https://www.cnn.com/2019/04/16/asia/dog-found-at-sea-thailand-intl/index.html
2019-04-16 15:37:00Z
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This article is part of David Leonhardt’s newsletter. You can sign up here to receive it each weekday.
My father was a French teacher, in middle schools and high schools, and he took me to Paris when I was 11 years old, in 1984. Before that trip, I’d never been more than a few hours’ drive from New York.
We took an overnight flight from J.F.K. Airport and landed the next morning, exhausted. The best treatment for jet lag, my dad explained, was exercise. So after dropping off our luggage at the apartment of a friend of his, we went walking through Paris. I don’t recall any stops on the walk except for our destination: Notre-Dame.
We crossed one of the bridges leading to Île de la Cité, the island where the cathedral sits, and I remember looking up and thinking it was the oldest thing I had ever seen.
The cathedral connects humankind across the centuries. It also connects families, including those, like mine, who will never worship inside of it.
When my grandfather was a young man living in Paris in the 1930s, he walked past it. When my dad was a student there in the 1960s, he lived near it. He took me to see it that day in 1984, as my first experience in a culture other than my own. A couple of years ago, I took my children to gaze up at its towers and its spire.
Like so many others, I feel an almost physical sadness over the destruction of that spire. And I share the instinct of so many others, as well: Notre-Dame must rise again.
More on the fire
“We’ve failed, as a civilization, to be the caretakers of something priceless,” Pamela Druckerman writes in The Times.
“The conflagration brought a feeling of helplessness and foreboding,” CNN’s Frida Ghitis says, “the sense — real or imagined — that we were watching a metaphor, a prelude, a warning.”
As the Paris-based journalist Christine Ockrent notes in The Guardian, the church has been damaged, and rebuilt, before: “Notre-Dame de Paris will survive, and most of its treasures.”
Modern methods — including three-dimensional mapping of much of the cathedral — may be able to help in its reconstruction, as some noted on Twitter. They cited a 2015 National Geographic story by Rachel Hartigan Shea. “The stunningly realistic panoramic photographs are amazingly accurate,” she wrote.
In a time of turmoil for the larger Church, the destruction means something acute for Catholics, writes National Review’s Alexandra DeSanctis. “To many Catholics, it feels as if the Church is on fire in a sense already. And now we are watching it blaze,” she writes.
Notre-Dame was a product of a particular cultural synthesis in Catholic history, my colleague Ross Douthat writes. “The Catholicism of today builds nothing so gorgeous as Notre-Dame in part because it has no 21st-century version of that grand synthesis to offer.”
The Atlantic’s Rachel Donadio — a witness to the fire — and The New Yorker’s Lauren Collins — who visited the roof of the cathedral last month with some of those working to restore it before the fire — have more on Notre-Dame.
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For more than five years, New Zealand kept secret the name of a nurse considered a hostage of the Islamic State.
Now Louisa Akavi's name is public.
The International Committee of the Red Cross hopes that releasing her name will lead to her rescue. But New Zealand's government sees it as a threat to her safety, Foreign Minister Winston Peters made clear on Tuesday.
Following Akavi's kidnapping in 2013 while was working for the ICRC in Syria, news outlets around the world withheld her name and nationality. That changed on Sunday, after the ICRC published a plea for information on her whereabouts, using her name and sparking a back-and-forth between the humanitarian institution and New Zealand.
On Monday, Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern said the government would have preferred that "this case were not in the public domain."
The ICRC responded that it would not have made its decision without the support of the New Zealand government.
Now Peters says that claim is "balderdash."
He told reporters on Tuesday morning local time that the government opposed the public release of her name.
"It's not true," he said of the ICRC's response, according to The New Zealand Herald. "The reality is the media people we have worked with very closely ... all know we have been strenuous about keeping this secret in the interests of trying to preserve a chance to retrieve or save this woman, and that's still our view."
Peter said the government opposes any steps that might endanger the 62-year-old midwife and nurse or impede her release, The Associated Press reports. New Zealand also fears making her a high profile captive, and therefore increasing the odds that her captors would execute her for propaganda.
But the ICRC argued that naming her would raise the chances of receiving news about her whereabouts, following the collapse of the Islamic State.
Akavi was taken hostage while traveling in northwestern Syria, along with two Syrian nationals, Alaa Rajab and Nabil Bakdounes, according to the ICRC.
"Louisa is a true and compassionate humanitarian," said Dominik Stillhart, ICRC's director of operations, in the statement released Sunday. "Alaa and Nabil were committed colleagues and an integral part of our aid deliveries. We call on anyone with information to please come forward."
Akavi spent much of her life working across the world for the New Zealand Red Cross and the ICRC. She worked with Vietnamese refugees in Malaysia, promoted health and hygiene among local women in Afghanistan and survived a brush with death in Chechnya, when gunmen entered a hospital where she was sleeping and killed six people, the Herald reports. Her work also took her to Somalia, Ethiopia and Iraq, among other places.
In 2010, she told the community newspaper Kapiti Observer about working in Bosnia in the mid-90s. She described entering the city of Tuzla and seeing Bosnians fleeing in the opposite direction.
"It's winter, it's snowing, it's cold," she said. "And I see on the road a child's doll, and then I see some shoes, and then I see all of these families, women and children with their heads covered and vests, probably the thickest vests they own, wearing boots and no gloves, their hands are bare, carrying everything they own."
Of her work, she told the paper, "I don't know why I still do it. It's something I do well. I know that I can make a difference, a small difference."
By 2013, Akavi was working in Syria, in a period of considerable military success and territorial expansion for the Islamic State.
That October, she was in a Red Cross convoy delivering supplies to medical facilities in Idlib, according to the ICRC. Gunmen stopped the vehicles and took Akavi, Rajab and Bakdounes – along with four other people who were released the following day.
ISIS demanded ransom from the Red Cross in fluctuating amounts, starting at under $1.1 million and rising at times to over $22 million, according to The New York Times. The ICRC told the Times that Akavi's captors answered proof-of-life questions, convincing the humanitarian institution that they were in fact holding the nurse captive.
According to the Herald, Akavi's captors also emailed her family in New Zealand demanding a ransom and threatening that media coverage would lead to her death.
That led to her name and nationality becoming a closely-held secret. The de facto blackout was overseen for some time by then-Foreign Minister Murray McCully, who would speak with inquiring editorial staff and spell out the possible consequences of publication, the Herald reports. When media outside of the country would publish her name, New Zealand's intelligence partners across the world would reach out and seek cooperation.
On Monday, Ardern thanked reporters for keeping Akavi's name under wraps.
"The decisions that have been made over a period of time by various outlets and journalists has not only been responsible, I think it's been exemplary," she said, according to the Herald. "I'm sure I speak on behalf of successive governments when I say 'thank you'."
Ardern also said that she hoped the misunderstanding wouldn't affect the ongoing search for Akavi or "undermine" the relationship between New Zealand and the Red Cross, the Herald reports.
It's unclear if Akavi, Rajab and Bakdounes are still alive, though the ICRC said it had received "credible information" that Akavi was alive late last year.
"Following the fall of the last territory held by Islamic State group, we fear there is an extra risk of losing track of Louisa, though we remain hopeful this period will instead open new opportunities for us to learn more about her whereabouts and wellbeing," the ICRC wrote.
The ICRC said it has never been able to learn any more details about Rajab and Bakdounes, and their fate is unknown.