Latest news with #TheMercury

Sky News AU
19 hours ago
- Politics
- Sky News AU
Hobart City Council rejects push to make its Acknowledgement of Country speeches optional after councillor argued they were 'ritualistic', similar to 'holy communion'
A proposal to make Acknowledgement of Country speeches optional for Hobart City Council meetings has been voted down despite the push being endorsed by a high-profile Indigenous campaigner. Cr Louise Elliot put forward a motion to remove the item from the agenda and for it to instead take place prior to official proceedings. Cr Elliot likened the practice to religious rituals like "baptism" and "holy communion". "Country in an Aboriginal context is much broader than the geographical term in English language. It's a much more spiritual setting and there's a complex set of things that underpin that. It's much more than the tangible items," she said. "This is about the central concept of consent and giving people the option as to whether they engage with the ritual or whether they don't." Cr Elliot denied the move was about erasing Tasmania's violent history. "Acknowledging history is a really good thing. I don't think we need to do it on a hourly, daily, or even weekly basis,' she said. 'We all know that Aboriginal people were here well before colonisation. We all know that terrible things happened as part of that process, which is really sad." The motion received unexpected support from local Aboriginal activist and Palawa person Nala Mansell. 'I completely agree that offering nothing but words at the beginning of every single meeting, gathering, parliamentary sitting to acknowledge all the horrible things that have happened to Aborigines, and continue to happen to Aborigines, becomes tokenistic,' she told The Mercury. 'The words end up making the person offering those words feel like they've contributed somehow, while offering no benefit whatsoever to Aboriginal people. 'It doesn't give us back any of our stolen lands, it doesn't stop Aboriginal incarceration rates from rising.' Palawa elder Uncle Rodney Dillon said Acknowledgement of Country still has a role in Australia. "As Aboriginal people we feel recognised when we do Welcome to Country. We feel that we're part of the community and the community understands us," he said. "This is not about jamming something down someone's throat. This is about love and putting our arms out and cuddling each other. It's the opposite to what she thinks it is." Uncle Dillon also criticised Cr Elliot's framing of the issue around consent. "We didn't consent to them taking our land either and we didn't consent to them locking up our kids. I know a lot about consent," he said. A council spokesman said there is no formal policy requiring the chair to deliver an Acknowledgement of Country at the start of council meetings or workshops. "However, this practice has been consistently observed since 2015 and is observed by all Tasmanian councils and all capital city councils across Australia," they said. Cr Elliot maintains she was made to feel it was compulsory when chairing committees. "I was told 'no' it needs to stay as an agenda item and my choice then was either to say something that I didn't believe in, which I can't do, or to skip the agenda item and be accused of not following the agenda," she said. "By default being put in that predicament shows that it's not optional."


New York Post
27-06-2025
- Sport
- New York Post
Liberty's Natasha Cloud returns to the site of WNBA betrayal
SAN FRANCISCO — Natasha Cloud's infectious personality was stuffed away like a winter coat when June hits. The woman who often has so many words to say had nothing. This was on a lowly day in early February, when according to Cloud, she learned on Instagram that she had been traded from Phoenix to Connecticut. Advertisement The Mercury, who Cloud said promised her she'd retire with the team, included her at the last minute to get a four-team trade to acquire Satou Sabally and Alyssa Thomas across the finish line. Even worse, Cloud was now going to play for one of the worst teams in the W.

IOL News
26-06-2025
- Business
- IOL News
KZN NPOs face uncertainty as Social Development department alters subsidy payment schedule
KZN NPOs are concerned by a recent change in the subsidy payment schedule announced by the Department of Social Development. Image: Independent Newspapers Archives Non-profit organisations (NPOs) in KwaZulu-Natal are fearful that their work could be in jeopardy after the provincial Department of Social Development in KwaZulu-Natal warned them of a change to the payment schedule for their subsidies. The NPOs said they were concerned that the payment change might result in them not receiving payments on time, or at all which would have a catastrophic impact on their ability to provide social services to the needy and vulnerable. The Mercury has seen the letter from the Social Development department informing NPOs of the change and also spoke to representatives of two NPOs who received it. The NPOs did not want to be named for fear of reprisal. The letter, dated June 22, stated that part of the department's budget has been reallocated by the Provincial Treasury to pay outstanding bills of the Department of Education. This decision comes as the department faced a strike by teachers due to delays in payments for norms and standards. About R900 million has been reallocated from other departments and given to the education department. As a result, the social development department will be paying NPO subsidies using a monthly payment system and not the tranche system it adopted in 2023. According to the NPOs, the tranche system allows the department to pay every three months. The NPOs stated that even this system was not working well, as there were sometimes delays in payment, and they now feared that the issue will worsen. The letter from the Head of Department (HOD) said it was "regrettable that the department cannot continue with this (tranche) system, and we are forced to revert to monthly subsidy payments". Video Player is loading. Play Video Play Unmute Current Time 0:00 / Duration -:- Loaded : 0% Stream Type LIVE Seek to live, currently behind live LIVE Remaining Time - 0:00 This is a modal window. Beginning of dialog window. Escape will cancel and close the window. Text Color White Black Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Background Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Opaque Semi-Transparent Transparent Window Color Black White Red Green Blue Yellow Magenta Cyan Transparency Transparent Semi-Transparent Opaque Font Size 50% 75% 100% 125% 150% 175% 200% 300% 400% Text Edge Style None Raised Depressed Uniform Dropshadow Font Family Proportional Sans-Serif Monospace Sans-Serif Proportional Serif Monospace Serif Casual Script Small Caps Reset restore all settings to the default values Done Close Modal Dialog End of dialog window. Advertisement Next Stay Close ✕ 'This arrangement will reduce the amount of cash available to the department on a monthly basis, and the payment of tranches, monthly subsidies, and invoices will be affected." The department's letter stated it will continue to provide timely payments to NPOs, but the amount of money available is unknown and will be determined by the provincial treasury. One NPO representative said, 'The greatest fear for the NPOs is that they might not get paid at all. In the letter they sent us, there is no indication of when an NPO can expect to get paid. When they implemented the tranche system, they said it was important to use it because that way they could manage their expenses due to cash flow problems. Now they want to go back to the month-to-month system for the very same reason.' Another representative spoke of the devastating impact this could have on operations: 'The workers in this sector are not paid as well as government workers. There are already instances in the NPO sector where workers are paid half their salaries or paid late. This means that some of these workers will not arrive for work because they do not have transport money or cannot pay someone to look after their children, so there is a serious impact on this.' DA member in the Social Development Committee, Shontel De Boer, said they were informed in a meeting that the department wanted to revert to monthly payments, but no resolution had been taken about it. The department confirmed that it had sent the letter to NPOs. Asked whether there is a risk that NPOs might not get paid, it said, 'That will depend on the amount that will be taken to assist Education. The amount is not yet known. Provincial Treasury to determine.' THE MERCURY


Time Out
19-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Time Out
An honest review of Dark Mofo: I screamed into the abyss, and I'd do it again
Where do we draw the line between art that is dark, provocative and challenging, and that which is outright tasteless, excessive, and wrong? Dark Mofo specialises in dancing ferociously on this tedious edge. The Hobart festival just wrapped up its fiery 2025 return with the customary procession and burning of the Ogoh-Ogoh – a giant totem-like effigy crafted by Balinese artists – and it appears that leaning into the provocative has once again (mostly) paid off. (The Mercury is reporting that the festival's return has been an economic success, drawing in more than $50-million dollars in tourist revenue.) Drawing inspiration from pagan solstice rituals, the midwinter festival is all about embracing the blackness of winter, leaning into mischief and debauchery (a suitable theme for a festival spearheaded by MONA, the equally-divisive gallery that put Hobart on the map). Needless to say, I jumped at the chance to finally pop my Dark Mofo cherry this year. And while some detractors are theorising that Dark Mofo has 'lost its edge', what I discovered was a town painted red by a new-age 'Goth Christmas' – and I learned that when you embrace the dark, you might just find the light. Took a knee and screamed into the abyss I was greeted by a discordant chorus of screams as I trudged along Hobart's old industrial waterfront towards Dark Park (a family-friendly festival precinct marked by massive art installations and open fire pits). Just past the site's entrance, which is flanked by towers shooting fireballs into the sky, was a billboard-sized artwork with a message spelled out in large fluorescent letters: 'I'VE COMPOSED A NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM – TAKE A KNEE AND SCREAM UNTIL YOU CAN'T BREATHE'. A theme-park-like soundscape of squeals and yells added to the festival's atmosphere of 'Disneyland, but make it dark'. I dropped to my knees amongst a sea of grown adults, small children and crackly-voiced adolescents, and emptied my lungs into a cathartic roar. I felt lighter – like I had just been given permission to open a release-valve on some of the emotional baggage I had unwillingly hauled to Hobart with me. But later, when reading up on the origins of the artwork ('Neon Anthem' by Nicholas Galanin, a First Nations Tlingit and Unangax artist from Alaska) I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable about the way the piece's original message (as a pointed statement about the tragic murders of men of colour that sparked the Black Lives Matter movement) would be left unexplored by the majority of festivalgoers that came into contact with it. (As well as Dark Mofo itself, whose one-line description of the artwork is pretty light on details.) Witnessed a spectacular high-speed car crash The main act of Dark Mofo's opening weekend was a high-adrenaline piece of performance art, centered on two vehicles locked in a high-speed dance culminating in a visceral head-on collision. Standing amongst the spectators of all ages (some still in prams) gathered in the grandstands on the far side of Dark Park at the Regatta Grounds (where folks would usually gather for sailing events), I felt like I was witnessing the modern-day equivalent to a gladiator battle. The opponents participating in 'Crash Body': Brazilian artist Paula Garcia (performing the latest chapter of a two-decade-long project) going head-to-head with a professional stunt driver. Many spectators peeled off during a tense waiting period where nothing much happened, but when the drivers finally took off, the action was swift and explosive. Being stuck at the back of the crowd and cursed by my modest height, I didn't manage to see the moment of impact, but I heard it – the unmistakable smack of machine against machine – followed by a rising plume of white smoke, and a spontaneous roar of cheers and applause. Waiting around for the performance to start in earnest may have been uncomfortable, but that was nothing compared to the stress of the wait for the artist to emerge from her car. The stunt driver extracted himself quite quickly, but a sense of unease settled over the crowd as we waited for Garcia to be freed from the crumpled car. ('What if she's, like, is actually hurt?') The cheers that erupted when she did, eventually, get out and wave were next level. How ethical is it to perform a very-possibly-deadly stunt to a big crowd? Especially when car accidents needlessly claim so many lives in this country? I haven't quite made my mind up about this – but any spectacle that can draw rev-heads and connoisseurs of the Fast and the Furious franchise to take an interest in art will certainly get a nod of approval from me. Got yelled at by blasphemous puppets at a rave in a former Hillsong Church After the prams packed in for the night, Dark Mofo's adults-only antics kicked on at Night Mass: God Complex, a 'temple of unrest' and 'shrine to excess' in a secret location – aka, an enormous rave taking over what savvy punters have deduced to be a former Hillsong hub, and also sprawling out into a closed-off street. In one room, a pair of felt puppets dressed up as a nun and a festooned priest held court from above a central bar, hurling hilarious insults at punters like a more sacrilegious answer to those old geezers from The Muppets. In another room, DJs hyped up the crowd from a dynamic stage surrounded by screens and glowing Matrix -esque tubes. In the largest space, a procession of excellent bands and live acts played from two alternating stages on a constant loop – one above the crowd, and one on their level (note: balcony stages are underrated, we need more of them!). And upstairs, we were invited to enter a maze to discover mystery art and performers – including a real nude person nestled in the body of a decaying oversized shark, and a barbershop manned by a lingerie-wearing drag queen on a mission to shave off the eyebrows of willing(?) volunteers. Goths bumped elbows with ravers in outfits rigged with strobe lights, eshays, art girlies and middle-aged couples. I was reminded of some of the best nightlife I've ever experienced: Marrickville warehouse parties where you'd be texted the location at the last minute, the unmatched glory of a queer club on a good night, the infectious untz-untz of a remote bush rave, and the hedonic dancefloors of the now-retired Hellfire Club (pour one out for Sydney's longest-running fetish themed nightclub). However, and this is just my personal experience – I was also reminded of how much better nightlife can be when it's centered on a particular subculture or group. When queer performers dance to straight-leaning audiences, it just isn't the same. When I overhear bros on the dancefloor cracking fat jokes, it doesn't feel like we are all fam in this clerb, in fact. (And I'll add, when I can't find a cloakroom at an event on a chilly winter night, I'm gonna get shitty about carrying around my coat.) Night Mass (and Dark Mofo as a whole) is optimised for a broad audience to get a taste of the subversive. That's not necessarily a bad thing – I believe that everyone is better for having a subversive nightlife experience – and it is quite successful at what it sets out to do. (And I've noticed that many artists and performers I admire have been booked because of it, to boot.) Discovered a big, sexy demonic statue on a rain-soaked nighttime art crawl At many spots around Hobart, you can pick up a free map for Dark Mofo's 'Art Walk', which will lead you into all sorts of interesting nooks and crannies to discover works that are strange, beautiful, and also so deeply disturbing that you might find yourself questioning where the line crosses to full-blown trauma porn. From a rooftop on the harbourfront, a gargantuan human hand with a face glares down at festivalgoers (that'll be 'Quasi' by New Zealand artist Ronnie van Hout). In a decommissioned church, a giant, pale, pixie-like creature squats in front of an old organ, razor-sharp teeth are bared from behind its pouting lips (Travis Ficarra's 'Chocolate Goblin' – a highlight for me). Opposite this figure emanating desire and disgust, a pre-recorded performance video depicts a woman (who looks sort of like the little girl from The Ring grew up) delivering a deep, guttural vocal performance that transcends metal to a meditative state ('Mortal Voice' by Karina Utomo and Cura8). Questioned the ethics of trauma porn and violence for art's sake In an abandoned-seeming corporate building, visitors climb the stairs to find a screening of a real performance in which the artist (naked and exposed) is hanging from a noose, and his audience must work together to hold the weight of his body and prevent him from asphyxiating (Carlos Martiel's 'Cuerpo'). Quietly troubling, Martiel's piece is designed to echo the violent public acts of lynching in 19th and 20th-century America (and I'm not so sure that guy who went in at the same time as me should have brought in his young sons…). In the same building, in an experience I only learned of secondhand, an artwork invited viewers to walk down a narrow passageway and squeeze past a man dressed in all-black who would violently swing around a police baton, beating on the walls (Paul Setúbal's 'Because The Knees Bend'). It is things like this that raise uncomfortable questions about the festival's 'theme park of trauma' approach. There are far too many people who don't need to seek out art in order to understand the threat of violence, either from a guy who looks like a riot squad cop, or otherwise. With devastating conflicts and active genocides playing out while politicians wring their hands, and headlines of atrocities flash in our newsfeeds cushioned between thirst traps and Labubu-core recession indicators, what do we get out of replicated violence? Is it enough that it starts a conversation? Found a basement filled with real sheep heads in jars (almost 500 of them) Taking the crown for Dark Mofo's most horrifying artwork this year is Indigenous Tasmanian/Trawulwuy artist Nathan Maynard's 'We threw them down the rocks where they had thrown the sheep'. I joined a short queue on a regular street, and descended into the musty, dimly lit basement of an old furniture store to discover rows of industrial shelving filled with a total of 480 jars – each of them holding a real, preserved sheep head. A confronting display (even for a casual taxidermy enthusiast like myself), Maynard's installation goes a lot deeper than gore – using flesh to "lay bare the legacy of cultural theft and erasure" and call attention to the remains of First Nations ancestors from around the globe "languishing in museums and their storerooms'. The artwork makes direct reference to the 1828 Cape Grim massacre, in which about 30 Aboriginal men were killed by four shepherds – one of many mass killings of Indigenous people during a period in Tasmania known as the Black War (1824-1832) – solemnly calling attention to the horrors of colonial violence. This artwork's provocative approach raises a lot of ethical questions, including whether it should have been presented at all. But, it certainly got people talking, and if anyone has a right to take control of this narrative, it's an Indigenous artist from Tasmania. Saw the most beautiful and primal dance I've ever seen (by a performer coated in mystery goo) Meditative, strangely alluring, transcendently beautiful and somewhat intimidating – Joshua Serafin's VOID will live on in my subconscious for some time. Drawing on this multidisciplinary artist's Filipino heritage and tapping into a divine queer energy, VOID is a performance complete with a 'splash zone'. (The first few rows of the audience were actually provided with plastic ponchos, and the heritage chairs they sat in at Hobart's Theatre Royal – the oldest continually operating theatre in Australia – were also plastic-wrapped.) A suitable fit for the Dark Mofo brief, the piece challenges its audiences with its mystery and slow build. After a lengthy instrumental segment, Serafin emerges – nude, writhing, and illuminated by blue poles of light – to execute a ferociously charged dance punctuated by yelps of passion and rage. Then, following a brief video segment, the piece builds into one of the most stunning displays you'll ever see. Serafin covers their body in a strange, black viscous liquid that's whipped through the air, and some is even flung onto unsuspecting audience members (seated a row behind the sanctioned splash zone, the person sitting next to me copped a wallop of goo). The mystery liquid catches the light in a dazzling way, and the sound of it splashing and smacking on the stage intermingles with the pant of the performer's breath and the immersive music. This is the quality performance art that you want to see platformed at an internationally-recognised festival. Stood dangerously close to a fiery storm of molten metal In the gloom of a subterranean gallery at MONA, sparks are flying – liquid metal to be exact, heated to 1500°C, dripping down from the ceiling in dramatic waves of firelight. Without the fireproof screen standing between me and this transfixing spectacle, this would be a disastrous encounter. But it's actually another more unsuspecting piece in this exhibition that is more likely to disfigure me. As I approach a big block of wood clamped by an odd mechanical device, a gallery attendant warns me not to stand too close – this artwork is designed to break. In the opposite corner, I spot a pile of splintered hunks of wood cast off from previous days. I wonder how large the pile will grow by the time the exhibition closes in April. MONA unveiled in the end, the beginning, the first Australian solo show from Italian artist Arcangelo Sassolino, alongside Dark Mofo's other provocations. It feels reductive to simply refer to Sassolino as a sculptor. Channelling his interest in mechanics and technology, he creates dynamic, kinetic pieces that test the laws of physics – using force, tension, speed, heat and gravity to create dramatic transformations. Aside from the fiery spectacle of the collection's title piece, this exhibition is actually rather quiet and contemplative. As the artist toils to 'free matter from a predetermined form', we are prompted to ponder how we can push and shape ourselves, our circumstances, and perhaps even the world around us beyond what keeps us stuck. Lost (and found) myself in an elaborate mirrored maze With only a few days to explore the excesses of Dark Mofo, I didn't find the time to write down my fears on a note to be burned up with all the others stuffed inside the Ogoh-ogoh effigy before it was set alight. However, I did stumble into my own unexpected ritual of release. The culprit? The 'House of Mirrors'. After touring all over the country, this kaleidoscopic maze created by Australian installation artists Christian Wagstaff and Keith Courtney has stood on the grounds of MONA since 2016. As I made my approach, the attendant outside the gate informed me that some people figure it out in two minutes, while others could take upwards of twenty minutes. (I fell firmly into the latter category, as did many people I continuously bumped into on the inside.) As I cautiously rounded corners, confronted by kaleidoscopic multiples of my own reflection, I became increasingly discombobulated by the maze's dizzying passages. I wound up back at the entrance more than once, and the temptation to give up and take the easy escape was real. But something called me back into the unknown. Despite my weariness, I was determined – and yes, finding my new direction involved taking some wrong turns and a terrifying amount of uncertainty. But I pressed on, energised by the darkness and decadence I had spent the weekend immersed in – and eventually, a new stream of light emerged, and I had found the way to the other side. I felt a quiet sense release upon the realisation that I had freed myself by following my own winding path, and it was more satisfying than retracing my steps ever could be. What does Dark Mofo get right? Rather than fighting it, Dark Mofo embraces the chilling darkness of winter nights. Random shopfronts are illuminated by the festival's signature hue of glowing red as you navigate your way between experiences. Embracing the chilling blackness of the night, Dark Mofo is able to tap into something that other winter festivals in Australia haven't quite been able to capture. It could have something to do with Hobart's size – the vibe is more like a big regional town than a capital city, which balances expectations (the quiet patches between activations and lively venues feel less stark than the lulls in the Vivid Sydney lightwalk, for example). It could also have something to do with the festival's themes – audiences expect the art to be provocative, challenging, dark, and divisive – you go in knowing that it might not be your cup of tea, that it might even be intended to leave you feeling a little sick in the stomach, and thus, you're less likely to feel let down, compared to something that promises a grand dazzling spectacle. Not that Dark Mofo is devoid of spectacle – quite the opposite, actually. Similar to the Biennale of Sydney's 2024 theme, which leaned into the transgressive origins of carnival – Dark Mofo speaks to our need for ritual, for celebration, and to be connected with others in order to move through change and confusion, process pain and grief, and to cope with the exquisite ecstasy, agony and mundanity of being alive. After making my first pilgrimage, I for one, can say that I'll be back for more.
Yahoo
13-06-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Miyares leans in on law-and-order message ahead of 2025 election
'I wish more commonwealth's attorneys would heed my call to listen to victims. Too many haven't,' Attorney General Jason Miyares said in an interview with The Mercury this week. (Photo by Ned Oliver/Virginia Mercury) As protests erupt again in Los Angeles over U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement raids and President Donald Trump's deployment of U.S. Marines to back up the National Guard, Virginia Attorney General Jason Miyares isn't blinking. 'It's not unprecedented,' Miyares, who is seeking a second term as Virginia's top law enforcement official, said of Trump's decision to send troops to the streets. 'President George H.W. Bush did it in 1992 during the L.A. riots. Twice the number of Marines were deployed then.' In a wide-ranging interview at his office in Richmond earlier this week, Miyares, the son of a Cuban refugee and the first Hispanic Virginian elected statewide, insisted that what's happening in California is the result of leadership failure. 'This is about protecting facilities and backing up law enforcement — not policing,' he said, emphasizing that peaceful protest is a hallmark of democracy, but violence is not. 'When you cross the line … that is not protest, that is violence.' In the interview, Miyares defended the use of force in Los Angeles, spoke at length about his office's crime-fighting initiatives and touted settlements with corporate polluters and opioid makers. He also fielded questions on civil rights enforcement, voting access, utility regulation and his complex views on criminal justice reform. Democrats, not surprisingly, remain deeply skeptical of Miyares' record. Carolyn Fiddler, spokeswoman for the Democratic Attorneys General Association, dismissed his claims of prioritizing public safety. 'Throughout his time as AG, MAGA Miyares continuously put politics before people,' Fiddler said in an email. 'While he touts his 'tough on crime' stance, he's failed to call out Donald Trump and Elon Musk for blatant violations of the law — including those actions with devastating impacts on the commonwealth. Virginians deserve better than Miyares, and we will take back the seat this year.' And while critics accuse him of being more focused on punishment than reform, Miyares says his approach is guided by listening, law enforcement feedback, and a 'victim-first' mindset. Born in Greensboro, North Carolina and raised in Virginia Beach, Miyares, 49, earned his law degree from the College of William & Mary and worked as a prosecutor before running for office. In 2015, he became the first Cuban American elected to Virginia's General Assembly. Six years later, he unseated Democratic incumbent Mark Herring to become attorney general, winning on a platform centered around public safety. Now, as he runs for reelection, Miyares is highlighting what he calls some of the biggest public safety and civil litigation wins in Virginia history. But he's also navigating internal GOP rifts, pressure from both the right and the center, and a polarized electorate that's increasingly skeptical of tough-on-crime rhetoric. 'I think one of the most important things for a leader to do is just listen,' Miyares said. Since taking office in 2022, Miyares has zeroed in on violent crime. He calls Operation Ceasefire, a grant-driven program launched in 13 Virginia cities, one of his proudest achievements. The initiative funds a mix of prevention, intervention, and prosecution strategies aimed at repeat violent offenders. 'We saw a 66% drop in the murder rate across the 13 cities,' Miyares said. 'Virginia's statewide murder rate fell by a third. We also saw a decline in overdose deaths — because we're getting fentanyl dealers off the street.' The program, he insists, is based on listening tours he conducted with police and community leaders around the state. 'Roughly 5% of felons commit over 50% of violent crimes. If you want to lower crime, you go after that small subset.' Still, sustaining the initiative may prove difficult amid budget fights. 'I wish we could expand Operation Ceasefire to more cities,' Miyares acknowledged, hinting that local buy-in has been mixed. 'I wish more commonwealth's attorneys would heed my call to listen to victims. Too many haven't.' When asked whether his office has done enough to address police misconduct, Miyares pointed to his 2023 settlement with the Town of Windsor, where officers had unlawfully stopped and threatened a Black Army lieutenant. 'You can be pro-law enforcement and still demand accountability,' he said. 'They're the only ones with a monopoly on violence in our society — they should be held to a higher standard.' He added that oversight takes time. 'We want to be thorough and systematic. And yes, if any other department crosses that boundary, we'll get involved.' That approach hasn't stopped critics from accusing Miyares of being too soft on departments that violate civil rights — an accusation he flatly rejects. 'The facts don't support that claim,' he said. Still, Miyares makes clear that his office prioritizes public safety above political fashion. 'I will not support a criminal-first, victim-last mindset,' he said. 'We've heard a lot about reform, but rarely do you hear the word 'victim' in those debates. That ends with me.' Miyares has also overseen a wave of settlements that he says bring real change to communities. 'We've secured over $1.3 billion from opioid manufacturers and distributors,' he said. Some of that money, he said, helped open a 75-bed inpatient treatment center in Galax — 'the first of its kind within a 100-mile radius.' He emphasized that the money is managed by Virginia's Opioid Abatement Authority, not his office, to ensure transparency and local tailoring. 'What works in Fairfax may not work in Galax. But this is the largest influx of treatment funding in state history.' On environmental enforcement, Miyares points to an $80 million settlement with Monsanto over PCB pollution and multiple other actions, including prosecuting illegal landfills and forcing remediation of oil spills and raw sewage discharges. 'Our environmental law section has been incredibly active,' he said. 'We're thorough, we're relentless, and we're the people's protector.' That populist posture extends to corporations. Miyares boasts of taking on utility giants and the Washington Commanders alike. 'We got a bigger settlement from the Commanders than D.C. and Maryland combined,' he said, referring to the $1.3 million paid over unlawfully withheld ticket deposits. And in 2023, his office negotiated changes to Dominion Energy's offshore wind plan. 'We got them to share $3 billion of the risk, instead of placing it all on the ratepayers,' he said. 'Before us, Virginians were on the hook for 100% of that cost.' But his critics say his record on housing and regulation is mixed. Miyares counters that protecting property rights doesn't preclude enforcing civil rights. 'I don't think those are mutually exclusive,' he said. 'We secured the largest housing discrimination verdict in Virginia's history — $750,000 to two families evicted because one member was Black. And we're making sure bad actors are held accountable, without choking off affordable housing through overregulation.' Early into his tenure, Miyares established an Election Integrity Unit, which he said ensures voter rolls are accurate. Launched in September 2022 with no new funding, the unit is tasked with investigating election-law violations and safeguarding voting integrity. It successfully issued a cease‑and‑desist against misleading mailers sent by Look Ahead America — an action upheld by a federal appeals court. But its only notable prosecution —a misdemeanor and felony case against former Prince William County registrar Michele White — collapsed after prosecutors dropped all charges due to inconsistent witness testimony. While Miyares touts the unit as crucial to preventing fraud, no actual voter fraud has been identified, leading watchdogs like the NAACP to criticize the unit as more reflective of political signaling than prosecutorial gain. 'I can cite several Virginia elections decided by a handful of votes. It should be easy to vote, hard to cheat,' he said, rejecting the notion that voter ID laws are a means of suppression. 'I cannot get a library card without an ID. Voter ID is not controversial.' In the interview, Miyares wouldn't commit to refraining from prosecuting voters accidentally registered in error, noting that knowingly voting as a non-citizen could still result in legal action. 'They'd have to fear prosecution if they go knowing they're a non-citizen,' he said. Miyares, along with Youngkin, has repeatedly challenged Virginia's ties to California's environmental standards, particularly on electric vehicles. 'Tying ourselves to California is a fool's errand,' he said. 'Their regulations are being dictated by an unelected air board. The average EV costs $68,000. That's a tax on working-class Virginians.' He said Virginia needs to expand its baseload energy capacity, not rely on intermittent sources like wind and solar. 'I want electric bills to go down. Tying ourselves to California ensures they go up.' Despite this skepticism, Miyares defended his record on climate enforcement, including recent court victories over solar and wind energy permits. 'We are enforcing the law — just not surrendering to mandates that hurt working people.' Miyares has also made 'second chances' a talking point, holding job fairs for formerly incarcerated Virginians. But he remains skeptical of broader criminal justice reforms, including eliminating mandatory minimums. 'They're an effective tool,' he said. 'They help us go after repeat violent offenders and keep them off the streets.' He argued that justice reform must be victim-centered. 'Too many of these conversations leave out the victims entirely. They've been through trauma, they've testified under oath in a courtroom full of strangers, and they deserve to know the system protects them.' When asked if he supports GOP lieutenant governor nominee John Reid, whose campaign was embroiled in scandal earlier this spring, Miyares replied simply, 'I support Republicans.' Despite Youngkin's attempts to nudge Reid from the race, Miyares said he respects the governor's judgment — but 'John Reid is our nominee.' Looking to the 2025 election, Miyares said he's proudest of the state's drop in fentanyl death — 46%, more than double the national average. 'There are Virginians alive today because of our work,' he said. If reelected, he said, he'd expand Operation Ceasefire and continue pressing commonwealth's attorneys to prioritize victims. 'I have said before, I will not support a criminal first, victim last mindset. And I find it amazing that whenever we have these great discussions about criminal justice reform, the one word that you never hear is victims,' Miyares said. 'Denying the voice of victims is not something I'll ever find acceptable.' SUPPORT: YOU MAKE OUR WORK POSSIBLE