Separatism in Ukraine: Blame Nikita Khrushchev for Ukraine's newest crisis.

By Joshua Keating

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Photo by -/AFP/GettyImages

It seems as if the center of the action in Ukraine may be shifting from Kiev to Crimea, where ousted President Viktor Yanukovych is believed to be hiding. There’s now widespread speculation that Russia could target the region to stoke secessionist sentiments, or even pave the way for annexation.

Crimea is the only region of Ukraine with a majority ethnic Russian population, and there’s been deep hostility to the pro-EU protesters in the capital. Russia also maintains a naval base in Sevastopol, where Yanukovych may now have taken refuge.

The Russian flag has been raised over city hall in the city. The Russian government has also discussed new legislation to make it easier for Russians in the region to obtain Russian passports, and has begun warning of the need to protect the rights of ethnic Russians amid Ukraine’s chaos—a similar strategy to the one it deployed in the breakaway region of Abkhazia prior to the 2008 war with Georgia.

In light of this situation, it’s worth considering how Crimea became part of Ukraine in the first place. Moscow transferred the peninsula—which is connected to the Ukrainian mainland by a narrow isthmus—to the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic in 1954.

It’s often said that Premier Nikita Khrushchev gave Crimea as a “gift” to his adopted country. Khruschev’s relationship with Ukraine is a complex one: He was an ethnic Russian from a town that is now part of Russia, but he rose through the ranks of the Ukrainian communist party and led the region as head of the the party during the worst years of Stalin’s purges.

The initial reasons for the transfer of Crimea may have had less to do with generosity than demographics. Before World War II, Crimea had been home to at least 300,000 Tatars. Because a number of members of the group collaborated with the occupying Nazis during the war, Stalin had the entire community deported in 1944.

As William Taubman writes in his biography of Khrushchev, that same year, Khrushchev—who had always had an eye on expanding Ukrainian territory—began discussing a plan to replace the deported Tatars with peasants from devastated Ukraine. A decade later, after he had succeeded Stalin in Moscow, he was able to finally accomplish the goal.

The transfer of Crimea was framed as a goodwill gesture to mark the 300th anniversary of Ukraine's merger with tsarist Russia. The announcement of the merger in Pravda noted "the economic commonalities, territorial closeness, and communication and cultural links," though as Michigan State historian Lewis Siegelbaum notes, Crimea’s cultural links had always been closer to Russia. At the time, there were about 268,000 Ukrainians and 858,000 ethnic Russians living in the area.

But Khrushchev had evidently had his eye on Crimea for a while, and given what Ukraine had recently been through under Stalin, a propaganda gesture certainly must have seemed advisable.

Both Ukrainians and Russians moved to the area in large numbers in the years since, and the distinction between the two countries wasn’t particularly meaningful until the breakup of the Soviet Union in 1992. Russian President Boris Yeltsin was widely expected to push for Crimea to remain with Russia after independence, but to the dismay of the region’s Russians, he didn’t press the issue during negotiations.

Top Comment

"Crimea is the only region of Russia with a majority ethnic Russian population"  I believe you meant to say:  Crimea is the only region of Ukraine with a majority ethnic Russian population. 

-candide

The area does have a significant Tatar population who returned in the 1980s and 1990s—and who have for the most part supported the protesters this month.  But as we’ve seen in the past two weeks, support for Russia remains strong.

Khrushchev’s gift has turned out to have far more significance than he could have realized at the time, and may form the basis for the next phase of the Ukrainian crisis.

Separatism in Ukraine: Blame Nikita Khrushchev for Ukraine's newest crisis.

Vladimir Putin can destabilize Ukraine: The Russian president doesn’t need to invade to cause chaos.

By Anne Applebaum

Vladimir Putin doesn’t need to invade Ukraine. He can destabilize it from the Kremlin.

Pro-Ukrainian activists rally in front of the Crimean parliament in Semfiropol on Feb. 26, 2014. Photo by Vasily Batanov/AFP/Getty Images

The editor of a publication that will remain unnamed called me in recent days wanting to know what I thought: Would Russia invade Ukraine before midnight? She needed to know before her deadline. I didn’t have any inside information, but I guessed: No, I told her, I didn’t think Russia would invade Ukraine—because it did not need to. 

Since then, armed masked men have occupied the Crimean parliament and raised the Russian flag. But unless the Russian president, Vladimir Putin, suddenly becomes irrational—which of course cannot be excluded, as Russian troops are moving in the area—he must know that a full-scale invasion is entirely unnecessary. After all, he possess a whole arsenal of nonmilitary tactics that could undermine the new Ukrainian government, many of which have been used successfully in the past.

Certainly the organization formerly known as the KGB has some expertise in destabilizing foreign countries, particularly through the use of provokatsiya. One of those non-Slavic words that nevertheless appears in every Slavic language—a prowokacja in Polish, provokace in Czech—a provokatsiya is technically a “provocation.” But it has a narrower meaning as well: a political event or action that the authorities, through their secret services, create to serve their own purposes. A staged crisis; the publication of outrageous documents, authentic or fake; a rapidly organized political movement of the far right or far left; an anonymous bomb explosion—all of these can be provokatsiya. Putin, himself trained in KGB methods, knows all of this very well.

Nor will this be the first time that such games have been played in Ukraine. No one has yet explained, for example, why Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych not only left Kiev after signing an European Union–brokered treaty last week, but also ordered security guards to abandon all government buildings as well. Was that an unsubtle invitation for the opposition to ransack the offices, so that he could claim he had been chased out by a violent coup? The evolution of Ukraine’s “far right” also bears watching. Although at the moment it is a lot smaller than the far right in France or Holland, I wouldn’t be surprised if it begins to grow: It’s amazing how far the ruble goes in a cash-strapped country. A few Molotov cocktails have already been thrown at synagogues. In the current political environment, it’s important to ask: Did they come from real anti-Semites? From paid agents? From both?

The game is not over: The destabilization of Ukraine may only have just begun.

Now Crimea is vulnerable to manipulation. In the past, Russian agents have successfully undermined the sovereignty of Georgia by offering Russian passports and other inducements to the residents of South Ossetia, a Georgian province, and then carrying out a de facto invasion. The same kinds of tactics were used to create the semiautonomous province of Transnistria. Technically part of Moldova, Transnistria lives its own post-Soviet life under de facto Russian control.

Crimea could become a part of Ukraine that is not really ruled by Ukraine. Clearly, the men with machine guns are not the product of a chaotic social movement, as were the protestors in Kiev. Someone bought them their unmarked uniforms, and somebody planned their carefully timed arrival on the scene. Their presence, coupled with major Russian military exercises in the area, may be intended to encourage separatism. So are the warnings that the Russian media has issued about “fascism” and extremism in Kiev. And if separatists don’t appear in large numbers, then the issue can be used anyway as a constant source of anxiety and tension for the fragile new government in Kiev.

Of course economic tools can help wreck that government, too. Two Russian banks have already declared that they will no longer do business in Ukraine, and others may follow. Selective boycotts of particularly vulnerable industries might follow: Ukrainian chocolate exports were blocked last year. The gas supply is harder to play around with—Russian gas goes through Ukraine to other markets in Europe—but the gas price is vulnerable.

Russia might also simply decide to wait it out. Ukraine is careening rapidly toward a default: After years of mismanagement, the country’s finances are unsustainable. If Russia simply waits, Ukraine could well go bankrupt and plunge into real economic chaos. The West could lose patience. The Ukrainians who so bravely stood up for independence in the past few months could grow disillusioned with leaders who will be unable to deliver rapid change. That’s what happened after the Orange Revolution in 2005—and in this part of the world, history does repeat itself.

There are longer-term tactics available to Putin as well. Russia’s corrupt business elite, together with Ukraine’s corrupt business elite, will certainly try to draw Ukraine’s new leaders into the same web that caught Yanukovych as well as his “pro-Western” predecessors, Yulia Tymoshenko and Viktor Yushchenko. There is a lot of money available to Ukrainian politicians of all sorts who don’t mind being on the Russian payroll, and it’s a lot more money than anybody will get from a State Department “democracy” grant.

The game is not over, in other words: The destabilization of Ukraine may only have just begun. The events in Crimea might only be the first act. The young people who braved snow and bullets, protesting against corruption and calling for change, have a whole new series of trials ahead of them.

Vladimir Putin can destabilize Ukraine: The Russian president doesn’t need to invade to cause chaos.

Ukraine’s crisis is a struggle between Russia and the West: Vladimir Putin understands what Barack Obama may not.

 

By Fred Kaplan

President Yanukovych flees Kiev as protesters take control of his palace. How far will Putin go to regain his grip? And will Obama try to stop him?

President Obama needs to play the game, or he risks being played by Vladimir Putin.

Photo-illustration by Slate. Putin: Photo by Alexei Nikolsky/AFP/Getty Images. Obama: Photo by Jewel Samad/AFP/Getty Images

As of Saturday morning, Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych has fled the capital, a day after signing an accord with opposition leaders. In this article, originally published Friday evening and since updated, Fred Kaplan examines the importance of Obama’s and Putin’s next moves.

What’s happening in Ukraine is a very big deal, for reasons that are obvious and inspiring—but also for reasons that are knotty and frightening.

It started last fall, with protests in Kiev’s Independence Square, which swelled and turned violent after the government cracked down. A familiar pattern, but things have taken a twist in just the past 24 hours. President Viktor Yanukovych waved the white flag and, alongside the three main protest leaders, signed a deal that meets nearly all their demands, including the restoration of the 2004 constitution (which he had repealed to give himself more power) and the holding of elections at the end of the year.

Fred Kaplan is the author of The Insurgents and the Edward R. Murrow press fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations.

Almost at once, the Ukrainian parliament assumed its restored powers and passed laws firing the interior minister, granting amnesty to protesters, and freeing Yulia Tymoshenko, a reform politician who, after just barely losing to Yanukovych in the 2010 election, was sentenced to prison for seven years on dubious corruption charges.

But the crisis in Ukraine is far from over. The day’s events mark not its resolution but the start of its political phase. And what’s going on isn’t a clash of democracy versus dictatorship—or, it’s not only that. It is, fundamentally, a struggle for power—not only within Ukraine but also between Russia and the West.

Update, Feb. 22, 12:20 p.m.: This point took on ominous tones Saturday morning, as some of the most radical protesters occupied the presidential palace, Yanukovych fled, and politicians in the eastern, more pro-Russia region of Ukraine declared parliament's measures to be illegal. These developments throw Friday's settlement—as well as the future of the country and its relation to Russia and Europe—into grave uncertainty.

Take a closer look at the genesis of this crisis. It was Yanukovych’s decision in November to back out of a thickening association with the European Union and instead get back in bed with Russia, lured by Vladimir Putin’s offer of a $15 billion bailout. The first protesters came to Independence Square because they wanted to become Europeans, and not just economically; they were protesting their president’s retreat from the Western future to the Eastern past.

Yanukovych might have held things together until he started emulating his benefactor. In January he signed a decree banning public protests, as a result of which the protests grew much larger still. His prime minister resigned. As a sop to the protesters, he offered the post to a member of the opposition party, who turned it down. The turning point may have come just this week, when police launched a savage campaign against the protesters, shooting and beating them at will, occupying half the square in the process—and then, the next day, a wedge of protesters crashed through the barricades, taking the square back. A number of Ukraine watchers declared that Yanukovych’s days were numbered, and he confirmed Friday that they are.

But a few things are worth noting before we pop the cork of freedom’s Champagne.

First, by the time the protesters filled the square and beyond, even extending to cities in eastern Ukraine, their causes were vast and myriad. Many, including some right-wing nationalists who have no interest in the European Union or democracy, had joined the crowd simply to protest the police crackdowns on the protesters. So, as is often the case with these things, it is hard to declare some mandate on a claim of the “people’s will.”

Update: This point is sharpened by the fact that the protesters who occupied the presidential palace Saturday morning are from one of these radical nationalist groups. It's clear that, to them, Friday's accord did not go far enough—or change things quickly enough.

Second, quite apart from right-wing nationalists, the Ukrainian people are evenly divided on whether they want to lean west at all. The initial protesters live mainly in the western part of the country, which does have European leanings as well as borders. But the eastern and southern parts of the country have deep roots in Russia, dating back not just to Soviet times but to Peter the Great. Their land borders Russia, their factories and farms are intertwined with Russian markets.

Third, it is extremely unlikely that Putin will shrug his shoulders and let Ukraine go west. Ukraine is an existential matter for many Russians, especially for Putin, who has described the Soviet Union’s collapse as “the greatest geopolitical catastrophe” of the 20th century” and has announced plans to create a Eurasian Union (as a fanciful counterweight to the European Union), consisting of Russia, Ukraine, Belarus, and Kazakhstan: the heart of the old USSR.

It is worth noting that in the accord signed by Yanukovych, the protest leaders, and three mediators from the European Union, there was also a line to be signed by Vladimir Lukin, the Russian delegate to the talks. Lukin was at the ceremony, but he did not sign the document.

Update: Putin may nonetheless have felt some pressure to abide by Friday's transitional accord, but now that the radical protesters have upended the agreement, with parliament's consent, he may feel no such restraints—and the European Union leaders are placed in an awkward spot themselves: If Putin intervenes with force, on what basis can they resist him?

On Wednesday, while condemning the violence in Ukraine, President Obama said that his approach was “not to see this as some Cold War chessboard in which we are in competition with Russia” but rather to ensure that the Ukrainian people can “make decisions for themselves about their future.”

Three points are worth making here. First, international politics resembled chessboards long before the Cold War, and the resemblance will persist for eons to come. Second, Putin, well-schooled in the “Great Game” of his ancestors, certainly sees the battle for influence in Ukraine as a chessboard. Third, it is a chessboard, and there is a competition. Ukraine is a basket case: If Russia backs off, perhaps to penalize the surrendering Yanukovych (and Russia has halted the next $2 billion progress payment on its bailout), then someone has to step in. Are the EU and the United States up to it? If they aren’t, Ukraine will tumble. If they are, their move will be seen as a challenge to Russia, and tensions will soar, with accompanying miscalculations.

But perhaps Obama was sending Putin a signal—one that emphasized the second sentence of his remarks, the one about wanting the Ukrainian people to make their own decisions. Perhaps he was telling Putin that the United States has no intention of grabbing Ukraine away from Russia’s sphere but that the country should be allowed to determine its own future in free elections. (Obama spoke directly with Putin on the phone Friday afternoon.) No doubt pro-Russian parties will run in the upcoming elections. Maybe one of them will win; if not, their party or parties will surely have a strong voice in the revived parliament.

Update: Saturday morning the Ukrainian parliament moved up the elections to May, but already pro-Russia factions are declaring the move illegal. Will they take part in the elections or simply move to seize power themselves, perhaps this time with active Russian backing?

It wouldn’t have been at all surprising if the Ukrainian police had continued stomping the protesters until the square was empty. There was a time, not long ago, when Russian stormtroopers would have added their guns and batons to the “correlation of forces.” If the street violence is really over, if free and fair elections really are held at the end of the year, those things in themselves would mark another watershed in Ukrainian politics.

Earlier this month, Timothy Garton Ash, one of the most astute observers of post-Soviet politics, expressed the hope that by this time next year, on the 70^th anniversary of the Yalta agreement, “Ukraine should again be a halfway functioning state” that “should have signed an association agreement with the EU but also have close ties with Russia.”

As recently as yesterday, that vision seemed quixotic. Today, it seems not quite likely, but—miracle enough—possible.

Ukraine’s crisis is a struggle between Russia and the West: Vladimir Putin understands what Barack Obama may not.

Ukraine: 'The dictatorship has fallen.' But what will take its place?

 

Shaun Walker and Harriet Salem in Kiev The Observer, Sunday 23 February 2014

It was a day of incredible drama throughout Ukraine. After a week of bloody protests the president finally fled, the police melted away and the opposition seized control. Ex-prime minister Yulia Tymoshenko was released and addressed huge crowds in Kiev. Shaun Walker and Harriet Salem report

Protesters wave the Ukrainian flag in front of the residence of president Viktor Yanukovych. Photograph: Sergey Dolzhenko/EPA

As one disgraced president fled Kiev in the early hours of Saturday morning, so another aspiring one had landed in the city by evening. Within a few hours of being released from her prison hospital in the eastern city of Kharkiv, Yulia Tymoshenko had flown to Kiev and was being wheeled into Independence Square to address the crowds.

Hunched in a wheelchair, needed because of back problems, but with a resolute expression and her hair pulled into her trademark plait, she yelled rousing words from the stage to the crowd, telling them they must stay in central Kiev until their work was over, and those responsible for the violence are punished.

"If we let those who shot bullets into the hearts of our heroes escape responsibility, if we forgive them, it will be our shame for ever," she said, in a voice cracked with emotion. She had earlier said she plans to run for president, in elections that could now come as early as May. "Our homeland will from today on be able to see the sun and sky as a dictatorship has fallen," she added.

Former Ukrainian prime minister Yulia Tymoshenko speaks during a rally in Kiev after her release from prison. Photograph: Maxim ShipenkovEPA

Not everyone in Ukraine likes Tymoshenko; indeed, far from everyone on Independence Square likes her, as could be divined from the lukewarm reaction she was given. Her words of support for the protest and of grief for the dead were well received, but only a minority joined in the chanting of her name.

Nonetheless, few would dispute her extraordinary political acumen, something that has been acutely missing from the opposition leaders since protests broke out in Ukraine, as they have uneasily surfed the waves of discontent rather than directed events. Although she appears far more frail, aged and incapacitated than she did when she was last in the public eye, she clearly still retains her fiery political ambition.

"I am returning to work, she said. "I will not miss a minute, in order to help you again feel happy in your own land."

In an extraordinary symmetry, as Tymoshenko's plane was landing in Kiev, there were rumours that ousted leader Viktor Yanukovych's jet was being denied permission to leave the country. In a stilted television address earlier in the evening, he announced he was still the president, but few others seemed to believe him. His exact location was unclear throughout the day, but it could be said with certainly that he was not at home, and half of Kiev turned up to his residence to see for themselves. With its pine pavilions, covered tennis courts, bubbling fountains and palatial residences, the Mezhyhirya compound provided Ukrainians with a striking picture of the bloated corruption of Yanukovych and his clan.

People walk on the grounds of the Mezhyhirya residence of Ukraine's president Viktor Yanukovich outside Kiev. Photograph: Konstantin Chernichkin/Reuters

Few had any doubts as to the level of wealth he had amassed for himself, and the compound itself has been the subject of swirling rumours for some time. But seeing the wealth of riches with their own eyes still took their breath away.

Thousands streamed to his residence, a 40-minute drive from central Kiev, to see the epicentre of the regime they have been protesting against for three months. Yanukovych has only rarely appeared in public since the crisis began in early December. He was presumably pacing the miles of paved walkways amid the lakes, fountains and exotic pet collection, trying to weigh up the pressure from Russia to crack down against the pressure from the west to make concessions.

And then, suddenly, he was gone. His residence was unguarded, the control booths dotted along the high, forest-green security perimeter empty, and the police barracks at the back deserted. People streamed past the x-ray machine at the entrance to the compound, making mockery of a large sign warning that only those with official permission were allowed to pass this point.

"Walking around here, I get the impression that Ukraine should be a very rich country," said 22-year-old Anton, who was not part of the protest movement but lives in a village near the compound and arrived after reading online that it was possible to get in. "All of this, all of it, is paid for with our money, with the people's taxes."

It was not only the president who had disappeared. Along with him went the cordons of riot police in the centre of the capital, and indeed all signs of central authority, as Kiev appeared fully under the control of the protest movement. A few days ago the massed lines of police guarding government buildings and the presidential residence appeared impenetrable. They evaporated without a trace overnight.

On Saturday morning the parliament and the presidential administration compound in central Kiev were guarded by the protesters. They had also set up checkpoints at a number of key points on roads entering the city.

People guard the the Ukrainian parliament building in Kiev. Photograph: Maxim Shipenkov/EPA

The only visible presence of authority was a quartet of traffic police, trying in vain to direct the huge flow of cars heading for the presidential residence. "We are just here to try to avoid traffic jams – we are working as usual," said one. Asked where the regular police were, he merely shrugged.

Late in the evening, a few police were visible outside the SBU security services building, with Ukrainian armbands tied to their arms to denote loyalty to the protest. They said they were from a division that guards foreign embassies, and were working in collaboration with the protesters. Inside the SBU building, there was a meeting between protest leaders and intelligence officials, in yet another sign that Yanukovych's grip on the capital is well beyond salvation.

Throughout the day, funeral services were held on Independence Square for the victims of last week, and in front of the main stage, coffins were still laid out in the rain. In the Obolon district, people paid their final respects to Sergey Shapoval. The 44-year-old, who was shot twice in the chest by snipers, was just one of 77 people to die in the capital during the bloodiest week in Ukraine's post-independence history. He was returned to his family home in an open casket. Pink, red and yellow carnations, brought by the mourners, covered his body.

A bearded Orthodox priest dressed in black robes performed an open-air farewell ceremony to an audience of around 70 family members and friends, who clutched at candles and crossed themselves. "It is the highest quality of person who gives his life for his friends," he intoned, splashing holy water across the body and performing religious rituals with perfumed incense smoke. "God show mercy to his soul."

His elderly mother, Katerina, stooped over the coffin, caressed her son's grey face and hair and wailed in grief. "Why did you leave me? See how many people have come here to see you pass. There is no life left in you. May the bastards that did this to you feel this on their own children."

Shapoval's neighbours and friends described him as a kind, generous and softly spoken man who had no radical views but felt it was his duty to stand with the protest movement, even when things got violent. His girlfriend, Olga Streltsova, is a volunteer medic helping with the protest movement, and said she last saw him a few hours before he died. "I was worried about him so I tried to get in contact, but he didn't answer his phone any more, he was dead," she said, tears streaming down her face. "He loved his country, he wanted the best for it. He died for this country – he gave everything to it."

Back at Yanukovych's compound, the mood was one of joy mixed with disbelief. A man wearing combat fatigues stood on top of a car and took to a loudspeaker to announce: "This is the day we were waiting for – today that day has come."

An advance group of protesters had entered the complex early in the morning, finding it deserted, and kept everyone else out for several hours, claiming they were checking the territory for mines.

People light candles in Independence square after parliament voted to oust Viktor Yanukovych. Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images

Once the gates were opened, there were entreaties that nothing should be looted or vandalised, which were met with enthusiastic applause, and, at least in the first hours, nobody attempted to break into any of the buildings. Instead they made do with peeks through the windows into marbled reception rooms lined with malachite vases and chandeliers. The main residence was a huge, five-storey wooden mansion, with twin balconies overlooking the vast expanse of the Dnieper river and adorned with faux-classical columns.

An MP from the nationalist Svoboda party, Eduard Leonov, said that in future the complex should become a sanatorium for disabled children and orphans. Astounded visitors gawped at riches on display as if they were visitors on a tour of a historical site. They took selfies by the sauna complex, the vintage car collection and the fountains.

The complex is so large that it took hours to walk around, and new discoveries were made all the time. By the river was a dock, a wooden boat decked out as a restaurant, an aviary filled with exotic birds and a petting zoo complete with antelope and pigs. A golf course stretched as far as the eye could see, and a smooth asphalted road led to a helipad.

A mirrored dome emerging from the ground turned out to be the roof of an underground boxing ring, while a pagoda housed a giant barbecue, complete with a grilling tray, skewers and stacks of firewood to create the perfect presidential kebab.

The situation in Kiev remains as unpredictable as it has been for most of the past three months, but one thing seems clear – Yanukovych is unlikely ever to live in this vast compound again. Although on Saturday evening he was still claiming to rule Ukraine, those touring the grounds said it was impossible.

"I work in construction, I know how much it must have cost to build something like this," said 41-year-old Alexander Mironyuk, shaking his head as he recorded a video of the grounds on his mobile phone. "Once everyone sees how he lived, there will be no way back for him. This is just disgusting."

Ukraine: 'The dictatorship has fallen.' But what will take its place? | World news | The Observer

Can a Muslim take a one-way trip to Mars? A fatwa says no.

By Sudeshna Chowdhury, Staff writer / February 21, 2014 

 

A one-way journey to Mars is not justifiable under Islam, according to an edict issued by a fatwa committee under the General Authority of Islamic Affairs and Endowment in the United Arab Emirates.

The Dutch non-profit Mars One is currently screening applicants for a one-way trip to the Red Planet, with the aim of establishing a permanent human settlement. A religious edict issued by an Islamic body in Dubai has prohibited involvement in the mission, citing the risks. NASA and Hubble Heritage Team/AP

According to the Khaleej Times, a Dubai-based English-language media outlet, a fatwa committee under the United Arab Emirates' General Authority of Islamic Affairs and Endowment (GAIAE) has issued a fatwa prohibiting involvement in a one-way trip to the Red Planet.

The fatwa comes as Mars One, a Dutch non-profit seeking to establish a permanent Martian colony, continues to screen more than 200,000 applications for its four-person, one-way trip to Mars, scheduled for 2024.

The Khaleej Times quoted the committee as saying, “Such a one-way journey poses a real risk to life, and that can never be justified in Islam. There is a possibility that an individual who travels to planet Mars may not be able to remain alive there, and is more vulnerable to death.”

According to the Times, the GAIAE warned that those who undertake this journey is likely to die for no "righteous reason," and are risking punishment in the afterlife "similar to that of suicide."

In its reply to the fatwa, Mars One stated, "If we may be so bold: the GAIAE should not analyse the risk as they perceive it today. The GAIAE should assess the potential risk for humans as if an unmanned habitable outpost is ready and waiting on Mars. Only when that outpost is established will human lives be risked in Mars One's plan." In its statement, Mars One also requested the GAIAE to cancel the Fatwa.

The religious ruling has also irked some Muslim scholars.

This kind of a religious ruling point toward "the lack of scientific knowledge among the religious scholars on such bodies, most of whom are traditionally learned older sheikhs who have not obtained a science education in the way a normal western student does," Khaleel Mohammed, assistant professor of Religion at the San Diego State University told the Monitor.

"This type of religious ruling, while coming forth as the extremist nonsense that it actually is, seems to have a totally different intent." Mohammed specializes in Islam, Islamic Law, Comparative Religion.

Back in 2006, the National Space Agency of Malaysia (ANGKASA) had convened a meeting of Muslim astronauts and religious scholars to resolve issues such as, determining the timings of prayers and the direction Muslim astronauts should face while praying, while in space. The issue came up when the Malaysian government announced to send the first Malaysia’s astronaut to the International Space Station. Post the convention, the Department of Islamic Development Malaysia (JAKIM) came up with 'A Guideline of Performing Ibadah at the International Space Station (ISS)'

Can a Muslim take a one-way trip to Mars? A fatwa says no. - CSMonitor.com

Geek life vs.. Greek life

 Rebecca Rogalski | Monday, February 17, 2014

Before transferring to the University of Notre Dame this past fall, I spent my freshman year down in SEC territory at the University of Missouri. Upon my acceptance to Missouri, I made a commitment to positively improve myself both academically and socially throughout my four years of college, no matter what.
In terms of academia, it was evident that I would succeed at Missouri, even as I was pursuing a journalism degree from one of the most highly touted journalism schools in the nation. However, when it came to the social aspect of my collegiate experience, that promise I had made to myself could not be upheld. This reasoning can be summed up by two simple words: Greek life.
You can’t attend a state school and not hear about the Greek community. At these schools, fraternities and sororities are the central hub for the collegiate social scene across the nation. Throughout my time at the University of Missouri, I experienced exactly what it was like to be a member of the Greek community. Unfortunately, this experience left me disheartened, feeling as if my overall growth as an individual had been impaired. I eventually determined, this college environment that I once thought would have a strong sense of community was utterly shattered by the very presence of Greek life.
The polarization between Greeks and Non-Greeks at the University of Missouri was the main indicator of a significant problem. It seemed as though the only way to have the social life that I wanted could be found through Greek life. But, once you joined the Greeks, there was no going back. Non-Greek students, labelled “GDI’s” (abbreviated for “God D*** Independents”), were harshly ridiculed by fraternity men and sorority women alike.
How does this behaviour foster a communal environment? Where is the class and maturity that these Greek men and women claim to uphold? I find it incredibly appalling that this lack of respect for others is tolerated.
At the University of Notre Dame, we pride ourselves on living by the foundation that Father Sorin set forth. He envisioned Notre Dame as becoming “one of the most powerful means of doing good in this country”. I believe that the University’s familial sense of community can be attributed to that vision. One can see this displayed through the “Peace be with you” hugs at dorm mass, singing the alma mater after football games and earnestly praying alongside one another at the Grotto. We are 8,000 students strong, standing beside our fellow peers through it all.
So the next time you explain to someone that dorm life is exactly like Greek life, please re-evaluate your statements. Here at Notre Dame, we rise above the Greek life standard, respecting all by treating one another with dignity and compassion. We are Notre Dame students. We are all nerds. We are all cool.

The views expressed in the Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

Geek life vs.. Greek life // The Observer