Sunday, February 05, 2023

Two bald eagles nested in a pine for years. A utility company tried to chop it down

Maanvi Singh in Potter Valley, California
Sat, February 4, 2023 

Photograph: Fred Thornhill/AP

Up a winding northern California highway, beneath a 120ft ponderosa pine tree, a group of environmentalists gathered for some high stakes bird-watching.

Everyone was waiting for a pair of bald eagles to swoop into their nest, an orb of twigs and branches balanced amid the tree’s scraggly branches. The elusive raptors have nested here for years, renovating and upgrading it each year in preparation for hatchlings in the spring.

Related: Deforestation piles pressure on South America’s elusive Chacoan peccary

But this year, unless the eagles – who spend the fall and winter months away from their nests – were observed back at their tree by mid-January, they’d lose it.

That’s because Pacific Gas & Electric, the largest utility company in the US, had obtained a permit to chop down the ageing pine, arguing that it could fall on the company’s nearby power line and spark a catastrophic wildfire. Environmentalists and the Coyote Valley Band of Pomo Indians countered that PG&E – which is facing increasing pressure to stop its equipment from starting fires across the state – should move their power lines instead.

Lawyers for the tribe beseeched the utility company to reconsider. Locals printed up signs to save the nest. In recent weeks, activists and tribal elders protested, prayed and physically barricaded themselves in front of the tree as PG&E crews came – alongside sheriff’s deputies – to cut it down.

“They had their cherry picker and their wood chipper ready,” said Polly Girvin, an environmental and Indigenous rights activist. “But we weren’t going to back down.”

Now, armed with binoculars and cell phones on a misty January morning, they were on watch. Bald eagles are protected under state and federal laws, and PG&E could only take down the tree so long as the nest was unoccupied or abandoned. “We need to keep proving that this is an active nest,” explained Girvin.

The eagles did come that day, arriving just as a thick rain began to roll in. A few days later, PG&E said it would back down.

But the showdown over this lone tree, near an electrical line that serves just a single property, has raised difficult questions about PG&E’s approach to fire safety and its fraught relationship with the communities it serves, many of whom live in rural, wildland areas.

The company is under growing legal and financial pressure to act after its power lines have been blamed for sparking multiple fires, including a deadly 2020 fire in northern Shasta county. Last year, it reached a $55m settlement with six counties over several other fires, including the Kincade fire and Dixie fire.

As PG&E rushes to trim trees and remove brush near its power lines to avert future catastrophes – and avoid liability – environmentalists worry that local nuances are being overlooked.

“PG&E says that the tree is dangerous, it’s a hazard – but that’s not right. It’s their lines that are the hazard,” said Naomi Wagner, a local activist with the environmental group Earth First!. “So why is it the tree that needs to go?”

***

During their recent bald eagle watch party, Wagner, Girvin and half a dozen other activists settled around to a small campfire that fizzled in the rain. Old-time environmentalists who’d been agitating since the 1960s were joined by their kids, grandkids and dogs. Coffee, muffins and binoculars were passed all around, along with warnings not to squeal or shout to avoid startling the eagles.

Priscilla Hunter, the former Coyote Valley chair squinted up and shifted closer to the fire. “It’s a miracle that they are here,” she said. Michael Hunter, the tribe’s current chair, jumped up. “Hey, birds, where are you at?”

Activists and tribal leaders, to whom the eagle holds cultural significance, have alleged that the power company and US Fish and Wildlife Service failed to properly inform and consult with the tribe in deciding to remove the tree, which could remain standing and serve as a habitat for this eagle couple, or their offspring, for years to come.

And here was a bird that was not only sacred to Native American tribes, but also a symbol of the United States. And still, crews had come to take down the tree on 9 January – a day before National Save the Eagles Day. “I mean how clueless could PG&E be,” said Wagner.

Moreover, the owner of the property where the tree stands, as well as the residents who live there, all supported alternative solutions – including rerouting or burying the electric line, or setting up a solar microgrid.

In TV advertisements, PG&E has been promoting its plans to bury 10,000 miles of power lines underground to reduce the risk of them hitting trees, so why not do the same here? “I mean, come on,” Girvin said. “They just want to take the fast and easy route.”

Related: Ex-Arizona governor’s illegal makeshift border wall is torn down – but at what cost?

Meanwhile, PG&E contended in public statements the tree “contains an inactive bald eagle’s nest, is a hazard and is at risk of failing and striking a PG&E line in a high fire-threat area”.

Ultimately, the company was proven wrong when eagles finally swooped in. They first arrived as activists and tribal elders sang and prayed beneath the tree, hours before PG&E crews arrived. And they returned each day afterwards. “It was magical,” said Girvin.

A few days later, PG&E issued a statement saying that it would bury the lines, after all. “This solution allows us to protect our hometowns while also taking into account the values of our local tribe, property owners and environmental advocates,” said Ron Richardson, vice-president of PG&E’s north coast region, in a statement to the Guardian.

It was a hard-won concession – one that the activists will remain wary of until they receive a legally binding commitment to leave the tree standing. Though the company can’t take down a tree with nesting eagles, they could return if the eagles leave again. “It seems like you just have to expose how inefficient this is,” said Hunter, the Coyote Valley band chair.

This was already the second year that PG&E had tried to take down this tree. In 2022, as well, the eagle couple returned to their nest just in the nick of time to call off the saws. “And they had a baby!” said Joseph Seidell, a cannabis farmer who lives on the property and led early protests against PG&E’s plans. “I mean just look at this,” he gestured. “This giant pile of beautiful woven twigs holds this beautiful, sacred bird.”

In August, the utility company de-energized the overhead electrical line, just in case the tree did end up falling and sparking a blaze, and asked for Seidell’s agreement that he wouldn’t impede crews when they came to take down the tree in the future. “It was devastating,” he said.

***

The ordeal has left tribal leaders and environmentalists concerned that the utility company – and the government agencies that oversee and permit its fire safety plans – have failed to properly communicate and consult with communities before undertaking work that impacts important wilderness areas.

Although the Fish and Wildlife Service had sent a letter informing Hunter of PG&E’s intention to cut down the tree in December, lawyers representing the tribe alleged that authorities didn’t wait for a response and didn’t give tribal authorities enough time to review the permit over the holiday season.

The agency was unable respond to the Guardian’s request for comment before publication.

The Fish and Wildlife Service, which has a codified “trust responsibility” – a binding moral obligation – to tribes, could do more to engage with and consult with tribal governments, said Don Hankins, a pyrogeographer and Plains Miwok fire expert at California State University, Chico.

“There clearly needs to be better coordination on these sorts of things,” he said. After a two-year fight over one tree, he noted, it’s unclear why government officials and PG&E didn’t coordinate with tribal leaders sooner.

PG&E and the Fish and Wildlife Service do have policies to ensure that they don’t impact vulnerable species, Hankins said – but those laws and policies don’t always account for the complexities of specific environments.

In Mendocino county, where there is a dark history of logging in the 1800s, which decimated old-growth redwoods and violently displaced some Native villages, a lack of proper communication and care by PG&E and the Fish and Wildlife Service brings an extra sting.

And even now, the Coyote Valley Band of Pomo Indians are involved in a protracted fight to curb commercial logging in the nearby Jackson Demonstration state forest, a nearly 50,000-acre area managed by the California department of forestry and fire prevention, or Cal Fire.

Related: Cute, furry and key to the ecosystem: can sea otters save the US west coast?

And although various government and private operators in this region have made some gestures toward working with local tribes with crucial, generational knowledge about the fragile landscapes here – they’ve often failed to meaningfully follow through, Girvin said.

Crews for various agencies have operated “willy nilly for years”, she said. “They haven’t cared at all about putting skid trails through sacred sites, or thought carefully about habitat protection and the species affected in the area.” These incursions can feel especially frustrating when the government for decades ignored, denied and criminalised traditional stewardship practices of tribes up and down California, she noted.

“To the settlers, whatever or whoever was in the way of doing business, they’d just cut down,” said Priscilla Hunter. “That’s what these eagles reminded me of.”



Ancient road found beneath new town in Devon



Sun, February 5, 2023

Archaeological investigators have found evidence of an ancient road, Bronze Age homes and Roman farmsteads on the site of a new town in Devon.

Last year, the team at Sherford found "Ice Age megafauna" including mammoth, rhino and wolf remains.

Now experts have discovered the area was also a "key route" for human communities thousands of years ago.

Rob Bourn of Orion Heritage said the latest finds were "fascinating".

He added: "Enhancing our understanding of not just Devon, but also Britain's ancient history, the archaeological work at Sherford continues to be fascinating.

"We are thrilled to work on these important historic investigations, and hope the findings at Sherford help to encourage everyone to take an interest in local history and secrets under the soil."

The "probable Roman road" runs across the site of Sherford Business Park, which lies partly within the Plymouth and South Devon Freeport.

Experts from from Orion Heritage and AC Archaeology believe it provides evidence of the site having been a "crucial link" for trade and connecting "ancient communities".

Its crushed slate surface and "visible" drainage points reflect construction methods of the time, they said.

Other uncovered artefacts shine a light on different periods of history.

These include roundhouse postholes, which are circular family homes made of natural materials, indicating the area was a "thriving place of activity" in the Bronze Age (2700 - 700 BC).

Pottery, dating back to 1500 BC, was also uncovered.

Meanwhile square enclosures were once home to farmsteads during the Roman period and there is evidence of flint tools.

The Sherford Consortium said findings would, where possible, be removed, analysed and preserved with a view to put them on public display.

The Sherford project to create 5,500 homes, plus shops, businesses, leisure facilities, schools, parks and woodland began in 2015.

Archaeological investigations, funded by a consortium of developers at Sherford and in coordination with Devon County Council, have been taking place since then.

Peter Sadler of the Sherford Consortium, said the road discovery showed the area to be a "key route for travel and trade between local families and communities thousands of years ago."

BBC

Turmoil risks financial stability Peru long took for granted

 

Musicians play traditional Peruvian flutes known as quenas, during an anti-government march in Cusco, Peru, Thursday, Feb. 2, 2023. Protesters are seeking immediate elections, the resignation of President Dina Boluarte and the dissolution of Congress, since former President Pedro Castillo was ousted and arrested for trying to dissolve Congress in December. (AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd)

JOSHUA GOODMAN
Sun, February 5, 2023 

CUSCO, Peru (AP) — Marco Gonzales ventured to the Andean city of Cusco from his home in the Peruvian Amazon in 2007 with little more than $20, a smidgeon of English and a change of clothes poorly suited for the icy mountain air.

He started offering walking tours of the former Incan Empire capital in exchange for tips. Along the way he fell in love with a British backpacker, Nathalie Zulauf, and together the couple built a travel business and family.

But now it's all at risk of collapsing along with so much of Peru’s once enviable economic stability.

The couple’s company, Bloody Bueno Peru, which caters to mostly foreign tourists from Britain and elsewhere, hasn’t seen a customer since December, when protesters demanding the resignation of caretaker President Dina Boluarte all but cut off access to the ancient ruins of Machu Picchu. Groups have canceled reservations months in advance, forcing the couple to dip into savings already depleted by the coronavirus pandemic.

“We’re waiting until March to see if the situation improves,” said Gonzales, 38, staring at a calendar he no longer bothers to update. “If it doesn't we’ll have to explore other options, like shutting down the business and emigrating. At least in England we have Nathalie’s family.”

Others in Cusco have far less to fall back on.


The city of 450,000, normally a polyglot mecca of foreign travelers, is a ghost town these days. The Plaza de Armas, where women dressed in colorful Andean textiles used to pose for snapshots, now attracts demonstrators playing cat-and-mouse with heavily armored riot police.

Political turmoil is nothing new in Peru, which has seen six presidents in the last five years. In 1969, with a military dictatorship in power, Nobel Prize-winning author Mario Vargas Llosa posed this now iconic question to start his novel “Conversations in the Cathedral”: “At what precise moment did Peru screw itself?”

For a long time, the dysfunction was held in check and didn't interfere with sacred cornerstones of the free-market economy like the key mining industry. Since 2000, Peru's economy grew at an average annual rate of 4.4% — more than any country in South America —with low inflation and a stable currency. Until the pandemic hit, poverty had fallen by half.

But the scale of violence following President Pedro Castillo’s Dec. 7 impeachment and arrest for a clumsy effort to shutter Congress — unrest that has left 57 civilians dead and hundreds more injured — has revived class and racial divisions and has many Peruvians wondering whether the long period of uneasy stability has run its course.

“This dichotomy couldn’t last,” said Steven Levitsky, a Harvard University political scientist and co-author of the 2018 book, “ How Democracies Die.”

Signs of the economic fallout are everywhere.


In December — as the political crisis got underway — the number of foreigners arriving in Peru had already fallen to the lowest level since 2009, aside from the two years lost to COVID-19. Activity at three major copper and tin mines had been suspended because highways were blocked or their facilities attacked by protesters.

Peru is the world’s largest exporter of grapes and the protests hit during the height of harvest. Shipments in one major growing area are barely 4% of a year ago, according to Darío Núñez, whose company, Uvica, has been unable to fulfill orders by U.S. retailers such as Costco and Sam’s Club.

“The credibility of Peru as a brand is starting to suffer,” said Núñez. “I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.”

Peru’s democratic dysfunction, years in the making, accelerated with Castillo’s surprise election in 2021. A rural schoolteacher, he rose from obscurity to fill a void left by a broken political system, widespread graft and deep-seated racism.

His journey from an adobe home in one of Peru's poorest areas to the presidential palace was fueled by fury in the long-neglected Andean highlands. But once in office, he shuffled his Cabinet almost weekly and was beset by corruption allegations that underscored his inexperience.

Elites in Congress, although even more discredited than Castillo, went on the offensive, using an obscure constitutional power to seek his impeachment for “moral incapacity.” This triggered Castillo’s move to shut down Congress, which backfired with his arrest on charges of rebellion — and vice president Boluarte’s ascension to power.

The current revolt has coalesced around an urgent demand: Boluarte’s departure. Congress could act by ordering early elections but has so far refused as lawmakers are reluctant to, in effect, fire themselves.

Levitsky said it's too early to know how Peru’s crisis will unfold. One demand from protesters is that the constitution adopted during Alberto Fujimori's 1990-2000 authoritarian rule and which strengthened free-market reforms be overhauled.

But whatever happens, Levitsky doesn’t see a return to the status quo.

“A state that doesn’t work is sooner or later going to fall into crisis,” he said. “They had 20 years to build a state and they failed miserably.”

Monuments to that failure are everywhere in Cusco: An unfinished highway that was supposed to bisect the city and the crumbling façade of the Hotel Cusco, a historic landmark owned by the city government.

But perhaps the biggest white elephant is the Hospital Antonio Lorena.

Rising above the city’s red tile roofs, the sleek glass-and-steel structure was supposed to be the most modern in southern Peru when construction began in 2012. But after three years, the Brazilian builder abandoned the project amid an investigation into cost overruns fueled by alleged bribes paid to Cusco’s governor and the wife of Peru’s then-president Ollanta Humala.

Today, the half-built skeleton is covered by graffiti amid peeling paint, exposed power cables and shattered glass. On Dec. 7 — the day Castillo was arrested — a ribbon-cutting ceremony was held to mark the start of a 730-day, $ 244 million rescue plan for the project by a new foreign consortium with technical assistance from France.

Jorge Zapata, the head of Peru’s construction lobby, blames greedy politicians for the standstill. Nationwide, over 2,500 state-funded infrastructure projects worth $7 billion are paralyzed due to mismanagement, he said.

Meanwhile, instead of guiding tourists, Gonzales now spends his days scouring Cusco for a propane gas cannister to cook and bathe the couple's 5-month-old daughter, Willow.

At an industrial depot, dozens of desperate residents were lined up this week in hopes demonstrators blocking the highways would halt their pickets long enough to let the trucks delivering the propane reach the besieged city.

“This is really scary,” said Zulauf, as she bounced her baby on her knees staring at the long line from her car. “In Cusco, people live day-to-day. If they can’t work, I don’t know how they’re surviving.”

Among those in line was Fredy Deza, who spent the night in a sleeping bag on the sidewalk.

Deza, 40, said the all-night vigil recalled another dark period in Peru’s history, when he would wait with his mother in long lines for bread, sugar and other staples during the chaotic 1985-1990 presidency of Alan Garcia.

“It’s like we’re going back in time,” said Deza, who worked as a guide in Machu Picchu until he was let go in December.

Prices for propane and other scarce items in Cusco are soaring due to inflation that jumped to 8.7% in January, near the highest level in a quarter-century. A black market has emerged, with cannisters going for three times the listed price.

Adding to insult, the cooking gas many can no longer afford is pumped by a foreign-owned consortium from the resource-rich department of Cusco and transported by a pipeline to the capital, Lima, where the bulk is then exported. A projected second pipeline, which would deliver it to Cusco and other cities in the south, remains a pipe dream.

“It’s sad,” said Deza, as he prepared for another cold night, "that as owners of our gas we have to be enduring this.”

___

AP writers Daniel Politi in Buenos Aires, Argentina; Franklin Briceno in Lima, Peru, and Frank Bajak in Boston contributed to this report.

Follow Goodman on Twitter: @APJoshGoodman
























Iran acknowledges 'tens of thousands' detained in protests




JON GAMBRELL
Sun, February 5, 2023 

DUBAI, United Arab Emirates (AP) — Iran's supreme leader on Sunday reportedly ordered an amnesty or reduction in prison sentences for “tens of thousands” of people detained amid nationwide anti-government protests shaking the country, acknowledging for the first time the scale of the crackdown.

The decree by Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, part of a yearly pardoning the supreme leader does before the anniversary of Iran's 1979 Islamic Revolution, comes as authorities have yet to say how many people they detained in the demonstrations. State media also published a list of caveats over the order that would disqualify those with ties abroad or facing spying charges — allegations which have been met with wide international criticism.

Khamenei “agreed to offer amnesty and reduce the sentences of tens of thousands accused and convicted in the recent incidents,” the state-run IRNA news agency said in a Farsi report. A later IRNA report carried by its English-language service said the pardons and commuted sentences were for "tens of thousands of convicts, including the arrestees of the recent riots in Iran.” Authorities did not immediately acknowledge the discrepancy in the reports.

The reports about the decree offered no explanation for the decision by Khamenei, who has final say on all matters of state in Iran. However, prisons and detention facilities already had faced overcrowding in the country after years of protests over economic issues and other matters.

Activists immediately dismissed Khamenei’s decree.

“Khamenei’s hypocritical pardon doesn’t change anything,” wrote Mahmood Amiry-Moghaddam of the Oslo-based group Iran Human Rights. “Not only all protesters must be released unconditionally, but also it is a public right that those who ordered the bloody repression and their agents are held accountable.”

Authorities also did not name any of those who had been pardoned or seen shorter sentences. Instead, state television continued to refer to the demonstrations as being a "foreign-backed riot," rather than homegrown anger over the September death of Masha Amini, an Iranian-Kurdish woman detained by the country's morality police. Anger also has been spreading over the collapse of the Iranian rial against the U.S. dollar, as well as Tehran arming Russia with bomb-carrying drones in its war on Ukraine.

More than 19,600 people have been arrested during the protests, according to Human Rights Activists in Iran, a group that's been tracking the crackdown. At least 527 people have been killed as authorities violently suppressed demonstrations, the group said. Iran hasn't offered a death toll for months. It already has executed at least four people detained amid the protests after internationally criticized trials.

All this comes as Iran's nuclear deal has collapsed and Tehran has enough highly enriched uranium to potentially build “several” atomic bombs if it chooses, the United Nations' top nuclear envoy has said. A shadow war between Iran and Israel has risen out of the chaos, with Tehran blaming Israel for a drone attack on a military workshop in Isfahan last week as well.

Meanwhile, a long-detained opposition leader in Iran is calling for a nationwide referendum about whether to write a new constitution for the Islamic Republic.

Mir Hossein Mousavi's call, posted late Saturday by the opposition Kaleme website, included him saying he didn't believe Iran's current system giving final say to a supreme leader worked any longer. He also called for the formation of a constitutional assembly of “real representatives” to write a new constitution.

It remains unlikely Iran's theocracy will heed the 80-year-old politician's call. He and his wife have been under house arrest for years after his disputed presidential election loss in 2009 led to the widespread Green Movement protests that security forces also put down. However, he himself had supported and served in Iran's theocracy for decades.

In 2019, Mousavi compared Khamenei to the former Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, whose rule saw troops gun down demonstrators in an event that led to the Islamic Revolution.

Separately, former reformist President Mohammad Khatami urged “free and competitive elections” after the release of political prisoners both imprisoned and under house arrest.

“Reformism at least has faced a ... dead end, so people have a right to be frustrated about it as they are about the ruling system,” Khatami said in a statement circulated online.

Currently, hard-liners control all levers of power in the country. Reformists like Khatami and Mousavi previously sought to change and open up Iran's Islamic Republic while maintaining its system. But increasingly, protesters have demanded an end to theocratic rule in the country.

Who are Iran's morality police? A scholar of the Middle East explains their history

Pardis Mahdavi, Provost and Executive Vice President, University of Montana
THE CONVERSATION
Sat, February 4, 2023 

Protestors are pressing the Iranian regime for changes since the death of 22-year-old Mahsa Amini. AP Photo/Emrah Gurel

Until recently, most people outside of Iran had never heard of the country’s morality police, let alone followed their wider role in the region. But on Sept. 16, 2022, the death of Jina Mahsa Amini sparked widespread protests in the streets of Iran and elsewhere that have shown no signs of abating. Amini had been in the custody of Gasht-e-Ershad, the Persian name of this notorious police force, for “improper wearing of hijab.”

On Dec. 4, reports citing Iran’s Attorney General Mohammad Jafar Montazeri suggested that the morality police had been abolished. Montazeri said that the morality police lacked judiciary power and that hijab laws were under review, which led to widespread speculation about whether the regime was trying to find a way forward.

Yet, there were those who doubted the comments and called it a “false flag” on the part of those in power. A few noted that even if the morality police were abolished and the mandatory wearing of the hijab repealed, the regime would still need to be held accountable for all of its human rights violations.

These sentiments have formed the basis of a three-day nationwide strike that began on Dec. 5 and has shuttered thousands of shops, including those in the historic Grand Bazaar in the heart of Tehran, bringing the economy of the country to a grinding halt.

But who are the morality police? Where did they come from? And what is their history during and before the Islamic Republic of Iran?

A vice squad in context

The mandate and power of morality police date back to before the Islamic Revolution that shook Iran in 1979, and their reach has extended throughout the Middle East.

The Quran says that it is imperative that religious leaders “ensure right and forbid wrong.” To carry this out, beginning at the time of the Prophet Mohammad, public morals were overseen by market inspectors referred to as muhtasib.

As a scholar of gender and feminism in the Middle East, I’ve studied the long history of debates about the role of Islam in regulating morality. The earliest evidence of a muhtasib, interestingly, was a woman selected in Medina by the prophet himself.

Over the centuries, the mandate of the muhtasib became focused on regulating dress, particularly for women. While these market inspectors were recorded as issuing fines and occasional lashings, they did not have the same level of authority as the judiciary.

By the early 20th century, however, the muhtasibs had transitioned into the vice squads, patrolling the streets to make sure people were complying with Islamic values. It was mostly in Saudi Arabia under the influence of Wahhabism that morality police forces first gained prominence and momentum. The first modern morality police force, an official committee charged with “commanding right and forbidding wrong,” was formed in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia in 1926. Comprised mostly of men, the force was charged with enforcing modest dress, regulating heterosocializing – engagement with members of the opposite sex if unmarried or unrelated – and ensuring citizens attended prayer.

By 2012, more than one-third of the 56 countries making up The Organization for Islamic Cooperation had some form of religiously informed squadrons seeking to uphold right and forbid wrong as interpreted by Islamists in power.

A committee to enact revolution


In Iran, the morality police first appeared in the form of what was called the “Islamic Revolution Committee” following the 1979 Islamic Revolution. Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the Shiite cleric who led the revolution, wanted to control the behavior of Iranian citizens after too many years of what he and his fellow Islamists called a period of “secular Westoxication.”

The Islamic Revolution Committee, called “Komiteh” by many Iranians, was merged in the 1980s with the Gendarmerie, the first rural police force overseeing modern highways, to form the Law Enforcement Command of the Islamic Republic of Iran. In 1983, when mandatory veiling laws were passed, the Komiteh was tasked with ensuring these laws were upheld in addition to their other duties of ensuring right and forbidding wrong.

A changing time

The current morality police – the Guidance Patrol or Gasht-e-Ershad – were given formal standing as an arm of the police force by President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad in 2005.

The group had been steadily growing in size since the 1980s, and by 2005 consisted of more than 7,000 officers. Women make up less than a quarter of the squadron but frequently accompany their male counterparts, who often arrive in unmarked vans and pour out into the streets in green uniforms. The women, meanwhile, wear black cloaks that cover them from head to toe.

For most of the 1980s and 1990s, the Komiteh was comprised of religiously devout followers of the regime who joined the force at the encouragement of clerics. However, by the early 2000s, Iran’s population was comprised mostly of young people. When Ahmadinejad made the Komiteh an official police force, a number of young men joined to fulfill their mandatory military conscription. This younger generation was more lax than their older counterparts, leading to inconsistent patrolling.

When President Ebrahim Raisi came to power in 2021, he emboldened the morality police to engage in harsh crackdowns on the Iranian populace, particularly in the cities. Raisi, like Khomeini and other clerics, used this vice squad to send a message to Iranian citizens that the regime is watching.

This clampdown, particularly when it led to the death of Amini, has been met with outrage by a large number of Iranians. While it is not yet confirmed whether or not the morality police have been disbanded, protesters are continuing to press the regime for change.

This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit news site dedicated to sharing ideas from academic expert

Famine, subjugation and nuclear fallout: How Soviet experience helped sow resentment among Ukrainians toward Russia

Jacob Lassin, Postdoctoral Research Scholar in Russian and East European Studies, Arizona State University 
Emily Channell-Justice, Director of the Temerty Contemporary Ukraine Program, Harvard University
THE CONVERSATION
Sun, February 5, 2023 

A statue commemorating the Ukrainian famine, in which millions died. Ukrainian Presidency/Handout/Anadolu Agency via Getty Images

Ukraine and Russia share a great deal in the way of history and culture – indeed for long periods in the past, the neighboring countries were part of larger empires encompassing both territories.

But that history – especially during the Soviet period from 1922 to 1991, in which Ukraine was absorbed into the communist bloc – has also bred resentment. Opinions of the merits of the Soviet Union and its leaders diverge, with Ukrainians far less likely to view the period favorably than Russians.

Nonetheless, President Vladimir Putin continues to claim Soviet foundations for what he sees as “historical Russia” – an entity that includes Ukraine.

As scholars of that history, we believe that an examination of Soviet-era policies in Ukraine can offer a useful lens for understanding why so many Ukrainians harbor deep resentment toward Russia.

Stalin’s engineered famine

Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, Ukraine was known as the breadbasket of Europe and later of the Soviet Union. Its rich soil and ample fields made it an ideal place to grow the grain that helped feed the entire continent.

After Ukraine was absorbed into the Soviet Union beginning in 1922, its agriculture was subject to collectivization policies, in which private land was taken over by the Soviets to be worked communally. Anything produced on those lands would be redistributed across the union.

In 1932 and 1933, a famine devastated the Soviet Union as a result of aggressive collectivization coupled with poor harvests.

A deliberate famine? Daily Express/Hulton Archive/Getty Images

Millions starved to death across the Soviet Union, but Ukraine felt the brunt of this horror. Research estimates that some 3 million to 4 million Ukrainians died of the famine, around 13% of the population, though the true figure is impossible to establish because of Soviet efforts to hide the famine and its toll.

Scholars note that many of the political decisions of the Soviet regime under Joseph Stalin – such as preventing Ukrainian farmers from traveling in search of food, and severely punishing anyone who took produce from collective farms – made the famine much worse for Ukrainians. These policies were specific to Ukrainians within Ukraine, as well as Ukrainians who lived in other parts of the Soviet Union.

Some historians claim that Stalin’s moves were done to quash a Ukrainian independence movement and were specifically targeted at ethnic Ukrainians. As such, some scholars call the famine a genocide. In Ukrainian, the event is known as “Holodomor,” which means “death by hunger.”

Recognition of the full extent of the Holodomor and implicating Soviet leadership for the deaths remains an important issue in Ukraine to this day, with the country’s leaders long fighting for global recognition of the Holodomor and its impact on modern Ukraine.

Countries such as the United States and Canada have made official declarations calling it a genocide.

But this is not the case in much of the rest of the world.


Just as the the Soviet government of the day denied that there were any decisions that explicitly deprived Ukraine of food – noting that the famine affected the entire country – so too do present-day Russian leaders refuse to acknowledge culpability.

Russia’s refusal to admit that the famine disproportionately affected Ukrainians has been taken by many in Ukraine as an attempt to downplay Ukrainian history and national identity.

Soviet annexation of Western Ukraine

This attempt to suppress Ukrainian national identity continued during and after World War II. In the early years of the Soviet Union, the Ukrainian national movement was concentrated in the western parts of modern-day Ukraine, part of Poland until the Nazi invasion in 1939.

Before Gemany’s invasion, the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany entered into a secret agreement, under the guise of the Molotov-Ribbentrop nonaggression pact, which outlined German and Soviet spheres of influence over parts of central and east Europe.


David Low’s famed cartoon depicting Stalin and Hitler’s pact over Poland.
David Low/British Cartoon Archive at the University of Kent

After Germany invaded Poland, the Red Army moved into the eastern portion of the country under the pretense of stabilizing the failing nation. In reality, the Soviet Union was taking advantage of the provisions laid out in the secret protocol. The Polish territories that now make up western Ukraine were also incorporated into Soviet Ukraine and Belarus, subsuming them into the larger Russian cultural world.

At the end of the war, the territories remained part of the Soviet Union.

Stalin set about suppressing Ukrainian culture in these newly annexed lands in favor of a greater Russian culture. For example, the Soviets repressed any Ukrainian intellectuals who promoted the Ukrainian language and culture through censorship and imprisonment.

This suppression also included liquidating the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church, a self-governing church that has allegiance to the pope and was one of the most prominent cultural institutions promoting Ukrainian language and culture in these former Polish territories.

Its properties were transferred to the Russian Orthodox Church, and many of its priests and bishops were imprisoned or exiled. The destruction of the Ukrainian Greek Catholic Church is still a source of resentment for many Ukrainians. It stands, we believe as scholars, as a clear instance of the Soviets’ intentional efforts to destroy Ukrainian cultural institutions.

The legacy of Chernobyl in Ukraine

Just as disaster marked the early years of Ukraine as a Soviet republic, so did its final years.

In 1986 a nuclear reactor at the Soviet-run Chernobyl nuclear power in the north of Ukraine went into partial meltdown. It remains the worst peacetime nuclear catastrophe the world has seen.

It required the evacuation of nearly 200,000 people in the areas surrounding the power plant. And to this day, approximately 1,000 square miles of Ukraine are part of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone, where radioactive fallout remains high and access is restricted.

Soviet lies to cover up the extent of the disaster – and missteps that would have limited the fallout – only compounded the problem. Emergency personnel were not given proper equipment or training to deal with the nuclear material.

It resulted in a heavy death toll and a higher than normal incidence of radiation-induced disease and complications such as cancer and birth defects among both former residents of the region and the workers sent in to deal with the disaster.

Other Soviet republics and European countries faced the fallout from Chernobyl, but it was the authorities in Ukraine who were tasked with organizing evacuations to Kyiv while Moscow attempted to cover up the scope of the disaster.

Meanwhile, independent Ukraine has been left to attend to the thousands of citizens who have chronic illnesses and disabilities as a result of the accident.


An abandoned fun fair, two kilometers from the Chernobyl power station. 
Martin Godwin/Getty Images

The legacy of Chernobyl looms large in Ukraine’s recent past and continues to define many people’s memory of living in the Soviet era.

Memories of a painful past


This painful history of life under Soviet rule forms the backdrop to resentment in Ukraine today toward Russia. To many Ukrainians, these are not merely stories from textbooks, but central parts of people’s lives – many Ukrainians are still living with the health and environmental consequences of Chernobyl, for instance.

The presence of Russian soldiers on Ukraine’s soil serves as a reminder of past attempts by its neighbor to crush Ukrainian independence.

This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit news site dedicated to sharing ideas from academic experts. 

It was written by: Emily Channell-Justice, Harvard University and Jacob Lassin, Arizona State University.

Read more:

Russia’s recent invasions of Ukraine and Georgia offer clues to what Putin might be thinking now

Why Putin has such a hard time accepting Ukrainian sovereignty

The US military presence in Europe has been declining for 30 years – the current crisis in Ukraine may reverse that trend

Jacob Lassin receives funding from the National Council for Russian and East European Research.

Emily Channell-Justice does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.






What did the ancient Egyptian pyramids look like when they were built?

Patrick Pester
Sun, February 5, 2023 

A digital reconstruction of a Giza pyramid by Australian insurance company Budget Direct.

The Egyptian pyramids erupting from the sands at Giza are a testament to human ingenuity and engineering. Raised to mark the tombs of ancient pharaohs, these great structures have stood for thousands of years.

But over the millennia, the pyramids have changed, largely due to construction workers' repurposing of in-demand materials and looting. So what did the pyramids look like when they were built?

When the ancient Egyptian pyramids were originally erected, both in Giza and elsewhere, they didn't look sandy brown as they often do today; rather, they were covered in a layer of shiny sedimentary rock.

"All the pyramids were cased with fine, white limestone," Mohamed Megahed, an assistant professor at the Czech Institute of Egyptology at Charles University in Prague, told Live Science. The limestone casing would have given the pyramids a smooth, polished layer that shined bright white under the Egyptian sun.

Related: Who built the Egyptian pyramids?

Builders used around 6.1 million tons (5.5 million metric tons) of limestone during the construction of the Great Pyramid of Giza alone, according to National Museums Scotland, which displays one of the original limestone blocks. The Great Pyramid — also called Khufu's Pyramid after the pharaoh Khufu, who commissioned it during his reign (circa 2551 B.C. to 2528 B.C.) — is the largest and oldest of all the standing pyramids in Giza. However, its casing stones were later repurposed for other building work under Egyptian rulers, as was the case for most pyramid shells.

There's evidence that the casing stones began being stripped under Tutankhamun's reign (circa 1336 B.C. to 1327 B.C.), and this continued until the 12th Century A.D., Egyptologist Mark Lehner explained in a PBS NOVA Q&A thread. An earthquake in A.D. 1303 would also have loosened some of the stones, according to BBC News.

Today, the Giza pyramids still retain some of their original limestone casing, though it looks slightly more weathered than in ancient times. "You can see it on the top of the Pyramid of Khafre in Giza," Megahed said.


View of pyramids from the Giza Plateau (three pyramids known as Queens' Pyramids on front side; next in order from left - the Pyramid of Menkaure, Khafre and Khufu. WitR via Shutterstock

The Pyramid of Khafre, named after the pharaoh Khafre (who reigned circa 2520 B.C. to 2494 B.C.), has casing stones leftover around its peak that give the impression that a second peak is wedged on top of the first. In ancient Egypt, this pyramid also had red granite casing around its lower levels, Egyptologist Miroslav Verner wrote in his book "The Pyramids: The Archaeology and History of Egypt's Iconic Monuments" (The American University in Cairo Press, 2021). The third and smallest of the three main pyramids in Giza, the Pyramid of Menkaure — named after the pharaoh Menkaure, who reigned circa 2490 B.C. to 2472 B.C. — also sported red granite casing around its lower echelons.

There's nothing at the top of the Giza pyramids today, but originally they hosted capstones — also called pyramidions — covered in electrum, a mix of gold and silver, according to Megahed. The pyramidions would have looked like pointy jewels at the tips of the pyramids.

Most pyramidions have been lost over time, but there are a few surviving examples in museums. These specimens reveal that pyramidions were carved with religious imagery. For example, the British Museum has a limestone pyramidion covered in hieroglyphics from Abydos, an archaeological site in Egypt, that depict deceased people worshipping the ancient Egyptian god Osiris and undergoing mummification from the jackal-headed Anubis.

Considering the pyramids' former splendor, absent features today can appear like open wounds. Perhaps the best example of this is evident on the Pyramid of Menkaure. "When you see the Menkaure's pyramid from the north, you can see a great gash, like a big depression," Yukinori Kawae, an archaeologist at Nagoya University's Institute for Advanced Research in Japan, told Live Science.

The Pyramid of Menkaure's gash may be a visual blight that wouldn't have existed in ancient times, but the benefit of such damage is that today, it provides a window into the pyramids.

"This is also the important area for archaeologists because we can see the internal structures of the pyramids," Kawae said.
COLONIALISM BY ANY OTHER NAME
Canada deploys military aircraft over Haiti to disrupt gangs

Houses pack a hillside in the Jalousie district of Port-au-Prince.

Kanishka Singh
Sun, February 5, 2023
By Kanishka Singh

(Reuters) - The Canadian government said on Sunday it deployed a military aircraft over Haiti to address what it called a "dire security situation" and to support efforts to disrupt the activities of Haitian gangs.

Canada said in a statement that it supports the Haitian National Police and deployed a Royal Canadian Air Force (RCAF) CP-140 Aurora long-range patrol aircraft in response to Haiti's request for support as violence continues to escalate in the country.

Haitian gangs have expanded their territory since the 2021 assassination of then-President Jovenel Moise. The resulting violence has left much of the country off-limits to the government and led to routine gun battles with police. Haiti is expected to be on the agenda when U.S. President Joe Biden visits Canada next month.

The Canadian patrol aircraft will provide intelligence, surveillance, and reconnaissance capability to bolster efforts to establish and maintain peace and will remain in the region "for a number of days," the Canadian government said.

In October, the United Nations suggested a "rapid action force" be sent to Haiti to combat escalating violence from armed gangs whose turf battles have left hundreds dead and thousands displaced.

But many have expressed skepticism, citing abuses from past missions and questioning a force backing the administration of Prime Minister Ariel Henry, which has been without democratically elected representatives since early January.

Most countries have been wary of sending troops, though nearby Jamaica has said it would be willing to participate and El Salvador has offered "technical assistance".

Around seven in 10 people in Haiti back proposed creation of an international force to help the national police fight violence from armed gangs, according to a survey carried out in January.

(Reporting by Kanishka Singh in Washington; Editing by Lisa Shumaker)


Amid crisis, Haitians find solace in an unlikely place: soup





Clients eat soup joumou at a restaurant in the Delmas district of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, Sunday, Feb. 5, 2023. Soup joumou, also known as “independence soup,” is traditionally eaten on Sunday mornings, and on Haitian Independence Day in early January. (AP Photo/Odelyn Joseph)

MEGAN JANETSKY
Sun, February 5, 2023 at 1:34 PM MST·4 min read

PORT-AU-PRINCE, Haiti (AP) — For Wilfred Cadet, buying soup on Sunday is the equivalent of going to church.

Seated on plastic chairs next to a street food stand tucked in an alleyway, the 47-year-old Haitian slurps orange-colored soup out of a metal bowl next to his 9-year-old son.

Haitians mill past them cradling larger plastic containers, each eager to get a giant spoonful of the stew boiling in two human-sized pots behind them.

Made of pumpkin, beef, carrots, cabbage – ingredients produced on the island – soup joumou is a cultural staple in Haiti.

And in a moment of deepening crisis in the Caribbean nation, it’s one of the few points of enduring national pride.

To this day, when you mention the soup, Haitians are quick to crack a smile.

“It’s our tradition, our culture. It makes people proud. No matter what happens (in Haiti), the soup is going to stay around,” said Cadet.

During the colonial period, slaves were banned from eating the spicy dish, and would have to prepare it for French slave owners.

But Haitians claimed soup joumou as their own in 1804 when they staged one of the biggest and most successful slave rebellions in the Western Hemisphere.

The uprising put an end to slavery in Haiti far before much of the region, and the dish gained the nickname “independence soup.”

In 2021 – the same year the country spiraled into chaos following the assassination of its president – the soup was added to UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage List, the first cuisine Haiti has on the list.

“It is a celebratory dish, deeply rooted in Haitian identity, and its preparation promotes social cohesion and belonging among communities,” reads the UNESCO entry.

It’s traditionally eaten on Sunday mornings, and on Haitian Independence Day in early January.

That’s when customers begin filing through a pair of black metal gates into 50-year-old Marie France Damas’ makeshift restaurant at 7:30 a.m.

Tucked behind rows of parked cars, a brick wall with a painted sign reading “Every Sunday: Soup Joumou” and a pile of local pumpkins, Damas labors away over her two big pots just like she has for the past 18 years.

Her husband weaves between plastic tables taking orders while her daughter chops vegetables behind her. It’s a family affair, but Damas is clear.

“I’m the boss of the soup,” she said with a grin.

The business has allowed her to put her children through school and give a good life to her family in a place with some of the highest poverty and unemployment rates in the region.

To each Haitian, the cuisine means something different.

For Cadet and his son, it represents one moment of an escape from the day-to-day pandemonium of Haiti’s capital, Port-au-Prince.

It has also allowed Cadet to pass on a cherished part of Haitian culture at a time when they’re slowly fading away. Celebrations like Carnival that once took center stage on the island have withered due to deep gang violence tearing apart the nation.

“The violence in the country is making everyone leave, and over time, we’re going to lose a lot of cultural traditions,” Cadet said. “My son, of course, (will go). Right now he doesn’t like Haiti.”

He hopes that when his son goes, he’ll remember their Sunday mornings together.

To others, like 35-year-old Maxon Sucan, it’s a way to reconnect with family and home in the countryside.

He grew up in a rural town in western Haiti in a farming family cultivating the very vegetables used to make the soup.

He came to Port-au-Prince 13 years ago to support his family, and works as a manager at a nightclub.

He would once visit his family six to eight times a year, but because of kidnappings and gang control of the countryside, he’s now unable to go home.

So Sunday mornings, he drinks the soup just like he once did as a kid, and he thinks about his daughter who he sometimes goes weeks without speaking to.

“She’s three years old and it hurts me that I can’t see her,” Sucan said. “(When I eat soup joumou) I remember my family.”

As he gets ready to leave the restaurant alone, cradling a large Tupperware filled with steaming soup, he pauses.

“When I go home today, I’ll call her. And when I do, I’ll ask if she ate the soup,” he adds.

————

Associated Press journalist Evens Sanon contributed to this report from Port-au-Prince.
Bendable concrete and other CO2-infused cement mixes could dramatically cut global emissions


Victor C. Li, James R. Rice Distinguished University Professor of Engineering, University of Michigan, 

Lucca Henrion, Research Fellow at the Global CO2 Initiative, University of Michigan,

 Volker Sick, Arthur F. Thurnau Professor; DTE Energy Professor of Advanced Energy Research; and Director, Global CO2 Initiative, University of Michigan, 

and Duo Zhang, Assistant Research Scientist, University of Michigan

Sun, February 5, 2023 

Bendable concrete created at the University of Michigan allows for thinner structures with less need for steel reinforcement. Joseph Xu/University of Michigan College of Engineering

One of the big contributors to climate change is right beneath your feet, and transforming it could be a powerful solution for keeping greenhouse gases out of the atmosphere.

The production of cement, the binding element in concrete, accounted for 7% of total global carbon dioxide emissions in 2018. Concrete is one of the most-used resources on Earth, with an estimated 26 billion tons produced annually worldwide. That production isn’t expected to slow down for at least two more decades.

Given the scale of the industry and its greenhouse gas emissions, technologies that can reinvent concrete could have profound impacts on climate change.

As engineers working on issues involving infrastructure and construction, we have been designing the next generation of concrete technology that can reduce infrastructure’s carbon footprint and increase durability. That includes CO2-infused concrete that locks up the greenhouse gas and can be stronger and even bendable.

The industry is ripe for dramatic change, particularly with the Biden administration promising to invest big in infrastructure projects and cut U.S. emissions at the same time. However, to put CO2 to work in concrete on a wide scale in a way that drastically cuts emissions, all of its related emissions must be taken into account.
Rethinking concrete

Concrete is made up of aggregate materials – primarily rocks and sand – along with cement and water.

Because about 80% of concrete’s carbon footprint comes from cement, researchers have been working to find substitute materials.

Industrial byproducts such as iron slag and coal fly ash are now frequently used to reduce the amount of cement needed. The resulting concrete can have significantly lower emissions because of that change. Alternative binders, such as limestone calcined clay, can also reduce cement use. One study found that using limestone and calcinated clay could reduce emissions by at least 20% while also cutting production costs.

Apart from developing blended cements, researchers and companies are focusing on ways to use captured CO2 as an ingredient in the concrete itself, locking it away and preventing it from entering the atmosphere. CO2 can be added in the form of aggregates – or injected during mixing. Carbonation curing, also known as CO2 curing, can also be used after concrete has been cast.

These processes turn CO2 from a gas to a mineral, creating solid carbonates that may also improve the strength of concrete. That means structures may need less cement, reducing the amount of related emissions. Companies such as CarbonCure and Solidia have developed technologies to use these processes for concrete poured at construction sites and in precast concrete, such as cinder blocks and other construction materials.

Carbon dioxide can make up a significant percentage of concrete mass. Lucca Henrion/University of Michigan, CC BY-ND

The Kitahama building, the tallest residential tower in Japan, is built with bendable concrete for earthquake resistance. MC681/Wikimedia Commons

At the University of Michigan, we are working on composites that produce a bendable concrete material that allows thinner, less brittle structures that require less steel reinforcement, further reducing related carbon emissions. The material can be engineered to maximize the amount of CO2 it can store by using smaller particles that readily react with CO2, turning it to mineral.

The CO2-based bendable concrete can be used for general buildings, water and energy infrastructure, as well as transportation infrastructure. Bendable concrete was used in the 61-story Kitahama tower in Osaka, Japan, and roadway bridge slabs in Ypsilanti, Michigan.
The challenge of lifecycle emissions

These cutting-edge technologies can start addressing concrete infrastructure’s carbon footprint, but barriers still exist.

In a study published Feb. 8, three of us looked at the lifecycle emissions from infusing CO2 into concrete and found that estimates did not always account for emissions from CO2 capture, transportation and use. With colleagues, we came up with strategies for ensuring that carbon curing has a strong emissions benefit.

Overall, we recommend developing a standard CO2 curing protocol. Lab experiments show that CO2 curing can improve concrete’s strength and durability, but results vary with specific curing procedures and concrete mixes. Research can improve the conditions and the timing of steps in the curing process to increase concrete’s performance. Electricity use – the largest emissions source during curing – can also be reduced by streamlining the process and possibly by using waste heat.

Advanced concrete mixes, bendable concrete in particular, already begin to address these issues by increasing durability.

Merging infrastructure and climate policy

In 2020, a wide range of companies announced steps to reduce their emissions. However, government investment and procurement policies are still needed to transform the construction industry.

Local governments are taking the first steps. “Low embodied carbon concrete” rules and projects to reduce the amount of cement in concrete have cropped up around the country, including in Marin County, California; Hastings-on-Hudson, New York; and a sidewalk pilot in Portland, Oregon.

In New York and New Jersey, lawmakers have proposed state-level policies that would provide price discounts in the bidding process to proposals with the lowest emissions from concrete. These policies could serve as a blueprint for reducing carbon emissions from concrete production and other building materials.

A lot of North American infrastructure is in a state of disrepair
. Achim Herring/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY

Nationally, the crumbling of federally managed infrastructure has been a steadily growing crisis. The Biden administration could start to address those problems, as well as climate change, and create jobs through a strategic infrastructure program.

Secretary of Transportation Pete Buttigieg recently declared that there were “enormous opportunities for job creation, equity and climate achievement when it comes to advancing America’s infrastructure.” Policies that elevate low-carbon concrete to a nationwide climate solution could follow.

This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit news site dedicated to sharing ideas from academic experts. 

It was written by: Lucca Henrion, University of Michigan; Duo Zhang, University of Michigan; Victor C. Li, University of Michigan, and Volker Sick, University of Michigan


Read more:

Biden plans to fight climate change in a way no U.S. president has done before


What is climate-ready infrastructure? Some cities are starting to adapt


6 rules for rebuilding infrastructure in an era of ‘unprecedented’ weather events

Lucca Henrion works as a research fellow in the Global CO2 Initiative at the University of Michigan. He is a volunteer with the Open Air Collective.

Victor C. Li receives research funding from the Department of Energy (ARPA-E) and the Aramco Company. He is the James R. Rice Distinguished University Professor at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Professor Li directs the Center for Low Carbon Built Environment (CLCBE) at the University of Michigan.

Volker Sick receives funding from the US Department of Energy and the Global CO2 Initiative at the University of Michigan.

Duo Zhang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
CARRYING TOXIC DANGEROUS GOODS
50-car train derailment causes big fire, evacuations in Ohio





In this photo provided by Melissa Smith, a train fire is seen from her farm in East Palestine, Ohio, Friday, Feb. 3, 2023. A train derailment and resulting large fire prompted an evacuation order in the Ohio village near the Pennsylvania state line on Friday night, covering the area in billows of smoke lit orange by the flames below. (Melissa Smith via AP)

Sat, February 4, 2023 

EAST PALESTINE, Ohio (AP) — A freight train derailment in Ohio near the Pennsylvania state line left a mangled and charred mass of boxcars and flames Saturday as authorities launched a federal investigation and monitored air quality from the various hazardous chemicals in the train.

About 50 cars derailed in East Palestine at about 9 p.m. EST Friday as a train was carrying a variety of products from Madison, Illinois, to Conway, Pennsylvania, rail operator Norfolk Southern said Saturday. There was no immediate information about what caused the derailment. No injuries or damage to structures were reported.

“The post-derailment fire spanned about the length of the derailed train cars,” Michael Graham, a member of the National Transportation Safety Board, told reporters Saturday evening. “The fire has since reduced in intensity, but remains active and the two main tracks are still blocked.”

Norfolk Southern said 20 of the more than 100 cars were classified as carrying hazardous materials — defined as cargo that could pose any kind of danger “including flammables, combustibles, or environmental risks.” Graham said 14 cars carrying vinyl chloride were involved in the derailment “and have been exposed to fire,” and at least one “is intermittently releasing the contents of the car through a pressure release device as designed.”

“At this time we are working to verify which hazardous materials cars, if any, have been breached,” he said. The Environmental Protection Agency and Norfolk Southern were continuing to monitor air quality, and investigators would begin their on-scene work “once the scene is safe and secure,” he said.

Vinyl chloride, used to make the polyvinyl chloride hard plastic resin used in a variety of plastic products, is associated with increased risk of liver cancer and other cancers, according to the federal government’s National Cancer Institute. Federal officials said they were also concerned about other possibly hazardous materials.

Mayor Trent Conaway, who earlier declared a state of emergency citing the “train derailment with hazardous materials,” said air quality monitors throughout a one-mile zone ordered evacuated had shown no dangerous readings.

Fire Chief Keith Drabick said officials were most concerned about the vinyl chloride and referenced one car containing that chemical but said safety features on that car were still functioning. Emergency crews would keep their distance until Norfolk Southern officials told them it was safe to approach, Drabick said.

“When they say it’s time to go in and put the fire out, my guys will go in and put the fire out,” he said. He said there were also other chemicals in the cars and officials would seek a list from Norfolk Southern and federal authorities.

Graham said the safety board’s team would concentrate on gathering “perishable” information about the derailment of the train, which had 141 load cars, nine empty cars and three locomotives. State police had aerial footage and the locomotives had forward-facing image recorders as well as data recorders that could provide such information as train speed, throttle position and brake applications, he said. Train crew and other witnesses would also be interviewed, Graham said.

Firefighters were pulled from the immediate area and unmanned streams were used to protect some areas including businesses that might also have contained materials of concern, officials said. Freezing temperatures in the single digits complicated the response as trucks pumping water froze, Conaway said.

East Palestine officials said 68 agencies from three states and a number of counties responded to the derailment, which happened about 51 miles (82 kilometers) northwest of Pittsburgh and within 20 miles (32 kilometers) of the tip of West Virginia’s Northern Panhandle.

Conaway said surveillance from the air showed “an entanglement of cars" with fires still burning and heavy smoke continuing to billow from the scene as officials tried to determine what was in each car from the labels outside. The evacuation order and shelter-in-place warnings would remain in effect until further notice, officials said.

Village officials warned residents that they might hear explosions due to the fire. They said drinking water was safe despite discoloration due to the volume being pumped the fight the blaze. Some runoff had been detected in streams but rail officials were working to stem that and prevent it from going downstream, officials said.

Officials repeatedly urged people not to come to the scene, saying they were endangering not only themselves but emergency responders.

The evacuation area covered 1,500 to 2,000 of the town's 4,800 to 4,900 residents, but it was unknown how many were actually affected, Conaway said. A high school and community center were opened, and the few dozen residents sheltering at the high school included Ann McAnlis, who said a neighbor had texted her about the crash.

“She took a picture of the glow in the sky from the front porch,” McAnlis told WFMJ-TV. “That’s when I knew how substantial this was.”

Norfolk Southern opened an assistance center in the village to take information from affected residents and also said it was "supporting the efforts of the American Red Cross and their temporary community shelters through a $25,000 donation.

Elizabeth Parker Sherry said her 19-year-old son was heading to Walmart to pick up a new TV in time for the Super Bowl when he called her outside to see the flames and black smoke billowing toward their home. She said she messaged her mother to get out of her home next to the tracks, but all three of them and her daughter then had to leave her own home as crews went door-to-door to tell people to leave the evacuation zone.