that their data had been compromised, is pretty wild in and of itself, particularly in light of the Cambridge Analytica data scandal that rocked the company less than five years ago. And yet, Clark’s insinuation that the data breach is a non-story is also being echoed by Facebook’s cronies all over Twitter, with communications officials Liz Bourgeois and Andy Stone chiming in on April 3 with statements about how reports of the breach were based on “old data” and that Facebook had “found and fixed this issue in August 2019.”

That timeline becomes more interesting when you remember that in 2018, the European Union passed the General Data Protection Regulation, or GDPR, which, among other things, exists to ensure that large, data-mining tech giants like Facebook are more transparent with users about how their information is being used — which includes disclosing instances where their data has been compromised. But in its own statement on the breach, the Data Protection Commission of Ireland recently claimed that Facebook responded to its requests for clarification by advising that the datasets appeared to have been scraped between June 2017 and April 2018 — conveniently, just one month before the GDPR went into effect.

“Because the scraping took place prior to GDPR, Facebook chose not to notify this as a personal data breach under GDPR,” the post reads.

How very lucky for Facebook that these data breaches would have been caught just one month before the platform was obligated to report them to the public, and that the fixes to the vulnerabilities were so thorough that users don’t even need to worry about the specifics of them after the fact. Looks like there’s nothing more to see here, folks!

The data leak in question, originally published in a “low-level hacking forum,” according to Insider, exposed data from users in at least 106 countries, including over 32 million based in the US, and included personal identifiers such as phone numbers, Facebook IDs, full names, locations, birthdates and, in some cases, email addresses. If you’re interested in checking to see if you’ve been compromised, the websites The News Each Day and HaveIBeenPwned have simple tools you can use to cross-reference your phone number with what’s been leaked online.

 

Chomsky on the ‘joke’ of ‘Russian interference’ and the savagery of US sanctions

Noam Chomsky says that ongoing US claims of Russian interference are a joke — all the more so as the US continues to ravage multiple states with savage sanctions that target civilian populations and COVID-19 bullying that denies countries Cuban doctors and Russian vaccines.

Noam Chomsky weighs in on the Putin-Biden row; new US claims of “Russian interference”; the “savagery” of US sanctions on Cuba, Iran, Syria, Venezuela and other nations; US pressure on Brazil to reject Russia’s COVID-19 vaccine and on Panama to reject Cuban doctors; and more. Chomsky’s latest book is “Chomsky for Activists.”

  

THE ORIGINAL ANTI MASQUER MEME



APRIL IS EARTH MONTH MEME

APRIL 22 EARTH DAY

 

GEORGE FLOYD 9:29 MEMES




 

I GOT MY JAB MEME


 

The Greater the Disaster, the Greater the Profits

The border-industrial complex in the post-Trump era

March 24, 2021
 Todd Miller


A photo released by Congressman Henry Cuellar's office shows a crowded U.S. Customs and Border Protection temporary overflow facility in Donna, Texas. According to Rep. Cueller, the photo was taken between March 20-21, 2021.,


In late February, I drove to see the Trump wall in Sasabe, Arizona. As soon as I parked, a green-striped Border Patrol vehicle stationed a quarter of a mile away began to creep down the dirt road toward us. Just ahead, a dystopian “No Trespassing” sign was flapping in the wind. It was cold as I stepped out of the car with my five-year-old son, William. The wall ahead of us, 30-feet high with steel bollards, was indeed imposing as it quavered slightly in the wind. Through its bars we could see Mexico, a broken panorama of hills filled with mesquites backed by a blue sky.

The Homeland Security vehicle soon pulled up next to us. An agent rolled down his window and asked me, “What are you doing? Joyriding?”

After I laughed in response to a word I hadn’t heard in years, the agent informed us that we were in a dangerous construction zone, even if this part of the wall had been built four months earlier. I glanced around. There were no bulldozers, excavators, or construction equipment of any sort. I wondered whether the lack of machinery reflected the campaign promise of the recently inaugurated Joe Biden that “not another foot” of Trump’s wall would be built.

Indeed, that was why I was here — to see what the border looked like as the post-Trump era began. President Biden had started his term with strong promises to reverse the border policies of his predecessor: families torn apart would be reunited and asylum seekers previously forced to stay in Mexico allowed to enter the United States. Given the Trump years, the proposals of the new administration sounded almost revolutionary.

And yet something else bothered me as we drove away: everything looked the same as it had for years. I’ve been coming to this stretch of border since 2001. I’ve witnessed its incremental disfigurement during the most dramatic border fortification period in this country’s history. In the early 2000s came an influx of Border Patrol agents, followed in 2007 by the construction of a 15-foot wall (that Senator Joe Biden voted for), followed by high-tech surveillance towers, courtesy of a multi-billion-dollar contract with the Boeing Corporation.

Believe me, the forces that shaped our southern border over the decades have been far more powerful than Donald Trump or any individual politician. During the 2020 election, it was commonly asserted that, by getting rid of Trump, the United States would create a more humane border and immigration system. And there was a certain truth to that, but a distinctly limited one. Underneath the theater of partisan politics, there remains a churning border-industrial complex, a conjunction of entrenched interests and relationships between the U.S. government — particularly the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) — and private corporations that has received very little attention.

The small border town of Sasabe and its surrounding region is a microcosm of this.

The cumulative force of that complex will now carry on in Trump’s wake. Indeed, during the 2020 election the border industry, created through decades of bipartisan fortification, actually donated more money to the Biden campaign and the Democrats than to Trump and the Republicans.

The Complex

In the 12 years from 2008 to 2020, Customs and Border Protection (CBP) and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) dolled out 105,000 contracts, or a breathtaking average of 24 contracts a day, worth $55 billion to private contractors. That sum exceeded their $52 billion collective budgets for border and immigration enforcement for the 28 years from 1975 to 2003. While those contracts included ones for companies like Fisher Sand and Gravel that built the 30-foot wall my son and I saw in Sasabe, many of them — including the most expensive — went to companies creating high-tech border fortification, ranging from sophisticated camera systems to advanced biometric and data-processing technologies.

This might explain the border industry’s interest in candidate Biden, who promised: “I’m going to make sure that we have border protection, but it’s going to be based on making sure that we use high-tech capacity to deal with it.”

Behind that bold, declarative sentence lay an all-too-familiar version of technological border protection sold as something so much more innocuous, harmless, and humane than what Trump was offering. As it happens, despite our former president’s urge to create a literal wall across hundreds of miles of borderlands, high-technology has long been and even in the Trump years remained a large part of the border-industrial complex.

One pivotal moment for that complex came in 2005 when the deputy secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, Michael Jackson (previously Lockheed Martin’s chief operating officer), addressed a conference room of border-industry representatives about creating a virtual or technological wall. “This is an unusual invitation,” he said then. “I want to make sure you have it clearly, that we’re asking you to come back and tell us how to do our business. We’re asking you. We’re inviting you to tell us how to run our organization.”

Of course, by then, the border and immigration enforcement system had already been on a growth spurt. During President Bill Clinton’s administration (1993-2001), for example, its annual budgets had nearly tripled from $1.5 billion to $4.3 billion. Clinton, in fact, initiated the immigration deterrence system still in place today in which Washington deployed armed agents, barriers, and walls, as well as high-tech systems to block the traditional urban places where immigrants had once crossed. They were funneled instead into dangerous and deadly spots like the remote and brutal Arizona desert around Sasabe. As Clinton put it in his 1995 State of the Union address:


“[O]ur administration has moved aggressively to secure our borders more by hiring a record number of new border guards, by deporting twice as many criminal aliens as ever before, by cracking down on illegal hiring, by barring welfare benefits to illegal aliens.”

Sound familiar?


The Clinton years, however, already seemed like ancient times when Jackson made that 2005 plea. He was speaking in the midst of a burgeoning Homeland Security era. After all, DHS was only created in 2002 in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. In fact, during George W. Bush’s years in office, border and immigration enforcement budgets grew from $4.2 billion in 2000 to $15.2 billion in 2008 — more, that is, than during any other presidency including Donald Trump’s. Under Bush, that border became another front in the war on terror (even if no terrorists crossed it), opening the money faucets. And that was what Jackson was underscoring — the advent of a new reality that would produce tens of thousands of contracts for private companies.


In addition, as U.S. war efforts in Afghanistan and Iraq began to wane, many security and defense companies pivoted toward the new border market. As one vendor pointed out to me at a Border Security Expo in Phoenix in 2012, “We are bringing the battlefield to the border.” That vendor, who had been a soldier in Afghanistan a few years earlier, smiled confidently, the banners of large weapons-makers like Raytheon hanging above him. At the time (as now), an “unprecedented boom period” was forecast for the border market. As the company VisionGain explained then, a “virtuous circle… would continue to drive spending in the long term based on three interlocking developments: ‘illegal immigration and terrorist infiltration,’ more money for border policing in ‘developing countries,’ and the ‘maturation’ of new technologies.”

Since 9/11, border-security corporate giants became big campaign contributors not only to presidential candidates, but also to key members of the Appropriations Committees and the Homeland Security Committees (both House and Senate) — all crucial when it came to border policies, contracts, and budgets. Between 2006 and 2018, top border contractors like General Dynamics, Lockheed Martin, Northrop Grumman, and Raytheon contributed a total of $27.6 million to members of the House Appropriations Committee and $6.5 million to members of the House Homeland Security Committee. And from 2002 to 2019, there were nearly 20,000 reported lobbying “visits” to congressional offices related to homeland security. The 2,841 visits reported for 2018 alone included ones from top CBP and ICE contractors Accenture, CoreCivic, GeoGroup, L3Harris, and Leidos.

By the time Donald Trump entered the White House in 2017, the border-industrial complex was truly humming. That year, he would oversee a $20-billion border and immigration budget and have at his disposal nearly 20,000 Border Patrol agents (up from 4,000 in 1994), 650 miles of already built walls and barriers, billions of dollars in border technology then in place, and more than 200 immigration-detention centers across the United States.

He claimed he was going to build his very own “big, fat, beautiful wall,” most of which, as it turned out, already existed. He claimed that he was going to clamp down on a border that was already remarkably clamped down upon. And in his own fashion, he took it to new levels.

That’s what we saw in Sasabe, where a 15-foot wall had recently been replaced with a 30-foot wall. As it happened, much of the 450 miles of wall the Trump administration did, in the end, build really involved interchanging already existing smaller barriers with monstrous ones that left remarkable environmental and cultural destruction in their wake.

Trump administration policies forced people seeking asylum to wait in Mexico, infants to appear in immigration court, and separated family members into a sprawling incarceration apparatus whose companies had been making up to $126 per person per day for years. He could have done little of this without the constantly growing border-industrial complex that preceded him and, in important ways, made him.

Nonetheless, in the 2020 election campaign, the border industry pivoted toward Biden and the Democrats. That pivot ensured one thing: that its influence would be strong, if not preeminent, on such issues when the new administration took over.

The Biden Years Begin at the Border

In early January 2021, Biden’s nominee to run DHS, Alejandro Mayorkas disclosed that, over the previous three years, he had earned $3.3 million from corporate clients with the WilmerHale law firm. Two of those clients were Northrop Grumman and Leidos, companies that Nick Buxton and I identified as top border contractors in Biden’s Border: The Industry, the Democrats and the 2020 Election, a report we co-authored for the Transnational Institute.

When we started to look at the 2020 campaign contributions of 13 top border contractors for CBP and ICE, we had no idea what to expect. It was, after all, a corporate group that included producers of surveillance infrastructure for the high-tech “virtual wall” along the border like L3Harris, General Dynamics, and the Israeli company Elbit Systems; others like Palantir and IBM produced border data-processing software; and there were also detention companies like CoreCivic and GeoGroup.

To our surprise, these companies had given significantly more to the Biden campaign ($5,364,994) than to Trump ($1,730,435). In general, they had shifted to the Democrats who garnered 55% of their $40 million in campaign contributions, including donations to key members of the House and Senate Appropriations and Homeland Security committees.

It’s still too early to assess just what will happen to this country’s vast border-and-immigration apparatus under the Biden administration, which has made promises about reversing Trumpian border policies. Still, it will be no less caught in the web of the border-industrial complex than the preceding administration.

Perhaps a glimpse of the future border under Biden was offered when, on January 19th, Homeland Security secretary nominee Mayorkas appeared for his Senate confirmation hearings and was asked about the 8,000 people from Honduras heading for the U.S. in a “caravan” at that very moment. The day before, U.S.-trained troops and police in Guatemala had thwarted and then deported vast numbers of them as they tried to cross into that country. Many in the caravan reported that they were heading north thanks to back-to-back catastrophic category 4 hurricanes that had devastated the Honduran and Nicaraguan coasts in November 2020.

Mayorkas responded rather generically that if people were found to qualify “under the law to remain in the United States, then we will apply the law accordingly, if they do not qualify to remain in the United States, then they won’t.” Given that there is no climate-refugee status available to anyone crossing the border that meant most of those who finally made it (if they ever did) wouldn’t qualify to stay.

It’s possible that, by the time I went to see that wall with my son in late February, some people from that caravan had already made it to the border, despite endless obstacles in their path. As we drove down Highway 286, also known as the Sasabe Road, there were reports of undocumented people from Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, and Mexico all traveling through the rugged Baboquivari mountain range to the west of us and the grim canyons to the east of us in attempts to avoid the Border Patrol and its surveillance equipment.

When President Dwight D. Eisenhower warned Americans against what he dubbed “the military-industrial complex” in 1961, he spoke of its “total influence — economic, political, even spiritual… felt in every city, every statehouse, every office of the Federal government.” Sixty years later, something similar could be said of the ever-expanding border-industrial complex. It needs just such climate disasters and just such caravans (or, as we’re seeing right now, just such “crises” of unaccompanied minors) to continue its never-ending growth, whether the president is touting a big, fat, beautiful wall or opting for high-tech border technology.

For my son and me, the enforcement apparatus first became noticeable at a checkpoint 25 miles north of the international boundary. Not only were green-uniformed agents interrogating passengers in any vehicle heading northwards, but a host of cameras focused on the vehicles passing by.

Whether they were license-plate readers or facial-recognition cameras I had no way of knowing. What I did know was that Northrop Grumman (which contributed $649,748 to Joe Biden and $323,014 to Donald Trump in the 2020 election campaign) had received a valuable contract to ensure that CBP’s biometric system included “modalities” of all sorts — face and voice data, iris recognition, scars and tattoos, possibly even DNA sample collection, and information about “relationship patterns” and “encounters” with the public. And who could tell if the Predator B drones that General Atomics produces — oh, by the way, that company gave $82,974 to Biden and $51,665 to Trump in 2020 — were above us (as they regularly are in the border regions) using Northrup Grumman’s VADER “man-hunting” radar system first deployed in Afghanistan?

As we traveled through that gauntlet, Border Patrol vehicles were everywhere, reinforcing the surveillance apparatus that extends 100 miles into the U.S. interior. We soon passed a surveillance tower at the side of the road first erected by the Boeing Corporation and renovated by Elbit Systems ($5,553 to Biden, $5,649 to Trump), one of dozens in the area. On the other side of that highway was a gravel clearing where a G4S ($49,233 to Biden, $33,019 to Trump) van usually idles. It’s a mobile prison the Border Patrol uses to transport its prisoners to short-term detention centers in Tucson. And keep in mind that there was so much we couldn’t see like the thousands of implanted motion sensors manufactured by a host of other companies.

Traveling through this border area, it’s hard not to feel like you’re in a profitable version of a classic panopticon, a prison system in which, wherever you might be, you’re being watched. Even five-year-old William was startled by such a world and, genuinely puzzled, asked me, “Why do the green men,” as he calls the Border Patrol, “want to stop the workers?”

By the time we got to that shard of Trump’s “big, fat, beautiful” wall, it seemed like just a modest part of a much larger system that left partisan politics in the dust. At its heart was never The Donald but a powerful cluster of companies with an active interest in working on that border until the end of time.

Just after the agent told us that we were in a construction zone and needed to leave, I noticed a pile of bollards near the dirt road that ran parallel to the wall. They were from the previous wall, the one Biden had voted for in 2006. As William and I drove back to Tucson through that gauntlet of inspection, I wondered what the border-industrial world would look like when he was my age and living in what could be an even more extreme world filled with ever more terrified people fleeing disaster.

And I kept thinking of that discarded pile of bollards, a reminder of just how easy it would be to tear that wall and the world that goes with it down.

Copyright 2021 Todd Miller

Follow TomDispatch on Twitter and join us on Facebook. Check out the newest Dispatch Books, John Feffer’s new dystopian novel Frostlands (the second in the Splinterlands series), Beverly Gologorsky’s novel Every Body Has a Story, and Tom Engelhardt’s A Nation Unmade by War, as well as Alfred McCoy’s In the Shadows of the American Century: The Rise and Decline of U.S. Global Power and John Dower’s The Violent American Century: War and Terror Since World War II.

Todd Miller, a TomDispatch regular, has written on border and immigration issues for the New York Times, Al Jazeera America, and the NACLA Report on the Americas. His latest book is Build Bridges, Not Walls: A Journey to a World Without Borders. You can follow him on Twitter @memomiller and view more of his work at toddmillerwrit
r.ecom

WE SHOULD ALL READ HALL

Why We Need Stuart Hall’s Imaginative Left

Why We Need Stuart Hall’s Imaginative Left.

 A pioneer of cultural studies, Hall showed a generation how to meld identity and Marxism.

April 3, 2021 
Jessica Loudis
THE NEW REPUBLIC

Stuart Hall, The Open University (OU) is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0


When Stuart Hall died in 2014, he was one of England’s best-known intellectuals, celebrated for his pioneering writings in cultural studies, a field he helped invent along with Raymond Williams, and for his work as a spokesman of the New Left. Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates, Jr. described him as “the Du Bois of Britain,” and The Guardian called himthe “godfather of multiculturalism.” During the six decades he lived in England, Hall appeared regularly on TV and radio (including on his own BBC series about the history of the Caribbean), popularized the term “Thatcherism,” co-wrote an influential book on race and policing, and helped found The New Left Review.

Hall took a more expansive view of popular culture than the previous generations of British leftists, who tended to deride it as a monolithic means by which the working-classes were subjected to upper-class hegemony. He saw pop culture as a field of struggle, which held the potential to bring about positive change, rather than simply oppression. As his thinking evolved, he came to insist on a larger vision of politics, one that ventured beyond traditional actors and institutions into more subjective realms. Politics, he argued, was not simply a matter of elections: Politics was everywhere, present in everything from soccer games to soap operas. “The conditions of existence,” he once remarked in an interview are “cultural, political and economic”—in that order.

Despite this reputation, Hall’s legacy was far from assured by the time he died. By 2014, his only single-author book had fallen out of print, and his essays were scattered across obscure journals and anthologies. In the London Review of Books, Terry Eagleton admonished Hall for his “frenetic recycling of theories in the realm of culture,” calling him “less an original thinker than a brilliant bricoleur, an imaginative reinventor of other people’s ideas.” Only recently have American publishers attempted to revive his legacy. Duke has launched a book series dedicated to his collected writings, edited by Catherine Hall and Bill Schwarz, as well as publishing a collection of essays by David Scott, a cultural anthropologist at Columbia who is working on a biography of Hall. Harvard is publishing a trifecta of lectures Hall delivered at the university in 1994 as The Fateful Triangle; MIT is releasing an anthology of essays about his work, and Routledge is putting out a conversation between Hall and bell hooks.

These efforts are well-timed: Hall’s work has become especially resonant as Britain has voted for a narrower identity and a more isolationist attitude to the rest of the world. Because of his own ancestry as “part Scottish, part African, part Portuguese-Jew,” Hall always saw identity as pluralistic, and rejected the notion that a person was strictly “English” or “Jamaican.” Towards the end of his life, Hall came to believe that the intransigence of cultural differences would not be able to mesh neatly with the government and conservative media’s increasing demands for “Britishness.” This was partly because of the “regressive modernization” Hall saw under Thatcher—which has echoes in Brexit and Donald Trump—but also because of the imaginative failure on the other side of the political divide; the way the left simply accepted a conservative vision of the world as the consensus on reality.

Hall was born in Jamaica in 1932 into the “brown middle class,” the child of a United Fruit worker and a light-skinned mother. His mother, whose family had once been wealthy, idealized the estate days of colonialism and prevented her son from playing with children she considered beneath them. As the darkest member of a family that insulated itself from the world of “black Jamaica,” Hall became, he writes, increasingly alienated at home and gravitated towards “the less-colour hierarchical Jamaica that was emerging.” Although independence was still decades away, Hall came of age at a time of burgeoning anti-imperialism. During his first term in high school, an older boy was suspended for throwing a book at a colonialist history teacher. That boy, Michael Manley, went on to become head of the leftist People’s National Party and, eventually, prime minister.

In 1951, Hall left Kingston for a Rhodes scholarship at Oxford. It was his first trip to England, and despite having grown up in the shadow of British Empire, he was struck by how “impenetrably English” everything seemed, how behavior was guided by a matrix of unwritten rules and social codes. Several days later, Hall’s conception of England was challenged when, passing by Paddington Station, he saw “a stream of black people spilling out into the London afternoon”—his first encounter with the Caribbean diaspora, which began arriving in England three years earlier on the SS Empire Windrush. He recalled the moment in his autobiography, Familiar Stranger:


It is hard to reconstruct the effect of seeing these black West Indian working men and women in London, with their strapped-up suitcases and bulging straw baskets, looking for all the world as if they planned a long stay. They had made extraordinary efforts within their means to dress up to the nines for the journey, as West Indians always did in those days when traveling or going to church: the men in soft-brim felt hats, cocked at a rakish angle, the women in flimsy, colourful cotton dresses, stepping uncertainly into the wind, or waiting for relatives or friends to rescue them from the enveloping strangeness. They hesitated in front of ticket windows, trying to figure out how to take another train to some equally unfamiliar place, to find people they knew who had preceded them.

As Hall would later say in interviews, he arrived in England when it was transitioning from “a class society to a mass society”: a moment marked by the influx of immigrants, the breakup of so-called “traditional” culture in favor of Americanization, and the rise of socially conservative, free-market politics.

At Oxford, that bastion of Englishness, Hall ran with the foreign students (excluding V.S. Naipaul, whom he remembers as a snob), and, though he initially aspired to be a novelist, became increasingly invested in “Third World” liberation politics. The literature department at the time was grappling with the legacy of F.R. Leavis, whose journal Scrutiny revolutionized criticism by applying it, disdainfully, to mass culture. Hall gravitated towards the Marxist scholars taking aim at Leavis’s belief that only great English novelists could save civilization from the so-called barbarians. The young critic read Raymond Williams and studied with Richard Hoggart, whose revolutionary Uses of Literacy would soon apply a literary-sociological lens to British working-class culture. At the same time, Hall began taking regular trips to London, staying with the “bearded radicals” his parents had warned him about.

Despite misgivings, Hall was on course to earn a place within the British literary establishment. He completed his undergraduate degree and started writing a doctoral thesis on Henry James, uncertain where this endeavor would lead him. Then, 1956 upended everything. As Russia invaded Hungary to crush a nascent revolution, and Britain and France invaded Egypt to stop the nationalization of the Suez Canal, Hall abandoned his thesis to become a part-time teacher and activist. While he had never been a fully committed Marxist, the events of that year, he would later write, “brought to an end a certain kind of socialist innocence.”

Out of this rude awakening, the New Left was born. The following year, as Ghana declared its independence, Hall founded a magazine called Universities and Left Review, which three years later would combine with The New Reasoner to form the New Left Review. In the interim, he set up and ran the Partisan Café in London to help fund the publication. The coffee bar became a favorite hangout for the anti-Stalinist left, attracting hundreds to its weekly meetings, including Eric Hobsbawm, Karel Reisz, Doris Lessing, John Berger, and undercover members of the police. The Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament also grew out of these gatherings, and Hall’s speeches for the organization helped solidify his reputation as an activist and public intellectual. Eight years later, he was recruited by Hoggart to help run the Birmingham Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies.

While Hall’s political commitments were established by the time he left Oxford, his intellectual methodology was forever shifting, moving from political sociology to media theory to structuralism—whatever proved most useful in unpacking the materials mass culture served up. Hall first gained recognition as a media theorist for his innovative work on reception theory, which analyzed how a reader’s background and experiences influenced their reading of a text. His thinking was revolutionized in the 1970s, however, when Frankfurt School and key continental European thinkers were translated into English. Suddenly, through their willingness to read politics through the lenses of institutions and popular culture, Adorno and Althusser offered new tools with which to understand the changing political climate of Britain.

Antonio Gramsci, the early twentieth-century Italian political theorist, proved especially influential. From him, Hall borrowed the notion of “conjunctures”—periods in which “different social, political, economic and ideological contradictions” come together to form distinctive historical moments. This idea would form the basis of Hall’s early approach to politics. The post-WWII consensus, in which Western Europe countries embraced cradle-to-grave welfare programs, was one such conjuncture; the rise of Thatcherism, as Hall would demonstrate, was another. Against those willing to subordinate history to sweeping global theories, Hall emphasized the distinctiveness of specific moments.

While Hall occasionally draws heavily on jargon, there is a generosity and literary imagination in his writing—a recognition that humans are complex, contradictory creatures shaped by, among other things, what they believe, where they live, how they shop, and who they sleep with. As a foreigner and a black man in England, Hall refused pious or reductionist interpretations of politics, such as dogmatic Marxism, which failed to account for people like him.

This is evident in his political essays, but it is conveyed more explicitly in a series of lectures he delivered at the University of Urbana-Champaign in the summer of 1983, recently reissued by Duke as Cultural Studies 1983, which would become the theoretical basis for the field. The lectures construct an analytic framework through borrowing from, and occasionally discarding, the ideas of Hoggart, Leavis, Durkheim, and Levi-Strauss, as well as Althusser and Gramsci. In these talks, we see Hall questioning Marxist orthodoxy, and grasping beyond it:


I wonder how it is that all the people I know are absolutely convinced they are not in false consciousness, but can tell at the drop of a hat that everybody else is. I have never understood how anybody can advance in the field of political organization and struggle by ascribing an absolute distinction between those who can see through transparent surfaces, through the complexity of social relations… Indeed, I have always undertaken to move from the opposite position, assuming that all ideologies which have ever organized men and women organically have something true about them.

Hall characterized ideology as the frameworks with which people translate and interpret society, and he saw them functioning all around him—on TV and in pubs, in classrooms and cinemas, and especially in media. As historian Frank Mort notes, while reading culture as political was groundbreaking at the time, it did draw on a history of left-leaning sociological work in Britain. (Accordingly, Hall once remarked that he wanted “to do sociology better than the sociologists.”) From the 1930s to the mid-60s, the Mass Observation movement aimed to chronicle the “everyday lives” of British people, and in the 1950s the Institute of Community Studies mapped the family structures of low-income communities in London. The Institute eventually spawned the Open University, where Hall taught for 18 years after leaving Birmingham.

By the mid-‘60s, Hall had married Catherine Barrett, a British feminist historian whose work would deeply influence his own, and had co-written The Popular Arts, one of the first books to apply serious analysis to popular film. At that point, the couple was living in the industrial English city, which, as James Vernon observes in an excellent essay on Hall and race, was riven by racial tensions. The year they moved there, Vernon writes, a “Conservative Party candidate ran an election campaign on the slogan ‘If you want a nigger for a neighbour, vote Labour.’ ” Three years later, in 1968, conservative MP Enoch Powell would deliver his infamous “rivers of blood” speech in Birmingham, suggesting that a flood of immigrants would result in just that. That same year, Catherine gave birth to their daughter, the first of two children.

The late ‘60s and early ‘70s in England saw the rise of left-wing social movements, namely black power and feminism, which Catherine participated in by starting Birmingham’s first women’s liberation group. It was also the era of screaming headlines about crime and the so-called “Sus” laws, which gave police carte blanche to stop and harass “suspicious” young (black) men. This set the stage for Hall’s breakthrough work, which applied a zoom lens to the conflicted national mood. InPolicing the Crisis, Hall and his co-authors examined the explosion of news reports about the rise of “muggings” in the UK, arguing that this trend captured a moral panic about outsiders and immigrants, and generally reflected a feeling of decline as England, struggling with unemployment and an inefficient welfare state, transitioned away from a social democratic order.

Hall’s analysis, which elaborated on his earlier media studies work, was among the first to identify journalistic fearmongering and openness to austerity as the factors that would bring radical conservatives to power. In the final sentence, he predicted the continued ascent of Margaret Thatcher. Unfortunately, he was right. In 1979, the year after Crisis was published, Thatcher was elected Prime Minister.

Thatcher’s victory marked the beginning of a new historical moment. Elected by lower- and middle-class voters following England’s “winter of discontent,” Thatcher took aim at trade unions, entitlement programs, and nationalized industries—gutting the Keynesian public policy that had propped up the country for more than three decades. In its place, she offered what Hall later described as a “a deeply rooted, closed conservatism around a tiny myth of a nation with a homogenous culture… coupled with a rabid short-term individualism that is tied to the market place.”

In Thatcherism, Hall found the case study that would consume much of his work and, ironically, exemplify the kind of cultural politics he had hoped to activate on the left. His essay “The Great Moving Right Show,” written in 1979, was an attempt to dissect the phenomenon and its traction among voters. To Hall, Thatcherism reflected what Gramsci called an “organic” crisis: a moment when people cease to trust political leaders and parties, and upstart forces challenge those seeking to conserve the old order. During these periods, contradictions arise that band together disparate groups, and the very idea of what is considered “ordinary common sense” changes. Thatcher did not succeed by tricking voters, Hall posits, but rather by constructing a worldview that mapped onto their real lives and problems (if not their class identities) and advancing policies that reflected those concerns. He takes this as a reminder that “interests are not given but always have to be politically and ideologically constructed.” Hall would spend the rest of his life criticizing Thatcher, but he did credit the ingenuity of her tactics.

As the ‘80s advanced, the children of the Windrush generation took to the streets to protest the structural racism that their parents had endured in silence, and Hall turned his attention to the left’s failure in the face of Thatcherism. In his riveting 1987 essay “Gramsci and Us,” Hall blamed the Labour Party for its administrative understanding of politics, and its belief that political subjects are one-dimensional actors whose motivations can be reduced to economic interests. That year in Britain, there was no shortage of crises. Thatcher was reelected, race riots broke out in Leeds, and one person a day was dying of AIDS. Yet the left, Hall wrote,


does not seem to have the slightest conception of what putting together a new historical project entails. It does not understand the necessarily contradictory nature of human subjects, of social identities. It does not understand politics as a production. It does not see that it is possible to connect with the ordinary feelings and experiences which people have in their everyday lives, and yet to articulate them progressively to a more advanced, modern form of social consciousness. … It does not recognize that the identities which people carry in their heads—their subjectivities, their cultural life, their sexual life, their family life and their ethnic identities, are always incomplete and have become massively politicized.

Thatcher’s reality was now Britain’s, and party politics offered no answers. In light of this, Hall focused his attention on the “identities which people carry around in their heads.” Culture was now the main turf of politics, and individual identities were being negotiated on this turf. The left, despite its claims to inclusivity and social justice, had failed to provide a vocabulary that was human and specific enough for people to recognize themselves in.

Meanwhile, across England younger generations of black and Asian artists were discovering Hall’s work. This included Isaac Julien, Keith Piper, and other visual artists and filmmakers who would eventually form the British Black Arts Movement. John Akomfrah, a filmmaker whose archival documentary The Stuart Hall Project (2013) rivals Raoul Peck’s I am Not Your Negro in its intellectual and emotional depth, was among them. Describing Hall’s allure in Stuart Hall: Conversations, Projects, Legacies, Akomfrah wrote that “for a group of young people who had gone from coloured to black… and many other derogatory epithets in between in their very short lives,” Hall’s ability to move fluidly between identities, subjects and theoretical positions was precisely the appeal. In the last decades of his life, Hall became the founding chair of Iniva (Institute of International Visual Arts) and the photography organization Autograph ABP, both of which named their libraries in his honor, and he continued working with the British Film Institute, a relationship that extended back to the ‘60s.

Where organized politics had failed, art emerged as a way to access individual subjectivity. To see “how difference operates inside people’s heads,” Hall said in a 2007 interview, “you have to go to art, you have to go to culture—to where people imagine, where they fantasize, where they symbolize.”

Jessica Loudis is the editor of World Policy Journal.