Latest news with #JesusofNazareth
Metro
4 days ago
- General
- Metro
Lost 300-year-old ship carrying £101,000,000 worth of treasure discovered
Archaeologists have discovered a 300-year-old shipwreck with a hoard of treasure, but the fate of the 200 slaves on board remains unknown. The Portuguese ship which is believed to be the Nossa Senhora do Cabo fell victim to pirates in 1721 off the coast of Madagascar. It was transporting around 200 slaves and cargo from Goa, India, to Lisbon when it became involved in what is considered one of the most infamous pirate raids in history on the Portuguese empire. But after 16 years of investigation, researchers at the Center for Historic Shipwreck Preservation found the wreck in Ambodifotatra Bay, near the island of Nosy Boraha. More than 3,300 artefacts have since been pulled from the site, which includes religious icons, pearls and treasure chests. An ivory plaque was also discovered with gold letters reading 'INRI', which is a Latin abbreviation for 'Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews'. Researchers Brandon A. Clifford and Mark R. Agostini from Brown University who led the research said the haul is 'eyewatering treasure, even by pirate standards'. The haul could be worth £108 million in today's currency. Enslaved people who were forced to travel on the route were then made to work in ports and mines throughout the Portuguese Empire. Ships through the key route between India and Europe were often prime targets for pirates. Pirates would also sell enslaved people for a profit. It comes after Captain Cook's missing ship, the HMS Endeavour, was found after 250 years. For two centuries this ship has been lost, but now the wreck has been found in Newport Harbour, Rhode Island. The finding of the ship was announced in a report by the Australian National Maritime Museum. Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@ For more stories like this, check our news page.
02-07-2025
- General
Ultranationalism Lingers Within Shintō's Shadowy Leadership
Shintō shrines are a familiar presence in every corner of Japan, yet few here are aware of the powerful national organization that oversees them—let alone its historical and ideological ties to State Shintō. The author sheds light on Jinja Honchō's origins and activities. Shintō, Japan's indigenous religious tradition, has no founder and no definitive scripture. It originated from an ancient animistic, polytheistic folk religion that deified mountains, megaliths, and other features and forces of nature. Animism and polytheism are by no means unique to Japan but can be found throughout the world. Hinduism, the indigenous Phi animism of Southeast Asia, and Native American shamanism are just a few examples. What is unusual about Shintō is the fact that it has a strong leadership organization despite being a natural religion with no codified system of beliefs. Organized and Natural Religions Natural religions have no identifiable founders and no definitive scriptures. Believers are free to commune with their divinities and practice their faith as they see fit, with no need for top-down supervision. Hinduism has upwards of 1.1 billion followers, but there is no overarching 'Hindu church' and no single entity with authority over matters of Hindu doctrine. That is typical of natural religions. By contrast, Catholicism, Christianity's largest church, has a hierarchical organization led by the pope and headquartered in the Vatican. It traces its origins to Jesus of Nazareth, and it has a holy scripture, the Bible. From the beginning, it has had a leader and a set of doctrines united by fairly clear-cut principles. The Vatican functions as a kind of executive body that prevents clergy members or followers from undermining the doctrinal discipline of the faith with their own individual interpretations of Christian theology. For much the same reason, each sect of Buddhism generally has a head temple that exerts authority over the others and functions as a unifying symbol of that sect. Shintō differs somewhat from the majority of natural religions in that it does in fact have a central executive body, known as Jinja Honchō (Association of Shintō Shrines). Headquartered in Tokyo's Shibuya, this 'comprehensive religious corporation' boasts a membership of more than 78,000 shrines all around Japan. It also oversees around 20,000 priests (kannushi), whom it groups into five ranks (jōkai, meikai, seikai, gonseikai, and chokkai). These priests take a portion of the offerings collected by their shrines and contribute it to the association, which has an annual operating budget of roughly ¥5 billion. Jinja Honchō also draws up and enforces various regulations governing the operation of member shrines, including rules—some carrying penalties—pertaining to the conduct of Shintō rites and the management of shrine finances. In short, it tells the shrines and priests what they may and may not do. Is a body like Jinja Honchō really necessary for a natural religion like Shintō? A good number of priests have asked this question and even called openly for the organization's elimination. But how did such a body ever come to wield control over a natural religion like Shintō? The answer lies in the politicization of Shintō during the modern era. The Shrines of State Shintō The religion that has exerted the greatest spiritual influence over the Japanese people during their long history is Buddhism. Entering Japan in the sixth century, Buddhism impressed the Japanese with its sophistication, having an actual founder (Siddhartha Gautama, or Sakyamuni Buddha) and systematic teachings codified in various scriptures, or sutras. The emperor himself converted to Buddhism, and thereafter the ruling class embraced the religion, erecting great temples in cities like Nara and Kyoto. Meanwhile, Buddhism and Shintō intermingled in a number of ways. The Chinese-derived architecture of Buddhist temples affected the construction of Shintō shrines, and Buddhist services are said to have influenced Shintō ceremonies. The Heian period (794–1185) saw the spread of honji suijaku, the theory that Shintō kami were incarnations of Buddhist deities. It became increasingly common for shrines to be incorporated inside temple complexes. It is said that by the Edo period (1603–1868), few people—especially among the general public—even distinguished between temples and shrines. But this syncretism between Shintō and Buddhism (shinbutsu shūgō) did not sit well with the architects of the Meiji Restoration (1868), who toppled the semi-feudal Tokugawa shogunate in order to establish a modern nation with the emperor as head of state. Japan's emperors trace their lineage back to the sun goddess Amaterasu Ōmikami, one of Shintō's most important kami, or deities. The architects of the restoration believed that establishing Shintō as the de facto state religion would solidify the emperor's status as the nation's supreme ruler. Thus was born the institution known as State Shintō. In 1868, the fledgling Meiji government moved to suppress Buddhism with an imperial order on the separation of the two religions (Shinbutsu Hanzen Rei). That set off an anti-Buddhist movement (haibutsu kishaku), which led to the destruction or closure of many temples. Of the Shintō shrines familiar to people nowadays, a large number were created artificially during the modern era with government backing. Under the Empire of Japan (1868–1945), shrines were treated as state facilities and priests as government officials. Fallout from the 'Shintō Directive' The environment surrounding Shintō changed abruptly with Japan's defeat in World War II. The US Occupation authorities, viewing Shintō as the wellspring of Japanese militarism, moved quickly to abolish State Shintō. In addition, the Constitution that they drafted, promulgated in 1946, explicitly mandated religious freedom and the separation of religion from government. Within the Shintō community, there was deep concern that many of Japan's shrines would not survive if suddenly deprived of government support and guidance. In 1946, leaders of that community created Jinja Honchō as a nongovernmental religious organization to replace such state organs as the Home Ministry's Bureau of Shrines and Institute of Divinities, which had been entrusted with shrine administration under the prewar government. Given this history, the upper echelon of shrine priests—the core of Jinja Honchō's leadership—have tended to view themselves as victims of the Occupation's coercive, misguided policies, which abruptly wrenched the priesthood out from under the government's wing. Of course, there is an element of truth to the accusation that the Occupation's religious policies were precipitate and high-handed. But some of those at the core of Jinja Honchō are driven by a deeper ideological aversion to the democratic reforms undertaken by the Occupation. They see it as their mission to overturn the postwar Constitution and restore the State Shintō of the prewar era. Indeed, over the years there has been a distinctly nationalist, reactionary tinge to the Jinja Honchō's activities. The organization's political arm, the Shintō Association of Spiritual Leadership (Shintō Seiji Renmei) has aggressively courted and supported far-right members of the ruling Liberal Democratic Party and in so doing has exerted a significant influence on Japanese politics. That said, today—80 years after the end of World War II—there are very few living priests who actually remember the situation before and shortly after the war. The status of shrines as private-sector religious corporations is more or less taken for granted, and the Shintō world has adapted to that reality. Few of the working priests with whom I have spoken seem to harbor strong political views. Where the future of Shintō is concerned, most seem to support the status quo. By the same token, however, one sees little evidence of the sort of ideals and aspirations that might help steer a new course for an organization born of resentment against the United States. Tanaka's Entrenched Leadership Over the past few years, serious rifts have emerged within Jinja Honchō's leadership. In the wake of scandals over real estate dealings, President Tanaka Tsunekiyo (age 81) has been the focus of mounting criticism, and at one time Tanaka himself spoke of stepping down. But in May this year, he was elected for the sixth time. If he serves out this last term, he will have reigned over the association for 18 years, despite the customary limit of two three-year terms. Of course, this situation has drawn a good deal of criticism, including talk of a 'Tanaka dictatorship.' But ultimately the situation reflects the state of the Shintō community, which is plagued by stagnation and a lack of new blood entering the priesthood. The individual shrines scattered about Japan are under no obligation to join Jinja Honchō. Fed up with the stultifying atmosphere that persists under the prevailing leadership, more and more shrines are opting to leave the association and strike out on their own. But such dispersion raises further questions about Shintō's long-term vitality and survival. What we need now is the collective will to forge a new understanding of the role of Shintō in contemporary Japanese society. (Originally published in Japanese. Banner photo: Headquarters of Jinja Honchō in Tokyo's Shibuya, April 2024. © Jiji.)
Spectator
04-06-2025
- General
- Spectator
Church teaching on homosexuality can be revised
Studies of Christianity's problems and prospects often entail a distinction between the singer and the song. At an institutional level, the world's largest faith is in deep trouble throughout much of western Europe – and increasingly in North America, too. Widely rehearsed elsewhere, the reasons for this steep decline include the spread of individualism along with an allied flouting of deference, mistrust of agencies said to lie beyond the tangible, and self-inflicted wounds such as the abuse crisis. Yet many who mourn the spread of secularisation remind us that for all its flaws, the Church has a good story to tell overall. How so? Two answers stand out. First, Christian outreach still forms the largest single source of social capital on Earth. Second, when properly framed, the gospel message is both more reasonable and more inclusive than imagined either by sceptics or some stiff-necked believers. It supplies the richest available underpinning for values, including the sanctity of life, the dignity of the individual and human stewardship of the environment. Preachers can thus insist that we are not just animals wired up to the struggle for survival. Meaning, mattering and the quest for transcendence – a higher dimension of reality embodying more exalted values – are not illusions. Side by side with this awareness stands the belief that Jesus of Nazareth's life was a self-revelatory act of God. Though the claim is disputed on many grounds, its foundations remain robust. Why rehearse all this? Because the merits of Lamorna Ash's book do not include the ground-clearing needed to establish co-ordinates for her very ambitious project.
News18
17-05-2025
- Politics
- News18
Uganda President's Son Live-Tweets Torture From His Basement
Last Updated: General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, son of Uganda's President Museveni, shared a video on X showing activist Edward Ssebuufu's torture. Kainerugaba is likely Museveni's successor. The son of Uganda President Yoweri Museveni, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba, has shared a video on X displaying the ordeal of a torture victim under dictatorship. In the video, the suffering of Edward Ssebuufu, a prominent opposition activist, was shown to the world by Kainerugaba, the Telegraph reported. Notably, Muhoozi Kainerugaba (51) is Commander of Uganda's Armed Forces and the man most likely to succeed his 80-year-old father as President. The sons of the dictator have often been accused of violent behaviour – Col Muammar Gaddafi's one-time heir, Saif al-Islam, carries an indictment for alleged crimes against humanity – yet only Kainerugaba has apparently chosen to live-post his cruelty to 1.1 million social media followers. In those posts, Kainerugaba's X account revels in Ssebuufu's agony and degradation, describing how the prisoner was supposedly 'crying" and 'urinating", before adding, 'I still have to castrate him." Kainerugaba, received a bachelors degree in political science from Nottingham University in 1997 and passed out of Sandhurst in 2000. He proclaims his goal to ascend to the pinnacle of power. advetisement Kainerugaba's previous outbursts have already earned him notoriety. He has in many ways praised Vladimir Putin as a 'hero", even offered to send Ugandan troops to fight for Russia. Besides he had also threatened to invade neighbouring Kenya ('two weeks to capture Nairobi"); and had also expressed his desire to marry Giorgia Meloni, the Italian Prime Minister. The background on his X homepage carries an image of Robert Powell playing Jesus Christ in the 1977 miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. Ssebuufu, Head of Security for Uganda's opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi, disappeared after being arrested near the capital, Kampala, on April 27. Four days later, Kainerugaba's X account announced that Ssebuufu was in his captivity. This followed a series of tweets glorying in ordeal of the prisoner. 'The beards were the first thing the boys removed. After he finished crying and urinating," read one post. Watch India Pakistan Breaking News on CNN-News18. Get breaking news, in-depth analysis, and expert perspectives on everything from geopolitics to diplomacy and global trends. Stay informed with the latest world news only on News18. Download the News18 App to stay updated! tags : uganda Location : Uganda First Published: May 17, 2025, 12:37 IST
Yahoo
14-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
The dictator's son livetweeting torture from his basement
The man's eyes are filled with terror, his shoulders bare, his once prominent beard has gone. Reduced to a state of desperation, he seems to be imploring a tormentor for mercy. In some dictatorships, torture occurs furtively in underground cells, but the ordeal of Edward Ssebuufu, a prominent opposition activist, shows that Uganda under President Yoweri Museveni is brazenly different. Ssebuufu's suffering was not just displayed to the world but posted live on X (formerly Twitter), proudly and boisterously, in all its stages of sadism. This was done not by an over-zealous secret policeman but by the social media account of the dictator's Sandhurst-educated son, General Muhoozi Kainerugaba. And the son is not some marginalised embarrassment but the Commander of Uganda's Armed Forces and the man most likely to succeed his 80-year-old father as President. The sons of despots have often been accused of brutish behaviour – Col Muammar Gaddafi's one-time heir, Saif al-Islam, carries an indictment for alleged crimes against humanity – yet only Kainerugaba has apparently chosen to live-post his cruelty to 1.1 million social media followers. In those posts, Kainerugaba's X account revels in Ssebuufu's agony and degradation, describing how the prisoner was supposedly 'crying' and 'urinating', before adding: 'I still have to castrate him.' Kainerugaba, who graduated in political science from Nottingham University in 1997 and passed out of Sandhurst in 2000, proclaims his ambition to ascend to the pinnacle of power. That prospect might chill many Ugandans who remember the blood-soaked reign of another soldier, Idi Amin, yet the reality is that Kainerugaba has every chance of achieving his goal. When old age eventually strikes down Museveni, who seized the presidency nearly 40 years ago, the son's command of the army would place him in pole position to ensure a hereditary succession in a country that calls itself a Republic. 'I would really worry about the prospect of him becoming President,' says one Ugandan journalist with calculated understatement. 'But when I set aside my personal feelings and analyse it objectively, I find that there's a real possibility of this happening.' Kainerugaba's previous outbursts have already earned him notoriety. He has variously praised Vladimir Putin as a 'hero'; offered to send Ugandan troops to fight for Russia; threatened to invade neighbouring Kenya ('two weeks to capture Nairobi'); and announced his desire to marry Giorgia Meloni, the Italian Prime Minister. His profile page on X carries an image of Robert Powell playing Jesus Christ in the 1977 miniseries Jesus of Nazareth. If Kainerugaba, 51, represents the future of Uganda, his latest excess may be the most instructive. Ssebuufu, Head of Security for Uganda's opposition leader Robert Kyagulanyi (better known by his stage name Bobi Wine), disappeared after being arrested near the capital, Kampala, on April 27. Four days later, Kainerugaba's X account announced that Ssebuufu was 'in my basement'. Then came a stream of tweets glorying in the torment of the prisoner. 'The beards were the first thing the boys removed. After he finished crying and urinating,' reads one post. 'If you see Eddie's head now he looks like an egg. Totally clean,' says the next. Then: 'Eddie started crying as soon as the boys grabbed him.' Kainerugaba's account describes how the prisoner was being forced to defer to an image of the President. 'Eddie is looking very smart these days. The boys have tuned him well. He salutes Mzee's [Museveni's] picture every day before breakfast.' Over and again, the posts under Kainerugaba's name threaten to inflict the same ordeal on Wine, derisively referred to as 'Kabobi'. 'Next is Kabobi!' says one post. 'I have never joked in my life. I don't know why people think my tweets are jokes.' Whether Ssebuufu's torture was taking place in the basement of Kainerugaba's own house in Kampala is unclear, though one post says as much. The regime has a network of locations, known without irony as 'safe houses', where opposition activists are regularly detained and abused. Ssebuufu may have been held in one of them. On May 5, eight days after his arrest, he appeared in court in the town of Masaka, 80 miles south-west of Kampala, unable to stand without help. Ssebuufu, also known as Eddie Mutwe, was charged with robbery and remanded in custody in Masaka prison, where over 1,000 inmates occupy a jail designed for half that number. Two days later, Wine was allowed to visit Ssebuufu. Afterwards the opposition leader, visibly shaken, described exactly what he had learnt of his friend's suffering. 'We saw him and he was tortured very badly,' said Wine. 'He was tortured for three days and on the third day Muhoozi Kainerugaba came himself personally and beat him, tortured him, and his men tortured Eddie Mutwe in the presence of Muhoozi. He was electrocuted, he was waterboarded and so many terrible things happened to him.' Wine's description of Ssebuufu's ordeal tallied with Kainerugaba's social media posts. 'He was forced to salute Museveni's picture every day,' said the opposition leader. 'He was stripped naked and, later on, when he was given a piece of cloth, he was only given a Museveni T-shirt.' Lawyers representing Ssebuufu were allowed to visit him and confirmed his torture, though without mentioning Kainerugaba's personal involvement. 'He has been over-tortured for all the days he has been in detention, in irregular detention,' said Magellan Kazibwe, one of Ssebuufu's lawyers. 'He has told me and my colleague that he was tortured every day, five times, and they were beating him using these wires of electricity. They were electrocuting him. They were squeezing him, including his private parts. He is in great pain. He has not accessed any doctor up to now. He is in a very appalling and bad health state.' Ssebuufu was later reported to have received treatment at Masaka prison's medical facility. The fate of his security chief will be bitterly familiar to Wine, who endured 10 days of beatings and torture in military barracks in 2018. His injuries were so severe that he had to leave Uganda for medical care in the United States. When he ran against Museveni in the last presidential election, Wine was arrested in the middle of the campaign. As supporters mounted street protests demanding his release, the security forces opened fire with live rounds, killing at least 54 people in Kampala in November 2020 and arresting thousands more. On polling day, January 15 2021, Wine was placed under house arrest while the regime disconnected Uganda from the internet and announced a rigged result, giving him 34 per cent of the vote and handing Museveni victory with 58 per cent. Now, Wine is preparing to run against Museveni once again in the election due in January next year, which will also mark the 40th anniversary of the President capturing Kampala as a rebel leader and taking power in January 1986. In the first decade of his rule, Museveni managed to stabilise Uganda after years of ruinous civil war and the dictatorships of Idi Amin and Milton Obote. At that time, Britain and America regarded him as a reformer who deserved their support. They continued to indulge Museveni even as he twice rewrote the constitution to prolong his grip on power, first by abolishing term limits and then removing the age limit. Even now, as Museveni resorts to torture and repression against his opponents – and Kainerugaba waits in the wings – Uganda still receives £31.6 million of British aid. Wine, a musician and actor raised in one of Kampala's poorest areas, has built an opposition movement, the National Unity Platform, that carries the hopes of Ugandans who strive to escape their dictatorship. The agony of Edward Ssebuufu reminds them of the risks of defying Museveni. The dictator's son, who appeared to glory in the suffering of a human being, reminds Ugandans of the rule that may await them. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
