Feb 22, 2011

Shattered Christchurch counts earthquake dead

Six months ago Christchurch residents thought that they had dodged a calamity but the catastrophe was postponed not avoided.

A woman is pulled from the rubble after the earthquake in Christchurch
A woman is pulled from the rubble after the earthquake in Christchurch Photo: REUTERS
After the city escaped with damage, but no deaths, from a 71. magnitude earthquake that struck in September, locals acknowleded their good fortune.
But at 12.51pm yesterday on Tuesday the cathedral city's luck resolutely ran out.

Officeworkers had settled down for lunch at their desks, shoppers thronged the city's malls and squares and children played in schoolyards across the city when the ground began to shake.
It did not stop shuddering violently for almost one full minute, all the time it took to turn the picturesque city into a disaster zone.
Buildings that had withstood hundreds of lesser earthquakes crumbled into piles of dust as the 6.3 magnitude earthquake hit. The cathedral's famous spire cracked and fell, liquefaction - earth literally turned to liquid - seeped up through the streets. Christchurch - New Zealand's vibrant second largest city - resembled a Hollywood apocalypse film for real.
The worst of the destruction was in the city centre, where more than 100 people were trapped as offices, hotels and shops collapsed around them. Some managed to make it out by crawling, jumping and scaling the outside of cracked and fractured buildings. As masonry rained down and the aftershocks continued, there were reports of people trapped in the PGG Building, the Cantebury TV building and under fallen chunks of the cathedral.

With screams coming from the remains of buildings, it was obvious that this time the city would not escape without fatalities. Soon the death toll had climbed to 65, but there were rumours around the city that it could reach as high as 300 as rescuers started to pick through the rubble. Several of the dead were killed in buses and cars that were crushed like cans by falling debris. A backpacker died in the city's YHA. Another person was reported to have perished in a bookshop. There were also reports of dead bodies lying in Cashel Mall in the centre of the city, covered by t-shirts until rescuers could come and take them away. The authorities confirmed that the dead included children.

John Key, the prime minister, said it was the nation's "darkest day".

Bob Parker, the major, declared a state of emergency, saying the city had "paid a very heavy price here."

For the tearful and shellshocked survivors, the hours following the earthquake were bewildering.
The injured, some carried on makeshift stretchers from buildings by their workmates and friends, most bleeding, gathered in the city's parks where impromptu medical centres were set up. There were so many wounded that the city's ambulances could not cope and police and civilian cars were employed to help ferry those in need to packed hospitals. Others, fearful of returning home, set up tents in parks and open spaces to sit out the rainy and cold night.

Elsewhere, chaos took hold. One man was arrested for trying to enter a building to rescue a friend. Husbands frantically looked for their wives, parents desperately tried to track down their children, their efforts stymied by road closures, gridlocked traffic and a communications system rendered almost useless by the quake.
Some 80 per cent of the city was without power and water was running out.

As the dust started to clear and rescue workers started to move in, gingerly picking over debris and listening for calls for help, aftershocks continued to rumble through the city, sending large shards of glass and bricks onto the streets below.

Then the fires started. Several damaged buildings ignited, making rescue attempts even more hazardous. But the rescues continued.

During the night, emergency crews corndonned off the city so that they could listen properly for tapping and calls for help.

Through the night some 30 people were rescued alive from beneath fallen buildings, and several dead bodies were also recovered. Of those that survived, some had to undergo amputations to be freed from the wreckage, while rescue workers said that others were retrieved without suffering a scratch.

Anne Voss, who was trapped under her office desk, said she had called her children to say goodbye because she thought she was going to die, "It was absolutely horrible," she told New Zealand TV.

"My daughter was crying and I was crying because I honestly thought that was it.

"You want to tell them you love them, don't you?"

Sven Baker was another one of the lucky ones. He survived by diving under his desk in his four-storey office block when the earthquake hit. The decision saved his life.

"I went under the table just as the whole facade of the building collapsed on the street.

"It was a massive earthquake, unbelieveable, it took you off your feet," he told the Dominion Post.

"It was a miracle to have walked out."

By this morning disaster recovery crews were flying into Christchurch from Australia to help with the recovery effort.

The damage to Christchurch, which is the gateway to the South Island and is home to 390,000 people, was more extensive than in September because the quake was far shallower and more sudden than the last one.
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A Malaysian Dream – Life and Times of Lim Kit Siang

Part 1





Part 2





Part 3





Part 4





 
This entry was posted on Tuesday, 22 February 2011, 12:37 pm

Starving N. Korea begs for food, but U.S. has concerns about resuming aid

Kim Jong-ilImage via WikipediaBy Chico Harlan
Tuesday, February 22, 2011; A06

TOKYO - North Korea recently took the unusual step of begging for food handouts from the foreign governments it usually threatens.

Plagued by floods, an outbreak of a livestock disease and a brutal winter, the government ordered its embassies and diplomatic offices around the world to seek help.

The request has put the United States and other Western countries in the uncomfortable position of having to decide whether to ignore the pleas of a starving country or pump food into a corrupt distribution system that often gives food to those who need it least.

The United States, which suspended its food aid to North Korea two years ago amid concerns about transparency, "has no plans for any contributions at this time," said Kurt Campbell, the State Department's top East Asia official.

Meanwhile, the U.N. World Food Program, responsible for much of the food aid in North Korea, said its current food supply could sustain operations in the communist country for only another month.

"We're certainly hopeful that new donations will be coming in the upcoming weeks," said Marcus Prior, the WFP's spokesman in Asia.

Next month, the WFP plans to complete an assessment of North Korea's food situation - a report that could influence how foreign governments respond. But few doubt that North Korea's 24 million people need food.

For two decades, since the collapse of a public distribution system that supplied food rations, Kim Jong Il's government has neglected to care for its people. In the early and mid-1990s, an estimated 1 million died in a famine.

North Korea has since developed a grass-roots network of private markets - a stand-in for government programs but also the target of occasional crackdowns from a leadership that views free-market activity as a threat.

Amid the food shortages, though, humanitarian experts describe another failure: the international aid effort. Outsiders have yet to devise a formula that reaches basic standards for monitoring or effectiveness. After 15 years and about $2 billion of aid efforts, one in four pregnant women is malnourished and one in three children is stunted.

The government places obstacles at every step of the distribution process - the top complaint from U.S. officials, who demand better transparency before aid resumes.

Sen. Richard G. Lugar (Ind.), the ranking Republican on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, released a statement this week calling it "essential" that U.S. assistance is "actually received by hungry North Korean children and their families, rather than reinforcing the North Korean military whose care is already a priority over the rest of the population."

Researchers and nongovernmental organizations disagree on the proportion of food aid the North Korean government diverts, with estimates ranging from 10 to 50 percent. Diverted food aid, according to experts, is given to the military, redistributed as gifts for elites or resold - at a steep profit - to vendors in markets. John Everard, the British ambassador in Pyongyang from 2006 to 2008, said he saw rice bags labeled "World Food Program" in market halls.

In recent years, North Korea has often banned food aid monitors from traveling to the most vulnerable provinces. It also demands that monitors do not know Korean. Though North Korea makes exceptions, Prior said, it generally demands seven days' notice before monitors can visit an area.

Kim Seong-min, a former North Korean army propaganda officer who defected, said he once saw a ton of rice aid arrive at a distribution center. The military distributed the food in a village at a monitor's request but later went door to door retrieving it.

"I remember some of the collection officers were complaining about not being able to collect 100 percent of the rice," Kim said.

Partly influenced by earlier distribution challenges, the WFP last July tailored its operation in North Korea exclusively to women and children, targeting hospitals, orphanages and schools. The program gave out blends of milk and rice or milk and cereal - concoctions unlikely to be presented as gifts to the most loyal cadres.

Hunger problems, however, threaten to grow wider this year, experts say. North Korea has endured its coldest winter in six decades, and farmers worry about below-average crop output. North Korea last week confirmed an outbreak of foot-and-mouth disease, with its state-run news agency saying that "more than 10,000 heads of draught oxen, milch cows and pigs have so far been infected with the diseases and thousands of them died."

As of two years ago, the U.S. government ranked as the largest food donor to North Korea, giving 170,000 tons between May 2008 and March 2009. When that program was terminated, 22,700 tons of U.S.-donated food remained in the pipeline. North Korea hasn't accounted for how that food was distributed.

North Korea lost another major donor in 2008, when conservative President Lee Myung-bak came to power in South Korea. Lee promptly revoked the massive shipments of food - sometimes half a million tons annually - delivered by his liberal predecessors under the Sunshine Policy.

In recent months, numerous defector groups in South Korea have reported food shortages not just among civilians in the North but also within the 1.2 million-member military.

Good Friends, a Seoul-based aid group that has informants in the North, reported in January that the ruling Workers' Party had ordered a nationwide food donation for soldiers.

"The regime doesn't mind that much if the civilian population goes hungry," Everard said. "But if its core supporters and the military don't get fed, then it starts to get nervous."

Special correspondent Yoonjung Seo contributed to this report.

Washington Post
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How Qaddafi Lost Libya


Feb 21,2011 by Andrew Solomon



It seemed unlikely that Libya, sandwiched between regime collapse in Tunisia and regime collapse in Egypt, could be untouched by the movement. Qaddafi has had dominion over an increasingly malcontent country, and the citizens have been increasingly disgusted by the gap between his rhetoric of direct democracy and his autocratic grip on power. When I wrote about Qaddafi for The New Yorker, in 2006, the question was whether a much-advertised reform process was really underway. The ostensible champion of reform was Qaddafi’s son Seif-al-Islam. Seif usually talks a good game, but he does so with minimal regard for the truth. I was amazed, at a meeting with Seif and some senior American diplomats, in 2008, to hear him describe as imminent the exact same plans he’d so described to me in 2005, without the slightest embarrassment that nothing he had promised then had even inched forward. The regime has always wanted credit for its beneficent decrees, without accepting blame for its failure even to try to turn them into results. Libyans are aware that this represents a higher degree of hypocrisy than is common in most of the rest of the world. For a long time, they did not much love Qaddafi, but they did not hate him, either; he was in many ways irrelevant to their lives, which chugged along according to a tribal logic that had been in place long before the regime came to power. Libyans are leery of democracy; they like a strong ruler who can keep tribal rivalries from erupting. But they do not particularly like their current strong ruler.

The Qaddafi regime has made several strategic errors since my article was published in 2006. The most obvious has been the retreat from Seif’s plans for reform. It was in Qaddafi’s interests to sustain the fierce battle between hardliners and moderates, to present his moderate spokesman to the West (hence the meeting between Seif and diplomats), and to keep his hardliner face visible to his own people. Within the government, each side had moments of believing itself in favor, but the best guarantee of Qaddafi’s continued hegemony was to keep them constantly embattled. When this became unsustainable, however, in 2008, he quashed the reformers, and Seif was generally seen as having fallen from grace. Even though most Libyans had been cynical about the reform process—which was predicated on economic reform rather than on the introduction of real democracy—it had kept hope on the horizon, had allowed them to indulge the idea that Qaddafi was really interested in what was best for the population rather than for himself and his family. To give hardliners more power, as Qaddafi did in 2008, was catastrophic.




That Seif was chosen to go on Libyan television last night to warn of “civil war” and to promise a conference on constitutional reforms is very telling. Qaddafi would not have chosen him as spokesman if he didn’t recognize the hunger for reform, and if he didn’t know that quashing Seif’s ambitions had fed the fire now consuming Tripoli. Monday morning, Qaddafi announced that Seif would be forming a committee to investigate what is happening. But Seif’s too-little-too-late performance—which Al Jazeera described as “desperate,” and which some commentators have said was aimed at his friends in the West rather than at the Libyan people—has almost certainly not helped his cause.

A second mistake has been the lack of attention to the poverty of the population. Libya is North Africa’s most prosperous country, given its tremendous oil wealth and small population. Yet most Libyans live in deplorable conditions. The state provides little by way of civil society and does not take care of even the most basic government obligations. There are police to control people who stray from supporting the Leader, but there is little else. As a housing crisis has escalated in the past few years, the regime has made no effort to provide adequate public accommodation. Wealth is concentrated in the hands of the very few. It would have been easy for Qaddafi to raise the standard of living for the population as a whole either by creating a sustainable non-oil economy or simply by distributing some portion of oil revenues, but he chose to do neither.

A third mistake has been to ignore the needs of the young. When a third of the population is under fifteen and a further large proportion is under twenty-five, the young become central to coherent governance. Qaddafi has stuck with his old cronies, and has not taken on board the nature of the widespread discontent. The most obvious problem here, as in much of the Middle East, is vast youth unemployment, for the amelioration of which there are no programs at all. Qaddafi has never made any attempt to reach out to disgruntled youth, and they feel that their voices are not heard and carry no weight.

It is striking that the protests began in the eastern part of Libya. The area around Benghazi has always been the one least under Qaddafi’s thumb, and most of his problems have originated there. Qaddafi’s tribe is a desert one, and the verdant east resents his authority. In the nineteen-nineties, eastern Libya was the site of an armed Islamic insurgency, based in Benghazi and the Green Mountains. It was in part Qaddafi’s fear of Benghazi that led him to champion the notion that an epidemic of HIV among children had somehow been caused by Bulgarian nurses’ deliberate acts on behalf of Mossad. Qaddafi has always been good at deflecting the anger of one enemy onto another, removing himself from the line of fire, and in the episode of the Bulgarian nurses he skillfully turned the rage in the east against the Bulgarians. But it was not possible to suppress permanently the fact of his unpopularity in Benghazi; people there have always felt freer to express disapprobation of the regime than people in the western parts of the country, and they have long waited for a moment when they could act on those expressions.

I am not a soothsayer, and cannot guess whether the regime can withstand the revolution that is underway. The response to protests has been swift and brutal, since Qaddafi had seen how ineffective more moderate responses were in Egypt and Tunisia. It is not clear, however, that brutality will work; it appears to be making more and more Libyans incensed. A Libyan diplomat said today, “The more Qaddafi kills people, the more people go into the streets.” Qaddafi’s power has for a long time relied on the docility of ordinary Libyans. As he ignored the youth of his country, though, he seems to have ignored the possibility that he is ruling a less passive population. The new generation is ready to push out the old. Libya’s deputy ambassador to the United Nations said today that if Qaddafi does not willingly step down “the Libyan people will get rid of him.” Two members of the Libyan Air Force have defected to Malta rather than attack protesters in Benghazi. Others may well follow, and a loss of loyalty within the army would be the end of Qaddafi’s reign.

A post-Qaddafi Libya could easily be roiled in internal battles, ultimately dividing into several smaller countries, each dominated by local tribes. That could make life better for some Libyans, and it could make life worse for others; it would almost surely be problematic for Western companies with oil interests in the country. Modern Libya is an artificial construct, a remnant of colonialism. The glue holding it together is failing, and the warnings of chaos are real. The choice between chaos and oppression is always a tricky one, but this population is tired of oppression and corruption, and chaos may look more attractive to them.

Chaos tends, however, to wear thin. We all understand that there is strong opposition to Qaddafi, but it’s not clear whether there is any internal coherence to that opposition. Though the Muslim Brotherhood did not run the Egyptian revolution, they did help give people a flag under which to rally, and Libya does not have any real opposition leaders; it hardly has any internal opposition as we generally define the word. If these protests are successful, and if Qaddafi flees, as there are already rumors he has, then who will take over? Libya has another important difference from Egypt: it’s a tiny country, with a population of just over six million. Even Tunisia has a population of over ten million. All the educated and competent people in Libya know one another, and most of them have worked in one way or another with the Qaddafi regime. If Qaddafi goes, there are not enough trained bureaucrats or statesmen to construct a new Libyan government that is not an extension of the old one, and this fact alone could propel Libya back into some form of tribalism. That failing, his stooges are likely to end up playing a significant part in running the show.

Seif had aspired to improve overall communications in the country, bringing the Internet into the Sahara, but he was not successful in that mission; in this regard, at least, his father may be glad he didn’t listen to him. The government has been exercising control over communications, shutting off both Internet and phone services. One of my contacts in Libya managed to call last night just before all lines were cut. He said, “It’s awful, much worse than you think. Please get out the word to support us.”

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