Latest news with #Allies


Spectator
19 hours ago
- Politics
- Spectator
What's next for Taiwan?
When Portuguese traders sailed past a verdant, mountainous land on the fringe of the Chinese empire in the mid-16th century, they named it Ihla Formosa – 'beautiful island'. But Kangxi, the third emperor of the Manchu Qing Dynasty, was less impressed when his naval forces captured it in 1683, scoffing: 'Taiwan is no bigger than a ball of mud. We gain nothing by possessing it, and it would be no loss if we did not acquire it.' Beautiful or not, Taiwan was a pirates' lair, inhabited by tattooed head-hunters and best left alone. Yet the Qing clung on to Taiwan for two centuries, with Chinese settlers gradually displacing the indigenous Austronesian population. In 1895, the island was ceded under the Treaty of Shimonoseki to Japan, which transformed it into a model colony with good sanitation, modern railways and a formal education system. When Japan surrendered to the Allies in 1945, Taiwan was occupied by the nationalist troops of Chiang Kai-shek's Republic of China (ROC). Then, in 1949, when the victorious communists founded the People's Republic of China (PRC), Chiang evacuated across the Taiwan Strait. To this day, Taiwan is officially the ROC. Contrary to the PRC's claims, Taiwan has not always been part of Chinese territory. But whether the 22 million ethnically Han Chinese who live there today are Chinese, Taiwanese or a mixture of the two is a complex and highly contested question. For Xi Jinping, however, it is straightforward. 'Blood is thicker than water, and people on both sides of the Strait are connected by blood,' he declared last year. For Chris Horton, the author of Ghost Nation and a veteran reporter who has lived in Taiwan for a decade, it is equally simple: Taiwan is not Chinese. In a punchy narrative, he sets out to 'dispel the carefully crafted disinformation sowed by Beijing'. His intention is to provide Taiwan's friends and protectors with a better understanding of its people, history and politics. His book is the result of hundreds of interviews, including one with the aged Lee Teng-hui, the 'father of Taiwan's democracy', conducted shortly before his death in 2020. Horton dips into geopolitics, explaining the strategic rationale for China to take Taiwan. But Ghost Nation is at heart a journalistic history of Taiwan's long march to become 'Asia's freest country', not a war-gaming analysis to rival the think tanks in DC. Horton is especially good on the brutality of Chiang Kai-shek's quasi-fascist Kuomintang (KMT) regime, which ruled Taiwan under martial law from 1949 to 1987. From day one it behaved like an occupying force, seizing land and plundering the island. An estimated 28,000 people died during '228'massacres in 1947 – the KMT's 'original sin'. Around two million nationalist refugees crossed the Taiwan Strait in 1948-50, adding to the existing population of approximately six million. The native Taiwanese were kept in check during the 38 years known as the White Terror, when Taiwan became a surveillance state, subject to strict indoctrination and brutal punishments. Political prisoners had sharp sticks rammed up their backsides or were forced to eat dog shit. With the end of military rule in 1987, Taiwan began the slow, difficult process of democratisation. In 2000, Chen Shui-bian of the Democratic Progressive party (DPP) became the first non-KMT president in the ROC's 55-year history. After eight years of Ma Ying-jeou's KMT government from 2008, which forged closer ties with China, the DPP returned to power under Tsai Ing-wen in 2016. Last year, she was succeeded by the DPP's Lai Ching-te, who is reviled in Beijing for describing himself as 'a pragmatic worker for Taiwan independence'. DPP governments have delivered social liberalisation – Taiwan became the first country in Asia to make same-sex marriage legal in 2019 – and fostered a strong sense of Taiwanese identity. Herein lies the problem with Horton's account. It is written entirely with a pro-independence view, hammering home the point that the KMT (and CCP) are illegitimate rulers. If so, why did a third of Taiwanese vote for the KMT in last year's election, and why does it currently dominate Taiwan's parliament? Horton is scathing of the KMT's 'ethnonationalism', but he does not acknowledge that many Taiwanese view today's DPP itself as a nationalist propaganda machine. I laughed out loud when he lambasted media organisations that decline to call Taiwan 'a country' for betraying the 'fundamental principles of objectivity in journalism'. At times his own narrative amounts to an erudite rant. This is fine for readers who understand Taiwan's deeply polarised politics, but it is hardly the 'panoramic view' promised on the dust jacket. So what next for the beautiful island? Horton warns that China is quickly closing the military gap with the US, building the forces it needs to invade. A giant amphibious assault carrier ferrying robotic attack dogs could come into service by the end of next year. Xi has allegedly told the People's Liberation Army that it must be ready to attack Taiwan by 2027 – though capability does not necessarily entail intent. A war in Taiwan, which sits on the world's busiest shipping route and manufactures 90 per cent of its most advanced semiconductors, would cause a global depression. But does Donald Trump care about Taiwan beyond its use as a bargaining chip with Beijing? We may be about to find out.


SBS Australia
a day ago
- Politics
- SBS Australia
PM says Palestinian state 'essential', but stops short of committing to timeline for statehood
PM says Palestinian state 'essential', but stops short of committing to timeline for statehood Published 30 July 2025, 7:52 am The Prime Minister has warned Israel its losing support among allies for its handling of the Gaza conflict. Australia today with five other nations described the establishment of a Palestinian state as "essential", but did not commit to following the UK's actions of setting a deadline for statehood.


Mint
a day ago
- Mint
Jaspreet Bindra: The 2026 Impact Summit could become the Bretton Woods of AI
Jaspreet Bindra The global conclave scheduled in New Delhi would mark a historic moment if India lays down how artificial intelligence (AI) should serve humanity. Ethics must meet execution, safety should meet scale and AI needs governance. After the AI Action Summit in Paris the baton for the next major checkpoint in defining AI's future will pass to India which will host the 2026 AI Impact Summit. Gift this article Earlier this year, I visited Bletchley Park, the beautifully preserved lodge in England where during World War II, Alan Turing and his fellow codebreakers decoded not just ciphers, but the very nature of machine logic. Many believe that it was this decoding of German cryptic messages that won the war for the Allies. Almost 75 years later, in the chill of an English autumn in 2023, world leaders, scientists and tech CEOs gathered there to defuse another looming conflict. Earlier this year, I visited Bletchley Park, the beautifully preserved lodge in England where during World War II, Alan Turing and his fellow codebreakers decoded not just ciphers, but the very nature of machine logic. Many believe that it was this decoding of German cryptic messages that won the war for the Allies. Almost 75 years later, in the chill of an English autumn in 2023, world leaders, scientists and tech CEOs gathered there to defuse another looming conflict. That AI Safety Summit, steeped in moral urgency, raised an important alarm: Artificial intelligence (AI) may be the most powerful technology humanity has created and we have no consensus on how to govern it. Six months later, the conversation moved to Paris for the AI Action Summit. The mood had shifted. Less philosophy, more policy. Countries debated surveillance versus safety, openness versus sovereignty. The EU showcased its regulatory strides; others offered national strategies. The US and UK demurred from the evolving consensus. From ethics to execution, the message was clear: the world was waking up, but still speaking in different tongues. Now, the baton passes to India. In February 2026, New Delhi will host the AI Impact Summit, the third major global checkpoint in the ongoing effort to define AI's future. Hopefully, this is more than just another gathering of talking heads, but a rare opportunity for India to lead the conversation past alarm and action into actual impact. The world is at an inflection point. Generative AI is no longer a novelty. It writes code, composes music, conducts research, automates jobs and even drafts legislation. In boardrooms, classrooms and courtrooms, AI is becoming invisible infrastructure, like electricity. The US is moving towards a hands-off regime, China's approach is state directed. Europe is building a framework of rules. Most countries, including India, are still watching from the sidelines, unsure where to stand. Also Read: Outrage over AI is pointless if we're clueless about AI models By 2026, we will likely have seen new versions of GPT, Gemini and Claude, which will be even more powerful, agentic and embedded. The guard-rails we set now will shape not just product design, but societal outcomes. We have to decide whether AI will amplify inequity or bridge it, empower individuals or surveil them, and will it accelerate development or deepen divides. India's summit, then, is not just another event. It's a platform from which a new kind of global AI diplomacy can be launched. The AI conversation has so far been dominated by corporations and researchers, but it is governments that represent the will of the people and must create enabling environments for both safety and innovation. Too often, however, intergovernmental summits end up as echo chambers of good intentions and empty communiqués. What we need now is some refreshing practicality: not just talking about AI governance, but showing it as the word 'impact' suggests. The AI Impact Summit must push for governments to open-source their playbooks—frameworks for data sharing, national compute strategies, skilling programmes and regulatory sandboxes. What worked in Europe may not work in Ethiopia, but all learnings must travel. India should invite countries to present not just vision statements, but detailed 'AI governance manifestos': what they are doing on AI ethics, safety, infrastructure, talent and societal impact. A kind of AI CoP, if you will. India knows how to host world-class events like the G20 in 2023. Arguably, though, the outcome of that summit was overshadowed by its AI Impact Summit must avoid that trap and India should be aiming for impact and outcome over performative wins. One idea is to design inbuilt accountability. Every commitment made at the summit should be assigned a lead country, a timeline and a review mechanism. Let the summit lead to a dashboard rather than just a declaration. Also Read: Leaders, watch out: AI chatbots are the yes-men of modern life India is uniquely positioned to do this. It is the world's largest democracy, a tech hub of startups and corporates, and holds a leadership position in the Global South. Its world-leading efforts with digital public infrastructure (DPI) have shown that inclusive tech at scale is possible. India can bring its DPI playbook to the global table with AI. India also has moral legitimacy. It can speak credibly on data dignity, avoiding AI colonialism and ensuring that foundational models are trained on world-views that are not just Western. It can advocate a shared 'AI Commons,' a pool of datasets, models and compute power that's open, multilingual and inclusive. This is also an opportunity for the world's biggest tech companies and labs to co-create the agenda. The summit must insist on concrete commitments from them: sharing evaluation benchmarks, collaborating with governments on safety testing, investing in compute power for public-good AI and publishing transparency reports on model training and usage. The year 2026 could see India take leadership of defining the desired impact of AI—AI for Good and AI for All. If India pioneers this effort, the site of its summit could come to be known as the Bretton Woods of AI: where ethics meets execution, safety meets scale and AI meets humanity. The author is a founder of AI&Beyond and the author of 'The Tech Whisperer'. Topics You May Be Interested In


The Print
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Print
India vs Pakistan in Asia Cup? Cricket with terror state Pakistan is good for business after all
Money talks louder than politics. So all kinds of silly excuses are being offered to justify overturning the precedent set just a week ago, when former players such as Shikhar Dhawan, Harbhajan Singh, and brothers Irfan and Yusuf Pathan refused to play the match against Pakistan. Apparently, if India doesn't participate in Asia Cup, it would amount to giving Pakistan a walk-over, which would apparently be ' terrible '. (Oh really?) It should be a political debate, because that's how the issue has been treated for decades. But in reality, it's a financial issue. The organisers of the tournament stand to make millions and cannot afford to have India pull out, as that would dent their profits. The same goes for the TV channels, which have paid crores to broadcast the tournament. They don't want to see their investment collapse if India withdraws. Should India play cricket with Pakistan? More crucially, after several former Indian cricketers boycotted the match against Pakistan in the ongoing World Championship of Legends tournament, should we participate in the forthcoming Asia Cup where India could end up playing three matches against Pakistan? Then there's the argument that India's desire to host the 2036 Olympics prevents us from boycotting tournaments for political reasons. Never mind that: a) The Asia Cup has nothing to do with the Olympics and is not organised by the Olympic Committee; b) That has never stopped us from boycotting sport with Pakistan before; c) There is a long and honourable tradition of countries refusing to play sport with others for so-called 'political reasons.' England wasn't ostracised when it refused to play South Africa during apartheid. The US wasn't drummed out of the comity of nations when it boycotted the Moscow Olympics over the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. These are pathetic, bogus excuses offered by money-hungry men and their toadies. Also read: Those separating cricket from politics after Reasi tragedy are either delusional or Pakistani India set the precedent for boycott in sports To see through these lies, we need only remind ourselves of a few basic facts. There is a precedent for sports boycotts. For decades, India — and then the rest of the civilised world — refused to play with South Africa because it disapproved of apartheid. Even then, there were people (mainly White men) who opposed this position, pushing the same bogus argument still advanced by greedy interests: that sport should be free of politics. In other words, it's perfectly okay to pretend to be gentlemen together on the playing field with countries that legitimise bigotry and racism or murder people in pursuit of political ends. In politics, military and trade, we should shun and isolate these countries, but when it comes to cricket, they are just jolly good chaps who we must engage with because 'sports should be free of politics.' Right? That's like the Allies saying during World War 2: 'We will defeat the Nazis and save humanity—but hey, why not play a game or two with these genocidal maniacs? It's only sport after all.' If you accept the principle of sporting sanctions — and India was among the first countries to advocate boycotts — then you only need to ask: is there a difference between apartheid-era South Africa and today's Pakistan? I don't even need to answer that. Home Minister Amit Shah and much of the Modi government have been answering in Parliament for the past several days. Also read: Play Pakistan, know Pakistan—why Indian cricket can't afford to let go of the golden window Like apartheid, stand against Pakistani terror Pakistan is a terror state; a sponsor of terrorism against India. The Pahalgam massacre was clearly organised by Pakistanis. To even ask whether the terrorists came from Pakistan is now seen as treason. That's why we attacked terror camps in Pakistan. That's why we launched Operation Sindoor. That's why our armed forces risked their lives. We must cripple Pakistan so it can never take another Indian life again. To this, the supporters of India's participation in the Asia Cup ask: 'But while we are crippling Pakistan, can't we at least make crores by playing cricket with them? Does that even deserve a response? For decades, India has urged the world to declare Pakistan a terrorist state. When Donald Trump hyphenates India and Pakistan, we get agitated and ask: 'How can you speak of us in the same breath as these terrorists? You should be chastising and isolating Pakistan, not equating us.' But now we say: Don't isolate them while we are playing cricket with them, please! There are big bucks in it for us!' In moral terms, apartheid was an abomination. We could have treated it as South Africa's internal matter. But we didn't — we stood up for human rights. Pakistan-sponsored terrorism is just as bad, morally. But for us, it's even worse. With apartheid, we were taking a principled global stand. Here, our own people are being murdered. This isn't abstract morality. This is a question of Indian lives. If anything, we should take an even stronger stand than we did in global cases. Also read: This argument isn't about cricket but the Subcontinent's geopolitics. That's why it begins with cricket Stop with the bonhomie drivel Finally, let's dispose of the one argument that is always trotted out after the 'keep politics out of sport' drivel collapses: 'We should play sport with Pakistan because people-to-people contact brings peace and understanding.' But does it? One of the first things Pakistan did after we resumed cricket ties was to send militants into Kashmir to foment insurrection. Is there any evidence that cricket has improved relations between the two countries? Don't swallow the two big lies in these discussions. First, India-Pakistan matches are not occasions of bonhomie and goodwill, as we are constantly told. They are spectacles of jingoism and hostility. When India plays Pakistan, it's rare to hear an Indian say, 'These Pakistanis are jolly good chaps.' What you do hear is: 'Crush the b_____s.' Second, don't buy the nonsense that the problem lies only with the Pakistani government, while ordinary Pakistanis love India because of cricket. The people who say this are either professional liars or have never met a Pakistani. During Operation Sindoor, Pakistanis rallied around their government, wished death on Indian forces, and celebrated when their media told them Pakistan had defeated India. There was no people-to-people love. We may blather on about 'Aman Ki Asha', but the only 'Aman' Pakistanis have ever admired is Zeenat Aman. Let's not kid ourselves about why cricket administrators want India to play Pakistan in the Asia Cup. It has nothing to do with India's interests. All they care about is the interest that will accumulate — in their bank accounts. Vir Sanghvi is a print and television journalist, and talk show host. He tweets @virsanghvi. Views are personal. (Edited by Prashant)


Irish Independent
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Independent
‘Kamikaze: An Untold History' review: War documentary tries to make sense of Japan's suicide missions
Director spent 15 years tracking down and talking to peers of the pilots and members of their families to deliver this monumental achievement in filmmaking Amid the innumerable books and documentaries about World War II, few examine the question of why there was widespread public support in Japan for the kamikaze missions that sent 4,000 pilots, all in their teens or early 20s, to their deaths in the final 10 months of the war. The feature-length documentary Kamikaze: An Untold History (BBC iPlayer), produced by Japan's public service broadcaster NHK, is an attempt to make sense of what seems senseless. It's crystal clear on why the missions themselves went on so long after the country's military leaders knew the war was already a lost cause. The sacrifice of the lives of these young men, many of whom hadn't even completed their training, was a cynical attempt to prolong the war in order to negotiate more favourable terms with the Allies. Historical records show that a mere 10pc of the kamikaze missions succeeded in their objective In the event, what followed was the dropping of two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, followed within days by the Japanese surrender. Historical records show that a mere 10pc of the kamikaze missions succeeded in their objective. All the sacrifices, all the deaths, including those of 7,000 Allied personnel killed in the attacks, were ultimately for nothing. The documentary's director, Oshima Takayuki, spent 15 years tracking down and talking to peers of the pilots and members of their families. The result is a monumental achievement. The documentary explodes the myth, easily digestible during the war to those in the West being drip-fed racial stereotypes, that the kamikaze pilots were, like the suicide bombers of today, crazed fanatics who were happy to give their lives for the cause. Maybe a handful of them were. Most, however, were just young, terrified men who, fearful of being shamed and branded traitors, felt they had no choice but to volunteer. They were given a form on which they had to state their willingness to go on a kamikaze mission. The choices were: 'strongly desire', 'desire' or 'negative'. 'In that environment, it must have been difficult to write 'negative',' says a historian. The only way for a pilot to ensure they didn't end up on a kamikaze mission was to achieve the highest training grades. The best pilots were considered by their superiors too valuable to be treated as cannon fodder. Everyone else was expendable. Kawashima Tetsuzo enlisted at 15 and died a few months short of his 18th birthday. Here, his family sift through some mementos. There's a Japanese flag signed by all his classmates and an article from a women's magazine honouring him and others who had died on missions. There were letters of tribute written by his teachers. The first kamikaze missions involved 24 pilots. One of them was 20-year-old Hitora Yukinobu. His plane was second in a formation of six and his death was captured on film. Footage from the US aircraft carrier he was attacking shows his plane being hit in the wing. Pupils had to sing a song, written by their teacher after the young man's death, urging 500 more students to enlist and go to war Tsunoda Kazuo, whose status as an ace pilot meant he was spared kamikaze missions, was assigned to follow the planes and report on the result of the attack. He says the pilots had the message drilled into them that kamikaze missions were their only way of ensuring Japan's survival. The media glorified the pilots' supposedly 'pure-hearted' sacrifice. Their stories were told on the radio, featuring personal messages they'd recorded for their families the night before flying to their deaths. Shrines were erected in their hometowns. A film about the exploits of one squadron was shown in cinemas to huge enthusiasm. The slogan '100 Million Kamikaze' swept across the country. Schools had a big role to play in the propaganda campaign. A friend of a kamikaze pilot recalls an empty coffin being carried into the school hall. Pupils had to sing a song, written by their teacher after the young man's death, urging 500 more students to enlist and go to war. When she's told this by director Takayuki, the teacher's now elderly daughter is surprised he'd written such a thing. She says he was a mild-mannered man who was unfit for military service due to having had TB. 'He must have felt a sense of inferiority,' she says.