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New Statesman
a day ago
- Politics
- New Statesman
Keir Starmer has time to turn this around
Photo by Benjamin Cremel/Getty A country only changes direction when the behaviour of its people does. Margaret Thatcher believed this. She is the principal protagonist of the new Adam Curtis BBC documentary series Shifty, a collage analysis of modern Britain reviewed in the New Statesman last week. In it, Curtis shows her at the depths of the monetarism chaos, telling her party they must think in terms of several parliaments: 'We have to move this country in a new direction; to change the way we look at things; to create a wholly new attitude of mind… To shake off the self-doubt induced by decades of dependence on the state as master and not as servant.' I am not advocating Thatcherism which, during that period, gutted and demolished so many great British companies and industries that might have survived to this day, hollowing out towns and communities which have still not recovered. But there are two things for Keir Starmer's team to think about in what feels like a crisis that, though very different, is as profound. The first is to keep focused on the middle distance during a blur of terrible headlines and weekly chaos. Real change takes time. Starmer feels this himself, exuding an unearthly private calm as he recites the long-term investments being made, and better prospects for British firms in sectors threatened by tariffs. It's almost a 'calm down, kids' mood. Leaders are often seen as strange quasi-parents. Thatcher was the revered-or-evil mother, chivvying us along or depriving us of milk. Starmer is the slightly distant father, increasingly derided by his rebel children. But even as he's told he is too unpopular in the polls to survive, he is thinking of at least a decade to change the country. He believes we are not broken. We are just a bit too poor. With more money and the dignity, over time, of a better car parked outside the house and a better holiday next year, everything will feel different. That's it. That's his vision. But here is where the more important lesson begins. As in the 1980s, our problems are more structural. Not enough of us are working, and those who are are not working productively enough. We have become entitled. Our communities are fissured by mutual dislike, fear and suspicion. This is a social crisis. And that, in turn, I think explains the otherwise bizarre loathing of Starmer, a decent, serious and empathetic man. He loves meeting people in their workplaces and at home and recently invited hundreds who had helped inform his politics during his tours around the country back to Downing Street to thank them. I can't think of another prime minister who has done that. Yet he is not addressing, calling out, naming and providing answers to those deeper, corrosive problems. And angry, unsettled people hate him for that. The collapse of the welfare bill is an excellent example of what has gone wrong. A system designed for those in wheelchairs, or with severe disabilities that might make it hard to wash, or move around, or dress, has been steadily expanded – particularly since the pandemic – to provide cash for people who are not working because they are depressed, stressed or anxious. A better, more urgent national leadership would have challenged the country, challenged us, about this: is it right? Real reform would have started a year ago with the Prime Minister relentlessly trying to start a national conversation about benefits, challenging campaigners, engaging MPs, and only then bringing forward 'back to work' reform plans. This is not what happened. Disability groups were left in the dark and became increasingly suspicious. MPs were brushed aside. And in the end, the changes did not make logical sense. In many cases the personal independence payments had kept people in work. The belief spread that Starmer, Rachel Reeves and the Work and Pensions Secretary, Liz Kendall, were going after wheelchair users and those in chronic pain – even some Labour MPs thought that. Bloodied water under the bridge? The most recent argument, about cuts to special educational needs and disabilities (Send), feels very similar. The way things are going, I predict another government retreat (though details on any changes to Send provision are not expected to be released until later this year), not only because, as my colleague Rachel Cunliffe has explained, MPs get accustomed to the habit of rebellion, but also because there is an imbalance in the public argument. On the one hand, there are highly articulate, media-savvy voices, campaigning groups and a new far-left group forming around Jeremy Corbyn, with already-suspicious voters at their backs; on the other, there are voiceless civil servants and not particularly articulate ministers. Well, you can see how this is likely to go. There is an equivalent conversation to be had – which isn't being had – about migration and the changing make-up of the country. The government is conducting an inquiry into anti-Muslim hatred. Its terms of reference include that any definition of Islamophobia 'must be compatible with…freedom of speech and expression – which includes the right to criticise, express dislike of, or insult religions'. That ought to comfort those (such as me) who would resolutely oppose a new back-door blasphemy law that singled out criticism of Islam as somehow more heinous than that of, for instance, Christianity, Judaism or Hinduism. But because neither Starmer nor any other senior government minister wants to make a big explicit argument about the place of Islam in a fundamentally post-Christian country, conspiracy theories swirl and curdle. As ever, it's about language, finding the right words, catching attention, winning arguments and wanting to change behaviour, even when it's hard, even when it's among minority communities. What we might call 'the Tragedy of Rachel's Tears' has weakened Starmer. It weakens him because it provides an unforgettable image of a flailing administration and because it forces him to guarantee her job throughout this parliament. That, in turn, makes it even harder to break from previous orthodoxy on taxation – which, as the New Statesman argued last issue, is essential. But this could be a strengthening moment, too. Starmer privately accepts he needs a far better relationship with his parliamentary party. I hope he is beginning a journey that persuades him parliamentary politics is not a disease but a necessity. Beyond that, I hope he is starting to understand there are fundamental things wrong in the country which will require more radical politics, and far bolder, sharper public language. More on migration and communities; more on crime; more on Europe; more on tax and fairness. Money in our pocket is not the only solution. To achieve the fresh start that is now so plainly and obviously needed, Starmer needs more instinctively political people around him. Morgan McSweeney is a brilliant and loyal operator, but he can't do everything. The cabinet needs to step up and start to operate as a political council. There are some exceptional ministerial and back-bench talents that need to be tutored, brought in and listened to harder. The author and former policy wonk Torsten Bell, for instance, is a future chancellor – if he can be shaped into the political beast he'd need to be. If Starmer is looking for help with a clearer narrative, I'd recommend his battle-hardened Trade Minister, Douglas Alexander. And the Scottish parliamentary party is brimming with underused, potentially helpful talent. Because – in a final throwback to that early Thatcher speech – there is a lot of time left, plus what is, still, a majority most previous prime ministers would have given all their teeth for. It is a bit early to be writing them off. The government has done good work. It's also been far too bad at politics, too inarticulate. It has been raw, and inexperienced. It's made bad mistakes. But the only truly lethal mistake is not to learn from them. [See more: Netanyahu bends the knee for Trump] Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Related
New Statesman
2 days ago
- Politics
- New Statesman
Why the public will keep gambling on Nigel Farage
Photo by Benjamin Cremel/AFP There is a new buzz-phrase in British politics. Whether it's a description of the mood of disillusioned electors willing to gamble on voting for a non-mainstream party, or, in the context of Labour's political strategy (and the case for Keir Starmer) taking more calculated risks, it's all about rolling the dice. When it comes to the former, the public is evidently angry with mainstream politics. Living standards have been stagnant for the best part of two decades, taxes are high and public services are under strain. The Tories were a shambles – the Brexit impasse, partygate, the mini-Budget, four prime ministers in five years – but, a year on from Labour's landslide victory, impatient voters are quick to ask if anything much has changed for the better. If the Conservatives remain unforgiven and Labour appears not to be up to the task, the public, who no longer have strong party allegiances, will look elsewhere. The biggest fear for the mainstream parties is that voters in their millions decide to take a punt on Reform. They might have only had five MPs elected at the last general election (and two no longer receive the whip), but the message from doorsteps and focus groups is that Reform is being considered a serious option by many voters who believe they have nothing to lose. The 'nothing-to-lose' sentiment can be powerful. It almost took Scotland out of the UK in 2014, succeeded in taking the UK out of the EU in a referendum two years later and contributed to Jeremy Corbyn's strong performance in 2017. Politics has been susceptible to shocks since the global financial crisis. Opinion polls suggest we are heading for another – and that's before voters come to terms with a further big tax increase, the announcement of which in an autumn budget now looks inevitable. Reform's lead is only likely to grow as a result. Working out how to respond to the public mood involves breaking that mood down to its constituent parts. First, the state of the country is bad. Second, mainstream parties seem to be incapable of rectifying this. Third, matters are so bad that it is hard to see how a radical change of direction could make matters worse, and they might just make them better. On the state of the country, the government could seek to challenge the current negativity, but would be wise not to. To the extent that US President Joe Biden was able to convey a clear message before abandoning his re-election campaign, it was to tell the American people that they were wrong to feel so downbeat about the state of the economy. On the facts, he had a point, but as an electoral strategy it did not work. The more important issue is whether the government can convince the public it is capable of turning the country around and, in particular, deliver economic growth. This is in part about narrative – a clear explanation of how it intends to get the country to a better place – and in part about implementing policies that will contribute to achieving this objective. The government has to both tell and show. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe It is in this context that talk of how Starmer himself has to roll the dice and take risks is proliferating. The wisdom of this advice depends upon which risks one has in mind. The precarious nature of the public finances and the nervousness of the bond markets – as exposed by the reaction to Rachel Reeves' tears at Prime Minister's Questions – mean that fiscal caution is essential. Last week's events also mean that the risk of parliamentary rebellions and defeats has increased. This leaves Starmer with little room for manoeuvre, having to operate in the space between what is fiscally responsible and what is acceptable to his backbenchers. Nonetheless, when it comes to taking political risks to deliver economic growth, he has got to try. Then there is the third aspect of the public mood, that there is nothing to lose. However bad matters might be now, this is not true. We only have to go back to autumn 2022 to know what happens when a blasé attitude to unfunded tax cuts is put into operation (Nigel Farage, of course, was an enthusiast for the Truss/Kwarteng mini-Budget). Reform's economic agenda is just one big fiscal risk that could be devastating to mortgage holders and small businesses. For all his considerable political skills, Farage shows no sign of being able to articulate a coherent policy platform. Nor is there any prospect of Reform being able to put forward a team of credible ministers who would have the first idea of how to solve a complex problem. As for the idea that Farage represents 'clean hands' and is uncontaminated by the policy failures of the past, he was instrumental in the biggest policy decision this country has taken in the last decade, and even he does not think that Brexit has gone well. It might be worth reminding the public of that. For the moment, a good proportion of the public is not listening to these arguments. Labour's challenge is convincing these voters that a gamble on Reform will come at a cost by the time we get to the next election; that they have something to lose and nothing to gain; to make voters more risk-averse. In short, the next election is going to have to be seen as being much more important than a game of dice. [See also: Starmerism is disintegrating] Related
New Statesman
3 days ago
- Politics
- New Statesman
Starmerism is disintegrating
Photo by Benjamin Cremel -The decline in support for Labour over the last 12 months has been unprecedented. A party that won almost 34 per cent last July has, within a year, fallen among some pollsters to the low 20s. Yet even that understates the extent of the party's demise. At the outset of the last general election, when Rishi Sunak stood outside Downing Street – soaked by a late Spring shower – many placed Labour in the mid-40s. The more the electorate saw of our now Prime Minister, the less enthusiastic they became. Labour's declining support in office should therefore be viewed as continuing a trend that started before they even gained power. The 'loveless landslide' of 2024 wasn't a vote for the 'grown ups' to quietly re-assert the politics of yesteryear, but a clear signal that every vote, and every media cycle, would be a battle. The incoming government, Keir Starmer and Rachel Reeves most of all, weren't paying attention – which meant the opening months of their administration was defined by free silk ties and Taylor Swift tickets. To all intents and purposes they still haven't adapted. At a time of parliamentary breakaways, populism, and electoral fragmentation, what is the constituency of this government? In an age of Zohran Mamdani outlining complex policy issues with a lav mic in hand, and Nigel Farage reaching millions on TikTok (and Cameo), what precisely is its communications strategy? How do they craft their message to a range of audiences? And, most importantly, what is their message? These are no longer abstract questions for insiders, or political rivals with an axe to grind. Last week the Government, with a majority of 156, came close to losing a second reading in parliament – and proceeded to change its landmark welfare reforms in a matter of hours. The last time the government lost a second reading for a piece of domestic legislation was in 1986. For the bond markets that signalled something critical: when it comes to delivering cuts, this government's majority is an illusion. If balancing the books in the autumn requires £30 billion, as is widely believed, that therefore means more tax rises, or a break with the fiscal rules. There is simply no consent within the parliamentary Labour party for substantial reductions to welfare spending. Nor, I suspect, other areas such as policing and local government. That is the problem that now besets this government. Not only was there a lack of clarity about Britain's problems with the electorate before last July – from the massive costs of servicing the public debt to the lack of productivity growth over the last 17 years – but with the party's membership and candidates too. 'I would simply grow the economy,' and 'The Tories are incompetent,' were essentially the positions of Labour in opposition. As many commentators said, including myself, if growth failed to materialise then Treasury rules would necessitate 'fiscal consolidation': tax rises, and cuts to public spending. Many Labour MPs didn't sign up for that, though. Marie Tidball, an extraordinary advocate for people with disabilities, presumably didn't enter parliament to cut Personal Independence Payments. Beth Winter, a Christian socialist, doesn't want to make poor families poorer still. It's possible that even Keir Starmer hadn't worked out the implications of his party's economic platform before entering No 10. Such trivial concerns are seemingly outsourced almost exclusively to the Chancellor. All of which makes the next four months, let alone the next four years, difficult to predict. The autumn budget will be another serious setback for the party, further damaging Reeves' credibility, in all likelihood for good. But it is the Government's response which could be existential. Get things even slightly wrong (including by impelling the Chancellor's exit) and the bond markets will punish them. History tells us it is unusual for a Chancellor to go and the PM not to be irreversibly tarnished. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Even if Starmer survives the autumn, and the winter, which seems probable given his majority, next May brings another momentous challenge. With elections in every London borough, across England's large cities, and Scotland and Wales too, the government could be overwhelmed by challengers to both their left and right. In London, the Greens will want to make gains in places like Southwark and Hackney (focus on their overall percentage as much as councillors won), while Reform will be chasing Labour votes in Havering and Barking and Dagenham. Right now, Keir Starmer's party is also polling third in Scotland and Wales, behind Reform in the party's historic Celtic heartlands. The question of a new party of the left, meanwhile, is somewhat moot – even if the nature of a Corbyn-Sultana vehicle remains unclear. Whether it takes national form or not, by May expect a profusion of successful left-independents and hyper-localist parties. With or without parliamentary leadership, they will cause major problems for Labour. Then there's the small matter of party finances. This year could see Labour's membership fall beneath that of Reform; indeed that may already have happened since the party's general secretary recently refused to disclose membership data to the National Executive Committee. A falling membership goes hand-in-hand with downward finances. According to LabourList, the party is unable to balance its books this year, and will need 'at least £4 million' to fight elections in 2026. With major elections looming – and the party's vote being nibbled by at least five parties, a lack of funding further hampers effective campaigning. Abysmal polling, a national crisis after the autumn, dreadful results in May and organisational finances in disarray: a party doom loop starts to look likely. All of which means that, by next September at the latest, Labour will need to conjure something new: a different leader, a drastic change in policy direction, or both. But that will almost certainly not happen, as justified caution with regard to the rising costs of government debt is joined by the absence of an ideological apparatus to make sense of what is happening. The sell of Starmerism was simple, dangerously so in fact. We now know that a country with little growth, an ageing population and fragmenting politics, needed more than rhetorical allusions to competence and a nice haircut. After Zarah Sultana posted about her departure from the party on X, Gurinder Josan – himself a Labour MP for Smethwick, and a key player within the Labour First faction (which sit on the right of the party) – counter-posed 'far-left' ideology and the 'serious business of government'. But that is entirely the problem for Starmer. In a world of shifting geopolitical realities, energy transition and demographic ageing you need an analytical lens – dare I say an ideology – to understand things. Until the Labour leadership grasp that insight, the government will remain rudderless. Don't bet on that happening before the next general election though. It would require a capacity for self-criticism – and a renunciation of everything Starmer's political career has been built upon. [See also: Could Gaza unite the new left against Keir Starmer?] Related
New Statesman
14-05-2025
- Politics
- New Statesman
Starmer can rewrite the history of Brexit
Photo by Benjamin Cremel/AFP It is time, at long last, to cancel that sly political elision 'Europe' instead of 'European Union'. It's time to forget the shorthand, so lazy, which takes the name of a varied land mass of our neighbours and applies it unthinkingly to the political project run from Brussels. Why? Because the confusion has driven us dotty. We have never left real Europe and can't, any more than we can arrange a political exit from the planet. On Monday 19 May, Keir Starmer can begin to bring this nonsense to an end. We are making a historic turn, a proper handshake, with Europe; yet not with the EU, its grey and ponderous political blender. I'm a child of the postwar period, for whom Europe was a vision of a better future, tantalising long before I ever first made it to the continent as a tousled 18-year-old. America was big cars, burgers, westerns, rock. But Europe was smouldering cinema, sexy songs and mouthwatering food. Europe was people like we Scots but eating better, living in better-looking towns and with better weather. Yes, America was Marvel. But Europe was Asterix. There were always other Europes available, of course – football Europe, warmongering Europe, impoverished Europe. My idea of it, I fully admit, was limited – uproariously bourgeois; trivial; sensual. Yet I think it was not uncommon. It helps anatomise the pain of many so-called 'Remoaners', the defeated Cavaliers, after the Brexit referendum. There had been always those who went the whole hog and lived the life of snobby expatriates in the Dordogne, Andalusia or Tuscany – the clay-coloured, linen-wrapped Peter Mayle people. But far beyond those, for many normal middle-class British people , Europe was just a thoroughly nice place to be next to. We shared their values. So we memorised their verbs. From this perspective, 'leaving' was simply insane. Giving up the free and easy travel? Giving up the friendly German, Dutch or Belgian students and au pairs? The trade? Why? Because some dreary Brussels officials were making rules we barely notice? Because we're supposed to love Westminster so much? You're having us on, you… you… working-class people – aren't you? And personally, I have always suspected one of the reasons so many unheard working-class people voted for Brexit was precisely that they intuited how much their heedless oppressors loved all things European – they voted to steal the treat-shop from those who barely acknowledged their existence. Now, one day, surely, history will judge the EU, the project of trying to obliterate national differences and create a centralised American-style superpower by twisting the screws of regulatory adjustments and commercial decrees, as noble – but politically insane. For us, there is no going back to that. Subscribe to The New Statesman today from only £8.99 per month Subscribe Meanwhile, this warm spring, three things mean we must think afresh about the living continent of Europe: Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump and our stuttering economy. In my youth, we were pulled towards Europe by shared values and appetites. Today, it's by shared fear. The job of the coming week is to ensure solidarity without merger – to get us back into a strong security and social relationship with our neighbours, without becoming entangled in the disruptive and disheartening mechanisms of the union itself. A year or two ago, informed people thought that impossible. But the invasion of Ukraine and the behaviour of President Trump in office has changed everything. So the summit in Whitehall ought, unless something goes wrong, to give British industry access to a €150bn defence procurement fund; to strike an agreement on food and animal products that will allow much easier trade in both directions; to introduce a capped youth mobility scheme; and to roll forward the previous deal on fishing rights that would, in any case, have had to be renegotiated next year. It opens the way to a deal on energy that would integrate British and European power systems – so that, for instance, a floating offshore windfarm could be used by continental grids and British ones depending on the fluctuations of demand. The deal is not quite done yet. Things could go wrong. The French defence industry would like to keep British manufacturers at arm's length if possible. And when the wind is in a certain direction, France can be just as mulishly protectionist as Trump's America, if not more so. There is plenty, too, to annoy the ideological right. Fresh from opposing an Indian trade deal that will bring some growth and a US one that should save the British car and steel industries, Conservative and Reform-backing politicians and papers will home in on the youth mobility scheme and the (very limited) role of the European Court in overseeing agricultural standards to cry 'betrayal'. We will have to wait to judge the political impact. The British public understands the Putin threat and the unreliability of the US as a long-term partner. They are aware of our profound growth problem: which is why agreements over oil within a market worth £800bn a year, as compared to trade with the US worth £300bn – first rule of trade, proximity matters – should be easy to sell by a self-confident government. But here lies the most important part of the politics. Month after dispiriting month, this Labour government has seemed essentially reactive, whacked by the markets, the Trump revolution, angry voters and growing internal dissent. Too often, it can come across as dazed. Here, at long last, it can own a big move, act rather than react. 'This is the moment for the front foot, to really push what the national interest is,' says an insider. Or, in other words, to pick a fight. The Prime Minister needs to be up for that. If he is prepared to aggressively sell this turn towards Europe – the preferred phrase is 'New Partnership' – as something essential for our security, an act of statecraft both strategic and timely, voters will listen. If he comes out swinging, he can change the weather. This could be the most important moment of his premiership yet. If details have been worked on by the relevant cabinet minister, Nick Thomas-Symonds, for many months. Government insiders are clear that, as the cross-channel relationship broadens and deepens, there is much more to achieve in helping trade in goods and mutual recognition of professional qualifications. In terms of domestic politics, this may help Labour defend its other flank against the Liberal Democrats. From now on there will be annual summits. A more effective European-wide defence industry, a more integrated energy supply system and a friendlier approach to trade with the UK gives the real Europe, extending outside the EU, more resilience and more security. It doesn't put everybody under one roof. But it helps turn geographical neighbours into good neighbours. And that, faced with the military menace from the east, and the unpredictable trade belligerence from across the Atlantic, is a new deal not just worthwhile, but essential. Europe is us. Labour can't avoid a fight, but if it's going to fight, it might as well be something worth fighting for. Whether you voted for or against Brexit, it's obvious that this period has to end with a more supportive and friendlier mood than during the previous frantic, hysterical, pointlessly brittle nine years. Enough of the exhaustion. Enough of the doublespeak. The Brexiteers always told us we'd have a good, grown-up relationship with the EU after it was all over. Well, in part thanks to the White House and in part thanks to the Kremlin, those two ugly stepsisters of today's European folk tale, that moment has finally arrived. [See also: The dangerous relationship] Related
The Guardian
21-03-2025
- General
- The Guardian
A bumpy ride and twin panda cubs: photos of the day
Firefighters douse the flames of a fire that broke out at a substation supplying power to Heathrow airport in west London. Heathrow airport, Europe's busiest, was shut down early on 21 March for 24 hours after a major fire at an electricity substation cut power to the sprawling facility, officials said Photograph: Benjamin Cremel/AFP/Getty Images Passengers are silhouetted on a wall as they wait to board a plane at Peinador airport Photograph: Nacho Doce/Reuters Britain's Prince William, Prince of Wales, spends time with soldiers during his visit to an army base Photograph: Ian Vogler/Reuters Images featuring famous artworks such as The Monarch of the Glen by Sir Edwin Landseer, The Skating Minister by Henry Raeburn and Olive Trees by Vincent van Gogh are projected on to the National Galleries of Scotland in Edinburgh to encourage more people to come and see the nation's art collection Photograph: Jane Barlow/PA Sudanese soldiers celebrate after taking over the Republican Palace Photograph: AP Workers harvesting Longjing tea leaves at a tea garden in Zhejiang Province Photograph: VCG/Getty Images Palestinians use a donkey-pulled cart to transport their belongings as they flee bombing in the Northern Gaza Strip. Gaza's civil defence agency said on 20 March that 504 people had been killed since the bombardment resumed, more than 190 of them minors Photograph: Bashar Taleb/AFP/Getty Images People take part in a protest against Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his government, demanding the release of all hostages in Gaza, near his residence Photograph: Ronen Zvulun/Reuters Toyota Gazoo Racing WRT's British driver Elfyn Evans steers his Toyota GR Yaris Rally1 with British co-driver Scott Martin over a jump at Miti-Mbili in Naivasha Photograph: Tony Karumba/AFP/Getty Images Vermont senator Bernie Sanders rallies alongside New York representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez Photograph: Calvin Stewart/ZUMA Press Wire/REX/Shutterstock (From left) Courtney Hoffos of Canada, Talina Gantenbein of Switzerland, Luisa Klapprott of Germany and Anouck Errard of France in action during the Skicross competition in the FIS Snowboard & Freestyle World Championships Photograph: Gian Ehrenzeller/EPA Mohammed Al-Dahshan drums as he wanders the streets of the Dekernes region during Ramadan to wake people up for sahur, the early morning meal eaten before fasting Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images Actors perform during a general rehearsal for the press night of the opera Sun & Sea at the Colon theatre Photograph: AFP/Getty Images Turkish anti-riot police use water canon as they clash with Middle East Technical University (ODTU) students protesting against the arrest of Istanbul's mayor. Turkish police detained Istanbul's powerful Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu on 19 March, in connection with two investigations into graft and 'supporting terror', a move that the main opposition party slammed as a politically-motivated 'coup' Photograph: Adem Altan/AFP/Getty Images Members of the media take pictures of twin panda cubs Elder Sister and Younger Brother and their mother, Ying Ying, at their enclosure during a media preview at the Ocean Park Photograph: Joyce Zhou/Reuters Kyrgyz artists in national costumes perform during Nowruz celebrations. Nowruz, also known as Nooruz, is an ancient festival celebrated annually on 21 March, recognised by the UN as International Nowruz Day, marking the spring equinox and the new year in many countries along the Silk Roads, including Kyrgyzstan Photograph: Igor Kovalenko/EPA An aerial view of the low water level in the Salt Lake basin, which is among the wetlands that are important for the protection of biodiversity. World Water Day, declared by the United Nations, highlights clean water as a universal human right and raises awareness about the global water crisis Photograph: Anadolu/Getty Images A firefighter works at the site of a Russian drone strike Photograph: State Emergency Service Of Ukraine/Reuters
