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    Teenage Rapper, Rooted in Mapuche Identity, Roars for Indigenous Rights

    MC Millaray, 16, an emerging music star in Chile, uses her fierce lyrics to convey five centuries of struggles by the country’s largest Indigenous group against European colonizers.SANTIAGO, Chile — Just before taking the stage, the teenage Indigenous rapper took a deep breath and composed herself, eyes closed.Her father reached over to pick a sequin from his daughter’s eyelid, but the 16-year-old recoiled with an embarrassed shrug. Then Millaray Jara Collio, or MC Millaray as the young rapper calls herself, spun away and exploded onto the stage with an animated rap about the presence of Chile’s military in the territory of the Mapuche, the country’s largest Indigenous group.MC Millaray’s impassioned performance was delivered at a campaign event in Santiago, Chile’s capital, a few months ago, and just one week before the country would vote on a new constitution. If approved, the constitution would have guaranteed some of the most far-reaching rights for Indigenous people anywhere in the world.Although she was too young to vote in the referendum, MC Millaray was one of hundreds of artists who campaigned in favor of the new charter.“I’m two people in one,” she said after her performance. “Sometimes I feel like a little girl — I play, I have fun and I laugh. Onstage, I say everything through rap. It liberates me: When I get a microphone, I’m a different person.”The new constitution — which would have empowered Chile’s more than two million Indigenous people, 80 percent of whom are Mapuche, to govern their own territories, have more judicial autonomy and be recognized as distinct nations within Chile — was soundly defeated in September.But in the wake of that loss, MC Millaray, an emerging star with more than 25,000 followers on Instagram, is more determined than ever to convey five centuries of Mapuche struggles against European colonizers.“This is not the end,” she said defiantly in the vote’s aftermath. “It’s the beginning of something new that we can build together.”MC Millaray performing with her father, Alexis Jara, during a political rally in August in support of a new constitution.MC Millaray greeting a Mapuche elder after her performance at the rally.Slipping between Spanish and Mapudungun, the Indigenous language she would speak with her maternal great-grandmother, MC Millaray articulates that story with fast-paced, lyrical fury.Her songs decry environmental injustices, yearn for the protection of childhood innocence and honor fallen Mapuche. Above all, she calls for the return of Mapuche ancestral lands, known as Wallmapu, which stretch from Chile’s Pacific seaboard and over the Andes to Argentina’s Atlantic coast.​​Her single “Mi Ser Mapuche,” or “My Mapuche Self,” which came out this year, combines trumpets with the “afafan” — a Mapuche war cry. She sings:“More than 500 years without giving up the fight; there are lands we’ve recovered, but they’re ours, our home; we keep on resisting, they won’t defeat us.”Since the arrival of Spanish conquistadors in the 1500s, the land once controlled by the Mapuche has been substantially whittled down across centuries of invasion, forced removals and purchases. The loss of traditional land accelerated in the 19th century when Chile enticed European migrants to settle its south, promising to give them lands it claimed were unoccupied, but often were populated by the Mapuche.For some, it is Chile’s greatest unsettled debt. To others, it’s a centuries-old impasse without a clear solution.“For me it would be a dream to recover the territory,” MC Millaray said. “I want to give my life to the ‘weichán,’” she said, referring to the fight to regain Wallmapu and traditional Mapuche values. “I want to defend what’s ours.”Millaray, which means “flower of gold” in Mapudungun, grew up with her younger brother and sister in La Pincoya, a hardscrabble barrio on the northern fringes of Santiago, where the walls are splashed with colorful graffiti, and hip-hop and reggaeton blare from the ramshackle homes sprawling up the hillsides.The performance of a traditional Mapuche dance, the “purrun,” at a political rally in August.Carrying a flag with the Mapuche star in Santiago. The area has a strong rap tradition. In the 1980s the Panteras Negras, one of Chile’s first hip-hop groups, formed in nearby Renca, and Andi Millanao, better known as Portavoz, one of Chile’s best-known hip-hop stars, first penned his firebrand political rap in neighboring Conchalí.As a child, Millaray said she would look forward more than anything to traveling south each summer to the Carilao community in the municipality of Perquenco to visit her maternal great-grandmother, spending afternoons splashing in a nearby river or collecting maqui berries in a jar.“When I get to Wallmapu, I feel free and at peace,” she said. “I would learn about what I was and what I represent, what runs through my veins,” she added, referring to the time she spent with her great-grandmother. “I realized how little I knew my fight.”At home in her barrio in Santiago, it was music that most captured her attention, and she would attend the hip-hop workshops that her parents — two rappers who met at a throwdown in La Pincoya — would run for local children. “I grew up in a rap family,” said Millaray. “They were my inspiration.”One afternoon when she was 5, her father, Alexis Jara, now 40, was rehearsing for a show, with his daughter beside him on the bed mouthing along. When he performed that evening, Mr. Jara spotted his daughter sobbing in the crowd, feeling left out.He pulled her up onstage and, sniffling and puffy-eyed, “She transformed — pah! pah! — and started rapping with such force that she stole the limelight,” her father remembered. As her tears vanished, the 5-year-old addressed the crowd: “I represent La Pincoya, I want hands in the air!”“From that day on we never got her down from the stage,” her father said. “Now everything has turned on its head — it’s me asking to join her!”Awaiting the results of the constitutional referendum in September. The new constitution was rejected by 62 percent of voters.A protest in Santiago after the results were announced. By the time she was 7, Millaray had written and recorded her first album, “Pequeña Femenina,” or “Little Feminine,” which she burned onto CDs to sell on public buses while out busking with her father.When they had earned enough money, the two would jump down the back steps of the bus and take the money to play arcade games or buy candy.They still perform together — Mr. Jara an energetic whirl of braids and baggy clothing, his daughter calmer and more precise with her words. “Tic Tac,” the first song they wrote in tandem, remains in their repertoire.It was while she was still in elementary school that she was given the jolt that would strengthen her resolve to take up her ancestors’ fight in her music, and life.In November 2018, her history teacher told the class that Camilo Catrillanca — an unarmed Mapuche man who was shot and killed that month by police in the Temucuicui community in the south of the country — had deserved his fate.“I couldn’t stay quiet,” she remembered. “I stood up, burning with rage, and said: ‘No, nobody deserves to die, and certainly not for defending their territory.’ In that moment I defended what I thought, and it changed me.”At the end of 2021 and in the first half of 2022, the conflict in the Mapuche territories, where a state of emergency has been regularly renewed by governments on both the right and left, was at one of its most tense periods in decades.In addition to peaceful sit-ins by Mapuche activists on privately owned land and at regional government buildings, there were dozens of cases of arson, responsibility for which was claimed by Mapuche resistance groups, as well as attacks on forestry companies.At least seven killings were recorded in the conflict area in 2022, with the victims including both Mapuche activists, like a man on his way to a land occupation, and forestry workers.In March, when Chile’s interior minister visited the community where Mr. Catrillanca was from, she was greeted with the crackle of gunfire and quickly bundled away in a van.When she is not performing, MC Millaray is known as Millaray Jara Collio.MC Millaray, in traditional Mapuche dress, talking to her mother, Claudia Collio, before going onstage at a political rally.In sometimes violent protests against economic inequality that exploded across Chile in October of 2019 — set off by a 4-cent increase in subway fares — Mapuche symbols and slogans were ubiquitous.In Santiago’s main square, demonstrators were greeted by a wooden “chemamüll” statue, traditionally carved by the Mapuche to represent the dead. At the protests, Millaray would rap or stroll among protesters with her hand-painted blue flag bearing the “Wünelfe,” an eight-point star sacred in Mapuche iconography.“We’re more visible now than we have been in my lifetime,” said Daniela Millaleo, 37, a singer-songwriter from Santiago whom MC Millaray counts among her greatest inspirations. “Before it would just be the Mapuche who marched for our rights, but now so many people feel our pain.”After her grueling schedule of performing at campaign events on behalf of the failed constitutional effort — as well as a trip to New York to sing in Times Square as part of Climate Week NYC— MC Millaray is now focusing on recording new material.“I want to reach more people, but I want every verse to contain a message — I don’t want to make music for the sake of it,” she explained. “It doesn’t matter what the style is, I’m always asking myself what more I can say.”“I want to reach more people, but I want every verse to contain a message — I don’t want to make music for the sake of it,” said MC Millaray. 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    Putin buscaba lealtad y la encontró en África

    BANGUI, República Centroafricana — En marzo, cuando la invasión rusa de Ucrania iniciaba su tercera semana, un diplomático ruso que se encontraba a unos 4830 kilómetros de distancia, en la República Centroafricana, hizo una visita inusual a la presidenta del máximo tribunal de ese país. Su mensaje fue contundente: el presidente pro-Kremlin del país debe permanecer en el cargo de manera indefinida.Para eso, el diplomático, Yevgeny Migunov, segundo secretario de la embajada rusa, argumentó que el tribunal debía abolir la restricción constitucional que limita a dos los mandatos presidenciales. Insistió en que el presidente del país, Faustin-Archange Touadéra, quien está en su segundo mandato y se ha rodeado de mercenarios rusos, debía permanecer en el cargo por el bien del país.“Me quedé absolutamente atónita”, recordó Danièle Darlan, de 70 años, quien en ese entonces era la presidenta del tribunal. “Les advertí que nuestra inestabilidad provenía de presidentes que querían hacer eternos sus mandatos”.El ruso no se inmutó. Siete meses más tarde, en octubre, Darlan fue destituida por decreto presidencial con el fin de abrir el camino a un referéndum para rescribir la Constitución, aprobada en 2016, y abolir la limitación de mandatos. Eso consolidaría lo que un embajador occidental denominó el estatus de la República Centroafricana como “Estado vasallo” del Kremlin.Con su invasión de Ucrania, el presidente de Rusia, Vladimir Putin, desató un nuevo desorden en el mundo. Ucrania presenta su estrategia contra el vasallaje ruso como una lucha por la libertad universal, y esa causa ha resonado en Estados Unidos y Europa. Sin embargo, en la República Centroafricana, Rusia ya se ha salido con la suya, con escasa reacción occidental, y en la capital, Bangui, ya se exhibe un tipo diferente de victoria rusa.Mercenarios rusos del mismo tenebroso Grupo Wagner, que ahora lucha en Ucrania, dominan la República Centroafricana, un país rico en oro y diamantes. Su impunidad parece total mientras se trasladan en vehículos sin identificación, con pasamontañas que les cubren la mitad del rostro y portando de manera abierta rifles automáticos. Los grandes intereses mineros y madereros que ahora controla Wagner son razón suficiente para explicar por qué Rusia no quiere amenazar a un gobierno complaciente.Desde Bangui, donde las fuerzas de Wagner roban y amenazan, hasta Bria, en el centro del país, y Mbaiki, en el sur, vi mercenarios de Moscú por todas partes durante una estancia de dos semanas y media, a pesar de las presiones para vayan a combatir en Ucrania.“Amenazan la estabilidad, socavan la buena gobernanza, despojan a los países de sus riquezas minerales, violan los derechos humanos”, declaró el secretario de Estado estadounidense, Antony Blinken, sobre los operativos de Wagner durante una cumbre de líderes de Estados Unidos y África celebrada en Washington a mediados de diciembre.Sin embargo, aunque se les teme, a menudo los rusos son recibidos como una presencia más eficaz en el mantenimiento de una paz frágil, a diferencia de los más de 14.500 cascos azules de las fuerzas de paz de las Naciones Unidas que se encuentran en este país devastado por la guerra desde 2014. Como en otros lugares del mundo en desarrollo, Occidente parece haber perdido el corazón y la mente de los ciudadanos. El enfoque del presidente de Estados Unidos, Joe Biden, para esta época —la lucha entre la democracia y la autocracia en ascenso— resulta demasiado binario para una época de desafíos complejos. A pesar de la guerra en Ucrania, incluso debido a ella, los centroafricanos se muestran intensamente escépticos ante las lecciones sobre los “valores” occidentales.La invasión de Ucrania de Putin y la espiral inflacionista han hecho más desesperada la complicada situación de esta nación sin salida al mar. Los precios de productos básicos como el aceite de cocina han subido un 50 por ciento o más. La gasolina ahora se vende en bidones o botellas de contrabando, pues las gasolineras carecen de ellos. El hambre está más extendida, en parte porque las agencias de la ONU a veces carecen de combustible para repartir alimentos.Sin embargo, muchos centroafricanos no culpan a Rusia.La invasión de Ucrania por el presidente Vladimir Putin ha hecho más desesperada una situación que ya lo era, pero muchos centroafricanos no culpan a Rusia.Mercenarios rusos comprando en octubre en el Bangui Mall, un lujoso supermercado utilizado sobre todo por el personal de embajadas y organizaciones no gubernamentales con sede en el país.Una iglesia ortodoxa rusa en BanguiCansados de la hipocresía y las promesas vacías de Occidente, enojados por la indiferencia que la guerra en África suscita en las capitales occidentales en comparación con la guerra en Ucrania, muchas de las personas que conocí se inclinaban por apoyar a Putin frente a sus antiguos colonizadores de París. Si la brutalidad rusa en Bucha o Mariúpol, Ucrania, horroriza a Occidente, la brutalidad rusa en la República Centroafricana se percibe de manera amplia como una ayuda para apaciguar un conflicto que ya dura una década.África representará una cuarta parte de la humanidad en 2050. China extiende su influencia mediante enormes inversiones, construcciones y préstamos. Biden convocó la Cumbre de Líderes África-Estados Unidos “para construir sobre nuestros valores compartidos” y anunció 15.000 millones de dólares en nuevos acuerdos comerciales, mientras Occidente se esfuerza por ponerse al día y superar un legado de colonialismo.La Rusia de Putin, por el contrario, nunca construye un puente, sino que es la maestra de los despiadados servicios de protección, el saqueo y la propaganda. Gana amigos a través del poder duro, ahora extendido a más de una decena de países africanos, incluidos Mali y Sudán. Como en Siria, su disposición a utilizar la fuerza garantiza el resultado que busca.En marzo, solo 28 de los 54 países africanos votaron en las Naciones Unidas para condenar la invasión rusa de Ucrania, la misma escasa mayoría que posteriormente votó para condenar la anexión rusa de cuatro regiones ucranianas, lo que sugiere una creciente reticencia a aceptar un enfoque estadounidense de lo que está bien y lo que está mal.“Cuando tu casa está ardiendo, no te importa el color del agua que usas para apagar el fuego”, dijo Honoré Bendoit, subprefecto de Bria, capital regional, a casi 450 kilómetros al noreste de Bangui. “Tenemos calma gracias a los rusos. Son violentos y eficientes”. More

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    Putin Wants Fealty, and He’s Found It in Africa

    BANGUI, Central African Republic — In early March, as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine entered its third week, a Russian diplomat nearly 3,000 miles away in the Central African Republic paid an unusual visit to the head of this country’s top court. His message was blunt: The country’s pro-Kremlin president must remain in office, indefinitely.To do this, the diplomat, Yevgeny Migunov, the second secretary at the Russian Embassy, argued that the court should abolish the constitutional restriction limiting a president to two terms. He insisted that President Faustin-Archange Touadéra, who is in his second term and surrounds himself with Russian mercenaries, should stay on, for the good of the country.“I was absolutely astonished,” recalled Danièle Darlan, 70, then the court’s president, describing for the first time the meeting on March 7. “I warned them that our instability stemmed from presidents wanting to make their rule eternal.”The Russian was unmoved. Seven months later, in October, Ms. Darlan was ousted by presidential decree in order to open the way for a referendum to rewrite the Constitution, only adopted in 2016, and abolish term limits. This would effectively cement what one Western ambassador called the Central African Republic’s status as a “vassal state” of the Kremlin.With his invasion of Ukraine, President Vladimir V. Putin of Russia unleashed a new disorder on the world. Ukraine has portrayed its fight against becoming another Russian vassal as one for universal freedom, and the cause has resonated in the United States and Europe. But in the Central African Republic, Russia already has its way, with scant Western reaction, and in the flyblown mayhem of its capital, Bangui, a different kind of Russian victory is already on display.Russian mercenaries with the same shadowy Wagner Group now fighting in Ukraine bestride the Central African Republic, a country rich in gold and diamonds. Their impunity appears total as they move in unmarked vehicles, balaclavas covering half their faces and openly carrying automatic rifles. The large mining and timber interests that Wagner now controls are reason enough to explain why Russia wants no threat to a compliant government.From Bangui itself, where Wagner forces steal and threaten, to Bria in the center of the country, to Mbaiki in the south, I saw Moscow’s mercenaries everywhere during a two-and-a-half-week stay, despite pressure on them to rotate to fight in Ukraine.“They threaten stability, they undermine good governance, they rob countries of mineral wealth, they violate human rights,” Secretary of State Antony J. Blinken said of Wagner operatives last week during a U.S.-Africa Leaders Summit in Washington.Yet, although feared, the Russians are often welcomed as a more effective presence in keeping a fragile peace than the more than 14,500 blue-helmeted United Nations peacekeepers in this war-torn country since 2014. As elsewhere in the developing world, the West has seemingly lost hearts and minds here. President Biden’s framework for this era — the battle between democracy and rising autocracy — comes across as too binary for a time of complex challenges. Despite the war in Ukraine, even because of it, Central Africans are intensely skeptical of lessons on Western “values.”Mr. Putin’s invasion of Ukraine and the inflationary spiral it has spawned has made a desperate situation more desperate in this landlocked nation. Prices for staples like cooking oil are up by 50 percent or more. Gasoline is now sold in smuggled canisters or bottles, as gas stations have none. Hunger is more widespread, in part because U.N. agencies sometimes lack the fuel to deliver food.Yet many Central Africans do not blame Russia.President Vladimir V. Putin’s invasion of Ukraine has made a desperate situation more desperate, yet many Central Africans do not blame Russia.Russian mercenaries shopping in October at Bangui Mall, a fancy supermarket used mostly by embassies’ staff and nongovernmental organizations based in the country.A Russian Orthodox Church in Bangui.Tired of Western hypocrisy and empty promises, stung by the shrug that war in Africa elicits in Western capitals as compared with war in Ukraine, many people I met were inclined to support Mr. Putin over their former colonizers in Paris. If Russian brutality in Bucha or Mariupol appalls the West, Russian brutality in the Central African Republic is widely perceived to have helped quiet a decade-old conflict.Africa will account for a quarter of humanity by 2050. China spreads its influence through huge investments, construction and loans. Mr. Biden convened the U.S.-Africa Leaders Summit “to build on our shared values” and announced $15 billion in new business deals, as the West scrambles to play catch-up and overcome a legacy of colonialism.Mr. Putin’s Russia, by contrast, never builds a bridge, but is the master of pitiless protection services, plunder and propaganda. It wins friends through hard power, now extended to more than a dozen African countries, including Mali and Sudan. As in Syria, its readiness to use force secures the outcome it seeks.In March, only 28 of Africa’s 54 countries voted at the United Nations to condemn the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the same slim majority that subsequently voted to condemn Russia’s annexation of four Ukrainian regions, suggesting a growing reluctance to accept an American narrative of right and wrong.“When your house is burning, you don’t mind the color of the water you use to put out the fire,” said Honoré Bendoit, the subprefect of Bria, a regional capital, about 280 miles (or a six-day drive on what passes for roads here) northeast of Bangui. “We have calm thanks to the Russians. They are violent and they are efficient.” More

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    As Tunisia Drifts Farther From Democracy, Voters Shun Election

    Turnout in Saturday’s parliamentary elections was just over 11 percent, reflecting deep skepticism that politics can solve the North African nation’s grave governmental and economic crises.A feeble turnout in Tunisia’s inconclusive parliamentary elections over the weekend drew opposition calls for the country’s strongman president to step down, with critics calling it yet another step in the North African’s nation descent from the only democracy to emerge from the Arab Spring uprisings to an increasingly autocratic state.Just over 11 percent of eligible voters cast ballots in the first election since President Kais Saied orchestrated a sweeping power grab in 2021, suspending the Parliament and sidelining political parties. As Tunisia drifts farther and farther from its decade-long experiment with democracy, opponents say the president now relies on elections only to add a sheen of legitimacy to his actions.“No one can find a single party of importance across the political spectrum or a civil society organization that sees Saturday’s election as anything other than a sham vote to create a Potemkin parliament,” said Monica Marks, an assistant professor of Middle East politics at New York University Abu Dhabi.The largest opposition coalition, the Salvation Front, called for protests and sit-ins, saying the low turnout indicated that Mr. Saied lacked legitimacy and should leave office. Abir Moussi, the head of the opposition Free Constitutional Party, also called on the president to step down, saying that the vast majority of Tunisians had “rejected Saied’s plan.”The election was the first step in reinstating the Parliament, but with drastically reduced powers that will transform it essentially into an advisory body. It cannot fire the government or remove the president, and bills that Mr. Saied presents will take priority over those proposed by lawmakers. He also barred political parties from participating in elections, making it difficult to decipher the political leanings of the mostly unknown candidates who won seats.Ms. Marks described the candidates that were able to run under the new election law “a shambolic grab bag of individual esoteric loyalists, jobless people who simply wanted a salary and random community members.”President Kais Saied preparing to cast his ballot at a polling station on Saturday. Mr. Saied was elected in 2019 and concentrated power in his own hands in 2021, sidelining Parliament and political parties.Tunisian Presidential Press ServiceShe called Mr. Saied’s ruling style “adhocracy,” meaning he makes it up as he goes along, with minimal checks and balances.The election commission announced late Monday the victors in races for only 23 of the body’s 161 seats; most of the remainder will be decided in runoff elections expected next month.The election came just days after President Biden hosted leaders from across Africa in Washington to declare the United States’ commitment to the continent and voice his support for democracy.Mr. Saied attended the summit and roundly dismissed American criticism of his power grab in a meeting with the editorial board of The Washington Post. He blamed “fake news” for creating the sense that he is an autocrat and accused unidentified “foreign forces” of supporting his political foes.“There are so many enemies of democracy in Tunisia who want to do everything they can to torpedo the country’s democratic and social life from within,” Mr. Saied said.The Biden administration drew some criticism over its sanguine reaction to the election. Ned Price, a State Department spokesman, called it “an essential initial step toward restoring the country’s democratic trajectory.”Ms. Marks said on Twitter that the U.S. statement “absurdly dubbed the sham ballot ‘essential step’ to return to democracy.”The electoral commission said on Monday that only 11.2 percent of eligible voters had cast ballots in what was the country’s fourth election since Tunisians toppled their longtime dictator in a 2011 popular uprising, which set off the wave of Arab Spring revolts across the Middle East.That was the lowest participation level since the revolution and analysts attributed it to dwindling faith among voters in democracy itself. It was even below the roughly 30 percent turnout for a July constitutional referendum that enshrined the expansion of Mr. Saied’s powers and well below the participation rate in the 2019 presidential vote that brought him to power, which was about 50 percent. In 2014, about two-thirds of registered voters participated in parliamentary elections.The 23 confirmed winners included Ibrahim Bouderbala, the former head of the Tunisian Bar Association and a vocal supporter of Mr. Saied. Three women also won seats.When the Arab Spring revolts toppled leaders across the Arab world, Tunisia was lauded as the only one to emerge from the tumult as a multiparty democracy. But that legacy has fallen apart in recent years, as economic distress has spread and Mr. Saied has concentrated power in his hands, all but killing the country’s young democracy.After being elected by a large margin in 2019, Mr. Saied, formerly a little known constitutional law professor, suspended Parliament in 2021 in a move that many Tunisians welcomed, hoping it was a step toward curbing corruption and reviving the economy.A rally against Mr. Saied in Tunis this month organized by the opposition Salvation Front. The coalition called for protests and sit-ins after this weekend’s vote.Fethi Belaid/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesBut change has not come, with poverty spreading and increasing numbers of Tunisians attempting often-lethal boat trips to Europe in hopes of starting new lives. Mr. Saied has ruled by presidential decree, pushed through a new constitution that grants him greater powers and issued the electoral law that governed Saturday’s election.That law banned political parties from the electoral process, instead allowing voters to choose individual candidates in each district. It also did away with quotas for women and young candidates, provisions added after the revolution.Contributing to the low turnout was the absence of activities by political parties — which many Tunisians despise as corrupt and responsible for the country’s declining fortunes. The major parties boycotted the referendum this year that made Mr. Saied’s constitution into law.Also keeping people away were deep economic woes and a growing sense among voters that it would make little difference who won anyway.Mr. Saied’s supporters argued that the new electoral law would increase accountability by allowing voters to chose their representatives directly and not only as members of party lists.But critics said that keeping the parties out meant that only candidates wealthy enough to finance their own campaigns would be able to run.Analysts had low expectations for the newly chosen Parliament in any case, saying the lack of organized parties to set an agenda would leave it fractured and chaotic, and likely to follow Mr. Saied’s lead on any legislation.Ben Hubbard More

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    In Fiji’s Election, One Former Coup Leader Displaces Another

    The return of Sitiveni Rabuka paves the way for a potential pivot in a country where the United States and China are fighting for influence.Allegations of voter fraud. Threats of military intervention. A police interrogation of political leaders.Six days of turmoil over Fiji’s general election ended on Tuesday with the ousting of a 16-year strongman leader who had embraced China and eroded democratic norms in the country.After fierce negotiations to form a three-party alliance, Sitiveni Rabuka, the head of the center-right People’s Alliance, is now poised to become Fiji’s prime minister, replacing the country’s longtime leader, Frank Bainimarama.The return of Mr. Rabuka, who led the country from 1987 to 1999, would pave the way for a potential pivot by Fiji, a small but geopolitically important nation in the Pacific where the United States and China are fighting for influence.While Mr. Bainimarama aligned Fiji more closely with Beijing, Mr. Rabuka is expected to favor a stronger relationship with Australia and New Zealand, the region’s historic powerhouses and close allies to the United States. His party also ruled out a proposed security deal with Beijing, like the one signed by the Solomon Islands and China earlier this year.Mr. Rabuka, who initially contested the results after the vote last Wednesday, citing irregularities in the counting, described the outcome as the start of a new chapter for Fiji.“The people have spoken,” he said. “People have chosen. A new way, a new path, a new government.”Video footage posted on Twitter showed supporters on Tuesday at the People’s Alliance headquarters in the capital of Suva erupting in cheers, singing and applause.Outside of the South Pacific, Fiji, an island nation of about a million people, is seen as a remote vacation idyll: frangipani flowers, golden beaches, cobalt seas. But within the region, it is a critical player with a major economy and a strong military. Among its neighbors, it tends to set the tone on human rights and democratic freedoms, which in recent years have appeared under threat.Fiji’s outgoing prime minister, Frank Bainimarama, center, at a polling station in the capital last week. Mick Tsikas/EPA, via ShutterstockIt is also a country in which seemingly peaceful politics can degenerate quickly. The country experienced four coups between 1987 and 2006. Mr. Rabuka originally seized power in Fiji’s first coup, and Mr. Bainimarama in the last one.The vote this month was Fiji’s third general election since democratic voting was reintroduced to the Constitution in 2013. Turnout this year, at just over 68 percent, was the lowest in the country’s history.Speaking on Sunday, before the three-party coalition was formed, Mr. Rabuka described the results of the election as pivotal. “For those who follow, the generations to come,” he said, “they will look back at the election and say that was the turning point in Fiji’s journey.”When the final results were announced, Mr. Bainimarama’s nationalist FijiFirst party had the single largest voter share, with 26 seats in Parliament out of a possible 55. Mr. Rabuka’s People’s Alliance took 21, and its ally the National Federation Party another five. And Sodelpa, a religious Indigenous-led party, won the final three seats.Without no clear winner, it was a tight call to form a government, with the tiny party of Soldepa, taking the lead role.Sodelpa’s public list of demands was considerable. In early talks, its leaders called for a deputy prime minister role for a party member, as well as a promise to support pro-Indigenous policies, a forgiveness of some student debt and the establishment of a Fijian embassy in Jerusalem.The People’s Alliance was founded by Mr. Rabuka last year, after he walked away from Sodelpa, taking a significant portion of its support with him. That history made for a complicated dynamic: There was a natural partnership between the two parties, but antagonism between Mr. Rabuka and some of the Sodelpa members he had left behind continued to fester.In the end, 16 members of Sodelpa’s management board voted in favor of a partnership with the People’s Alliance and 14 with FijiFirst.“People have chosen a new way, a new path, and a new government,” said Biman Prasad, the leader of the National Federation Party. He added: “A new era will be starting as the new government takes on the power in this country.”Workers and supporters of the People’s Alliance Party celebrated at the party’s head office after the Social Democratic Liberal Party confirmation of support to form a new government in Suva on Tuesday.Saeed Khan/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesThe election had been messy from the start.After the first batch of votes was counted and then released hours behind schedule, the People’s Alliance party appeared to be in the lead — until the official election results app went dark for hours, in what officials described as a vote-counting anomaly. When the app began working again, the party’s lead had vanished, and Mr. Bainimarama’s party was out in front.Fijians quickly cried foul. Five political parties, including Mr. Rabuka’s, said they would call for a recount, because they had no faith in the integrity of election officials. Impartial election observers said they had not seen “significant irregularities” or any evidence of misdoing.As they prepared to contest the election results, opposition party leaders including Mr. Rabuka on Thursday asked the military to intervene in the election, as is its constitutional right.Jone Kalouniwai, the top commander, said the military would instead allow the electoral process to play out. The Fijian military “will leave it in the good hands of those responsible of the electoral process under the 2013 constitution,” he added.The next day, Mr. Rabuka was summoned by the police and interrogated for two hours about his activities over the week. He was ultimately released without being charged.Since casting his vote on Wednesday, Mr. Bainimarama has not spoken publicly and has yet to concede the election. More

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    Tunisia Heads for First Elections Since Presidential Power Grab

    Voters will choose a new Parliament, but under revised rules that vastly dilute the influence of political parties that many blame for sabotaging the North African nation’s 10-year experiment with democracy.TUNIS — Depending on whom you ask in Tunisia, Saturday’s parliamentary elections — the first since a 2021 presidential power grab that all but killed the country’s young democracy — represent either major progress or a charade.To some, the new electoral law governing the vote is an innovation that will shatter the power of the corrupt political parties that wrecked Tunisia’s economy, subverted justice and made a mockery of the country’s 10-year experiment with democracy. To others, it is the illegitimate brainchild of a president with autocratic aspirations of his own.It may be seen as delivering a group of parliamentarians perceived as far more representative of their districts than previous Tunisian assemblies, or a rubber-stamp chamber that will impose few checks on President Kais Saied’s one-man rule. It might be the next step in Mr. Saied’s plan to clean up corruption and return Tunisia to prosperity and the original goals of the 2011 revolution. Or it is the next stop on the way to looming political and economic ruin.This will be the fourth time that Tunisians have gone to the polls since overthrowing an autocrat in the 2011 revolt, which inspired the Arab Spring uprisings across the region and established the only democracy to emerge from the movement.The elections will resuscitate a body that Mr. Saied suspended in July 2021 in what growing numbers of Tunisians now call a coup, demolishing the young democracy as he began governing by presidential decree. At the time, Tunisians from all classes and regions greeted the moment with cheers and relief, hoping and believing that Mr. Saied would fulfill the revolution’s unmet promises.The president later vowed to restore the assembly as part of a series of sweeping political changes, including the drafting of a new constitution that he personally oversaw, that would put Tunisia back on track.Caught between their misgivings about the president and loathing of the political parties who oppose him, many Tunisians appear lukewarm at best on this vote. The scant interest may partly reflect the fact that Tunisians’ minds are occupied by making ends meet, not politics.But the new Parliament will look little like the one it replaces thanks to Mr. Saied’s new constitution and electoral law, which, among other changes, prevents political parties from being involved in elections. And as the economy has cratered over the past year, more Tunisians are losing faith that Mr. Saied’s project will bring about the changes they are desperate to see.A secondhand clothing stall in front of a poster of President Kais Saied in Kairouan, Tunisia, this summer. The country’s economy has been struggling, with high prices and not enough jobs.Sergey Ponomarev for The New York Times“What is happening is just a charade,” said Haifa Homri, 24, a law student who went from volunteering for Mr. Saied’s presidential campaign in 2019 to joining an anti-Saied protest of several hundred people in central Tunis last Saturday. “We can’t call them elections,” she added.“I see that the president has made promises,” she said. “But in reality, we can all see the economy is collapsing,” she added, pointing to Tunisia’s grim reality: prices too high, jobs too few, basics such as cooking oil and bottled water scarce on store shelves, and record numbers of people drowning off the coast in a desperate bid to migrate to Europe.Mr. Saied’s new electoral law, which, like all laws since July 2021, was issued by decree, removes from the electoral process the much-despised political parties that constitute some of his only organized opposition.It has voters selecting individual candidates in each district instead of a party list — a change Mr. Saied’s supporters say will buttress democratic accountability by ensuring new members of Parliament know and are known by the people they represent.All political parties are also banned from financing candidates, and there are no longer quotas for female or young candidates, which were instituted after the revolution.Those regulations have raised concerns that, far from becoming more representative of the country, Parliament will fill with men with the means to fund their own campaigns: businessmen, local notables and tribal elders. Of the 1,055 candidates running for 161 seats, just 122 are women.Such rules have led most of the major parties to boycott the elections, as they did the referendum earlier this year in which Tunisians approved Mr. Saied’s new constitution. They say the vote is illegitimate.Yet some analysts warn that sitting out the election risks ceding the entire field to Saied supporters, who include many of the candidates.Without parties to set the agenda and unite members around common causes, the new Parliament is expected to be fractured, chaotic and unproductive, offering few checks on the president’s power.Even an assembly full of political opponents would be largely helpless, as Mr. Saied’s new constitution greatly increases presidential power, reducing Parliament to an advisory role from the main force in government.Tunisians waiting to receive salaries and pensions at a post office in Tunis this summer. The government is struggling to meet a heavy debt burden and pay public salaries, among other economic problems.Sergey Ponomarev for The New York Times“So this is doomed to be a Parliament that is marginalized,” said Youssef Cherif, a political analyst who is the director of the Columbia Global Centers in Tunis. “I think people will now understand more and more that the power is in the hands of the president.”With Mr. Saied as the focus, opposition leaders defending the post-2011, pre-July 2021 order confidently predict that more Tunisians will abandon Mr. Saied as the economy degenerates. But analysts say his failure does not guarantee their success unless they can offer Tunisians a convincing alternative, a challenge for politicians whom Tunisians blame for what they call the “black decade” after the revolution.“Tunisians who are expecting their socioeconomic conditions to improve once Ennahda is pushed out of power and once Saied is able to implement his project — I think they will be disappointed, because things will not improve quickly,” Mr. Cherif said, referring to the Islamist party that dominated Parliament until July 2021.While polls have shown Mr. Saied’s support declining, the opposition parties’ numbers are far worse. Anti-government demonstrations, though growing, remain much smaller than in previous years, something analysts attribute to Mr. Saied’s enduring popularity.Though the major political parties have been stripped of power for nearly a year and a half, Mr. Saied’s supporters say those same parties are conspiring to block his changes.“Political parties are boycotting because these elections will put an end to their corruption,” said Salah Mait, an unemployed man from the capital, Tunis, who said he strongly supported Mr. Saied and his plans. “Their programs were just slogans. They just want to be in power.”Turnout has declined in every election since the revolution as faith in democracy has dwindled. The Chahed Observatory, an elections monitor, said the level of interest in the vote is the lowest in a decade, even below July’s constitutional referendum, when turnout was less than a third.In previous elections, party organizations helped boost turnout and energy. But this time, the self-funded candidates have mounted anemic campaigns, and only one candidate is on the ballot in some districts.And then there is the preoccupation with the flailing economy.Though the government has struck a preliminary deal with the International Monetary Fund for a $1.9 billion loan, economists say it will cover only a small part of the country’s needs. The government is struggling to meet a heavy debt burden, pay public salaries and keep importing basic commodities.A demonstration against Mr. Saied last week in Tunis.Fethi Belaid/Agence France-Presse — Getty ImagesThe conditions the government agreed to have drawn the ire of Tunisia’s public-sector labor union, earning Mr. Saied a powerful new opponent over the very issue on which he is most vulnerable.“The country is living through a suffocating situation and deteriorating on every level,” Noureddine Taboubi, the secretary general of the union, said in a speech to members this month. “We are going into elections without color or taste that came from a constitution that was not collaborative, not a result of consensus nor approval by the majority,” he added.“The elections are a charade,” some in the crowd began shouting.The union’s opposition has helped prevent previous Tunisian governments from pushing through the tough changes that the I.M.F. demands, such as selling off publicly owned companies and lifting subsidies on food, gas and electricity.With the economy in free fall, the drumbeat of politically motivated prosecutions and the weakening of civil liberties under Mr. Saied have drawn less attention. But the president remains steadfast against criticism.“Tunisians know that all the work I’m doing is for Tunisians to live with dignity and liberty,” he said while visiting a poor neighborhood in Tunis on Sunday night, going on to criticize the opposition as doing little to improve living conditions when it was in power. “We will stick to the principles we started with, and we will carry on.” More

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    The Only U.S. Territory Without U.S. Birthright Citizenship

    People born in American Samoa, which has been held by the United States for more than 120 years, are not automatically citizens of the United States.The Australia Letter is a weekly newsletter from our Australia bureau. Sign up to get it by email. This week’s issue is written by Natasha Frost, a reporter with the Australia bureau.It seems straightforward enough. As the American Constitution put it, “All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside.”And generally, that’s accurate. People born in any of the 50 states, one federal district and four major territories (Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands, Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands) are automatically American citizens.But in one American territory, which has been held by the United States for more than 120 years and which is some 2,600 miles (4,184 kilometers) southwest of Hawaii, they aren’t.Every April, people in American Samoa, which has a population of about 50,000, celebrate “Flag Day,” the most important holiday of the year, commemorating its five islands and two coastal atolls becoming part of the United States. Its residents serve in the U.S. military — indeed, more soldiers per capita come from the Pacific territory than from any other U.S. territory or state. If they choose to leave their island home, they can live anywhere else in the United States they like. They even hold American passports.But they aren’t United States citizens. Instead, American Samoans are U.S. “nationals,” a small but significant distinction that precludes them from voting, running for office, and holding jobs in a narrow selection of fields, including law enforcement. They can become citizens after moving to the mainland, but the process is long, requires passing a history test and costs at least $725, before legal fees, without any guarantee of success.Until quite recently, the difference between being a U.S. national and a U.S. citizen was not always closely observed. Many American Samoans living elsewhere in the United States voted in elections without knowing that they were ineligible to.But under the Trump administration, that distinction became more closely observed. In 2018, a woman born in American Samoa ran as a Republican state House candidate in Hawaii, before learning that she was ineligible to run or even to vote. American Samoans serving as officers in the U.S. Army suddenly found that unless they underwent naturalization, they would be demoted.A handful of American Samoans living in the United States have attempted to challenge the status quo. In a recent case, which the U.S. Supreme Court last month declined to hear, three American Samoans living in Utah sought to demonstrate the ways in which not having U.S. citizenship were harmful to them.One said he had been criticized by his peers for not voting in elections; another was precluded from pursuing a career as a police officer, he said; a third said that as a noncitizen, she could not sponsor her ailing parents for immigration visas to the United States, where they could receive better health care. (Her father subsequently died before he was able to relocate.)Perhaps surprisingly, the government of American Samoans, as well as a majority of its citizens, is opposed to its residents acquiring birthright citizenship, particularly by judicial fiat, said Michael F. Williams, a lawyer who represents the government.In 1900, chiefs in American Samoa agreed to become part of the United States by signing a deed, which included protections for fa’a Samoa, a phrase meaning “the Samoan way” that refers to the islands’ traditional culture.“The American Samoan people have concerns that incorporating citizenship wholesale to the territory of American Samoa could have a harmful impact on traditional Samoan culture,” Williams said. He added: “The American Samoans believe if they need to make this fundamental change, they should be the ones to bring it upon themselves, not have some judge in Salt Lake City, or in Denver, Colorado, or Washington, D.C., doing it.”Yet the reasons American Samoans do not have birthright citizenship were not originally related to any effort to protect Samoan culture. Instead, a set of court cases in the early 20th century, known as the “Insular Cases,” established that U.S. territories were at once part of the United States and outside of it. The reason, the Supreme Court ruled in 1901, was that these territories were “foreign in a domestic sense,” “inhabited by alien races,” and that therefore governing them “according to Anglo-Saxon principles may for a time be impossible.”Those calling for a legislative change include Charles Ala’ilima, a lawyer based in American Samoa.“There’s only one class of citizens in the United States — except here in American Samoa,” he said. “What we have now is basically the imposition of second-class status on a people that are under the sovereignty of the government. That is the definition of colonialism.”Some legal scholars contend that American Samoa is not entirely subject to the United States Constitution, allowing it to maintain certain features of life, including the sa, a prayer curfew in place in some villages, and traditional communal ownership of land. Imposing birthright citizenship, they argue, would put those traditions at legal risk.But in the 1970s, a court in Washington, D.C., found that residents of American Samoa had the right to a jury trials “as guaranteed by our Constitution” — even after a court in American Samoa said that introducing jury trials would be “an arbitrary, illogical, and inappropriate foreign imposition.”Introducing jury trials has made little difference to the Samoan way of life, Ala’ilima said, and there was no evidence to suggest that granting its people citizenship would either. In the Northern Mariana Islands, another U.S. territory, residents can restrict land ownership to people of native descent — while still receiving birthright citizenship.“My impression is that at some level, they know that if they get upgraded to citizen, nothing’s going to happen,” he said, of the American Samoan government. Already, he added, a significant minority of American Samoans were citizens of the United States through descent.But for others in the territory, Hawaii, a former U.S. territory that acquired statehood in 1959, stands as a warning. “The government of American Samoa looks at Hawaii and sees what has happened to the native Hawaiians. Hawaii has become a playground for rich Americans; Native Hawaiian people are looking at crumbs,” Williams said.“Programs that were established by the state government in Hawaii for the benefit of Native Hawaiians, including the Office of Hawaiian Affairs, have been struck down or limited by constitutional litigation, based on the argument that it would be unfair to help one category of citizens based solely on their race,” he added.It may be that, to the extent American Samoa is already exposed to this risk, as some contend, granting birthright citizenship to its people would make little difference, beyond giving its people something that they are constitutionally owed. But for its leaders, and its deeply conservative people, the unknown consequences for now feel far too great.And now for the week’s stories.Australia and New ZealandKarangahape Road, Auckland.Ruth McDowall for The New York TimesSelling Stories on Auckland’s Ponsonby and Karangahape Roads. Stores in New Zealand’s largest city honor local craftspeople, sustainability — and, sometimes, their owners’ grandparents.World Cup 2022: How Australia Can Advance to the Round of 16. Here’s how Australia can qualify for the next round.Wrangling Over Australian Dinner. A couple disagrees on what to call different meals of the day.Around The TimesDoctors operating on a 13-year-old patient during an electricity outage in Kherson, Ukraine, on Tuesday.Bernat Armangue/Associated PressUkraine Adjusts to Life in the Dark. After a barrage of Russian missiles hit Ukrainian infrastructure, engineers and emergency crews worked desperately to restore services through darkness, snow and freezing rain.Covid Frustration Grows in China. As China’s harsh Covid rules extend deep into their third year, there are growing signs of discontent across the country.An Echoless Chamber in an Old Minneapolis Recording Studio. Could Caity Weaver, a writer for The New York Times Magazine, survive the world’s quietest place — and perhaps even set a record for the longest time spent within its walls?Are you enjoying our Australia bureau dispatches?Tell us what you think at NYTAustralia@nytimes.com.Like this email?Forward it to your friends (they could use a little fresh perspective, right?) and let them know they can sign up here.Enjoying the Australia Letter? Sign up here or forward to a friend.For more Australia coverage and discussion, start your day with your local Morning Briefing and join us in our Facebook group. More