cbc.caAddressing the role of men in conjugal violence
After the killings of 8 women in 8 weeks in Quebec, psychotherapist and author David Archer says we need a reckoning about what it means to be a man.
Thursday, April 22, 2021
cbc.caChretien involved in secret plan to bury foreign nuclear waste in Labrador
Duration: 04:28
2021-04-02
Radio-Canada’s Enquete has discovered a secret plan to bury foreign nuclear waste in Labrador. The proposal was made by a group of Canadian, American and Japanese businesspeople and a series of emails reveal former prime minister Jean Chrétien played a key role.
Afua Cooper: My 30-year effort to bring Black studies to Canadian universities is still an upward battle
Since my time as a graduate student to my present appointment as professor at Dalhousie University, I have been involved with championing and developing Black studies in universities and beyond.
Afua Cooper, professor of Black Studies, Dalhousie University 2021-04-04
© (Shutterstock) Adding Black studies to university curricula in Canada has been an upward battle.
Previously, within Canadian universities, not many scholars who work in creating knowledge about Black people called it Black studies. For many, “Black studies” was something that happened in the United States. In the 1990s, as a doctoral student conducting research in Black Canadian history, I developed and taught courses that consciously used the terms “Black” or “African Canadian.” Such courses included “African Canadian History,” “Black Ontario” and “Black Feminist history.”
As a result, I have come face-to-face in dealing with the resistance to implementing Black studies, and the pitfalls involved in the process.
Classroom encounters
I learned very early on that teaching Black and African Canadian history was dangerous. During my doctoral years at the University of Toronto, I taught a course called “400 years of African Canadian history.” It was the late ‘90s, and during the third class of the semester, in the middle of my lecture, a white man, who always sat in the front row of the class suddenly got up and began abusing me with the n-word. He then proceeded to lambast all immigrants as people ruining the country, and that we “all should go back to where we came from.”
It was one of those moments where time stood still. I marked the man’s distance from me, and checked to see if he had a weapon. The students reacted immediately. Several surrounded the man, and campus police were called. The racist was escorted from the building and the police took our statements. We were all shaken. I was escorted to my car by a security officer, who informed me that the matter would be reported to the Toronto Police.
The university’s response was to change the location of the class twice during the rest of the semester. Students and professor were not notified of the new location until a day or so before class, and by telephone. For the rest of the term, a plainclothes undercover Black policeman sat in my class. At the end of each class, he escorted me to my car, checked the car and the trunk, and he would leave once I got in the vehicle, locked the doors and drove off. If I took the train or bus, he would ride with me for at least two stops.
The student who attacked me was never charged. But what was it that made him pay tuition to register and attend classes, only to respond in such a way?
That wasn’t the only time I received a hateful response: Another semester when I offered the same course, I received hate mail in my campus mailbox. The letters were filled with racist diatribe from anonymous senders who were upset that the university was offering Black history.
Introducing Black studies
As a doctoral student, I was told by a senior academic that, “Black history was not at the cutting edge of Canadian social history.” Another senior male historian told me that I was wasting my time in pursuing Black Canadian history because there were very “few” Black people living in Canada during the time period I was focusing on. I mentioned to him that only a few people relative to the population were involved in the Upper Canadian Rebellion and yet volumes upon volumes have been written on this topic. The response of these two senior scholars to my attempt to research and write Black history was emblematic of that of the department as a whole.
After completing my PhD with a focus on Black Canadian history, I later taught Caribbean history and studies at Ryerson University, where I helped set up the Caribbean Research Centre.
I did additional tenures at Simon Fraser University, York University and the University of Toronto. At these places, I taught, created and designed new courses on women’s studies and Black history and studies. I thought deeply about how to bring Black studies into the universities, while being keenly aware that Black history, for example, was viewed as an important and legitimate branch of scholarly inquiry.
In 2009, I chaired an international meeting of Black studies scholars — historians, community activists, artists, students and workers — in a conference called “Knowledge Production and the Black Experience.” One outcome of this conference was the establishment of the Black Canadian Studies Association (BCSA), which has served as a site of Black studies mobilization within and beyond Canada.
In 2011, I received the James R. Johnston Chair in Black Canadian Studies at Dalhousie University, the only named Black studies chair in Canada. There, I threw myself into knowledge mobilization: teaching, researching, designing and developing new courses, community outreach and establishing a new research agenda with a focus on slavery and freedom. I led efforts to investigate Dalhousie’s relationship to slavery and race, the findings which were published as a report, “Lord Dalhousie’s History on Slavery and Race.”
I eventually established a minor in Black and African diaspora studies, which at present is being turned into a major. The flagship course, which I designed and taught, “Introduction to African Canadian Studies,” began with a full complement of 70 students. The launching of the minor was a milestone in my journey to establish Black studies within Canadian universities.
Countering biased assumptions
Why are Canadian universities reluctant to establish Black studies program? The fundamental reason has to do with the belief that Black scholarship and knowledge are unworthy and inferior, and therefore do not matter.
Anti-Black racism has been an integral part of the Canadian intellectual tradition. This tradition has actively denied Blacks a role in history and nation building, erasing Black people and their history from the Canadian historical canon.
Including Black studies within the curricula of universities and colleges would mean not only rolling out an interdisciplinary program from social sciences and humanities, but also employing a transdisciplinary approach that would cut across faculties such as law, social work, the hard sciences, engineering and health fields. Public history and engagements with community and governments would also form part of this effort.
This would help to advance several urgent equity and diversity imperatives with respect to learning, teaching and research.
Previously, within Canadian universities, not many scholars who work in creating knowledge about Black people called it Black studies. For many, “Black studies” was something that happened in the United States. In the 1990s, as a doctoral student conducting research in Black Canadian history, I developed and taught courses that consciously used the terms “Black” or “African Canadian.” Such courses included “African Canadian History,” “Black Ontario” and “Black Feminist history.”
As a result, I have come face-to-face in dealing with the resistance to implementing Black studies, and the pitfalls involved in the process.
Classroom encounters
I learned very early on that teaching Black and African Canadian history was dangerous. During my doctoral years at the University of Toronto, I taught a course called “400 years of African Canadian history.” It was the late ‘90s, and during the third class of the semester, in the middle of my lecture, a white man, who always sat in the front row of the class suddenly got up and began abusing me with the n-word. He then proceeded to lambast all immigrants as people ruining the country, and that we “all should go back to where we came from.”
It was one of those moments where time stood still. I marked the man’s distance from me, and checked to see if he had a weapon. The students reacted immediately. Several surrounded the man, and campus police were called. The racist was escorted from the building and the police took our statements. We were all shaken. I was escorted to my car by a security officer, who informed me that the matter would be reported to the Toronto Police.
The university’s response was to change the location of the class twice during the rest of the semester. Students and professor were not notified of the new location until a day or so before class, and by telephone. For the rest of the term, a plainclothes undercover Black policeman sat in my class. At the end of each class, he escorted me to my car, checked the car and the trunk, and he would leave once I got in the vehicle, locked the doors and drove off. If I took the train or bus, he would ride with me for at least two stops.
The student who attacked me was never charged. But what was it that made him pay tuition to register and attend classes, only to respond in such a way?
That wasn’t the only time I received a hateful response: Another semester when I offered the same course, I received hate mail in my campus mailbox. The letters were filled with racist diatribe from anonymous senders who were upset that the university was offering Black history.
Introducing Black studies
As a doctoral student, I was told by a senior academic that, “Black history was not at the cutting edge of Canadian social history.” Another senior male historian told me that I was wasting my time in pursuing Black Canadian history because there were very “few” Black people living in Canada during the time period I was focusing on. I mentioned to him that only a few people relative to the population were involved in the Upper Canadian Rebellion and yet volumes upon volumes have been written on this topic. The response of these two senior scholars to my attempt to research and write Black history was emblematic of that of the department as a whole.
After completing my PhD with a focus on Black Canadian history, I later taught Caribbean history and studies at Ryerson University, where I helped set up the Caribbean Research Centre.
I did additional tenures at Simon Fraser University, York University and the University of Toronto. At these places, I taught, created and designed new courses on women’s studies and Black history and studies. I thought deeply about how to bring Black studies into the universities, while being keenly aware that Black history, for example, was viewed as an important and legitimate branch of scholarly inquiry.
In 2009, I chaired an international meeting of Black studies scholars — historians, community activists, artists, students and workers — in a conference called “Knowledge Production and the Black Experience.” One outcome of this conference was the establishment of the Black Canadian Studies Association (BCSA), which has served as a site of Black studies mobilization within and beyond Canada.
In 2011, I received the James R. Johnston Chair in Black Canadian Studies at Dalhousie University, the only named Black studies chair in Canada. There, I threw myself into knowledge mobilization: teaching, researching, designing and developing new courses, community outreach and establishing a new research agenda with a focus on slavery and freedom. I led efforts to investigate Dalhousie’s relationship to slavery and race, the findings which were published as a report, “Lord Dalhousie’s History on Slavery and Race.”
I eventually established a minor in Black and African diaspora studies, which at present is being turned into a major. The flagship course, which I designed and taught, “Introduction to African Canadian Studies,” began with a full complement of 70 students. The launching of the minor was a milestone in my journey to establish Black studies within Canadian universities.
Countering biased assumptions
Why are Canadian universities reluctant to establish Black studies program? The fundamental reason has to do with the belief that Black scholarship and knowledge are unworthy and inferior, and therefore do not matter.
Anti-Black racism has been an integral part of the Canadian intellectual tradition. This tradition has actively denied Blacks a role in history and nation building, erasing Black people and their history from the Canadian historical canon.
Including Black studies within the curricula of universities and colleges would mean not only rolling out an interdisciplinary program from social sciences and humanities, but also employing a transdisciplinary approach that would cut across faculties such as law, social work, the hard sciences, engineering and health fields. Public history and engagements with community and governments would also form part of this effort.
This would help to advance several urgent equity and diversity imperatives with respect to learning, teaching and research.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Afua Cooper does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Elizabeth Steyn, Cassels Brock Fellow and Assistant Professor of Mining and Finance Law (Western Law); Faculty Member of the Institute for Earth and Space Exploration (Western Space), Western University
2021-04-04
In this era of climate crisis, space mining is a topic of increasing relevance. The need for a net-zero carbon economy requires a surge in the supply of non-renewable natural resources such as battery metals. This forms the background to a new space race involving nations and the private sector.
In this era of climate crisis, space mining is a topic of increasing relevance. The need for a net-zero carbon economy requires a surge in the supply of non-renewable natural resources such as battery metals. This forms the background to a new space race involving nations and the private sector.
© (NASA) Cliffs in ancient ice on Mars.
Read more: How business is taking the space race to new frontiers
Canada is a space-faring nation, a world leader in mining and a major player in the global carbon economy. It’s therefore well-positioned to actively participate in the emerging space resources domain.
But the issues arising in this sphere are bigger than Canada, since they involve the future of mankind — on Earth and in space.
Read more: How business is taking the space race to new frontiers
Canada is a space-faring nation, a world leader in mining and a major player in the global carbon economy. It’s therefore well-positioned to actively participate in the emerging space resources domain.
But the issues arising in this sphere are bigger than Canada, since they involve the future of mankind — on Earth and in space.
© (AP Photo/John Raoux) A United Launch Alliance Atlas V rocket lifts off at the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station in July in Cape Canaveral, Fla. The mission sent a Mars rover to the Red Planet to search for signs of life and explore the planet’s geology.
Battery metals in hot demand
Battery metals in hot demand
On Earth, attempts to address global warming include switching to a net-zero carbon economy through mass rollouts of electric vehicle fleets and investments in large-scale renewable generation infrastructure. Doing this successfully would require vast quantities of battery metals (lithium, cobalt, nickel), critical minerals (copper) and rare earth elements — so much so that market analysts have warned of a potential metals supercycle. In a supercycle, demand wildly outstrips supply, relentlessly driving up prices.
For this reason, the mining industry is actively looking towards new frontiers in mining. These include the circular economy (recycling and enhanced mine waste management), deep sea mining and space mining. Space mining holds the potential for rich rewards, but also comes with robust challenges.
© (NASA) A photo from the surface of Mars from the Perseverance rover mission on Mars.
One of the most serious challenges is the lack of a cohesive regulatory framework for governing mining in outer space. While the 1967 Outer Space Treaty has been signed by all space-faring nations and is widely considered to be the constitutional document of outer space law, it has interpretation gaps.
Importantly, it determines that no nation can claim any celestial body (such as the moon) for itself — but it’s silent on whether derivative resources can be owned.
Earth lawyers contemplating space-mining projects are likely to look at four aspects: security of tenure, the fiscal regime, the bankability of the project and the project’s feasibility. Let’s break them down.
1. Security of tenure
In mining terms, security of tenure means having secure and stable rights throughout the mining cycle. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty is unclear on who would own any extracted resources, and interpretations vary.
So far, Luxembourg and the United States have enacted domestic legislation that favours the possibility of claiming extracted resources, thereby bringing security of tenure to space mining companies located in those jurisdictions.
2. The fiscal regime
This issue refers to the payment of taxes, royalties or the like. Here, the 1979 Moon Agreement comes into play. Only two space-faring countries are party to it: India and Australia.
Read more: Australia has long valued an outer space shared by all. Mining profits could change this
There’s disagreement on the role that the Moon Agreement should play in outer space law. Some argue that it’s not pertinent to non-party countries; others point to its language and suggest parallels with the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). Both instruments refer to the “common heritage of mankind.”
UNCLOS has set up an international regulatory body, the International Seabed Authority, to licence mining in the deep sea on a royalty payment basis. Royalties are then to be distributed equitably among all nations on Earth. Some argue for a similar system to apply to outer space.
3. Bankability of the project
The third issue, project bankability, concerns the capacity of the project to attract funding.
To a large degree this will be determined by the prior two issues: security of tenure and the applicable fiscal regime. This again demonstrates the need for agreement on a clear legal framework before rushing into action.
4. Project feasibility
The last issue, has several facets. Technical feasibility is currently enjoying a lot of attention, with much research and development going into the advanced robotics and automated systems that would be needed for space mining operations.
Read more: ‘Made in space’: tangible reality or daydreaming?
Technological breakthroughs to date include the discovery of water crystals on the moon and on Mars, and the harnessing of 3D printing technology in space for manufacturing purposes. These make space mining more viable.
With the world’s two wealthiest people now both engaged in the space race — Jeff Bezos with Blue Origin and Elon Musk with SpaceX — we can expect rapid technological acceleration
One of the most serious challenges is the lack of a cohesive regulatory framework for governing mining in outer space. While the 1967 Outer Space Treaty has been signed by all space-faring nations and is widely considered to be the constitutional document of outer space law, it has interpretation gaps.
Importantly, it determines that no nation can claim any celestial body (such as the moon) for itself — but it’s silent on whether derivative resources can be owned.
Earth lawyers contemplating space-mining projects are likely to look at four aspects: security of tenure, the fiscal regime, the bankability of the project and the project’s feasibility. Let’s break them down.
1. Security of tenure
In mining terms, security of tenure means having secure and stable rights throughout the mining cycle. The 1967 Outer Space Treaty is unclear on who would own any extracted resources, and interpretations vary.
So far, Luxembourg and the United States have enacted domestic legislation that favours the possibility of claiming extracted resources, thereby bringing security of tenure to space mining companies located in those jurisdictions.
2. The fiscal regime
This issue refers to the payment of taxes, royalties or the like. Here, the 1979 Moon Agreement comes into play. Only two space-faring countries are party to it: India and Australia.
Read more: Australia has long valued an outer space shared by all. Mining profits could change this
There’s disagreement on the role that the Moon Agreement should play in outer space law. Some argue that it’s not pertinent to non-party countries; others point to its language and suggest parallels with the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS). Both instruments refer to the “common heritage of mankind.”
UNCLOS has set up an international regulatory body, the International Seabed Authority, to licence mining in the deep sea on a royalty payment basis. Royalties are then to be distributed equitably among all nations on Earth. Some argue for a similar system to apply to outer space.
3. Bankability of the project
The third issue, project bankability, concerns the capacity of the project to attract funding.
To a large degree this will be determined by the prior two issues: security of tenure and the applicable fiscal regime. This again demonstrates the need for agreement on a clear legal framework before rushing into action.
4. Project feasibility
The last issue, has several facets. Technical feasibility is currently enjoying a lot of attention, with much research and development going into the advanced robotics and automated systems that would be needed for space mining operations.
Read more: ‘Made in space’: tangible reality or daydreaming?
Technological breakthroughs to date include the discovery of water crystals on the moon and on Mars, and the harnessing of 3D printing technology in space for manufacturing purposes. These make space mining more viable.
With the world’s two wealthiest people now both engaged in the space race — Jeff Bezos with Blue Origin and Elon Musk with SpaceX — we can expect rapid technological acceleration
.
© (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky) Bezos speaks at an event to unveil Blue Origin’s Blue Moon lunar lander in May 2019 in Washington.
Economic feasibility means that space mining would have to make financial sense. The looming shortage in non-renewable natural resources coupled with technological advances and the mind-boggling mineral wealth present in even a single asteroid may well make it so.
Peaceful use of outer space
There’s an additional reason why international agreement and co-operation in the outer space domain is crucial: the peaceful use of outer space, as required by the Outer Space Treaty.
In October 2020, eight countries signed a NASA-led initiative called the Artemis Accords. These included the United States, Canada, Australia and Luxembourg. Notably absent were Russia and China, who have since agreed to collaborate with each other on space initiatives.
Legal issues about the ownership of space resources must urgently be addressed to avoid space wars over natural resources between superpowers like the U.S., Russia and China. This includes the legal status of the Artemis Accords. Ideally, it should be done before space mining starts.
Finally, space mining raises certain ethical questions, such as whether the moon could be considered a legal person, if space mining would entail a new form of colonization and how the common good of mankind could best be served through mining in space.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Elizabeth Steyn does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Economic feasibility means that space mining would have to make financial sense. The looming shortage in non-renewable natural resources coupled with technological advances and the mind-boggling mineral wealth present in even a single asteroid may well make it so.
Peaceful use of outer space
There’s an additional reason why international agreement and co-operation in the outer space domain is crucial: the peaceful use of outer space, as required by the Outer Space Treaty.
In October 2020, eight countries signed a NASA-led initiative called the Artemis Accords. These included the United States, Canada, Australia and Luxembourg. Notably absent were Russia and China, who have since agreed to collaborate with each other on space initiatives.
Legal issues about the ownership of space resources must urgently be addressed to avoid space wars over natural resources between superpowers like the U.S., Russia and China. This includes the legal status of the Artemis Accords. Ideally, it should be done before space mining starts.
Finally, space mining raises certain ethical questions, such as whether the moon could be considered a legal person, if space mining would entail a new form of colonization and how the common good of mankind could best be served through mining in space.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Elizabeth Steyn does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
How Kahnawake's cross-border ironworkers are dealing with isolation from their families, community
Ka’nhehsí:io Deer CBC 2021-04-05
© Submitted by Hogan Gilbert Hogan Gilbert is a third-year apprentice with New York's Local 40 ironworkers union. Like many ironworkers from Kahnawake, Que., he's faced isolation during the past year to protect friends, family and the community from…
Like many Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) families, Hogan Gilbert's has a rich history in ironwork, and the trade has taken him far from home.
Gilbert and countless other ironworkers from Kahnawake, Que., near Montreal, travel roughly 600 kilometres up and down the I-87 every week to build New York City's bridges and skyscrapers. It's a longstanding tradition that has spanned multiple generations of Kanien'kehá:ka families.
But that part of ironwork life has changed drastically as a result of the coronavirus pandemic. With the closure of the Canada-U.S. border and strict public health measures, many have been isolated from their families, friends, and community.
"Being here for so long really makes you miss town," said Gilbert, 31, a third-year apprentice with New York's Local 40 ironworkers union.
"You don't know how much you appreciate home until it's not accessible anymore."
Now, after months of visits through windows or camping in yards to keep distance, the first doses of vaccines have arrived — and Kahnawake's ironworkers see an end to their isolation on the horizon.
'The solitude was crazy'
In March 2020, before the federal government's orders under the Quarantine Act, Kahnawake's COVID-19 task force implemented a number of measures for cross-border workers as a way to minimize risk of transmitting the virus.
It recommended workers stay at their job site until further notice or quarantine for two weeks if they chose to come home.
"That was the hardest part. That was the longest part of the year," said Gilbert.
"The solitude was crazy, to be really honest. I was alone every day for months."
Mike White, 36, another apprentice ironworker, made the decision to take a leave from work for five months to stay in Kahnawake with his fiancée and four children.
"I only returned to NYC in late August. Fortunately, I got the same job with the same company," he said in an interview from New York.
"Things were definitely different. We got tested twice a week and a lot of safety measures were put in place."
But travelling back and forth meant isolating from his family, and being able to speak with them only through a window.
"It was definitely hard on everyone," he said.
"Things are improving generally both back home and over here in NYC. I take every precaution necessary. I bring my groceries from home, drive to and from work and that's it."
Like many Kanien'kehá:ka (Mohawk) families, Hogan Gilbert's has a rich history in ironwork, and the trade has taken him far from home.
Gilbert and countless other ironworkers from Kahnawake, Que., near Montreal, travel roughly 600 kilometres up and down the I-87 every week to build New York City's bridges and skyscrapers. It's a longstanding tradition that has spanned multiple generations of Kanien'kehá:ka families.
But that part of ironwork life has changed drastically as a result of the coronavirus pandemic. With the closure of the Canada-U.S. border and strict public health measures, many have been isolated from their families, friends, and community.
"Being here for so long really makes you miss town," said Gilbert, 31, a third-year apprentice with New York's Local 40 ironworkers union.
"You don't know how much you appreciate home until it's not accessible anymore."
Now, after months of visits through windows or camping in yards to keep distance, the first doses of vaccines have arrived — and Kahnawake's ironworkers see an end to their isolation on the horizon.
'The solitude was crazy'
In March 2020, before the federal government's orders under the Quarantine Act, Kahnawake's COVID-19 task force implemented a number of measures for cross-border workers as a way to minimize risk of transmitting the virus.
It recommended workers stay at their job site until further notice or quarantine for two weeks if they chose to come home.
"That was the hardest part. That was the longest part of the year," said Gilbert.
"The solitude was crazy, to be really honest. I was alone every day for months."
Mike White, 36, another apprentice ironworker, made the decision to take a leave from work for five months to stay in Kahnawake with his fiancée and four children.
"I only returned to NYC in late August. Fortunately, I got the same job with the same company," he said in an interview from New York.
"Things were definitely different. We got tested twice a week and a lot of safety measures were put in place."
But travelling back and forth meant isolating from his family, and being able to speak with them only through a window.
"It was definitely hard on everyone," he said.
"Things are improving generally both back home and over here in NYC. I take every precaution necessary. I bring my groceries from home, drive to and from work and that's it."
© Angel Horn Photography White, left, had to isolate from his fiancée and four children when he returned to Kahnawake from working in New York City.
Gilbert has had a similar experience. Over the fall and winter, he isolated from his girlfriend when home by camping in their backyard or staying at hotels until it became too expensive to do so.
The extra precautions the couple took were for the safety of elders and the most vulnerable in the community.
"We were extra cautious because I see my parents a lot and they work with the elders, so we distance ourselves from each other in order to protect everyone around us," said his girlfriend Maylan Jacobs.
"It feels better that he's being tested regularly and it comes back negative, but there's always still that chance so it's kind of like I have to pick between seeing him and seeing my family which is a tough one to make."
The end of the tunnel
As of Feb. 21, new testing and quarantine requirements are required when entering Canada. Essential workers on infrastructure projects, such as ironworkers, are exempt.
However, the task force in Kahnawake remains cautious, giving ironworkers the OK to return to the community without having to isolate as long as they have had negative COVID-19 PCR test results in the last 72 hours.
White is getting tested every Wednesday before coming home on Friday evenings. His union pays for PCR tests only every two weeks, so he's paying $120 out of his own pocket for the other weeks.
"We understand, it definitely takes a toll on people," said Lloyd Phillips, public safety commissioner at the Mohawk Council of Kahnawake and a member of the task force.
"We're trying to be as fair as we can but also keeping in mind that the whole health of our community is the priority."
As a part of the task force's current mass vaccination campaign in Kahnawake, Phillips said a special clinic was organized on March 28 for cross-border workers and students. Both White and Gilbert were among those to receive their first dose of vaccine.
Gilbert said that's been a huge relief. Although his current schooling schedule means he'll be home less often, he was able to kiss his girlfriend for the first time since July.
"We looked at each other and we were like, we don't know if we still know how to do this, and she jumped on me and gave me a big kiss. It was amazing," he said.
"It feels like there's a light at the end of the tunnel knowing that I can come home as long as I keep testing negative. That's key. We can be together, that's the best part. The second thing is getting vaccinated so that we don't have to worry about this for much longer."
Gilbert has had a similar experience. Over the fall and winter, he isolated from his girlfriend when home by camping in their backyard or staying at hotels until it became too expensive to do so.
The extra precautions the couple took were for the safety of elders and the most vulnerable in the community.
"We were extra cautious because I see my parents a lot and they work with the elders, so we distance ourselves from each other in order to protect everyone around us," said his girlfriend Maylan Jacobs.
"It feels better that he's being tested regularly and it comes back negative, but there's always still that chance so it's kind of like I have to pick between seeing him and seeing my family which is a tough one to make."
The end of the tunnel
As of Feb. 21, new testing and quarantine requirements are required when entering Canada. Essential workers on infrastructure projects, such as ironworkers, are exempt.
However, the task force in Kahnawake remains cautious, giving ironworkers the OK to return to the community without having to isolate as long as they have had negative COVID-19 PCR test results in the last 72 hours.
White is getting tested every Wednesday before coming home on Friday evenings. His union pays for PCR tests only every two weeks, so he's paying $120 out of his own pocket for the other weeks.
"We understand, it definitely takes a toll on people," said Lloyd Phillips, public safety commissioner at the Mohawk Council of Kahnawake and a member of the task force.
"We're trying to be as fair as we can but also keeping in mind that the whole health of our community is the priority."
As a part of the task force's current mass vaccination campaign in Kahnawake, Phillips said a special clinic was organized on March 28 for cross-border workers and students. Both White and Gilbert were among those to receive their first dose of vaccine.
Gilbert said that's been a huge relief. Although his current schooling schedule means he'll be home less often, he was able to kiss his girlfriend for the first time since July.
"We looked at each other and we were like, we don't know if we still know how to do this, and she jumped on me and gave me a big kiss. It was amazing," he said.
"It feels like there's a light at the end of the tunnel knowing that I can come home as long as I keep testing negative. That's key. We can be together, that's the best part. The second thing is getting vaccinated so that we don't have to worry about this for much longer."
Watch: In the blink of an eye, Australian beach-goer lashed by 'the angriest octopus'
National Post Staff 2021-04-05
Most people who have watched the Netflix documentary ‘My Octopus Teacher’, would assume that octopuses are playful, curious creatures with an appetite for affection and human companionship.
https://www.instagram.com/lancekarlson/?utm_source=ig_embed
“I took that footage, it lashed out at me and I was quite surprised; and then it swam off into deeper water,” Karlson told CNN.
That wasn’t the end of his encounter with the invertebrate. Later, as he swam among a nearby ‘crab graveyard’, examining some crab shells, he felt another whip across his arm, followed a second on his neck and upper back.
The water around him, he said, turned murky with what looked like octopus ink, as he stumbled back to the safety of the shore. He believes he may have inadvertently come across its home and threatened the octopus.
Octopuses are known to squirt an ink-like dark pigment as a defence mechanism when they feel threatened. For the most part, octopus ink is harmless to humans but the lashes of their tentacles leave a stinging pain treatable with an acidic substance.
Karlson, a former lifeguard, said he normally treats the stings with vinegar. However, finding none in his hotel room, his family instead poured some Coca-Cola over him, which dissipated the pain.
“The pain went away and more than anything since then, it’s been more the physical hit that was painful… The imprint on my neck in those photos is more from the physical hit, and I guess it makes complete sense when you look at the video I took 20 minutes earlier of that lashing out,” he said.
The lashing marked Karlson’s first encounter with the cephalopod and motivated him to watch the popular Netflix documentary to learn more about the creatures.
“They are beautiful creatures and I really hope this provokes more interest in octopuses as opposed to fear of them. I think this is a fascinating creature with clearly some very strong emotions just like we do as humans,” he added.
National Post Staff 2021-04-05
Most people who have watched the Netflix documentary ‘My Octopus Teacher’, would assume that octopuses are playful, curious creatures with an appetite for affection and human companionship.
© Provided by National Post An angry octopus heads towards Lane Karlson before lashing out in a video that has since been viewed over 300,000 times.
But a viral video of an encounter between an Australian geologist and an aggressive octopus proves that the intelligent marine creatures are not to be messed with.
Lance Karlson, who filmed and posted the footage, called it the ‘angriest octopus on Geographe Bay’, Western Australia, in his caption.The clip, which has been viewed more than 300,000 times on Instagram, shows an octopus swimming toward the camera in shallow water, eyes narrowed. In a blink of an eye, it whips out its tentacles before spreading them out back in the water.
He doesn’t know what he did to anger the octopus so much, he told CNN .
“I was confused — it was more of a shock than a fright,” he said.
Karlson met the octopus on March 18 while taking a walk on the beach with his two-year-old daughter in search of a spot to swim.
He noticed something attacking a seagull — a stingray, he presumed. But as he drew closer with his daughter, he realized it was an octopus and took out his phone to film it, just in time for the octopus to turn its wrath on him.
But a viral video of an encounter between an Australian geologist and an aggressive octopus proves that the intelligent marine creatures are not to be messed with.
Lance Karlson, who filmed and posted the footage, called it the ‘angriest octopus on Geographe Bay’, Western Australia, in his caption.The clip, which has been viewed more than 300,000 times on Instagram, shows an octopus swimming toward the camera in shallow water, eyes narrowed. In a blink of an eye, it whips out its tentacles before spreading them out back in the water.
He doesn’t know what he did to anger the octopus so much, he told CNN .
“I was confused — it was more of a shock than a fright,” he said.
Karlson met the octopus on March 18 while taking a walk on the beach with his two-year-old daughter in search of a spot to swim.
He noticed something attacking a seagull — a stingray, he presumed. But as he drew closer with his daughter, he realized it was an octopus and took out his phone to film it, just in time for the octopus to turn its wrath on him.
https://www.instagram.com/lancekarlson/?utm_source=ig_embed
“I took that footage, it lashed out at me and I was quite surprised; and then it swam off into deeper water,” Karlson told CNN.
That wasn’t the end of his encounter with the invertebrate. Later, as he swam among a nearby ‘crab graveyard’, examining some crab shells, he felt another whip across his arm, followed a second on his neck and upper back.
The water around him, he said, turned murky with what looked like octopus ink, as he stumbled back to the safety of the shore. He believes he may have inadvertently come across its home and threatened the octopus.
Octopuses are known to squirt an ink-like dark pigment as a defence mechanism when they feel threatened. For the most part, octopus ink is harmless to humans but the lashes of their tentacles leave a stinging pain treatable with an acidic substance.
Karlson, a former lifeguard, said he normally treats the stings with vinegar. However, finding none in his hotel room, his family instead poured some Coca-Cola over him, which dissipated the pain.
“The pain went away and more than anything since then, it’s been more the physical hit that was painful… The imprint on my neck in those photos is more from the physical hit, and I guess it makes complete sense when you look at the video I took 20 minutes earlier of that lashing out,” he said.
The lashing marked Karlson’s first encounter with the cephalopod and motivated him to watch the popular Netflix documentary to learn more about the creatures.
“They are beautiful creatures and I really hope this provokes more interest in octopuses as opposed to fear of them. I think this is a fascinating creature with clearly some very strong emotions just like we do as humans,” he added.
Indigenous women, transgender and
Two-Spirit people need support when leaving prison
We’re all aware of how the COVID-19 pandemic is affecting our health and wellness — but why isn’t more attention being paid to the relationship between COVID-19 and the criminal justice system, specifically how it’s impacting Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people
Doing nothing has consequences
One tragic example of the consequences of these systemic failures is the death of Kimberly Squirrel. On Jan. 23, 2021, Squirrel was found frozen to death in Saskatoon just three days after being released from a provincial correctional facility; no one in her family was notified of her release and her death was entirely preventable.
Indigenous transgender and Two-Spirit people have long experienced sexist, transphobic and racist discrimination at the hands of the Canadian prison system. The disproportionate social and economic impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic on transgender and Two-Spirit communities further highlights the importance of providing supports upon release.
It is only a matter of time before someone else is harmed — or even killed — as a direct result of the provincial government’s inefficiency and disregard for implementing appropriate measures for the safe release of Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people.
Enough is enough
The urgency of these issues is further underscored by COVID-19 and its disproportionate impact on Indigenous communities. Without re-entry plans, adequate safety measures and communication in place, individuals are released into precarious circumstances. Without access to accommodation or transportation, they may be unable to safely self-isolate to prevent the spread of the virus.
In an open letter to the Ministry of the Solicitor General, we — as part of a collective of community members, Elders, Healers, front-line workers, researchers, educators and students who advocate for the rights of Indigenous Peoples in the Canadian criminal justice system — have called upon the Ontario government to:
Develop and release re-entry plans for all inmates, including provisions for adequate financial and transitional supports.
Publicly release current policies and measures in place for the safe release of all — including Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people.
Publicly release COVID-19 safety measures for individuals prior to and upon release from correctional institutions.
Against the advice of public health experts and advocates, Ontario continues to incarcerate people at an alarming rate. Provincial and federal governments must be held accountable for the harms that their inaction and blatant maleficence has caused.
Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people deserve to be treated with respect — both inside and outside of prison.
We offer our most sincere condolences to the family and friends of Kimberly Squirrel.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Tenzin Butsang, PhD Student, Dalla Lana School of Public Health, University of Toronto and Karen Lawford, Assistant Professor, Department of Gender Studies, Queen's University, Ontario
We’re all aware of how the COVID-19 pandemic is affecting our health and wellness — but why isn’t more attention being paid to the relationship between COVID-19 and the criminal justice system, specifically how it’s impacting Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people
.
© CP PHOTO/Thomas Porter A teepee outside the women's unit of the Saskatchewan Penitentiary in Prince Albert, Sask., Jan., 2001.
The start of the pandemic came with the release of more than 2,300 people from jails across Ontario. Since then, numerous front-line workers and community organizations have called upon the Ontario government to ensure that the people being released have co-ordinated plans and supports in place.
Unfortunately, the government continues to neglect those calls, inadvertently placing all released inmates at risk of COVID-19 infection, exploitation and even death.
Kevin Walby, an associate professor of criminal justice at the University of Winnipeg, said it’s like the provincial government just “gave up” when it comes to protecting the health of inmates and the broader population.
A failure to follow through
We have witnessed how the Ontario government has failed to follow through on their promises to end violence against Indigenous people.
As a doctoral student who has volunteered with women and youth in and out of prisons, and an Anishinaabe midwife and assistant professor, we have heard first-hand how dire this crisis is. Staff at Thunder Woman Healing Lodge Society have told us that they’ve waited more than eight hours for women scheduled to be released from the Vanier Centre for Women in Milton, Ont., and that some were released as late as 10:30 p.m. with no access to transportation or accommodation.
The 2019 National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) highlighted how Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQQIA people leaving prison can become entrapped in a cycle of incarceration. They are often victimized by traffickers who use the prison system to target, lure and exploit those who don’t have access to housing or transportation.
Despite the province’s 2020 commitment to respond to the national inquiry’s Calls for Justice, it continues to release Indigenous women into precarious situations without resources for a safe passage to their families or communities.
To release anyone, particularly Indigenous women, transgender, and Two-Spirit individuals this way is irresponsible, dangerous and does not demonstrate a commitment to reconciliation.
The start of the pandemic came with the release of more than 2,300 people from jails across Ontario. Since then, numerous front-line workers and community organizations have called upon the Ontario government to ensure that the people being released have co-ordinated plans and supports in place.
Unfortunately, the government continues to neglect those calls, inadvertently placing all released inmates at risk of COVID-19 infection, exploitation and even death.
Kevin Walby, an associate professor of criminal justice at the University of Winnipeg, said it’s like the provincial government just “gave up” when it comes to protecting the health of inmates and the broader population.
A failure to follow through
We have witnessed how the Ontario government has failed to follow through on their promises to end violence against Indigenous people.
As a doctoral student who has volunteered with women and youth in and out of prisons, and an Anishinaabe midwife and assistant professor, we have heard first-hand how dire this crisis is. Staff at Thunder Woman Healing Lodge Society have told us that they’ve waited more than eight hours for women scheduled to be released from the Vanier Centre for Women in Milton, Ont., and that some were released as late as 10:30 p.m. with no access to transportation or accommodation.
The 2019 National Inquiry into Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls (MMIWG) highlighted how Indigenous women, girls and 2SLGBTQQIA people leaving prison can become entrapped in a cycle of incarceration. They are often victimized by traffickers who use the prison system to target, lure and exploit those who don’t have access to housing or transportation.
Despite the province’s 2020 commitment to respond to the national inquiry’s Calls for Justice, it continues to release Indigenous women into precarious situations without resources for a safe passage to their families or communities.
To release anyone, particularly Indigenous women, transgender, and Two-Spirit individuals this way is irresponsible, dangerous and does not demonstrate a commitment to reconciliation.
Doing nothing has consequences
One tragic example of the consequences of these systemic failures is the death of Kimberly Squirrel. On Jan. 23, 2021, Squirrel was found frozen to death in Saskatoon just three days after being released from a provincial correctional facility; no one in her family was notified of her release and her death was entirely preventable.
Indigenous transgender and Two-Spirit people have long experienced sexist, transphobic and racist discrimination at the hands of the Canadian prison system. The disproportionate social and economic impacts of the COVID-19 pandemic on transgender and Two-Spirit communities further highlights the importance of providing supports upon release.
It is only a matter of time before someone else is harmed — or even killed — as a direct result of the provincial government’s inefficiency and disregard for implementing appropriate measures for the safe release of Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people.
Enough is enough
The urgency of these issues is further underscored by COVID-19 and its disproportionate impact on Indigenous communities. Without re-entry plans, adequate safety measures and communication in place, individuals are released into precarious circumstances. Without access to accommodation or transportation, they may be unable to safely self-isolate to prevent the spread of the virus.
In an open letter to the Ministry of the Solicitor General, we — as part of a collective of community members, Elders, Healers, front-line workers, researchers, educators and students who advocate for the rights of Indigenous Peoples in the Canadian criminal justice system — have called upon the Ontario government to:
Develop and release re-entry plans for all inmates, including provisions for adequate financial and transitional supports.
Publicly release current policies and measures in place for the safe release of all — including Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people.
Publicly release COVID-19 safety measures for individuals prior to and upon release from correctional institutions.
Against the advice of public health experts and advocates, Ontario continues to incarcerate people at an alarming rate. Provincial and federal governments must be held accountable for the harms that their inaction and blatant maleficence has caused.
Indigenous women, transgender and Two-Spirit people deserve to be treated with respect — both inside and outside of prison.
We offer our most sincere condolences to the family and friends of Kimberly Squirrel.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Tenzin Butsang, PhD Student, Dalla Lana School of Public Health, University of Toronto and Karen Lawford, Assistant Professor, Department of Gender Studies, Queen's University, Ontario
2021-04-05
Karen Lawford is affiliated with the National Aboriginal Council of Midwives.
Tenzin Butsang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic app
Karen Lawford is affiliated with the National Aboriginal Council of Midwives.
Tenzin Butsang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic app
HUMANIST CATHOLIC
RIP
RIP
Hans Kueng, dissident Catholic theologian, dies at 93
2021-04-06
BERLIN — Hans Kueng, a Roman Catholic theologian who was an early colleague and friend of the future Pope Benedict XVI but later fell foul of the Vatican for challenging church doctrine and became a vocal critic of the pontiff, has died. He was 93.
2021-04-06
BERLIN — Hans Kueng, a Roman Catholic theologian who was an early colleague and friend of the future Pope Benedict XVI but later fell foul of the Vatican for challenging church doctrine and became a vocal critic of the pontiff, has died. He was 93.
© Provided by The Canadian Press
Kueng died Tuesday at his home in Tuebingen, according to the Global Ethic Foundation, or Stiftung Weltethos in German, which he established in 1995.
Though forbidden by the Vatican to teach theology, Kueng was an influential voice for liberal Catholics and a prolific author, challenging Catholic doctrines on papal authority, birth control, divorce and other issues.
“He never evaded the important dispute over the right path to peace and understanding,” German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier said. “Hans Kueng is a lasting role model of a scholar, a brilliant thinker with a sharp mind who, at the same time, was an alert political observer and a committed fellow-citizen.”
Kueng’s career was lived in opposition to Benedict and his predecessor, Pope John Paul II, but in retirement Kueng was delighted by “the new reform-friendly atmosphere” inspired by the election of Pope Francis.
The career of the Swiss-born Kueng intertwined with that of Joseph Ratzinger, the future Benedict. Kueng, then a professor at the University of Tuebingen, urged the university’s theology department to hire the young Ratzinger in 1966.
The pair participated in the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s as “periti,” or advisers. Kueng later wrote that he and Ratzinger were known there as the “teenage theologians,” though they were then in their 30s.
Later, they took different paths.
Ratzinger left Tuebingen in 1969 after left-wing student upheavals rocked the campus, and his classes were at one point interrupted by sit-ins. Kueng was stripped of the right to teach Catholic theology at Tuebingen in 1979 after challenging Catholic doctrine — most significantly papal infallibility, which holds that the pope can never be mistaken when he makes “infallible” pronouncements.
Ratzinger, by then a cardinal, was the Vatican’s chief guardian of orthodoxy from 1981 to 2005. While Benedict was not at the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith at the time Kueng was disciplined, he was reportedly involved in the decision in his role as archbishop of Munich and Freising.
Ratzinger defended the Vatican’s treatment of Kueng, saying in his 1997 book “Salt of the Earth” that he respected the path Kueng had taken but that Kueng “should not then demand the church’s seal of approval.”
Kueng’s estrangement from the Vatican took place under Pope John Paul II, and the theologian sharply criticized the Polish-born pontiff’s approach to running the church — though he voiced admiration for the globe-trotting John Paul’s wider impact on the world stage.
“There is a blatant contradiction between the foreign policy of this pope and his domestic policy,” Kueng told The Associated Press on the 25th anniversary of John Paul’s papacy in 2003.
“I find it remarkable how the pope spoke out for human rights, freedom and democracy and especially against the war in Iraq, and also for the dialogue of religions,” he said. “But, on the other hand, he represses freedom in the Catholic Church, he supports the inquisition against reformist theologians and bishops. He holds intolerant positions on questions like birth control and abortion.”
Two years later, Kueng said of Benedict’s election that it was “an enormous disappointment for all those who hoped for a reformist and pastoral pope.”
Still, he said the new pope should be allowed 100 days to “learn.”
A reconciliation seemed possible in September 2005, a few months after Benedict’s election, when the pope granted Kueng an audience.
The Vatican said the two spent several hours together and had a friendly theological discussion — though they skirted the differences that divided Kueng and the church.
Kueng said they had previously met only once, in Bavaria in 1983, since he was stripped of his license to teach, and that was a “rather tense situation.”
But the 2005 meeting was “a very significant event” and a step forward after he spent 25 years asking to see John Paul, he said — “now I got the impression that he was the same person I knew from the happy Tuebingen years.”
However much that meeting may have mended personal fences, Kueng became a vocal public critic of Benedict’s traditionalist papacy over the following years.
In 2010, as the church in the pope’s German homeland and elsewhere reeled from revelations of decades of sexual abuse of children by clerics, Kueng wrote in an open letter to bishops that Benedict’s papacy was increasingly “one of missed opportunities and unused chances.”
The church, he said, was “in the deepest crisis of confidence since the Reformation.” He faulted the pope, among other things, for failing to reach out more to Protestants and achieve a “lasting understanding” with Jews; stirring mistrust among Muslims with a 2006 speech; failing to help people in Africa combat AIDS by allowing the use of condoms; and failing to push forward the reforms of the Second Vatican Council.
Kueng was irked by Benedict’s decision to lift, “without preconditions,” the excommunication of four bishops consecrated without papal consent by the traditionalist Society of St. Pius X — one of them a Holocaust denier whose rehabilitation sparked outrage among Jews and Catholics alike.
Kueng said that efforts to cover up sexual abuse were steered by Ratzinger’s Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, and he regretted that the pope hadn’t delivered a “personal mea culpa.” And he called on bishops to demand change: “Don’t send messages of devotion to Rome, but demands for reform!”
Kueng was born on March 19, 1928 in Sursee, central Switzerland. After graduating from high school in Lucerne, he studied philosophy and theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.
He was consecrated as a priest in 1954 and later continued his studies in Paris, at the Sorbonne and the Institut Catholique, where he gained his doctorate with a dissertation on the doctrine of justification — the subject of a long dispute between Catholics and Protestants over how people achieve salvation.
Kueng worked as a priest in Lucerne in the late 1950s, before moving to the theology faculty of Germany’s University of Muenster and later to Tuebingen. He remained in Tuebingen for the rest of his life.
Geir Moulson, The Associated Press
Kueng died Tuesday at his home in Tuebingen, according to the Global Ethic Foundation, or Stiftung Weltethos in German, which he established in 1995.
Though forbidden by the Vatican to teach theology, Kueng was an influential voice for liberal Catholics and a prolific author, challenging Catholic doctrines on papal authority, birth control, divorce and other issues.
“He never evaded the important dispute over the right path to peace and understanding,” German President Frank-Walter Steinmeier said. “Hans Kueng is a lasting role model of a scholar, a brilliant thinker with a sharp mind who, at the same time, was an alert political observer and a committed fellow-citizen.”
Kueng’s career was lived in opposition to Benedict and his predecessor, Pope John Paul II, but in retirement Kueng was delighted by “the new reform-friendly atmosphere” inspired by the election of Pope Francis.
The career of the Swiss-born Kueng intertwined with that of Joseph Ratzinger, the future Benedict. Kueng, then a professor at the University of Tuebingen, urged the university’s theology department to hire the young Ratzinger in 1966.
The pair participated in the Second Vatican Council in the 1960s as “periti,” or advisers. Kueng later wrote that he and Ratzinger were known there as the “teenage theologians,” though they were then in their 30s.
Later, they took different paths.
Ratzinger left Tuebingen in 1969 after left-wing student upheavals rocked the campus, and his classes were at one point interrupted by sit-ins. Kueng was stripped of the right to teach Catholic theology at Tuebingen in 1979 after challenging Catholic doctrine — most significantly papal infallibility, which holds that the pope can never be mistaken when he makes “infallible” pronouncements.
Ratzinger, by then a cardinal, was the Vatican’s chief guardian of orthodoxy from 1981 to 2005. While Benedict was not at the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith at the time Kueng was disciplined, he was reportedly involved in the decision in his role as archbishop of Munich and Freising.
Ratzinger defended the Vatican’s treatment of Kueng, saying in his 1997 book “Salt of the Earth” that he respected the path Kueng had taken but that Kueng “should not then demand the church’s seal of approval.”
Kueng’s estrangement from the Vatican took place under Pope John Paul II, and the theologian sharply criticized the Polish-born pontiff’s approach to running the church — though he voiced admiration for the globe-trotting John Paul’s wider impact on the world stage.
“There is a blatant contradiction between the foreign policy of this pope and his domestic policy,” Kueng told The Associated Press on the 25th anniversary of John Paul’s papacy in 2003.
“I find it remarkable how the pope spoke out for human rights, freedom and democracy and especially against the war in Iraq, and also for the dialogue of religions,” he said. “But, on the other hand, he represses freedom in the Catholic Church, he supports the inquisition against reformist theologians and bishops. He holds intolerant positions on questions like birth control and abortion.”
Two years later, Kueng said of Benedict’s election that it was “an enormous disappointment for all those who hoped for a reformist and pastoral pope.”
Still, he said the new pope should be allowed 100 days to “learn.”
A reconciliation seemed possible in September 2005, a few months after Benedict’s election, when the pope granted Kueng an audience.
The Vatican said the two spent several hours together and had a friendly theological discussion — though they skirted the differences that divided Kueng and the church.
Kueng said they had previously met only once, in Bavaria in 1983, since he was stripped of his license to teach, and that was a “rather tense situation.”
But the 2005 meeting was “a very significant event” and a step forward after he spent 25 years asking to see John Paul, he said — “now I got the impression that he was the same person I knew from the happy Tuebingen years.”
However much that meeting may have mended personal fences, Kueng became a vocal public critic of Benedict’s traditionalist papacy over the following years.
In 2010, as the church in the pope’s German homeland and elsewhere reeled from revelations of decades of sexual abuse of children by clerics, Kueng wrote in an open letter to bishops that Benedict’s papacy was increasingly “one of missed opportunities and unused chances.”
The church, he said, was “in the deepest crisis of confidence since the Reformation.” He faulted the pope, among other things, for failing to reach out more to Protestants and achieve a “lasting understanding” with Jews; stirring mistrust among Muslims with a 2006 speech; failing to help people in Africa combat AIDS by allowing the use of condoms; and failing to push forward the reforms of the Second Vatican Council.
Kueng was irked by Benedict’s decision to lift, “without preconditions,” the excommunication of four bishops consecrated without papal consent by the traditionalist Society of St. Pius X — one of them a Holocaust denier whose rehabilitation sparked outrage among Jews and Catholics alike.
Kueng said that efforts to cover up sexual abuse were steered by Ratzinger’s Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, and he regretted that the pope hadn’t delivered a “personal mea culpa.” And he called on bishops to demand change: “Don’t send messages of devotion to Rome, but demands for reform!”
Kueng was born on March 19, 1928 in Sursee, central Switzerland. After graduating from high school in Lucerne, he studied philosophy and theology at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.
He was consecrated as a priest in 1954 and later continued his studies in Paris, at the Sorbonne and the Institut Catholique, where he gained his doctorate with a dissertation on the doctrine of justification — the subject of a long dispute between Catholics and Protestants over how people achieve salvation.
Kueng worked as a priest in Lucerne in the late 1950s, before moving to the theology faculty of Germany’s University of Muenster and later to Tuebingen. He remained in Tuebingen for the rest of his life.
Geir Moulson, The Associated Press
QANON FOLLOWER?
Additional arson charges laid against suspect in Masonic hall fires
2021-04-06
VANCOUVER — Police say five more charges have been approved against a man accused of setting fire to three Masonic halls in Metro Vancouver last week.
Additional arson charges laid against suspect in Masonic hall fires
2021-04-06
VANCOUVER — Police say five more charges have been approved against a man accused of setting fire to three Masonic halls in Metro Vancouver last week.
© Provided by The Canadian Press
Police say 42-year-old Benjamin Kohlman was charged Tuesday with two counts of arson and three counts of break and enter to commit arson after fires in Vancouver and North Vancouver.
Police arrested Kohlman in nearby Burnaby within a few hours of the fires.
He was charged the following day with one count of arson in relation to the fire in Vancouver, as well as one count of assaulting a police officer.
All three fires were allegedly set in the span of an hour last Tuesday.
The first call came in at around 6:45 a.m. about a fire at the Lynn Valley Lodge in North Vancouver, while a second fire reported minutes later severely damaged a Masonic centre located four kilometres away.
Fire officials said the third fire at a Masonic hall in east Vancouver was reported around 7:30 a.m. and caused little damage.
This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 6, 2021.
The Canadian Press
Police say 42-year-old Benjamin Kohlman was charged Tuesday with two counts of arson and three counts of break and enter to commit arson after fires in Vancouver and North Vancouver.
Police arrested Kohlman in nearby Burnaby within a few hours of the fires.
He was charged the following day with one count of arson in relation to the fire in Vancouver, as well as one count of assaulting a police officer.
All three fires were allegedly set in the span of an hour last Tuesday.
The first call came in at around 6:45 a.m. about a fire at the Lynn Valley Lodge in North Vancouver, while a second fire reported minutes later severely damaged a Masonic centre located four kilometres away.
Fire officials said the third fire at a Masonic hall in east Vancouver was reported around 7:30 a.m. and caused little damage.
This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 6, 2021.
The Canadian Press
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