Thursday, November 04, 2021

END SANCTIONS AGAINST IRAN
A public suicide in Iran spotlights anguish over economy
By NASSER KARIMI

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A street vendor waits for customer while selling shoes on the side of a highway in southwestern Tehran, Iran, Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2021. As U.S. sanctions and the coronavirus pandemic wreak havoc on Iran's economy, suicides in the country increased by over 4%, according to a government study cited by the reformist daily Etemad. About 1 million Iranians have lost their jobs, and unemployment has climbed over 10% — a rate that is nearly twice as big among youths. (AP Photo/Vahid Salemi)


TEHRAN, Iran (AP) — Ruhollah Parazideh, a wiry 38-year-old with a thick mustache and hair flecked with gray, was desperate for a job. The father of three in southern Iran walked into a local office of a foundation that helps war veterans and their families, pleading for assistance.

Local media reported that Parazideh told officials he would throw himself off their roof if they couldn’t help. They tried to reason with him, promising a meager loan, but he left unsatisfied.

He soon returned to the gates of the building, poured gasoline over himself, and put a lit match to his neck. He died from his burns two days later, on Oct. 21.

Parazideh’s suicide in the city of Yasuj shocked many in Iran, and not just because he was the son of Golmohammad Parazideh, a prominent provincial hero of the country’s 1980-88 war with Iraq that left hundreds of thousands dead.

It put a spotlight on the rising public fury and frustration as Iran’s economy sinks, unemployment soars and the price of food skyrockets.




His death occurred outside the local office of the Foundation for Martyrs and War-Disabled People, a wealthy and powerful government agency that helps the families of those killed and wounded in Iran’s 1979 Islamic Revolution and subsequent wars.

“I was shocked when I heard the news,” said Mina Ahmadi, a student at Beheshti University north of Tehran. “I thought that the families of (war) victims enjoyed generous support from the government.”

Iran valorizes its war dead from the conflict with Iraq, known in Tehran as the “Sacred Defense,” and the foundation plays a big role in that. After the revolution installed the clerically run system, the foundation began providing pensions, loans, housing, education and even some high-ranking government jobs.

Following Parazideh’s suicide, the foundation fired two of its top provincial officials and demanded the dismissal of the governor’s veteran affairs adviser as well as a social worker, lambasting their failure to send the distressed man to a medical facility or others for help, local media reported.

The fallout reached the highest levels of government. Ayatollah Sharfeddin Malakhosseini, an adviser to Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, called the case a warning that officials should “get rid of unemployment, poverty and the disruption of social ties.”

In 2014, parliament launched an investigation into one of the main banks affiliated with the foundation for allegedly embezzling $5 million. Its findings were never revealed.

The foundation is known to funnel financial support to Islamic militant organizations in the region, from Hezbollah in Lebanon to Hamas in Gaza, leading the U.S. to sanction it in 2007 for supporting terrorism.

Parazideh’s suicide was one of several in recent years that appear driven by economic hardships.

Self-immolations killed at least two other veterans and injured the wife of a disabled veteran outside branches of the foundation in Tehran, Kermanshah and Qom in recent years.

As the coronavirus pandemic wreaked economic havoc, suicides in Iran increased by over 4%, according to a government study cited by the reformist daily Etemad.


For many in the Middle East, the act of self-immolation — the protest used by a fruit vendor named Mohammed Bouazizi in Tunisia that became a catalyst for the 2011 Arab Spring uprisings — evokes broader discontent with economic woes and the lack of opportunity.

“I don’t know where we are headed because of poverty,” said Reza Hashemi, a literature teacher at a Tehran high school.

In 2018, then-President Donald Trump withdrew America from Tehran’s landmark nuclear agreement with world powers and brought back sanctions on Iran, pummeling an oil-dependent economy already hobbled by inefficiencies. The pandemic has aggravated the economic despair. About 1 million Iranians have lost their jobs, and unemployment has climbed over 10% — a rate that is nearly twice as big among youths.

Capital flight has soared to $30 billion, chasing away foreign investors.

Negotiations to revive the atomic accord stalled in the five months since hard-line President Ebrahim Raisi took office, allowing Tehran to press ahead with its nuclear program. On Wednesday, the European Union announced that talks between world powers and Iran on reviving the deal would resume Nov. 29 in Vienna. The announcement stoked modest hopes that the Biden administration can resuscitate the accord.

“It’s impossible to hide people’s discontent with the economy,” said Mohammad Qassim Osmani, an official at the Audit Organization Services, a government watchdog. “The structure of the country is faulty and sick. We need an economic revolution.”

Iran’s currency, the rial, has shriveled to less than 50% of its value since 2018. Wages haven’t grown to make up the loss, and the Labor Ministry reported that over a third of the population lives in extreme poverty.

“About 40 million people in the country need immediate and instant help,” said lawmaker Hamid Reza Hajbabaei, the head of the parliamentary budget committee, in a televised debate last week — referring to nearly half the population.

The deepening poverty goes beyond just numbers, becoming a visible part of daily life. On Tehran’s streets, more people are seen searching through garbage for something able to be sold. Children sell trinkets and tissues. Panhandlers beg for change at most intersections — a rare sight a decade ago.

Petty theft has surged, testing the already-tough justice system. Last week, a Tehran court sentenced a 45-year-old father of three to 10 months in prison and 40 lashes for pocketing a few packs of peanuts.

Gen. Ali Reza Lotfi, Tehran’s chief police detective, blamed the economy for the spike in crime, noting that over half of all detainees last year were first-time offenders.

It has fallen to Raisi to handle the economic pressures. He frequently repeats campaign promises to create 1 million jobs through construction and tourism projects.

But many low-wage workers, bearing the brunt of Iran’s crisis, have no hope.

Last month, in another case that drew huge attention, a 32-year-old teacher facing crushing debt hanged himself in the southern city of Guerash after a bank rejecting his request for a $200 loan.

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Associated Press writer Isabel DeBre in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, contributed to this report.


Globe bounces back to nearly 2019 carbon pollution levels
By SETH BORENSTEIN

 Smoke and steam rise from towers at the coal-fired Urumqi Thermal Power Plant in Urumqi in western China's Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region on April 21, 2021. Global carbon pollution this year has bounced back to almost 2019 levels, after a drop during pandemic lockdowns. A new study by climate scientists at Global Carbon Project finds that the world is on track to put 36.4 billion metric tons of invisible carbon dioxide. (AP Photo/Mark Schiefelbein, File)


GLASGOW, Scotland (AP) — The dramatic drop in carbon dioxide emissions from the pandemic lockdown has pretty much disappeared in a puff of coal-fired smoke, much of it from China, a new scientific study found.

A group of scientists who track heat-trapping gases that cause climate change said the first nine months of this year put emissions a tad under 2019 levels. They estimate that in 2021 the world will have spewed 36.4 billion metric tons of carbon dioxide, compared to 36.7 billion metric tons two years ago.

At the height of the pandemic last year, emissions were down to 34.8 billion metric tons, so this year’s jump is 4.9%, according to updated calculations by Global Carbon Project.

While most countries went back to pre-pandemic trends, China’s pollution increase was mostly responsible for worldwide figures bouncing back to 2019 levels rather then dropping significantly below them, said study co-author Corinne LeQuere, a climate scientist at the University of East Anglia in the United Kingdom.

With 2020′s dramatically clean air in cities from India to Italy, some people may have hoped the world was on the right track in reducing carbon pollution, but scientists said that wasn’t the case.

“It’s not the pandemic that will make us turn the corner,” LeQuere said in an interview at the climate talks in Glasgow, where she and colleagues are presenting their results. “It’s the decisions that are being taken this week and next week. That’s what’s going to make us turn the corner. The pandemic is not changing the nature of our economy.”

If the world is going to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees Celsius (2.7 degrees Fahrenheit) since pre-industrial times, it has only 11 years left at current emission levels before it is too late, the paper said. The world has warmed 1.1 degrees Celsius (2 degrees Fahrenheit) since the late 1800s.

“What the carbon emissions numbers show is that emissions (correcting for the drop and recovery from COVID19) have basically flattened now. That’s the good news,” said Pennsylvania State University climate scientist Michael Mann, who wasn’t part of the report. “The bad news is that’s not enough. We need to start bringing (emissions) down.”

Emissions in China were 7% higher in 2021 when compared to 2019, the study said. By comparison, India’s emissions were only 3% higher. In contrast, the United States, the European Union and the rest of the world polluted less this year than in 2019.

LeQuere said China’s jump was mostly from burning coal and natural gas and was part of a massive economic stimulus to recover from the lockdown. In addition, she said, China’s lockdown ended far earlier than the rest of the world, so the country had longer to recover economically and pump more carbon into the air.

The “green recovery” that many nations have talked about in their stimulus packages take longer to show up in emission reductions because rebounding economies first use the energy mix they already had, LeQuere said.

The figures are based on data from governments on power use, travel, industrial output and other factors. Emissions this year averaged 115 metric tons of carbon dioxide going into the air every second.

Breakthrough Institute climate director Zeke Hausfather, who wasn’t part of the study, predicts that “there is a good chance that 2022 will set a new record for global CO2 emissions from fossil fuels.”
For more AP climate coverage: https://apnews.com/hub/climate.

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Follow Seth Borenstein on Twitter: @ borenbears.

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The Associated Press Health and Science Department receives support from the Howard Hughes Medical Institute’s Department of Science Education. The AP is solely responsible for all content.



AP PHOTOS: A slow motion burial awaits in volcano no-go zone

The Associated Press
Ash from a volcano, that continues to erupt, covers a house on the Canary island of La Palma, Spain, Monday, Nov. 1, 2021. Scientists estimate the volcano also has ejected over 10,000 million cubic meters of ash. The ash is jettisoned thousands of meters into the sky, but the heaviest, thickest particles eventually give way to gravity. They accumulate into banks that slowly cover doors, pour into windows, make rooftops sag. Some particles are so big that when they pummel a car roof or the fronds of a banana tree, it sounds like hail. (AP Photo/Emilio Morenatti)

By EMILIO MORENATTI and JOSEPH WILSON
November 4, 2021 GMT

CUMBRE VIEJA EXCLUSION ZONE, Canary Islands (AP) — A child’s swing. A fountain in a courtyard. A tray of glasses abandoned under the duress of escape. All will disappear as a blizzard of dark ash blows from a volcano on La Palma island and drifts to the ground inch by inch, foot by foot.

Inside the exclusion zone, there is destruction by lava as well as burial in a sepulcher of black snow. A living room furnished with a hammock sits empty in the final hours before an implacable tongue of molten rock crushes an entire house.

Whether the end comes from lava or from ash, homes and fields located below the Cumbre Vieja volcano face annihilation in slow motion.

Since the eruption started on Sept. 19, authorities have declared more than 20,000 acres (8,200 hectares) between the Cumbre Vieja volcano and the Atlantic Ocean off-limits. Only police, soldiers, and scientists are allowed to move freely in the exclusion zone, which cuts La Palma’s western shore in two.

The lush land previously approximated an earthly paradise for both residents and visitors. Spaniards and other Europeans spent vacations or retired here to be near the sea, while locals harvested banana trees in the semitropical warmth of Spain’s Canary Islands.

Now, evacuated residents line up in cars and trucks on the zone’s edge, awaiting permission to make escorted trips home to rescue their dearest possessions, or at least see their endangered properties.

Human time and geological time were brought into sync by the volcano. What once seemed a given — the land beneath people’s feet — becomes as fluid and unpredictable as the lives the eruption threw into tumult. The creep of the lava, the buildup of ash, are matched by the growing anguish of the men and women whose way of life is being erased.

Silence would reign in the exclusion zone if it weren’t for what residents have named “the beast.” The volcano’s constant roar makes conversation almost impossible, nearly drowns out both the barking of abandoned dogs and the murmur of a flock of pigeons circling the sky in search of a coop that no longer exists.

Another sound: families weeping as they are accompanied by police to witness their homes as they succumb. Lava flows have destroyed more than 1,000 houses in their paths.

The ash is jettisoned thousands of meters into the sky, but the heaviest, thickest particles eventually give way to gravity. They accumulate into banks that slowly cover doors, pour into windows, make rooftops sag. Some particles are so big that when they pummel a car roof or the fronds of a banana tree, it sounds like hail.

Entire houses, right up the chimney, whole forests, right up to the canopy, the ash erases the distinguishing features of the landscape.

“I can’t even recognize my home,” Cristina Vera said while weeping. “I can’t recognize anything around it. I don’t recognize my neighbors’ homes, not even the mountain. It has all changed so much that I don’t know where I am.”

The quick relocation of more than 7,000 people has prevented the loss of human life. At cemeteries, though, the occupants go through a second burial by ash, a burial that will wipe away the markers that note the place where they were put to rest.



Yet amid the apocalypse, there are moments for the sublime to emerge. The colors that remain gain in their brilliance against the new ebony backdrop.

A small shrub, shaken clean, becomes a luminous green globe, a sponge pulled from a coral reef, an orb from an alien world.
Dozens of nations agree at COP26 to end use of coal power by 2040s

Developed nations agreed to end their support for coal in the 2030s, and developing signatories in the 2040s. 
File Photo by Kevin Dietsch/UPI | License Photo


Nov. 4 (UPI) -- More than 40 countries agreed Thursday at the United Nations Climate Change Conference in Scotland to stop investing in the production of coal power over the next two decades -- but some of the most coal-using nations, like China and the United States, did not.

Dozens of nations including Britain, Canada, Indonesia, Poland, South Korea, Ukraine and Vietnam were part of the pact at the conference, known as COP26.

The countries agreed to halt domestic and international investments in the production of coal. Developed nations agreed to end their support in the 2030s, and developing signatories in the 2040s.

"Today's commitments, brought together through UK-led efforts including the new 'Global Coal to Clean Power Transition Statement,' encompass developed and developing countries, major coal users and climate-vulnerable countries," the British government, which is hosting the conference in Glasgow, said in a statement.

"This includes 18 countries committing for the first time to phase out and not build or invest in new coal power, including Poland, Vietnam, and Chile, marking a milestone moment at COP26 in the global clean energy transition."

Some climate experts have said developed countries should phase out coal sooner, during the 2020s, to keep pace with a goal of limiting global temperatures just 1.5 Celsius above preindustrial levels.

"This is not a game-changer," Elif Gundüzyeli, senior coal policy coordinator at the campaign group Climate Action Network Europe, told The Guardian. "A 2030 phase-out deadline should be a minimum, and this agreement doesn't have that.

"No one wants to put money in coal anymore."

Kwasi Kwarteng, British business and energy secretary, said the plan gives countries a starting point to end coal use.

"Today marks a milestone moment in our global efforts to tackle climate change as nations from all corners of the world unite in Glasgow to declare that coal has no part to play in our future power generation," Kwarteng said in a statement.

"Spearheaded by the U.K.'s COP26 presidency, today's ambitious commitments made by our international partners demonstrate that the end of coal is in sight. The world is moving in the right direction, standing ready to seal coal's fate and embrace the environmental and economic benefits of building a future that is powered by clean energy."

A wake-up call to climate crisis: Madagascar's environment minister talks to FRANCE 24


Issued on: 04/11/2021 - 

Video by: FRANCE 24

Battered by drought, floods and famine they had little part in creating, vulnerable African nations are seeking billions of dollars at COP26 to boost their defences against climate change. The drought-stricken island nation of Madagascar is a ’wake up call' to what the world can expect in coming years due to climate change. The island is struggling with exceptionally warm temperatures, drought and sandstorms. Madagascar Minister of Environment, Baomiavotse Vahinala Raharinirina, talked to FRANCE 24 from Glasgow, United Kingdom.


Countries pledge to cut heavily polluting coal, with caveats

By FRANK JORDANS and SETH BORENSTEIN



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FILE - Clouds of vapor over Europe's largest lignite power plant in Belchatow, central Poland, on Wednesday, Nov. 28, 2018. (AP Photo/Czarek Sokolowski, File)

GLASGOW, Scotland (AP) — In the fight to curb climate change, several major coal-using nations announced steps Thursday to wean themselves — at times slowly — off of the heavily polluting fossil fuel.

The pledges to phase out coal come on top of other promises made at the U.N. climate summit in Glasgow, Scotland, that the head of an international energy organization said trimmed several tenths of a degree from projections of future warming. But outside experts called that “optimistic.”

Optimism also abounded in relation to the promises on coal, which has the dirtiest carbon footprint of the major fuels and is a significant source of planet-warming emissions.

“Today, I think we can say that the end of coal is in sight,” said Alok Sharma, who is chairing the conference of nearly 200 nations, known as COP26.

Critics say that vision is still obscured by a lot of smoke because several major economies still have yet to set a date for ending their dependence on the fuel, including the United States, China, India and Japan — which was targeted outside the summit venue Thursday by protesters clad as animated characters.

What nations have promised varies. Some have pledged to quit coal completely at a future date, while others say they’ll stop building new plants, and even more, including China, are talking about just stopping the financing of new coal plants abroad.

The British government said pledges of new or earlier deadlines for ending coal use came from more than 20 countries including Ukraine, Vietnam, South Korea, Indonesia and Chile.

Some came with notable caveats, such as Indonesia’s request for additional aid before committing to bring its deadline forward to the 2040s.

Meanwhile, Poland, the second-biggest user of coal in Europe after Germany, appeared to backtrack on any ambitious new commitments within hours of the announcement.

“Energy security and the assurances of jobs is a priority for us,” Anna Moskwa, Poland’s minister for climate and environment, said in a tweet, citing the government’s existing plan which “provides for a departure from hard coal by 2049.” Earlier in the day, it had seemed that Poland might bring that deadline forward by at least a decade.

Campaigners reacted angrily to the apparent U-turn.

“Moskwa has underscored that her government cannot be trusted to sign a postcard, let alone a responsible climate pledge,” said Kathrin Gutmann, campaign director of the group Europe Beyond Coal.

Separately, more than two dozen countries, cities and companies joined the Powering Past Coal Alliance, whose members commit to ending coal use by 2030, for developed countries, and no later than 2050 for developing ones. Banks that are members pledge not to provide loans for the worst types of coal-fired power plants.

Meanwhile, the United States, Canada, Denmark and several other nations signed a different pledge to “prioritize” funding clean energy over fossil fuel projects abroad.

While not completely ruling out financial support for coal-fired power plants, the countries said they would refrain from any “new direct public support” for coal except in limited circumstances.

That move was seen as a significant step by environmental campaigners, who said that it could push international lenders to stop providing loans for new fossil fuel projects.

A U.S. official, speaking on condition of anonymity to discuss officials’ thinking, said that while the U.S. hadn’t opted to join the coal phase-out pledges, its commitment to a clean energy future was clear. The Biden administration wants to reach 100% carbon pollution-free electricity by 2035.

Underlining the urgent need for action on coal, a new analysis by scientists at Global Carbon Project found emissions from the fuel increased dramatically in 2021, not just from pandemic-struck 2020 levels, but even when compared to pre-pandemic 2019 levels. The world spewed 14.7 billion metric tons (16.2 billion tons) of carbon dioxide from coal burning, 5.7% more than last year, said the group, which tracks annual carbon pollution.

That was mostly spurred by a dramatic increase in China, which hit a new peak of coal emissions this year of 7.6 billion metric tons (8.4 billion tons) of carbon dioxide, more than half the globe’s coal emissions, the report said.

Still, experts said the announcement and others made so far at the summit showed the growing momentum to ditch coal.

“Today’s commitments will help to shift whole continents on their journey to phase out coal,” said Dave Jones of the energy think tank Ember.

Ukraine, the third-biggest coal consumer in Europe, is bringing forward its coal deadline, from 2050 to 2035.

Coal production in Ukraine has already dropped significantly over the past few years: From 40.9 million metric tons in 2016 to 28.8 million in 2020 (45 million tons to 32 million), according to the Energy Ministry.

The figures do not include production in the coal fields of separatist-controlled eastern Ukraine, which accounted for about half of Ukraine’s mines prior to the 2014 uprising.

“The progress on coal being shown at COP26 demonstrates that the conditions are ripe for a global coal exit,” said Leo Roberts, a senior researcher at the environmental think tank E3G.

“We now need to see the incoming massive scale-up in clean energy finance made available quickly to ensure all countries can confidently move from coal to clean,” he added.

But some environmental activists said the commitments didn’t go far enough.

“Emissions from oil and gas already far outstrip coal and are booming, while coal is already entering a terminal decline,” said Murray Worthy of the campaign group Global Witness. “This is a small step forwards when what was needed was a giant leap.”

The agreements on coal are not part of the formal negotiations at the U.N. talks in Glasgow. But British Prime Minister Boris Johnson, whose country is hosting the conference, had said he wanted to see deals on coal, cars, trees and cash.

Fatih Birol, head of the International Energy Agency, said Thursday that a new analysis by the Paris-based body shows that fully achieving all the emissions-reduction pledges made on previous days — including for the potent greenhouse gas methane — could allow the world to limit warning to 1.8 degrees Celsius (3.2 degrees Fahrenheit) above pre-industrial levels.

The goal that countries set at a previous conference in Paris is to limit temperature increases to 1.5C (2.7F). A United Nations analysis showed that before Glasgow the world was heading to a 2.7C (4.9F) increase while other analyses showed warming in the mid- to upper-2-degree range also.

Niklas Hohne, of the New Climate Institute and Climate Action Tracker, called Birol’s figure “optimistic” and noted it was based on countries achieving pledges to only emit what can be absorbed — so called net-zero plans — when they haven’t yet implemented any actions that would get them there.

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Associated Press writers Sylvia Hui in London and Ellen Knickmeyer in Glasgow, Scotland, contributed.

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Follow AP’s coverage of the climate conference at http://apnews.com/hub/climate.
Is it green, or forever toxic? Nuclear rift at climate talks

By ANGELA CHARLTON

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A worker sprays a layer of cement protection in a tunnel for radioactive waste in an underground laboratory run by Andra, an agency that manages the waste, in Bure, eastern France, Thursday, Oct. 28, 2021. Nuclear power is a central sticking point as negotiators plot out the world’s future energy strategy at the climate talks in Glasgow, Scotland. (AP Photo/Francois Mori)


SOULAINES-DHUYS, France (AP) — Deep in a French forest of oaks, birches and pines, a steady stream of trucks carries a silent reminder of nuclear energy’s often invisible cost: canisters of radioactive waste, heading into storage for the next 300 years.

As negotiators plot out how to fuel the world while also reducing carbon emissions at climate talks in Scotland, nuclear power is a central sticking point. Critics decry its mammoth price tag, the disproportionate damage caused by nuclear accidents, and radioactive leftovers that remain deadly for thousands of years.

But increasingly vocal and powerful proponents — some climate scientists and environmental experts among them — argue that nuclear power is the world’s best hope of keeping climate change under control, noting that it emits so few planet-damaging emissions and is safer on average than nearly any other energy source. Nuclear accidents are scary but exceedingly rare — while pollution from coal and other fossil fuels causes death and illness every day, scientists say.

Portraits of scientists Albert Einstein and Marie Curie decorate a concrete-sealed warehouse for radioactive waste storage in Soulaines-Dhuys, eastern France, Friday, Oct. 29, 2021. The site holds low- to mid-level radioactive waste from French nuclear plants as well as research and medical facilities, and its concrete-sealed warehouses are designed to store the waste for at least 300 years. 
(AP Photo/Francois Mori)

“The scale of what human civilization is trying to do over the next 30 years (to fight climate change) is staggering,” said Matt Bowen, of Columbia University’s Center for Global Energy Policy. “It will be much more daunting if we exclude new nuclear plants — or even more daunting if we decide to shut down nuclear plants all together.”

Many governments are pushing to enshrine nuclear energy in climate plans being hashed out at the conference in Glasgow, known as COP26. The European Union, meanwhile, is debating whether to label nuclear energy as officially “green” — a decision that will steer billions of euros of investment for years to come. That has implications worldwide, as the EU policy could set a standard that other economies follow.

But what about all that waste? Reactors worldwide produce thousands of tons of highly radioactive detritus per year, on top of what has already been left by decades of harnessing the atom to electrify homes and factories around the world.

Germany is leading the pack of countries, mainly within the EU, standing firmly against labeling nuclear as “green.” Meanwhile, the Biden administration supports nuclear power, China has a dozen reactors under construction — and even Japan is promoting nuclear energy again, 10 years after the disaster at its Fukushima power plant.

But nowhere in the world is as reliant on nuclear reactors as France, which is at the forefront of the pro-nuclear push at the European and global level. And it’s among leading players in the nuclear waste industry, recycling or reprocessing material from around the world.




FILE - A group of activists clash with riot police officers early Wednesday, Nov. 23, 2011, in Lieusaint, Normandy, France, as they try to block the train tracks in an effort to stop a train loaded with nuclear waste and heading to Gorleben in Germany. Nuclear power is a central sticking point as negotiators plot out the world’s future energy strategy at the climate talks in Glasgow, Scotland. Critics decry its mammoth price tag, the disproportionate damage caused by nuclear accidents and radioactive waste. But a growing pro-nuclear camp argues that it’s safer on average than nearly any other energy source.
 (AP Photo/David Vincent, File)

South of the World War I battlefields of Verdun, trucks bearing radioactivity warning stickers pull into a waste storage site near the village of Soulaines-Dhuys. They’re repeatedly checked, wiped and scanned for leaks. Their cargo — compacted waste stuffed into concrete or steel cylinders — is stacked by robotic cranes in warehouses that are then filled with gravel and sealed with more concrete.

The agency that manages the waste, Andra, knows its scares people. “I cannot fight against people’s fears. Our role is to guarantee the safety of people and the environment and the workers on the site,” said spokesperson Thierry Pochot.

The storage units hold 90% of France’s low- to medium-activity radioactive waste, including tools, clothing and other material linked to reactor operation and maintenance. The site is designed to last at least 300 years after the last shipment arrives, when the radioactivity of its contents is forecast to be no higher than levels found in nature.

For longer-life waste — mainly used nuclear fuel, which remains potentially deadly for tens of thousands of years — France is laying the groundwork for a permanent, deep-earth repository beneath corn and wheat fields outside the nearby stone-house hamlet of Bure.

Some 500 meters (yards) below the surface, workers carry out tests on the clay and granite, carve tunnels and seek to prove that the long-term storage plan is the safest solution for future generations. Similar sites are under development or study in other countries, too.

If the repository wins French regulatory approval, it would hold some 85,000 metric tons (94,000 tons) of the most radioactive waste produced “from the beginning of the nuclear era until the end of existing nuclear facilities,” said Audrey Guillemenet, geologist and spokesperson for the underground lab.

“We can’t leave this waste in storage sites on the surface,” where it is now, she said. “That is secure, but not sustainable.”


Audrey Guillemenet, geologist and spokesperson, shows a project for radioactive waste run by French radioactive waste management agency Andra, in Bure, eastern France, Thursday, Oct. 28, 2021. Nuclear power is a central sticking point as negotiators plot out the world’s future energy strategy at the climate talks in Glasgow, Scotland. (AP Photo/Francois Mori)

The 25 billion euro ($29 billion) cost of the proposed repository is already built into budgeting by French utilities, Guillemenet said. But that’s just one piece of the staggering cost of building and operating nuclear plants, and one of the reasons that opposition abounds.

All around Bure, street signs are replaced with graffiti reading “Nuclear is Over,” and activists camp out at the town’s main intersection.

Greenpeace accuses the French nuclear industry of fobbing off waste on other countries and covering up problems at nuclear facilities, which industry officials deny. Activists staged a protest last week in the port of Dunkirk, as reprocessed uranium was being loaded onto a ship for St. Petersburg, demanding an end to nuclear energy and more research into solutions for existing waste.

“Nuclear waste ... needs to be dealt with,” Bowen said. But “with fossil fuels, the waste is pumped into our atmosphere, which is threatening us from the risks of climate change and public health impacts from air pollution.”


Some prominent scientists now embrace nuclear. They argue that over the past half-century, nuclear power stations have avoided the emission of an estimated 60 billion tons of carbon dioxide by providing energy that otherwise would have come from fossil fuels.

U.S. climate envoy John Kerry says he’s changed his early career opposition to nuclear because of the greater necessity to cut emissions.

“People are beginning to understand the consequences of not going nuclear,” said Kerry Emanuel, professor of atmospheric science at MIT. Amid a “growing awareness of the rise of climate risks around the world, people are beginning to say, ‘that’s a bit more frightening than nuclear power plants.’”

Some activists want to end nuclear energy today, and others want to phase it out soon. But Emanuel noted examples of countries or states that shut nuclear plants before renewables were ready to take up the slack — and had to return to coal or other planet-choking energy sources.

The current energy crunch is giving nuclear advocates another argument. With oil and gas costs driving an energy price crisis across Europe and beyond, French President Emmanuel Macron has trumpeted “European renewables and, of course, European nuclear.”

The waste, meanwhile, isn’t going away.

To make radioactive garbage dumps less worrying to local residents, Andra organizes school visits; one site even hosts an escape game. Waste storage researchers are readying for all kinds of potential future threats — revolution, extreme weather, even the next Ice Age, Guillemenet said.

Whatever happens in Glasgow, “whether we decide to go on with the nuclear energy or not,” she said, “we will need to find a solution for the management of that nuclear waste” that humankind has already produced.

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Associated Press writers Frank Jordans and Ellen Knickmeyer in Glasgow, Scotland, contributed.

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Follow AP’s climate coverage at https://apnews.com/hub/climate.
#METOO WITH CHINESE CHARACTERISTICS
Tennis star accuses China ex-vice premier of sexual assault
By KEN MORITSUGU

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FILE - China's Shuai Peng plays a shot against Romania's Sorana Cirstea during their first round match of the French Open tennis tournament at the Roland Garros stadium, in Paris, France. Tuesday, May 30, 2017. Chinese authorities have squelched virtually all online discussion of sexual assault accusations apparently made by the Chinese professional tennis star against a former top government official, showing how sensitive the ruling Communist Party is to such charges. (AP Photo/Michel Euler, File)

BEIJING (AP) — Chinese authorities have squelched virtually all online discussion of sexual assault accusations apparently made by a Chinese professional tennis star against a former top government official, showing how sensitive the ruling Communist Party is to such charges.

In a lengthy social media post that disappeared quickly, Peng Shuai wrote that Zhang Gaoli, a former vice premier and member of the party’s all-powerful Politburo Standing Committee, had forced her to have sex despite repeated refusals following a round of tennis three years ago. Her post also said they had sex once seven years ago and she had feelings for him after that.

Peng is a former top-ranked doubles player, taking 23 tour-level doubles titles, including Grand Slams at Wimbledon in 2013 and the French Open in 2014.

The Associated Press could not verify the authenticity of her post, which was made late Tuesday night by her verified account on Weibo, a leading Chinese social media platform. The post was removed soon after, and a search on Weibo for Peng’s account now turns up no results. Neither she nor Zhang could be reached for comment.

The accusation is the first against a prominent government official since the #MeToo movement took hold in China in 2018 before being largely tamped down by authorities the same year. Earlier accusations were confined to the media, advocacy groups and academia.

The Communist Party’s response illustrates its determination to control public discourse and restrain social movements it can’t be sure of controlling. While social media has become ubiquitous in China, it remains firmly under party control.

Screenshots of the post have circulated on Twitter, which is blocked in China, reinvigorating discussion on that platform about gender relations in China, where men dominate the top levels in politics and business.

In the post, Peng, 35, wrote that Zhang, now 75, and his wife arranged to play tennis in Beijing about three years ago and that he later brought her into a room at his home where the assault occurred.

“I was so frightened that afternoon, never thinking that this thing could happen,” the post says.

Rumors and overseas reports about affairs between younger women and leading officials have long been staples of Chinese politics, starting with the founder of the People’s Republic, Mao Zedong.

Cases brought against present and former officials under party leader and President Xi Jinping’s decade-long anti-corruption campaign also frequently feature accusations of “lascivious lifestyles,” along with bribery and abusing their positions.

Zhang retired in 2018 and has largely disappeared from public life, as is usual with former Chinese officials.

Peng hasn’t played at the top tier since the Qatar Open in February 2020. In singles, she reached the semifinals of the 2014 U.S. Open and the Round of 16 at the subsequent Australian Open, but hasn’t progressed beyond the third round at any major since Wimbledon in 2017.

The Communist Party has increasingly cracked down on civil society, including the #MeToo movement that has struggled to gain traction in the country.

Zhou Xiaoxuan, a former intern at Chinese state broadcaster CCTV, was shoved by bystanders in September as she went to court in a case against a well-known presenter.

Since then, the movement has been largely shut down by authorities as activists found their online posts censored and faced pressure from authorities when trying to hold protests.

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Associated Press writer Huizhong Wu in Taipei, Taiwan, contributed to this report.
Afghan girls, faraway relatives worry over dreams disrupted

By MARIAM FAM and NOREEN NASIR

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Shola Yawari, left, and her teenage daughter Asma Yawari pose for photos at their home in Aurora, Ill., Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2021. Asma Yawari has built a close friendship with her younger cousin in Afghanistan through phone calls and text messages. Since the Taliban takeover, both Asma and her mother worry for their relative's future, amid uncertainty over her access to school and ability to pursue her interests and passions. (AP Photo/Nam Y. Huh)

From her home in Illinois, Asma Yawari has built a relationship with her younger cousin in Afghanistan that’s made the geographic distance between the two teenagers’ worlds seem, well, not quite so distant.

They never met but have bonded over phone calls and messages -- swapping family photos and language lessons, sharing hair routines and future dreams. But after the Taliban’s return to power, the cousins worry that the space between their worlds may grow in new ways. Already, some shared experiences, like going to school or dressing up, are fading, replaced by the fear that the cousin, and others like her in Afghanistan, may be left behind.

“We have similar goals and aspirations,” the 17-year-old Asma says. “The only difference is that I’m able to achieve those goals and aspirations.”

As a wary world watches to see the Taliban’s policies for women, many older girls in Afghanistan already face disrupted dreams, worried for their future, afraid of missing out on big career goals as well as little freedoms and hobbies that helped connect them to far-flung families. And perhaps none are more worried for them than the faraway women who could have been them - the sisters, the cousins, the friends.

The cousin, 13-year-old Bahara, tells Asma she’s upset that boys in her age range have been called back to school, but not girls above the sixth grade. And even if she’s allowed to return, she questions what dreams of hers may no longer have a place under the Taliban.

Her hope of one day becoming a fashion designer? “I’m just going to give up on that,” she says. “It’s very sad for me.”

Asma, who has helped organize protests in Chicago in support of Afghans scrambling to leave the country after the Taliban takeover, worries over the safety of her family in Afghanistan and the future of her female cousins.

“I always think that could have been me,” she says.

The status of Afghan women, at times used to help garner support for the U.S. war after the 9/11 attacks, has once again taken center stage after the recent rise of the Taliban who face international pressure to ensure women’s rights.

During their previous rule between 1996 and 2001, the group severely restricted women in the public sphere, largely confining them to their homes. That track record looms large even as they promise more rights and freedoms this time.

Throughout decades, Afghanistan has been used as grounds for competing powers to play out their proxy wars, and the status of Afghan women is often at the heart of it, says Nura Sediqe, lecturer at the Princeton School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton University.

Changes over the last two decades brought opportunity for the women in Sediqe’s family in Herat province “but then fatalities continued in more rural parts of Afghanistan, so I felt this guilt.”

Political Scientist Nura Sediqe, an Afghan American, poses on Princeton University's campus in Princeton, N.J., on Thursday, Sept. 16, 2021. Sediqe, an Afghan American woman, said Afghanistan has been used as grounds for competing powers to play out their proxy wars, and the status of women is often at the heart of it. “It always seems like we're a chess piece for people," she said. (AP Photo/Noreen Nasir)

That diversity of experiences of Afghan women is often overlooked, says Mejgan Massoumi, an Afghan American historian.

Some girls and women worked to seize the opportunity of going to school and getting a job; others faced social and economic burdens holding them back, she says.

In bigger cities, like Kabul, women may have more visibility and rights than in the many rural areas of the vast country.

Girls’ education has been a battlefield with uneven progress.

Even before the recent Taliban takeover, multiple barriers -- including cultural norms, familial disapproval, security fears, financial pressures, the long distance to some schools and shortages of female teachers -- have kept significantly more girls than boys out of school, especially when the girls reach adolescence, according to a 2019 UNICEF report.

Still, UNICEF Deputy Executive Director Omar Abdi told reporters that the number of children enrolled in schools increased from one million in 2001, when the Taliban were ousted from power, to almost 10 million, including 4 million girls. Despite this progress, 4.2 million children are out of school, including 2.6 million girls, he said.

“The education gains of the past two decades must be strengthened and not rolled back,” said Abdi, who added he urged the Taliban to let all girls resume learning.

Speaking in mid October, he said girls were allowed to attend secondary school in only five of Afghanistan’s provinces. Taliban’s education minister, Abdi said, told him they were working on “a framework which they will announce soon” that will allow all girls to go to secondary schools.

The Taliban have sought to portray themselves as more moderate than when they imposed their harsh interpretation of Islamic law during their earlier rule, but many Afghans are skeptical.

The Taliban is “taking their personal, unique interpretation of Islamic law and fusing it with their cultural understanding of women’s rights and women’s access to the public sphere,” says Ali A. Olomi, an assistant professor of Islamic and Middle East history at Penn State University, Abington, stressing that Islam strongly encourages education.



Masouma Tajik worries her younger sisters may not have access to the same opportunities that have allowed her to become a data analyst in Kabul.

The 22-year-old, career-minded Tajik graduated from the American University of Afghanistan, where she studied on a scholarship.

She recalls feeling scared shortly before the Taliban seized Kabul. “The first reason that I was afraid was my right to live as a woman,” she says. “I put so much time and effort on my career.”

After the Taliban takeover, Tajik left Afghanistan for Eastern Europe. She’s been applying for scholarships or refugee programs in different countries.

Her sisters stayed behind in Herat with the rest of the family.

One of her sisters’ answers became shorter when they talked: No, she doesn’t go to school (their youngest sister does). The sister, who used to tell Tajik that she wanted to join the army, didn’t complain but her voice betrayed her sadness, Tajik says. More recently, that sister started sharing that she has been going out, including to the park, and studying English at home.

Tajik has no idea how to help; her own life is in limbo.

“I’m just like giving hope for them,” Tajik says. “I have nothing, no plan in my hands for them. She understands this.”

Nazia, 30, is also missing a younger sister who is in Afghanistan. The two were separated two years ago, when Nazia moved to America and Hena remained in Kabul.

Hena is growing hopeless about what the future holds.

At times, Nazia, who didn’t want her last name used to protect the identity of relatives in Afghanistan, tries to cheer her up; at others, she joins her in crying.

Since she was a child, Hena has dreamed of becoming a doctor.

“Everything has been taken away from us,” she says, speaking on Zoom as Nazia translates. She helps her mom with chores at home and, sometimes, reads her textbooks, unsure whether or when she will be able to use them in a classroom again.

And Nazia feels helpless: “I can’t do anything for them.”

___

In Afghanistan, Bahara says she had been counting the days since boys beyond the sixth grade have been allowed back to school, but not the girls.

Before, time would fly by as she juggled going to her school and doing her homework with taking outside courses in English and her favorite hobby — sewing.

She scoured Instagram for fashion design inspiration; her family felt it would be inappropriate for her to post photos of herself, but she could browse. Her mother gave her a sewing machine and she made dresses for herself and her sisters.

Now, her world has shrunk. A close friend with whom she had planned a fashion design project left the country. The courses she used to take are no longer meeting. She tries to keep a low profile, wearing a loose, long black gown when she goes out and a tightly wrapped black headscarf that frames her face; she deleted from her phone cherished photos of herself wearing dresses she made.

A sister says she doesn’t want to return to school even if allowed back, worried about potential Taliban harassment, Bahara says; but not her.

“I miss my teachers, my books, my friends,” she says. “I wake up every day and when I see the clock, I think that that was the time that I should be in school.”

Bahara’s family is among the many who are hoping to leave the country for multiple reasons.

Talking or texting with her cousin Asma provides some relief.

Bahara holds onto the good memories, like her birthday party, shortly before Kabul fell to the Taliban. She didn’t have anything to wear. “In one night, I tailored a beautiful dress.”

In her new dress, surrounded by childhood girlfriends, she laughed, played games and blew out the candles.

“I think that was the last day for me that I was happy,” she says. “After that ... there is no day to spend without worries.”

Meanwhile, Asma recently attended her school’s homecoming, but hesitated before posting photos online of herself, dolled up in a sparkling baby blue dress and posing with friends. She didn’t want her cousin or other family to think she was flaunting her freedom.

“If I do go hang out with my friends, I feel guilty,” she says. “I just feel guilty, like, talking about it.”

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Associated Press writer Deepti Hajela contributed.

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Associated Press religion coverage receives support from the Lilly Endowment through The Conversation U.S. The AP is solely responsible for this content.


Radicalization’s path: In case studies, finding similarities

By HEATHER HOLLINGSWORTH, KATHY GANNON and ERIC TUCKER


Students of an Islamic seminary play with soccer ball in Peshawar, the capital of Pakistan's northwest Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province bordering Afghanistan, Sunday, Oct. 10, 2021. Wahab, the youngest son of four from a wealthy Pakistani family was rescued by his uncle, from a Taliban training camp on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan earlier this year. His uncle blamed his slide to radicalization on the neighborhood teens Wahab socialized with in their northwest Pakistan hometown, plus video games and Internet sites his friends introduced to him. (AP Photo/Muhammad Sajjad)


In the months before he was charged with storming the Capitol, Doug Jensen was sharing conspiracy theories he’d consumed online. But it hadn’t always been that way, says his brother, who recalls how he once posted the sort of family and vacation photos familiar to nearly all social media users.

A world away, Wahab hadn’t always spent his days immersed in jihadist teaching. The product of a wealthy Pakistani family and the youngest son of four, he was into cars and video games, had his own motorcycle, even studied in Japan.

No two ideologues are identical. No two groups are comprised of monolithic clones. No single light switch marks the shift to radicalism. The gulf between different kinds of extremists — in religious and political convictions, in desired world orders, in how deeply they embrace violence in the name of their cause — is as wide as it is obvious.

But to dwell only on the differences obscures the similarities, not only in how people absorb extremist ideology but also in how they feed off grievances and mobilize to action.

For any American who casts violent extremism as a foreign problem, the Jan. 6 Capitol siege held up an uncomfortable mirror that showed the same conditions for fantastical thinking and politically motivated violence as any society.

The Associated Press set out to examine the paths and mechanics of radicalization through case studies on two continents: a 20-year-old man rescued from a Taliban training camp on Afghanistan’s border, and an Iowa man whose brother watched him fall sway to nonsensical conspiracy theories and ultimately play a visible role in the mob of Donald Trump loyalists that stormed the Capitol.

Two places, two men, two very different stories as seen by two close relatives. But strip away the ideologies for a moment, says John Horgan, a researcher of violent extremism. Instead, look at the psychological processes, the pathways, the roots, the experiences.

“All of those things,” Horgan says, “tend to look far more similar than they are different.”

THE AMERICAN


FILE - In this Jan. 6, 2021 file photo, smoke fills the walkway outside the Senate Chamber as supporters of President Donald Trump, including Doug Jensen, are confronted by U.S. Capitol Police officers inside the Capitol in Washington. America met Jensen via a video that ricocheted across the Internet that turned an officer into a hero and laid bare the mob mentality inside the Capitol on Jan. 6. (AP Photo/Manuel Balce Ceneta, File)

America met Doug Jensen via a video that ricocheted across the Internet, turning an officer into a hero and laying bare the mob mentality inside the Capitol that day.

Jensen is the man in a dark stocking cap, a black “Trust the Plan” shirt over a hooded sweatshirt, front and center in a crowd of rioters chasing Eugene Goodman, a Capitol Police officer, up two flights of stairs. One prominent picture shows him standing feet from an officer, arms spread wide, mouth agape.

When it was all over, he’d tell the FBI that he was a “true believer” in QAnon, that he’d gone to Washington because Q and Trump had summoned “all patriots” and that he’d expected to see Vice President Mike Pence arrested. He’d say he pushed his way to the front of the crowd because he wanted “Q” to get the credit for what was about to happen.

He’d tell his brother the photos were staged, how the police had practically let him in through the front door (prosecutors say he climbed a wall and entered through a broken window) and that some officers even did selfies with the crowd.

William Routh of Clarksville, Arkansas, had an unsettled feeling about that day even before the riot and says he cautioned his younger brother. “I said, if you go down there and you’re going to do a peaceful thing, then that’s fine. But I said keep your head down and don’t be doing something stupid.”

In interviews with the AP days and months after his younger brother’s arrest, Routh painted Jensen — a 42-year-old Des Moines father of three who’d worked as a union mason laborer — as a man who enjoyed a pleasant if unextraordinary American existence. He says he took his family to places like the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone National Park, attended his children’s sporting events, worked to pay for a son’s college education, made anodyne Facebook posts.

“I have friends that I speak to constantly that have conspiracy theories,” Routh said, “but this was a shock to me more than anything, because I would not have thought this from my brother Doug, because he’s a very good, hardworking family man and he has good values.”

Exactly who Jensen is, and how much knowledge he had of the world around him, depends on who’s talking.

A Justice Department memo that argued for Jensen’s detention cites a criminal history and his eagerness to drive more than 1,000 miles to “hear President Trump declare martial law,” then to take it into his own hands when no proclamation happened. It notes that when the FBI questioned him, he said he’d gone to Washington because “Q,” the movement’s amorphous voice, had forecast that the “storm” had arrived.

His lawyer, Christopher Davis, countered in his own filing by essentially offering Jensen up as a dupe, a “victim of numerous conspiracy theories” and a committed family man whose initial devotion to QAnon “was its stated mission to eliminate pedophiles from society.”

Six months after the insurrection, the argument resonated with a judge who agreed to release Jensen on house arrest as his case moved forward. The judge, Timothy Kelly, cited a video in which Jensen referred to the Capitol building as the White House and said he didn’t believe Jensen could have planned an attack in advance “when he had no basic understanding of where he even was that day.”

FILE - This photo provided by Polk County (Iowa) Jail shows Doug Jensen. Authorities have arrested Jensen from Des Moines, Iowa, who allegedly took part in the riot at the U.S. Capitol building by supporters of President Donald Trump. America met Jensen via a video that ricocheted across the Internet that turned an officer into a hero and laid bare the mob mentality inside the Capitol on Jan. 6.
(Polk County (Iowa) Jail via AP)

Yet less than two months after he was released, Jensen was ordered back to jail for violating the conditions of his freedom. Though barred from accessing a cellphone, he watched a symposium sponsored by MyPillow CEO Mike Lindell that offered up false theories that the presidential election’s outcome was changed by Chinese hackers. A federal officer making the first unannounced visit to Jensen found him in his garage using an iPhone to watch news from Rumble, a streaming platform popular with conservatives.

Davis, who weeks earlier had asserted that his client “feels deceived, recognizing that he bought into a pack of lies,” likened his client’s behavior this time to an addiction. The judge was unmoved.

“It’s now clear that he has not experienced a transformation and that he continues to seek out those conspiracy theories that led to his dangerous conduct on Jan. 6,” Kelly said. “I don’t see any reason to believe that he has had the wake-up call that he needs.”

Precisely when and how Jensen came to absorb the conspiracies that led him to the Capitol is bewildering to Routh, who says he took Jensen under his wing during a challenging childhood that included stays in foster care and now feels compelled, as his oldest living relative, to speak on his behalf.

When Jensen was questioned by the FBI, according to an agent’s testimony, he said for the last couple of years he’d return home from an eight-hour workday and consume information from QAnon. In the four months before the riot, the brothers communicated about QAnon as Jensen shared videos and other conspiracy-laden messages that he purported to find meaning in but that Routh found suspect.

It was a period rife with baseless theories, advanced on the Internet and mainstream television, that an election conducted legitimately was somehow stolen in favor of Democrat Joe Biden. “It was just out there. It is on the internet everywhere,” Routh says.

Routh, who says he’s a Republican who supported Trump, maintains his brother and others like him were frightened by the prospect of a Biden victory. Before Jan. 6, Routh says, “We have been being told for the last — what? — seven, eight months that if the Democrats get control, we’re losing our country, OK? That scares a lot of people.”

He says he understands the anxiety of Trump supporters who fear the country may get more radical on the left. He has friends in oil fields and the pipeline industry who don’t know “if they’re going to be able to feed their families again.” As Routh criss-crossed the country as a truck driver, he says the idea Trump would lose re-election seemed unfathomable given that virtually everyone he met, everywhere he went, was pushing “Trump, Trump, Trump.”

When Routh looks at the photos of Jensen and the group he was with Jan. 6, he doesn’t see a determination to physically hurt anyone or vandalize the building. And despite the QAnon T-shirt, and despite the statement to the FBI that he was “all about a revolution,” Routh insists his brother was more a follower than a leader. Jensen is not among those charged with conspiracy or with being part of a militia group, and though prosecutors say he had a pocket knife with him, his lawyer says it was from work and he never took it out.


FILE - In this Jan. 6, 2021, file photo, Trump supporters, including Doug Jensen, center, confront U.S. Capitol Police in the hallway outside of the Senate chamber at the Capitol in Washington. America met Jensen via a video that ricocheted across the Internet that turned an officer into a hero and laid bare the mob mentality inside the Capitol on Jan. 6. (AP Photo/Manuel Balce Ceneta, File)

“He had a lot of influence from everybody else there,” Routh said this summer as he awaited a judge’s ruling on his brother’s bond motion. “And he has always been the kind of kid that says, ‘I can do that.’”

Two days after the riot, back home in Iowa, Jensen walked 6 miles (9.66 kilometers) to the Des Moines police department after seeing he was featured in videos of the chaos, an FBI agent would later testify. There, the FBI says, he made statements now at the center of the case, including admitting chasing Goodman up the stairs, that he yelled “Hit me. I’ll take it” as the officer raised a baton to move him back and that he profanely bellowed for the arrests of government leaders.

Though prosecutors suggest he had the presence of mind to delete potentially incriminating social media accounts from his phone, he also seemed uncertain — confused, even — during his encounter with law enforcement. As officials questioned him, according to an FBI agent’s testimony, he said words to the effect of, “Am I being duped?”

THE PAKISTANI


Renovation work is going on at the historical Mahabat Khan mosque, in Peshawar, the capital of Pakistan's northwest Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province bordering Afghanistan, Tuesday, Oct. 12, 2021. Wahab, the youngest son of four from a wealthy Pakistani family was rescued by his uncle, from a Taliban training camp on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan earlier this year. His uncle blamed his slide to radicalization on the neighborhood teens Wahab socialized with in their northwest Pakistan hometown, plus video games and Internet sites that his friends introduced to him.
 (AP Photo/Muhammad Sajjad)

Wahab had it all. The youngest son of four from a wealthy Pakistani family, he spent his early years in the United Arab Emirates and for a time in Japan, studying. Wahab liked cars, had his own motorcycle and was crazy about video games.

His uncle, who rescued the 20-year-old from a Taliban training camp on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan earlier this year, asked that his full name not be used because in the northwest where the family lives, militants have deep-reaching tentacles. But more than that, he worries about his family’s reputation because of its prominence. He agreed to be quoted using his middle name, Kamal.

The family has business interests scattered across the globe. Kamal is one of five brothers who runs the family-owned import/export conglomerate. Each brother in turn has groomed and primed their sons for the business. Wahab’s older brothers are already running overseas branches of the family business.

Wahab’s future was to be no different. He returned to Pakistan in his early teens from abroad. Being the youngest son in a society that prizes males, he was spoiled. His older brothers sent him “pocket money,” his uncle said. Other than school, Wahab had few responsibilities.

His uncle blamed his slide to radicalization on the neighborhood teens Wahab hung out with in their northwest Pakistan hometown — not to mention video games and Internet sites.

Wahab’s friends introduced him to dozens of sites, his uncle said. They told of Muslims being attacked, women raped, babies brutally killed. The gruesomeness was horrifying, though Kamal says there was no way to know what was true — or if any had been doctored. But for Wahab, the images were deeply disturbing.

“He felt like he hadn’t known what was going on, that he had spent his life in darkness and he felt he should be involved. His friends insisted he should. They told him he was rich and should help our people,” his uncle said.

To his uncle, Wahab seemed to become increasingly aggressive and fixated on violence with the seemingly endless hours he spent playing video games. One in particular, called PUBG, was all the rage with Wahab and his friends.

“All the boys loved it,” Kamal said. “For hours they would play as a team against the computer.”

People and motorcyclists drive through Qissa Khwani market in the downtown of Peshawar, the capital of Pakistan's northwest Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province bordering Afghanistan, Friday, Oct. 8, 2021. Wahab, the youngest son of four from a wealthy Pakistani family was rescued by his uncle, from a Taliban training camp on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan earlier this year. His uncle blamed his slide to radicalization on the neighborhood teens Wahab socialized with in their northwest Pakistan hometown, plus video games and Internet sites his friends introduced to him.
 (AP Photo/Muhammad Sajjad)

On pubgmobile.com, the game is described as focusing “on visual quality, maps, shooting experience ... providing an all-rounded surreal Battle Royale experience to players. A hundred players will land on the battleground to begin an intense yet fun journey.” Wahab’s uncle said he’d be shouting instructions as he played, interacting with teammates.

Suddenly, earlier this year, Wahab disappeared. His parents, frantic, searched everywhere. Wahab wasn’t the first in the family to flirt with extremism. His cousin Salman had joined the local Pakistani Taliban years before. But he was different: He’d never been interested in school and was sent to a religious school, or madrassa, for his education. The family had long given up on him.

Salman swore he hadn’t seen Wahab and knew nothing of where he might be — or if he had even joined jihad.

Suspicion then fell on Wahab’s friends. Family members were certain they’d induced him to defend against attacks that Wahab and his friends were convinced were being waged against Muslims, simply because of their religion.

The family used its influence and money to press the fathers of Wahab’s friends to find the 20-year-old. They finally located him at a Pakistani Taliban training camp, where Kamal said Wahab was being instructed in the use of small weapons.

Such camps are also often used to identify would-be suicide bombers and instruct them in the use of explosives, identification of soft targets and how to cause the greatest destruction. The Pakistan Taliban have carried out horrific attacks; in 2014, insurgents armed with automatic rifles attacked a public school, killing more than 150 people, most children, some as young as 5.

When Wahab’s father discovered his son was at a training camp, he was furious, said his uncle.

“He told the people, ‘Leave him there. I don’t accept him as my son anymore.’ But I took it on myself to bring him back,” Kamal said. He said he didn’t ask Wahab about the camp or why he wanted to go — or even such basics as how he got there.


People walk while vehicle move through historical Khyber Pass in Jamrud, the main town of Pakistan's Khyber district bordering Afghanistan, Monday, Oct. 11, 2021. Wahab, the youngest son of four from a wealthy Pakistani family was rescued by his uncle, from a Taliban training camp on Pakistan’s border with Afghanistan earlier this year. His uncle blamed his slide to radicalization on the neighborhood teens Wahab socialized with in their northwest Pakistan hometown, plus video games and Internet sites his friends introduced to him. (AP Photo/Muhammad Sajjad)

“I didn’t want him talking about any of it. I didn’t want to know why he went because then I knew he would start to get excited again and he would start thinking about it all over again,” Kamal said. “Instead, I took a firm face with him.”

His uncle told Wahab he was getting another chance — his last.

“I told him, ‘Now it is on me. I have taken the responsibility. You won’t get another chance. If you do anything again then I will shoot you,’” his uncle said. In Pakistan’s northwest, where tribal laws and customs often decide family disputes and feuds, the threat was most likely not an idle one.

Today, Wahab is back in the family business, but his uncle says he is closely watched. He isn’t allowed to deal with the company finances and his circle of friends is monitored. “Right now we don’t trust him. It will take us time,” his uncle says.

Fearful that others among Wahab’s siblings and cousins could be enticed to extremism, the family has imposed greater restrictions on young male relatives. Their independence has been restricted, Kamal says: “We are watching all the young boys now, and most nights they have to be home — unless they tell us where they are.”

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Moral outrage. A sense of injustice. A feeling that things can only be fixed through urgent, potentially violent action.

Those tend to motivate people who gravitate toward extremism, according to Horgan, who directs the Violent Extremism Research Group at Georgia State University. He says such action is often seen as necessary to ward off a perceived impending threat to one’s way of life — and to secure a better future.

“Those similarities you will find repeated across the board, whether you’re talking about extreme right-wing militias in Oklahoma or you’re talking about a Taliban offshoot in northwest Pakistan,” Horgan says.

The world views driving extremist groups may feel fantastical and outrageous to society at large. But the true believers who consume propaganda and align themselves with like-minded associates don’t see it that way. To them, they possess inside knowledge that others simply don’t see.

“There’s a contradiction, because they are committed insiders but part of their insider status is defined by pitting themselves against an outsider whose very existence is said to threaten their own,” Horgan says. “They pride themselves on being anti-authoritarian. Yet conformity is what binds them together.”

Research shows that people who espouse conspiracy theories tend to do poorer on measures of critical thinking. They reduce complex world problems — the pandemic, for instance — to simplified and reassuring answers, says Ziv Cohen, a forensic psychiatrist and expert on extremist beliefs at Weill Cornell Medical College of Cornell University.

Rather than attributing a job loss to the effects of globalization, for instance, one might see it as the result of a conspiracy that someone in particular has engineered.

“It gives us answers,” he says, “that are much more appealing emotionally than the real answer.”

That’s where the stories of Jensen and Wahab seem to intersect. Both were seeking something. Both found answers that were enticing, attractive — and distorted versions of reality.

“For reasons he does not even understand today, he became a ‘true believer’ and was convinced he (was) doing a noble service by becoming a digital soldier for ‘Q,’” Davis, Jensen’s lawyer, wrote in a June court filing. “Maybe it was mid-life crisis, the pandemic, or perhaps the message just seemed to elevate him from his ordinary life to an exalted status with an honorable goal.”

But is that goal ever reached? Is comfort ever found? Oddly, and perhaps counterintuitively, research has shown that when extremists’ conspiracy theories are reinforced, their anxiety levels rise rather than fall, Cohen says. He likens the comfort to a drug — one that requires increasingly more consumption to take effect. Which helps perpetuate the cycle.

Says Cohen: “People seem to not be able to get enough of a conspiracy theory, but they’re never quite satisfied or really reassured.”

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Associated Press writer David Pitt in Des Moines contributed to this report.
‘Burned out’? Why won’t more women return to the job market?

By BOBBY CAINA CALVAN and CHRISTOPHER RUGABER

Keryn Francisco interacts doing math flash cards with her 10-year-old son Reve Francisco in Alameda, Calif., on Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2021. Francisco's interactions are things she didn't have time to do when she worked full-time in the corporate world. As the U.S. economy rebounds from the ongoing pandemic, many women are choosing to sit out the labor force. During her time away from work, Francisco made a discovery that hadn't quite seemed clear to her before: "I was burned out. I used to think that work-life balance was such a fantasy." Now, she's considering the conditions for a full-time return to the workforce. (AP Photo/Haven Daley)


NEW YORK (AP) — There was a time when Naomi Peña could seemingly do it all: Work a full-time job and raise four children on her own.

But when the viral pandemic struck early last year, her personal challenges began to mount and she faced an aching decision: Her children or her job?

She chose her children. In August, Peña left her well-paying position as an executive assistant at Google in New York City. In doing so, she joined millions of other women who are sitting out the job market recovery while caring for relatives, searching for affordable child care, reassessing their careers or shifting their work-life priorities.

“I had to pivot,” said Peña, 41, who said the pandemic disrupted her children’s lives and led her to suspend her career because she felt she was needed more at home than at work.

“I walked away from a salary job with amazing benefits, so ultimately I could be present with my kids,” she said.

A single mother of four ranging from middle school-age to college-age, Peña knows she’ll eventually have to look for another full-time job — or join the gig economy — to regain a steady income. Just not yet.

The pandemic has both laid bare the disproportionate burdens many women shoulder in caring for children or aging parents and highlighted the vital roles they have long played in America’s labor force. The United States bled tens of millions of jobs when states began shuttering huge swaths of the economy after COVID-19 erupted. But as the economy has swiftly rebounded and employers have posted record-high job openings, many women have delayed a return to the workplace, willingly or otherwise.



Even with children back in school, the influx of women into the job market that most analysts had expected has yet to materialize. The number of women either working or looking for work actually fell in September from August. For men, the number rose.

For parents of young children, the male-female disparities are stark. Among mothers of children 13 or younger, the proportion who were employed in September was nearly 4% below pre-pandemic levels, according to Nick Bunker, director of economic research at the Indeed job listings website. For fathers with young children, the decline was just 1%.

“A lot of women have left the labor force — the question is, how permanent will it be?” said Janet Currie, a professor of economics and public affairs at Princeton University and co-director of the Program on Families and Children at the National Bureau of Economic Research. “And if they’re going to come back, when will we see them come back? I don’t know the answers to any of that.”

Many economists and officials, including Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell, had speculated that the re-opening of schools would free more mothers to take jobs. So far that hasn’t happened. The delta variant caused temporary school closings in many areas, which might have discouraged some mothers from returning to work in September. The number of mothers who were employed actually declined for a second straight month.

Still, economists are holding out hope that with increasing vaccinations leading to fewer viral cases, Friday’s U.S. jobs report for October will show an increase in the number of employed women. Any gain, though, is likely to be small, and it could take months to at least partially reverse the pandemic’s impact on female employment.

A major reason, Currie noted, is the worsening difficulty of finding reliable and affordable child care.

That crisis, Currie suggested, is “probably making some people’s minds up for them, because if you can’t get childcare and you have young children, somebody has to look after them.”

Besides childcare, experts point to other factors that have kept some women out of the workforce. The number of people who aren’t working because they’re caring for sick relatives remains elevated. And surveys by the job listings website Indeed have found that many of the unemployed aren’t searching very hard for jobs because their spouses are still working.



Keryn Francisco interacts with her 10-year-old son Reve Francisco on how to ride a bicycle in Alameda, Calif., on Tuesday, Nov. 2, 2021. As the U.S. economy rebounds from the ongoing pandemic, many women are choosing to sit out the labor force. During her time away from work, Francisco made a discovery that hadn't quite seemed clear to her before: "I was burned out. I used to think that work-life balance was such a fantasy." Now, she's considering the conditions for a full-time return to the workforce. (AP Photo/Haven Daley)

As the pandemic erupted in the spring of 2020, roughly 3.5 million mothers with school-age children either lost jobs, took leaves of absence or left the labor market altogether, according to an analysis by the Census Bureau.

A new report, “Women in the Workplace,” by the consulting firm McKinsey & Co. illustrates how the pandemic imposed an especially heavy toll on working women. It found that one in three women over the past year had thought about leaving their jobs or “downshifting” their careers. Early in the pandemic, by contrast, the study’s authors said, just one in four women had considered leaving.

“Women are even more burned out now than they were a year ago,” the report said, “and the gap in burnout between women and men has nearly doubled”: Forty-two percent of women said they felt burnt out this year, compared with 32% who said so in 2020. By contrast, a smaller proportion of men — 35% — felt burnt out this year, compared with 28% in 2020.

Months before the pandemic, Keryn Francisco, a 51-year-old former designer for The North Face, had to decide whether to move, along with her company, to Denver.

She ultimately decided not to leave. And as COVID-19 raged, she became more comfortable with her decision, even if it meant being unemployed and shrinking her severance payout. She had been collecting unemployment aid and has picked up some freelancing to avoid dipping too deeply into savings.

A solo parent, Francisco wanted to focus on caring for her son, now 10, and her elderly parents in the San Francisco Bay area.

“It was out of a sense of responsibility and obligation,” she said. “But also, honestly, I didn’t know what was happening with COVID. So there was a lot of fear and kind of insecurity about like, if my parents died.”

During her time away from work, Francisco made a discovery that hadn’t quite seemed clear to her before: “I was burned out.” Now, she’s considering the conditions for a full-time return to the workforce.

“Once you leave the corporate treadmill,” she said, “you can actually catch your breath. Something does change inside of you.”

Many other women can’t afford to be so choosey, even if they’d like to. Tens of millions of working women, many of them people of color, labor in low-wage jobs and struggle to afford rent, food, utilities and other necessities.

“There may be labor shortages, but lots of folks are working right now and do so because there is really no choice,” said Debra Lancaster, executive director for the Center for Women and Work at Rutgers University. “They need to work to put food on their table.”

Ashley Thomas, who is in her early 40s, said her sabbatical from her job as a public policy advocate is just temporary but a much-needed respite to more deeply consider her career options.

“I had this opportunity to take a step back and just take a breather — because I have been working hard my entire adult life,” Thomas said. “This is not a permanent break. It’s a temporary break.”

There was no single trigger, Thomas said, for her decision to leave her job as a public policy advocate based in Jacksonville, Florida. The virus played a role, although even she is uncertain how much a factor it was.

“I have family members who are elderly and maybe not in the best of health that I was very worried about,” she said. “We have two teenagers here who were home from school, and this is a really hard time for them to just sort of be out of school and not be interacting with their friends as much.”

She recognizes that many other women can’t afford to take such a break from work. Thomas’ husband remains employed, and her two teenage step-children no longer need so much close attention.

“Women have been known to sort of take the brunt of the emotional labor involved in running a household — and working on top of that,” she said. “It’s probably inevitable that folks have some sort of reckoning to reconsider the trajectory of what their life is going to look like, especially after a pandemic.”

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Rugaber contributed from Washington.