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    Donald Trump says he is ‘very angry’ with Vladimir Putin over Ukraine

    Donald Trump has said he is “pissed off” with Vladimir Putin over his approach to a ceasefire in Ukraine and threatened to levy tariffs on Moscow’s oil exports if the Russian leader does not agree to a truce within a month.The US president indicated he would levy a 25% or 50% tariff that would affect countries buying Russian oil in a telephone interview with NBC News, during which he also threatened to bomb Iran and did not rule out using force in Greenland.“If Russia and I are unable to make a deal on stopping the bloodshed in Ukraine, and if I think it was Russia’s fault, which it might not be, but if I think it was Russia’s fault, I am going to put secondary tariffs on oil, on all oil coming out of Russia,” Trump said.“That would be that if you buy oil from Russia, you can’t do business in the United States. There will be a 25% tariff on all … on all oil, a 25 to 50-point tariff on all oil.”The abrupt change of direction came after Putin had tried to attack the legitimacy of Volodymyr Zelenskyy on Friday, Trump said. Appearing on Russian television, Putin had suggested Ukraine could be placed under a temporary UN-led government to organise fresh elections before negotiating a peace deal.Trump has previously called the Ukrainian president a dictator, but on Sunday he said: “I was very angry, pissed off” when Putin “started getting into Zelenskyy’s credibility, because that’s not going in the right location, you understand?”He said “new leadership means you’re not gonna have a deal for a long time, right” and that he wanted to exert pressure on the Kremlin, which has thrown up a string of questions about a peace settlement and only agreed to limited maritime and energy ceasefires so far.Trump repeated that “if a deal isn’t made, and if I think it was Russia’s fault, I’m going to put secondary sanctions on Russia”, but then indicated he would quickly back down if there was progress on a ceasefire.“The anger dissipates quickly” if Putin “does the right thing”, Trump said, adding that he expected to talk to his Russian counterpart this week.The US president also used the same short interview to tell Iran that if “they don’t make a deal” to curb their nuclear weapons programme, “there will be bombing. It will be bombing the likes of which they have never seen before”. Officials from both countries were engaged in negotiations, he added.He also mentioned fresh economic sanctions as an alternative. “There’s a chance that, if they don’t make a deal, that I will do secondary tariffs on them,” Trump said. “I am considering putting on secondary tariffs on Iran until such time as a deal is signed.”Secondary tariffs are a novel idea. The US introduced a 25% tariff last week on countries that buy crude oil and liquid fuels from Venezuela, the largest of which is China, after Trump accused the Latin American country of sending criminals and gang members into the US under the cover of migrants.Russian oil exports are already subject to a range of sanctions from the US, UK, EU and other G7 countries, leaving China and India as the two largest buyers, according to the International Energy Agency. What is not yet clear is whether the measures proposed would be effective once they come into force.Finland indicated it may have had a role in Trump’s intervention. A day before the interview, Trump spent time with his Finnish counterpart, Alexander Stubb, at his Mar-a-Lago resort in Florida. The two men had breakfast and lunch and played a round of golf on an unofficial visit, Stubb’s office said.“My message in the conversations I have with the president is that we need a ceasefire, and we need a deadline for the ceasefire, and then we need to pay a price for breaking a ceasefire,” Stubb told the Guardian.“So, number one, we need a ceasefire date, and I would prefer that to be Easter, say, 20 April, when President Trump has been in office for three months. If by then it’s not accepted or is broken by Russia, there needs to be consequences. And those consequences should be sanctions, maximum sanctions, and we continue the pressure up until the 20th and then we’ll see what happens.”During a previous interview with NBC on Saturday, Trump said: “We’ll get Greenland. Yeah, 100%” and argued that while there’s a “good possibility that we could do it without military force … I don’t take anything off the table.”During the election campaign, Trump had said that he could end the Ukraine war within 24 hours, comments he more recently claimed were “a little bit sarcastic”. That has proved elusive and his tactics to force Russia and Ukraine into agreeing a ceasefire have so far been focused on bullying and pressurising Kyiv.Trump and his vice-president, JD Vance, berated Zelenskyy at the Oval Office a month ago, which was followed by Washington cutting off intelligence and military aid. Kyiv then signed up to the principle of a 30-day ceasefire if the Kremlin would reciprocate in return for intelligence and aid being restored.Putin said earlier this month that although he was in favour of a ceasefire, “there are nuances” and any halt in fighting should “remove the root causes of this crisis”, a sweeping but vague demand.The Russian president and his allies have called for the demilitarisation of Ukraine, insisted that the presence of western troops as peacekeepers would be unacceptable and demanded the full annexation of four regions, three of which it only partially occupies.Two people were killed and 25 were injured in and around Ukraine’s second city, Kharkiv, in Russian attacks on Saturday night and Sunday morning. A military hospital was among the buildings struck. Ukraine’s general staff denounced what it said was a “deliberate, targeted shelling”, a rare acknowledgement of military casualties.Trump’s intervention follows a difficult week for the White House, during which senior administration officials were criticised for discussing attacks on Houthi rebels in Yemen on the Signal messaging app, which is not authorised by the Pentagon.The highly sensitive discussion, which included bombing plans, leaked because a journalist from the Atlantic magazine was mistakenly added to the chat by the US national security adviser, Mike Waltz. More

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    The Guardian view on attacks on lawyers: democracies must stand up for justice | Editorial

    What the law says on paper is irrelevant if it cannot be upheld, or even stated clearly. That is why lawyers are targeted – with harassment, disbarment from the profession or even jail – by repressive regimes.Russia’s attempts to suppress the voice of the opposition leader Alexei Navalny did not end with his death in an Arctic prison colony. In a bleak coda, three of his lawyers have been jailed for several years. Vadim  Kobzev, Alexei Liptser and Igor Sergunin were found guilty of participating in an “extremist organisation” for relaying his messages to the outside world.The Center for Human Rights in Iran warned earlier this year that Iranian lawyers were being kicked out of the profession, arrested and jailed for representing protesters and dissidents. As its executive director, Hadi Ghaemi, noted: “Every lawyer imprisoned or disbarred represents many defendants whose rights have been trampled and now lack legal defence.”In China, where more than 300 human rights lawyers who had dared to take on sensitive cases were detained in 2015’s “709” crackdown, the pressure continues. As a grim joke had it at the height of the campaign, “even lawyers’ lawyers need lawyers” – those who represented arrested friends were then seized themselves.The unrelenting nature of the clampdown is particularly striking when, as one Chinese lawyer, Liang Xiaojun, observed: “We know we can’t win.” When the verdict is clear before a case has started, lawyers can only offer solidarity, spread their clients’ stories, and highlight the gulf between legal theory and reality. But in doing so, they challenge the official narrative. Targeting these lawyers didn’t just signal that resistance only invites further trouble. It attacked the concept of the rule of law itself, which lawyers had attempted to assert, hammering home the message that the party’s power was unassailable.The Council of Europe warned earlier this month that there are increasing reports of harassment, threats and other attacks on the practice of law internationally. The human rights body has adopted the first international treaty aiming to protect the profession of lawyer. Member states should now ratify this. Lawyers must be defended, as they defend others and the concepts of rules and justice.That message is more important than ever as the Trump administration turns on lawyers and judges as part of its broader assault on the institutions of US democracy and the principles that underpin them. The sanctioning of staff at the international criminal court is only the most flagrant example. William R Bay, president of the American Bar Association, told members in a recent letter: “Government actions evidence a clear and disconcerting pattern. If a court issues a decision this administration does not agree with, the judge is targeted. If a lawyer represents parties in a dispute with the administration, or … represents parties the administration does not like, lawyers are targeted.” Government lawyers too have faced “personal attacks, intimidation, firings and demotions for simply fulfilling their professional responsibilities”.Democratic governments and civil society must speak up for the law wherever it is threatened. Mr Bay is right to urge those in the profession to stand up and be counted. “If we don’t speak now, when will we speak?” he asks. The law still counts – both materially and culturally – in the US. Those who practise it need some of the courage in resisting abuses that their counterparts have shown elsewhere.  More

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    Just like McCarthy, Trump spreads fear everywhere before picking off his targets | Kenan Malik

    ‘Gold, mister, is worth what it is because of the human labor that goes into the finding and getting of it.” It’s a line spoken by Walter Huston in the 1948 film The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, a story about greed and moral corruption directed by his son, John Huston. That line was to have appeared on screen at the beginning of the film. It didn’t, on orders from the studio, Warner Bros. “It was all on account of the word ‘labor’,” John Huston later reflected. “That word looks dangerous in print, I guess.”It was a relatively insignificant moment in the drama of America’s postwar red scare. McCarthyism proper had still to take flight. Yet, so deep ran the fear already that a single, everyday word could create consternation in Hollywood.McCarthyism, the historian Ellen Schrecker has observed, “was a peculiarly American style of repression – nonviolent and consensual. Only two people were killed; only a few hundred went to jail.” Yet it constituted “one of the most severe episodes of political repression the United States ever experienced”.Sackings and legal sanctions created such fear that, in the words of the political philosopher Corey Robin, society was put “on lockdown”, with people so “petrified of being punished for their political beliefs” that “they drew in their political limbs”.It was not just communists who were silenced. “If someone insists that there is discrimination against Negroes in this country, or that there is an inequality of wealth,” claimed the chair of one state committee on un-American activities, “there is every reason to believe that person is a communist.” This at a time when Jim Crow still held the south in its grip. The red scare paused the civil rights movement for more than a decade and drew the teeth of union radicalism.Fear has always been a means of enforcing social order, most obviously in authoritarian states, from China to Saudi Arabia, Turkey to Russia, where repression becomes the foundation of political rule. In liberal democracies, order rests more on consensus than overt brutality. But here, too, fear plays its role. The worker’s fear of being sacked, the claimant’s of being sanctioned, the renter’s of being made homeless, the fear of the working-class mother facing a social worker or of the black teenager walking past a policeman – relations of power are also relations of fear, but fears usually so sublimated that we simply accept that that’s the way the system works.It is when consensus ruptures, when social conflict erupts, or when the authorities need to assert their power, that liberal democracies begin wielding fear more overtly as a political tool to quieten dissent or impose authority. Think of how the British state treated Irish people in the 1970s and 1980s, or miners during the great strike of 1984/85.Seventy years on from McCarthyism, America seems to be entering such a moment. Over the past month, we have seen the mass deportation to a notorious foreign jail of hundreds of people declared to be illegal immigrants and gang members, without evidence or due process; the arrest, detention and threatened deportation of foreign students, including Mahmoud Khalil, Rumeysa Ozturk, Momodou Taal and Yunseo Chung, for protesting about the war in Gaza; the blacklisting of law firms representing clients of whom Donald Trump does not approve; the mass sackings of federal workers.Fear works here in two ways. The targets of repression are groups about whom it is easier to create fear, and so easier to deprive of rights and due process. Doing so then creates a wider climate of fear in which people become less willing to speak out, and not just about Palestine. Already, “whole segments of American society [are] running scared”, as one observer put it.Institutions such as universities, Schrecker concluded about the 1950s, “did not fight McCarthyism” but “contributed to it”, not only through dismissals and blacklists but also through accepting “the legitimacy of what the congressional committees and other official investigators were doing”, thereby conferring “respectability upon the most repressive elements” of the process.It’s a process repeating itself today. Earlier this month, after cancelling $400m (£310m) in federal grants and contracts, Trump made a series of demands of Columbia University, including that it change its disciplinary rules, place the Middle Eastern, South Asian and African Studies department under “academic receivership” and adopt the contested International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism that its own lead drafter, Kenneth Stern, condemns as having been “weaponised” into “a blunt instrument to label anyone an antisemite” and to “go after pro-Palestinian speech”. Last week, Columbia capitulated.skip past newsletter promotionafter newsletter promotionMichael Roth, the president of Wesleyan University, one of the few academic leaders willing to speak out, decries “the greatest pressure put on intellectual life since the McCarthy era”, describing “anticipatory obedience” as “a form of cowardice”. Cowardice, though, has become the defining trait, most university leaders “just happy that Columbia is the whipping boy”. Columbia may be the first university in Trump’s crosshairs, but it won’t be the last. Keeping silent won’t save them.In his incendiary speech in Munich in February, the US vice-president, JD Vance, harangued European leaders to worry less about Russia than “the threat from within, the retreat of Europe from some of its most fundamental values”, especially free speech. The same, it would seem, applies to America, too. Many of those who previously so vigorously upheld the importance of free speech have suddenly lost their voice or now believe that speech should be free only for those with the right kinds of views. The brazen hypocrisy of Vance, and of the fair-weather supporters of free speech, should nevertheless not lead us to ignore the fact that, from more intrusive policing of social media to greater restrictions on our ability to protest to the disciplining, even sacking, of workers holding “gender-critical views”, these are issues to which we urgently need to attend.“I live in an age of fear,” lamented the essayist and author EB White in 1947, after the New York Herald had suggested that all employees be forced to declare their political beliefs to retain their jobs. He was, he insisted, less worried “that there were communists in Hollywood” than to “read your editorial in praise of loyalty testing and thought control”. It is a perspective as vital now as it was then, and as necessary on this side of the Atlantic as in America. More

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    Protests hit Tesla dealerships across the world in challenge to Elon Musk

    Thousands of people worldwide protested Elon Musk and his efforts with Donald Trump to dismantle the US federal government on Saturday, with rallies held in front of nearly every Tesla showroom in the US and many around the world – a concerted effort to go after the billionaire’s deep pockets as the CEO of the electric vehicle maker.Protest organizers asked people to do three things: don’t buy a Tesla, sell off Tesla stock and join the “Tesla Takedown” movement.“Hurting Tesla is stopping Musk,” reads one of the group’s taglines. “Stopping Musk will help save lives and our democracy.”On Saturday, with more than 200 events planned worldwide, protests kicked off midday in front of Tesla showrooms in Australia and New Zealand and then rippled across Europe in countries including Finland, Norway, Denmark, Germany, France, the Netherlands and the UK. Each rally was locally organized with original themes. In Ireland, it was “Smash the Fash”, and Switzerland had “Down with Doge”. Photos posted to Bluesky by Tesla Takedown showed demonstrators in San Jose, California, close to where Tesla was previously headquartered, and Austin, Texas, where its headquarters are now.Musk, the world’s richest person, heads the so-called “department of government efficiency” (Doge), which he’s tasked with slashing federal budgets in the US, including laying off thousands of workers, though he said in an interview Thursday: “Almost no one has gotten fired.” He’s gone after the Social Security Administration, the Department of Education, the National Park Service and several more departments and agencies, causing widespread backlash and criticism. Musk and Tesla did not return requests for comment.View image in fullscreenIn San Francisco, a crowd of around 200 people gathered in front of the Tesla showroom. Protesters spilled into the busy street and onto the median, confusing the self-driving Waymos trying to get around people darting back and forth.A boombox blasted We’re Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister and cars drove by honking enthusiastically. Even passing postal trucks, public buses and fire engines honked in support. People propped up signs with slogans like “Burn your swastikar before it burns you” and “No Doge bags”. Others flew massive American flags mounted upside down.The block-long Tesla showroom was emptied of all cars, and only a few security guards stood inside, with some San Francisco police outside. At one point, a group of four men wearing red Maga hats and black Doge shirts walked through the crowd, but everything remained calm.“I’m out here protesting because what I see is a hostile takeover of our country,” said Myra Levy, who was holding a sign that said “Pinche Ladrón” (“fucking thief”). “That is not OK for me. That is not OK for all of us.”Her friend, Karen Heisler, emphatically added: “We did not vote for this.”View image in fullscreenIn Berkeley, California, the Tesla showroom has shut down every Saturday for the last month because of the weekly protests, according to salespeople from neighboring retailers. Only security guards have stayed on to guard the building. It’s been the scene of lively demonstrations that have included a mariachi band and a 10-foot cardboard Cybertruck for people to spray-paint. Earlier this month, the showroom’s front door was splattered with red paint. The showroom manager declined to comment.In New York City, several hundred anti-Tesla protesters gathered outside the EV company’s Manhattan showroom on Saturday. Sophie Shepherd, 23, an organizer with Planet Over Profit, explained that the rally was not about protesting electric cars. “We’re here to protest Musk, who has essentially held a Tesla car show on the White House lawn,” she said. “We want to disrupt his business as much as possible, so that includes all Teslas, and not just the Cybertruck.”Marty, 82, said he was attending the New York City rally “because I’m worried about my country”. In the 1960s, he protested the Vietnam war. “Now, it’s the overthrow of our country by oligarchs,” he said. The rally, he went on, was a message to “this guy Elon who is buying our government”.On Friday, the New York police department said its officers were searching for two suspects who allegedly carved the word “Nazis” and a swastika on the doors of a Tesla Cybertruck in Brooklyn this week, part of an uptick in attacks on Tesla vehicles and facilities across the US since Trump took office.View image in fullscreenIn Washington DC, organizers planned a rally in front of a new Tesla showroom in Georgetown, making the theme “Tesla Takedown Dance Party”. “Dump the meme stock, join dance lines,” read the flyer. “The stakes couldn’t be higher but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun!”“The hypocrisy is so deep,” said Manissa Maharawal, an assistant professor at American University who has studied anti-tech protests and points out that Tesla has received billions in government funding. “It’s this company that’s been subsidized in a lot of ways by the government, but now the CEO is trying to dismantle the government because he thinks he knows better than everyone, because he comes from the tech industry.”skip past newsletter promotionafter newsletter promotionView image in fullscreenIn the US, protests happened in nearly every state, across the north-east, south and midwest through to the west coast. States with the most planned rallies included Massachusetts, New York, Florida, Texas, Washington and California, totaling more than 100. Several protests also took place throughout Canada.In London, dozens of demonstrators gathered at a Tesla showroom along the three-lane A40 in West London.“Musk is hugely abhorrent. He is funding the far right, and meaning that any Republicans who speak out end up not being funded in their next election,” said gay rights campaigner Nigel Warner.“It’s too overwhelming to do nothing,” said Louise Cobbett-Witten, who has family in the US and was protesting at the Tesla dealership in west London. “There is real solace in coming together like this. Everyone has to do something. We haven’t got a big strategy besides just standing on the side of the street, holding signs and screaming.”Tesla Takedown organizers reiterated the need for people to continue to speak out and protest against Musk, Trump and Doge. The stakes are high and “no one is coming to save us”, they say on their website.Maharawal, from American University, said she was struck by that sentiment, saying: “For there to be a nationwide and global protest saying ‘no one’s coming to save us’ just speaks to the level of anger and desperation right now.”Organizers have also been careful to distance themselves from the violent vandalism that has been carried out against Tesla showrooms. Dozens of Tesla facilities have been attacked in the middle of the night with molotov cocktails, gunshots or graffiti saying things like “Fuck Elon” and “Tesla Is Fascist”.Trump has vowed to designate any violence against Tesla dealerships as domestic terrorism.Tesla Takedown organizers condemn the vandalism. “We are a non-violent grassroots protest movement,” the group says. “We oppose violence and destruction of property. Peaceful protest on public property is not domestic terrorism.”Harry Taylor contributed reporting More

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    Trump has managed to spin Signalgate as a media lapse, not a major security breach | Andrew Roth

    When it comes to Trump-era scandals, the shameless responses to “Signalgate”, in which top administration officials discussing details of an impending strike in Yemen in a group chat without noticing the presence of a prominent journalist, should set alarm bells ringing for its brazenness and incompetence.In a particularly jaw-dropping exchange, Tulsi Gabbard, the United States’ director of national intelligence, was forced to backtrack during a house hearing after she had said that there had been no specific information in the Signal chat about an impending military strike. Then, the Atlantic’s Jeffrey Goldberg published the chat in full, contradicting Gabbard’s remarks that no classified data or weapons systems had been mentioned in the chat.“My answer yesterday was based on my recollection, or the lack thereof, on the details that were posted there,” said Gabbard. “What was shared today reflects the fact that I was not directly involved with that part of the Signal chat.”Then there was the US secretary of defense, Pete Hegseth who – staring straight down the camera – baldly stated: “Nobody was texting war plans, and that’s all I have to say about that.” The next day, Goldberg revealed that Hegseth himself had texted the precise timing of the attacks and the weapons systems to be used, specifically F-18 jets and MQ-9 drones.And Michael Waltz, the White House national security adviser, was left scrambling on live television as he was quizzed by a Fox News anchor on how Goldberg’s number had ended up on his phone. “You’ve never talked to him before so how is the number on your phone?” asked conservative television anchor Laura Ingraham. “It gets sucked in,” Waltz, a former congressman and army special forces soldier, replied – without explaining how a number can get “sucked in” to a phone.But despite all this, no one is really taking the prospects of an investigation seriously. At heart, this is about politics – and the fact is that Democrats simply don’t have the votes or the sway to deliver a body blow to the administration at this point.It’s unlikely that anyone will be punished. Donald Trump has told his aides that he doesn’t want to give the Atlantic a scalp, and vice-president JD Vance responded forcefully during a trip to Greenland on Friday: “If you think you’re going to force the president of the United States to fire anybody you’ve got another think coming … I’m the vice-president saying it here on Friday: we are standing behind our entire national security team.”For decades, national security was broadly seen as the last bastion of bipartisanship in Washington, an area where Democrats and Republicans put aside their differences for a general consensus on supporting the national interest. Members of Congress on the intelligence and foreign affairs committees often maintained cordial relationships. There was also an understanding that big scandals could jump the partisan line, and lead to serious repercussions even with tensions between the parties at their highest.Scooter Libby, once chief of staff to vice-president Dick Cheney, was sentenced to prison after an investigation into the leak of the identity of covert CIA agent Valerie Plame. The Department of Justice under Barack Obama launched more Espionage Act investigations for leaking sensitive information than all previous administrations combined.And the FBI, of course, launched a years-long investigation into Hillary Clinton for keeping emails on a home computer server that ultimately may have helped sway the elections. “It’s not the hypocrisy that bothers me; it’s the stupidity,” Clinton wrote in a New York Times op-ed on Friday. “We’re all shocked – shocked! – that President Trump and his team don’t actually care about protecting classified information or federal record retention laws … What’s much worse is that top Trump administration officials put our troops in jeopardy by sharing military plans on a commercial messaging app and unwittingly invited a journalist into the chat. That’s dangerous. And it’s just dumb.”Observers have remarked that the scandal would have been far greater if it had taken place at a lower level in the intelligence community. Mid-level officers and defence officials would all face far harsher blowback if they were caught divulging the kind of information that Hegseth sent into the chat, including the specific timing of the strikes and the weapons systems to be used.But the Trump administration believes that it can simply divert and divide public attention until there is a new scandal. That may be a winning strategy. Trump is to introduce tariffs this week that will probably dominate the news agenda for weeks. And his deputies are out on cable news every day, pushing back at the media for covering the scandal and suggesting that Goldberg somehow sneaked his way into the chat rather than being added directly by Waltz, the national security adviser.“They have treated this as a media event to be spun rather than a grievous error to be rectified,” wrote Phil Klay, a military veteran and guest columnist for the New York Times. The early indications are that the Trump administration will skate through this scandal, crossing into new territory in Washington where even a major security leak can be repainted as the fault of the media for covering it. More

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    Protesters picket London Tesla showroom on global anti-Musk day

    Blaring car horns on the three-lane A40 in west London are nothing new. However, on Saturday, they weren’t aimed at other drivers for a change; instead it was Tesla’s CEO, Elon Musk, who was the target of their anger as part of the “Takedown Tesla” movement, which has spread from the United States.“It’s too overwhelming to do nothing,” said Louise Cobbett-Witten, who has family in the US. “There is real solace in coming together like this, everyone has to do something. We haven’t got a big strategy besides just standing on the side of the street, holding signs and screaming.”The protest was part of a global day of protests planned under the umbrella of the Tesla Takedown movement. Organizers say the rallies will take place in front of more than 200 Tesla locations worldwide, including nearly 50 in California. Musk has not commented on the demonstrations.Cobbett-Witten has family in Washington DC, and is planning to move back to the US. The 39-year-old NHS worker, who lives in south London, said: “The checks and balances have just failed. As much as people are trying to not say these words, they are fascists, they are white supremacists, they’re xenophobes, they’re misogynists, and they’re coming for everyone. And what starts in America comes over here.”In the last fortnight, Tesla has responded to the protests outside its showroom and charging point in Park Royal by stationing a lone security guard at its gate, who said protesters had been friendly and peaceful. Dozens turned up on Saturday, their largest turnout since they began weeks ago.While Tesla sales have fallen in Europe, they rose in the UK by more than a fifth in February, according to new car registration figures from the Society of Motor Manufacturers and Traders.View image in fullscreenGay rights campaigner Nigel Warner MBE was attempting to hand out stickers to Tesla drivers entering or leaving the site in Park Royal. “This is the only thing you can do to make a difference,” the 77-year-old retired accountant from London said. “We are pretty helpless over here, the same as Europe, the only thing we can do is try to affect Tesla’s share prices and sales. It is something that has been done already with the Tesla sales dropping in many places. If he can’t sell his cars he is finished.”Documentary film-maker Jim Green, 56, who lived in New York and Los Angeles before moving back to the UK 18 months ago, had worked with Musk on a film a decade ago.Green said: “He was a different person, and he was very charismatic. He was talking when I was hanging out with him about the gigafactory where the batteries were being built, and he had a very compelling argument to make about the importance of batteries, an argument he made extraordinarily articulately. So I was very much leaning in to believing this guy wouldn’t turn into the fascist he has become.”He said Musk had attacked typical Tesla buyers, whom he described as wealthy liberals who care about the environment: “Musk has gone out of his way to insult that exact group of human beings. I lived in LA during the time when everyone who was wealthy and liberal traded their Toyota Prius in for their Tesla during 2014-2015.”Retiree Anne Kajava, 59, who is originally from Minnesota but lives in Cambridgeshire, said she was concerned about the United States’ change in policy on Europe and Ukraine.She said: “I am truly concerned about a world war three. I am concerned about a civil war within the United States. You could say those are extreme views but Trump is talking about war. You have JD Vance in Greenland; it’s not impossible.”Holding a banner attached to a Donald Trump toilet brush, she said: “I used to not hesitate to say I’m an American. Now actually I’m working with an acting coach, to fake a British accent so I can turn it on and off when I want to. I don’t want to be identified as American.” More

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    A tip for JD Vance: Greenland doesn’t care about your frail human ego | Sarah Ditum

    In August 2018, I did something that JD Vance and his wife, Usha, can only dream of: I went to Greenland, and I didn’t cause a national outcry against my presence. The not-causing-a-national-outcry part of that was easy. All I had to do was show up and not be a thinly veiled agent of Trumpian expansionism while pretending to care about dog sled races.The other part – going to Greenland in the first place – is harder to explain. I’m not an explorer, a sailor or a climate scientist. I don’t belong to any of the vanishingly few occupations with legitimate reasons to visit the Arctic Circle. I was there, inexplicably, as a literary journalist.In 2014, a 24-year-old Greenlandic writer called Niviaq Korneliussen published her debut novel, written in Greenlandic rather than the dominant Danish language. (Greenland is self-governing on domestic policy, but has been a Danish territory since the 18th century.) Four years later, it had been translated into English with the title Crimson, and become a bestseller. I had been sent to profile this unlikely literary superstar.A few days after the editor first emailed me about the assignment, a car arrived in the middle of the night to take me to Heathrow. I was halfway there when I realised that my weatherproof coat was still hanging, supposedly unmissably, next to my front door. I landed in Nuuk, Greenland’s capital, with nothing but a big cardigan to protect me from the elements.My preparation was lacking in other ways too. I’d made contact with Korneliussen before travelling, but intended to call to confirm arrangements when I arrived. Except Greenland isn’t covered by EU mobile roaming agreements, so my phone didn’t work. No matter: I could use the wifi at my hotel to email.But the hotel – actually a seamen’s hostel – hadn’t put a password on its network. When I arrived, a large cruise ship was sitting in the nearby harbour, soaking up all the bandwidth. As I stood at the front desk, almost in tears about this professional disaster, a sailor walked past and called out a cheerful greeting of “Hey, English!” I’ve never felt so foreign in my life.The amazing thing, really, is that I could make it to Greenland in such chaotic fashion and not die of exposure. For millennia, the ice-smothered island had been luring travellers on to its barely habitable fringes, and then repulsing them. The earliest known settlers were Norse – walrus hunters who traded the ivory with visiting ships, and scratched out a difficult living from Greenland’s small patch of farmable land.Sometime in the 15th century, the Norse Greenlanders vanished and nothing in the historical record can say whether it was famine, disease or the sheer chilly isolation that finished them off. Their disappearance, writes the journalist Jon Gertner in his excellent book The Ice at the End of the World, “remains one of European history’s supreme mysteries”.The Inuit ancestors of today’s majority Greenlanders only arrived about 800 years ago, and maintained a healthily suspicious attitude to their home. In their folk stories, the ice caps were a place of strange creatures and unknown horrors. The few Europeans who visited tended to agree. Hans Egede, an 18th-century Danish missionary, declared that the centre of Greenland could have “no use to mankind”.Some men, though, wanted to change that. In the late 19th century, two explorers staked their claim to the strange, hostile landscape. First the Dane Fridtjof Nansen crossed the island from west to east, surviving brutal temperatures and terrifying crevasses to make the 260-mile journey by foot and on ski. It took 11 weeks.That stung the American Robert Peary into competition. He undertook an even longer and more fearsome route, crossing the northern part of Greenland. It was physically punishing, but perhaps even more so mentally, surrounded by nothing but blaring whiteness in the endless sun of the Arctic summer. On the ice, wrote Peary, “the nightmare of emptiness possessed us”.It wasn’t clear at that point in history whether Greenland would end up being Danish or American, but the Danes staked their claim first, establishing trading posts in the early 20th century. Since then technology – and climate change – have made Greenland ever more accessible.You no longer have to make iceberg-dodging approaches to the coast by ship: you can get a plane. And when you get there and find yourself improperly attired, you don’t have to get native Greenlanders to make you clothing from reindeer hide that’s been arduously chewed until it’s soft enough to stitch (which is how Peary got himself fitted out).Instead, you go to Nuuk’s shopping centre to buy yourself a new jacket, which is what I did. It was gougingly expensive (island prices), but still better than the pitying look I got from Korneliussen when we eventually met and she saw I was dressed in knitwear. Still, I wasn’t in danger of hypothermia: the temperature while I was there was a blazingly summery 10C.You shouldn’t imagine that Greenland has become too tame, though. Nuuk is the size of a small market town, and wilderness presses in as soon as you reach its limits. Hard, black volcanic rocks rear up from the shallow turf. There are no roads connecting Greenland’s settlements: the terrain is too rugged.The weather turned the day I was going home. It was touch and go whether my connection to Iceland would be able to take off at all: I believe it was the last flight to leave Greenland for 48 hours. I sat in the airport, hugging myself in my new jacket, marvelling at how ill-equipped I was to survive in a place so implacably indifferent to my plans.The lesson the Vances should take from their ill-fated expedition is that Greenland doesn’t care about human ambition and desires. Donald Trump’s attempt to take possession of it is just another episode in its contested history. But, even today, you cannot simply stroll on to the island and take it. So far, the Greenlanders themselves have made it very clear that they won’t be welcoming this new generation of American adventurers. Sarah Ditum is a journalist and the author of the book Toxic: Women, Fame and the Noughties. She lives in Bath.

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