Nio miljoner myggor ska stoppa dengue i Honduras

Nio miljoner myggor ska stoppa dengue i Honduras

I decennier har människor i Honduras lärt sig att frukta myggor och den denguefeber som de kan bära på. Men nu testas en ny strategi för att stoppa viruset i landet – där den tidigare fienden i stället blir en allierad, skriver AP. Forskare har fött upp myggor som bär på en särskild bakteriesläkt, Wolbachia, som visat sig stoppa spridningen av dengue. När myggorna förökar sig överför de bakterierna till sina avkommor, vilket väntas minska utbrotten i framtiden. Det kommande halvåret kommer nio miljoner myggor som bär på bakterien att släppas ut Honduras, där 10 000 insjuknar i dengue varje år. – Det finns ett desperat behov av nya tillvägagångssätt, säger Scott O'Neill, grundare av den ideella organisation som utvecklat strategin.

Sällsynta fåglar riskerar utrotning – på grund av knarkhandel

Sällsynta fåglar riskerar utrotning – på grund av knarkhandel

En ny rapport från Nature sustainability visar på oväntade konsekvenser av narkotikahandeln på den biologiska mångfalden. Langarna i Centralamerika har nämligen flyttat in sin smuggling i skogarna för att undvika att bli upptäckta av myndigheter, vilket i sin tur leder till avskogning. Förflyttningen tenderar nämligen att ske i skogarna som har högst konserveringsvärde säger rapportens huvudförfattare Amanda D Rodewall, professor på Cornells ornitologlabb, i The Guardian. – Det påverkar både de mest utsatta mänskliga och icke-mänskliga befolkningarna, säger hon. Påverkar ursprungsbefolkningen Miljontals hektar av skog har förstörts av de landningsbanor och vägar som byggts för att smuggla narkotika, men även den ursprungsbefolkning som skogen tillhör påverkas. De blir tvungna att ta emot betalning från narkotikahandlarna och gå med på deras villkor för drogsmugglingen. – Om de gör motstånd tas deras land och våld följer ofta. För dem som inte tvångsfördrivs sin mark är de enda återstående alternativen att samarbeta eller fly över internationella gränser, säger medförfattaren för rapporten, Nicholas Magliocca, från University of Alabama. 67 fågelarter riskerar utrotning Undersökningen visar även att det har effekter på lokala fågelpopulationen. Hela 67 fågelarter som föder upp ungar i nordamerikanska skogsområden och övervintrar i Centralamerika är i risk för utrotning. Den gulkindade skogssångaren är särskilt hotad eftersom 90 procent av populationen bor i skogar som riskeras att användas för narkotikasmuggling. Även Kanadavireon har 70 procent av sin skog hotad. I Guatemala, Honduras och Nicaragua kan ungefär 15-30 procent av all avskogning som sker direkt kopplas till smuggling och handel av kokain.

Meira och Oskar om tiden efter Love is blind: "Går inte att greppa"

Meira och Oskar om tiden efter Love is blind: "Går inte att greppa"

Det stora samtalsämnet i fikarummen så här i inledningen av året torde vara realitysåpan "Love is blind Sverige, som visats på Netflix. Under söndagen visades det sista avsnittet för säsongen, och tittarna fick veta hur det gått för deltagarna sedan de gifte sig i programmet. För Meira Omar och Oskar Nordstrand, som fortsatt att vara ett par, har tiden efter programmet med all uppmärksamhet varit chockartad. – Det går inte riktigt att greppa faktiskt, säger Oskar Nordstrand i Efter fem. – Det är verkligen folk från hela världen som hör av sig. Otroligt kul att folk från Malaysia och Honduras också tittar på det här, säger Meira Omar. Höll relationen hemlig En av utmaningarna har varit att hålla relationen hemlig under de nio månader som passerat sedan de gifte sig i programmet. – Det har varit lite tufft. Vi har ändå kunnat leva våra liv mer eller mindre som vanligt bland vänner och familj. Men sen har man behövt hålla det hemligt utåt och varit lite orolig för att spoila någonting, säger Meira Omar. Chocken i finalen En av hemligheterna som avslöjades i programmets final var att ett annat par, Sergio Rincón och Amanda Jonegård, väntar barn ihop. Vad som också kom upp till ytan var att Sergio, kort efter att inspelningarna var klara, fick veta att han blivit pappa även på annat håll. För Meira och Oskar kom beskedet som en blixt från klar himmel. – Jag tyckte faktiskt lite synd om Sergio och Amanda där och då. De är otroligt modiga tycker jag, som går ut på internationell tv inför en kvarts miljard prenumeranter på Netflix och berättar det här, säger Oskar Nordstrand, och fortsätter: – Ingen i produktionen visste, ingen av oss visste. Det är en så privat och personlig grej. Jag tyckte litegrann, give them a break. Nu ska de ställa sig in i att leva i den här nya miljön som tvåbarnsföräldrar snart. Så att , gratulera och ge dem det utrymmet.

Världens "mordhuvudstad" blev gängfri – men priset ifrågasätts

Världens "mordhuvudstad" blev gängfri – men priset ifrågasätts

Över 72 000 personer har fängslats i El Salvador med hjälp av de särskilda undantagslagar som president Nayib Bukele infört. I ett reportage beskriver The Washington Post hur nattliga skottsalvor ersatts av den stilla brisen i mangoträden. Gängen är borta från gatorna. – Folk bryr sig inte om att gängens nederlag kommer till priset av tragedi för tusentals familjer, säger antropologen Juan Martínez d’Aubuisso, som studerat landets kriminella nätverk, till tidningen. Många har gripits på vaga eller oklara grunder. En av dessa är den 56-åriga lokaljournalisten Victor Barahona som satt inne som fånge 209683 i en cell med runt hundra andra. Han släpptes ut efter elva månader – utan att få något svar på varför han greps. (Svensk översättning av Omni). The Salvadoran president's crackdown has made him Latin America's most popular leader. Meanwhile, the government is now holding 71,000 people - many, activists say, on specious grounds. By Mary Beth Sheridan 19 September, 2023 VALLE DEL SOL, El Salvador - Red zones, they're called. Swaths of countryside controlled by gangs. For years, as El Salvador became known as the world's murder capital, Victor Barahona lived in a red zone - a town where gunfire crackled in the night, and taxi drivers were too terrified to pick up fares. But now, as an afternoon breeze stirred the mango and cashew trees, Barahona strolled through a town transformed. The gangs had vanished. "How's it going?" called Delmy Velázquez, who no longer worries about her teenage daughters being molested. "Thank God, everything's changed," remarked Marielos Reyes, who can visit friends in towns once cut off by rival gangs. Over the past year, the Salvadoran government has dismantled some of the hemisphere's most violent criminal groups. That has turned President Nayib Bukele into an icon in Latin America, with approval ratings of 90 percent. Barahona, a 56-year-old community journalist, can see the rebirth of this Central American country in every block of his town: In the once-abandoned homes, where fans are now whirring. In the snack shop opened by a widow who was once exiled by the gangs. But as he walked past the wall daubed "Transform your life in Christ," past the kids' soccer field he'd helped build, past old friends and fellow evangelicals, no one mentioned one awkward fact. Until recently, he'd been Prisoner 209683. Barahona was swept up in a "war on gangs" that has cleared much of the country of pistol-wielding hoodlums - including this town north of San Salvador - and made Bukele a household name from Honduras to Argentina. But the crackdown has also raised alarms about the rights of thousands of people like Barahona, who are arrested without explanation and held for months. Bukele's government has used emergency powers to jail more than 72,000 suspects - giving El Salvador the world's highest lockup rate. They face mass trials of up to 900 defendants. Human rights groups say many were arrested arbitrarily. The government has acknowledged some errors, freeing around 7,000. But Bukele, who took office in 2019, makes no apologies for the offensive. In videos set to thumping music, he has showed prisoners herded into a "mega-prison" for 40,000, their backs emblazoned with the telltale tattoos of the gangs: MS-13, Barrio 18. "This will be their new house," the 42-year-old president said in one tweet, "where they will live for decades." Bukele's appeal goes far beyond this nation of 6 million people - and it's easy to see why. Drug cartels and other crime groups have entrenched themselves throughout Latin America. In many democracies - Brazil, Chile, Colombia, Mexico, Ecuador - more than half of residents feel unsafe walking alone at night, according to a Gallup poll released last year. (The rate in the United States is 26 percent; in Canada, it's 20 percent.) "Insecurity and crime have become, in a way, the animating force of our time," said Juan Pappier, the acting deputy Americas director of Human Rights Watch. Even in this violent landscape, El Salvador stood out. Its gangs, which were founded by men deported from the United States, grew to an army of at least 60,000, with branches as far away as the suburbs of Washington, D.C. They killed tens of thousands of Salvadorans and extorted everyone from major bus lines to tortilla vendors. One president after another imposed "iron fist" policies, but the gangs persisted. Until now. "The Bukele Miracle," the Colombian newsmagazine Semana calls it. Sandra Torres, a presidential candidate this year in Guatemala, vowed to replicate that miracle by importing the "Bukele Model." So did the mayor of Lima, who's invited Salvadoran officials to the Peruvian capital to offer advice. Jan Topić, a law-and-order presidential candidate, has been dubbed "the Ecuadorian Bukele." Can the Bukele Model be exported? Many analysts are dubious. El Salvador is small, the size of New Jersey. And Bukele doesn't face the same legislative or legal hurdles that other leaders do. His New Ideas party controls Congress. Its legislators have given him control over the legal system too - replacing key members of the Supreme Court and scores of prosecutors and judges. When Bukele sought a one-month state of emergency in March 2022, the request sailed through Congress. It has been extended 18 times. "The Bukele Model is this," said Juan Martínez d'Aubuisson, an anthropologist who has studied El Salvador's gangs. "Concentrating all the power in one man." Bukele did not respond to an interview request. His security minister declined to comment. Under emergency rule, the national police and military have detained suspects inside homes, in backyard hammocks, at construction sites. Human rights groups say many have been arrested on specious evidence: They had a tattoo, or a criminal record, or a feud with someone who called the police tip line with a false accusation. When Barahona heard the knock on his door in June 2022, he had no idea what was coming. The police officers were wondering why Barahona was living alone. He was divorced, he told them. His three adult kids lived nearby. Had he ever been arrested? No. Did he have a tattoo? He rolled up his sleeve to show the faded black outlines of a rose. He had gotten it when he was 20, a weightlifter working at a gym. Now he was a grandfather, his hair a graying bristle, his teeth yellowed like old piano keys. The officers handcuffed him. Three days later, Barahona was charged with supporting a gang. The police report said he had been "acting suspiciously," he was told. The national police did not respond to a request for comment. Barahona landed in a cell with around 100 men at the Izalco prison, west of San Salvador. They slept packed together "like slices of sandwich bread," he said. Meals were small portions of plain spaghetti, tortillas, and rice and beans. They got two hard-boiled eggs a week. Fungal infections sprouted on Barahona's hands and feet. By March, he hadn't been out in the sun for eight months. When the men were given Bibles, he squinted. "I couldn't read the Scriptures." Barahona's account, provided in July, couldn't be independently confirmed. But it matches reports compiled by the human rights organization Cristosal. Salvadoran jails have reached "overcrowding levels never seen in this country," the group said. Prison authorities did not respond to a request for comment. At least 181 detainees have died since the start of emergency rule, Cristosal's executive director, Noah Bullock, told The Washington Post. Some were beaten so badly, he said, that their stomachs and intestines were destroyed. They "couldn't eat anymore," he said, "and ended up dying of hunger." Salvadoran officials deny torturing detainees. And they say the death rate in prisons was higher under Bukele's predecessor, President Salvador Sánchez Cerén. Indeed, human rights groups have accused the ex-president of turning prisons into torture centers. "That ruined the structure of the maras," or gangs, said Martinez, the anthropologist. By the time Sánchez Cerén left office, he had cut the homicide rate in half. He paved the way for Bukele. But curiously, even as Bukele dramatically escalated arrests, the gangs didn't fight back. That has raised speculation the gang bosses were bought off. There's a tradition in El Salvador of politicians secretly negotiating with the gangs, and it continued at least into the early years of Bukele's government, investigations by the U.S. Treasury and Justice departments show. Bukele has objected strenuously to such claims. The president's critics at home and abroad accuse him of violating human rights and strangling democracy. Bukele says they're missing the point. "Nobody says criminals don't have rights," he said in a speech last year. "But why is the focus always on the rights of criminals, while for the vast majority - the honorable people - no one cares about their rights?" In Villa del Sol, residents shrug off the allegations of human rights abuses. They're nothing new. Barahona's old friend Cesar Acevedo was imprisoned and tortured in 2017, he said, after the local gang ordered him to use his pickup truck to carry a bag of human remains to a burial site. So many people like him had become accomplices, willing or not, in gang-ridden towns: paying extortion, handing over food, providing a ride. When Bukele declared his state of emergency, Acevedo said, "I didn't sleep or eat for the first two or three months." But this time, he wasn't arrested. Now, his adult children can visit this town without fear. Acevedo gives the president a near-perfect rating: "I'm very happy." Salvadorans have the highest rate of support for democracy of any country in Latin America, at 64 percent, according to a study issued recently by Latinobarómetro. One reason Bukele looks good to many Salvadorans: Each of his three predecessors has been charged with crimes, including corruption and money laundering. The Salvadoran constitution limits presidents to a single term, but Bukele has announced he will seek reelection in February. Other signs of democratic decline are more subtle. Salvadorans are euphoric over the sharp decrease in crime following the anti-gang roundups. But few have noticed the government has stopped issuing detailed homicide data. Celia Medrano, a human rights activist and opposition politician, said it's clear murders have dropped. But how much? She noted that Bukele has been accused in the past of manipulating numbers to enhance his image. The newspaper La Prensa Gráfica recently reported his government acknowledged only one-third of the suspected covid-19 deaths that occurred during the pandemic. "Who's to say they're not doing the same thing with homicide figures?" she asked. After 11 months in prison, Barahona was released in May. His family barely recognized him. He had lost more than 70 pounds. He was "like a piece of paper," his daughter Andrea said. "So, so white." Barahona says he doesn't know why he was imprisoned, why he was released, or why he's still listed as under investigation. He suspects local officials were annoyed by his interview shows on radio and TV. Angélica Cárcamo heads the Journalists Association of El Salvador, which has hired lawyers to defend Barahona. She thinks his arrest might have been retaliation for his work. Or perhaps he had unwittingly crossed paths with someone who didn't appear to be in a gang. It was a long-standing issue, she said. "Who's a gang member? The guy with the tattoos? Or someone you don't know is involved?" Andrés Guzmán, El Salvador's commissioner for human rights and freedom of expression, said in a WhatsApp message that "No journalists are, or have been, detained for exercising their profession." He declined to elaborate on Barahona's case. Martínez, the anthropologist, said he understood the jubilation over the defeat of the gangs - but "people don't care that this happiness comes via the tragedy of thousands of families" of detainees. "This is a society with very little empathy." Others call it survival. Verónica Reyna, a security analyst, said people in impoverished neighborhoods had suffered so much from both gang violence and police abuse that "the only thing you seek is not to be on the receiving end." It was a fate that Barahona had been unable to avoid, a fate that others before him couldn't escape either, back when El Salvador wasn't a regional celebrity. On the night Barahona returned home, his old neighbor Acevedo got a call. When he heard the news, Acevedo burst into tears. © 2023 The Washington Post. Sign up for the Today's Worldview newsletter here.

Lourdes, 63: De biter – men du kommer inte bli sjuk

Lourdes, 63: De biter – men du kommer inte bli sjuk

Lourdes Betancourt, 63, har smittats av denguefeber flera gånger. Nu är hon volontär i det projekt där miljontals laboratorieuppfödda myggor ska stoppa virusets spridning i Honduras, skriver AP. Betancourt uppmanar sina grannar att göra sina trädgårdar till hem för ”goda myggor”. – Jag säger åt folk att inte vara rädda, att det här inte är något dåligt, att ha tillit. De kommer att bita dig, men du kommer inte få denguefeber. Exakt varför myggorna, som bär på så kallade Wolbachia-bakterier, inte sprider dengue vidare vet inte forskare. Det är inte heller säkert att bakterierna kommer att vara lika effektiva på alla stammar av viruset, eller om några virusstammar kommer att bli resistenta. – Det är verkligen inte en engångslösning som garanteras, säger myggforskaren Bobby Reiner vid University of Washington.

Oväntat tyst vid Rio Grande – fungerar Bidens nya migrationsstrategi?

Oväntat tyst vid Rio Grande – fungerar Bidens nya migrationsstrategi?

Det har varit oväntat tyst vid Rio Grande i sommar – allt färre migranter från Latinamerika har försökt att olovligen korsa gränsen till USA. Enligt förklaring till den plötsliga minskningen kan vara att Vita husets nya migrationsstrategi ser ut att ha gett effekt, skriver Foreign Affairs. Striktare gränskontroller, fler lagliga sätt att ta sig till USA och att asylansökningar utvärderas i ursprungsländerna är några av åtgärderna i det nya paketet. Om strategin fungerar på lång sikt kan den bli förebild för hur andra regeringar världen över ska ta emot människor på ett säkert sätt. Washington Has Found a Formula for Managing Migration – and Now Must Build on It By Andrew Selee 9 August, 2023 Throughout the spring, observers across the political spectrum predicted a sudden surge in illegal crossings at the U.S.-Mexican border. For more than a year, over 150,000 people—and often well over 200,000—had been arriving at the southern border each month, straining capacity throughout nearby communities and leaving many awaiting entry to the United States in perilous conditions in Mexico, where they were sometimes vulnerable to exploitation, robbery, and assault. But in May came the expiration of Title 42, a temporary COVID-19 policy that had allowed the U.S. government to expel migrants quickly back into Mexico. Even U.S. President Joe Biden, who had worked to quell mayhem at the border, predicted a sudden influx of migrants. Instead, the opposite has happened. Far from devolving into chaos, the border has experienced an eerie quiet. In June, the average number of daily unauthorized crossings dropped from more than 6,000 a day over the prior twelve months to a mere 3,300. In fact, there were fewer unauthorized arrivals that month than at any point since February 2021, at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic and shortly after Biden took office. Although the numbers have ticked up slightly in July to around 4,300 arrivals a day, they have remained far below the prior year’s average. Much to Washington’s surprise, the Biden administration appears to have hit on a successful formula for managing dysfunction at the border—at least for now. The new migration policy is built around a three-part strategy: tightening enforcement at the U.S.-Mexican border, expanding legal pathways for entry, and vetting candidates for asylum and humanitarian protection in countries of origin rather than primarily at the border itself. This integrated approach marks a departure from the previous strategy of confining the entry decision-making process almost exclusively to the border. All three policy elements are at an embryonic stage, and more migrants could attempt to cross into the country in the coming months as the deadly summer heat at the border gives way to a cooler fall. But so far, in the crucial months following the end of Title 42, the Biden administration’s strategy appears to be working. The new policy faces challenges: its survival and chances of success depend on whether there is sufficient political will and logistical capacity to continue building it out and, just as important, whether U.S. courts deem it legal. But if the strategy works over the long term, it will mark an ambitious effort to reimagine how governments manage the flow of migrants in a safer, more organized way that moves the admittance process much further upstream, long before most potential migrants reach the border. And the need for such an effort grows more crucial by the day. With people around the world more mobile than ever and many developed countries facing labor shortages, governments are struggling to ensure that people arrive through legal pathways. Migration systems have long been plagued by a mismatch between the supply of willing workers abroad, some of whom also have protection needs, and the narrow legal avenues for entry, despite the real demand for labor in destination countries. Without legal pathways, irregular migration routes multiply. This deficit has exposed migrants to dangerous journeys, undermined the credibility of immigration systems, and poisoned the politics around immigration in country after country, not least in the United States. If the Biden administration’s approach succeeds, it would set a precedent that could be adapted elsewhere—to the benefit of both migrants and the destination countries. First, however, the policy has to work. So far, the Biden administration’s strategy of expanding legal pathways while reducing unauthorized migration appears to be paying off. But the new policy nonetheless faces a slew of legal and logistical challenges that threaten its viability in the short term. Determining the strategy’s chances of survival requires assessing its three separate elements, how they fit together, and the distinct hurdles they must overcome. The first—and most visible—measure has received the most attention so far. The overwhelming majority of illegal crossings at the U.S.-Mexican border take place between ports of entry—designated crossing points where people may enter the country—in the vast unoccupied stretches of desert and scrub that characterize the southern boundary. The Biden administration has made it much harder for people to seek asylum if they enter the country without authorization by creating a presumption of ineligibility for asylum for anyone who crosses between ports of entry. Unaccompanied minors are exempt from this rule, but others who enter in an unauthorized location must now demonstrate that they qualify for asylum. Those deemed ineligible can be deported either to Mexico or to their country of origin. Once formally removed, they face a five-year ban on reentering the United States, under threat of criminal prosecution. In exchange, asylum seekers can now make an appointment through an online app, CPB One, and eventually present themselves at a port of entry to be processed for admission into the United States, with roughly 1,450 appointment slots available each day. The threat of deportation appears to be working as a credible deterrent to many potential unauthorized migrants, as they risk being sent home directly and losing the money they have invested in the journey north. At the same time, the access to appointments at ports of entry has created an orderly process through which migrants can request entry. But these measures represent more of a change on paper than they do in practice. In reality, tens of thousands of unauthorized migrants are still being released into the United States to wait for immigration court hearings. The U.S. government does not have the institutional capacity to carry out adequate numbers of initial screenings that determine whether an asylum seeker has a credible fear of persecution or torture. Unable to identify those who are ineligible for asylum under the new rules and subsequently deport them, the U.S. government has often reverted to the status quo. It allows migrants—especially families, which the government is reluctant to hold in detention—to wait out the process in the United States or, in some cases, to return voluntarily back to Mexico. Meanwhile, those who present themselves at ports of entry with CBP One appointments are still not undergoing immediate screenings for asylum, because there simply are not enough asylum officers. Instead, these migrants are being admitted to the country and later allowed to apply for asylum. Once they apply, they are then assigned a hearing date that is often many years down the road, and are consigned to a legal limbo in the meantime. But even though the reality on the ground marks less of a change than the new rules suggest, the shift toward greater border enforcement and expanded deportation has loomed large enough that it may well have reduced the number of migrants arriving at the border. Perhaps even more important, the Biden administration has understood that enforcement alone will never stop migrants who are determined to enter the United States. So the administration has combined enhanced enforcement with a second measure: the expansion of legal pathways for entry for migrants from Latin America and the Caribbean. By targeting the groups from Latin America and the Caribbean that are most likely to attempt a dangerous journey north with a smuggler, this policy aims to encourage the use of legal avenues for entry while discouraging illegal entries. For instance, the Biden administration has expanded seasonal employment visas, which have skyrocketed from 275,000 in 2020 to over 422,000 in 2022—an increase that has mostly benefited Mexicans and Central Americans. This expansion indicates both a growth in demand for agricultural seasonal workers and a policy decision to expand the number of nonagricultural seasonal visas. But the largest expansion of legal pathways is through a new set of sponsorship initiatives. This program allows U.S. citizens and residents to request entry for someone living abroad; these foreigners are then admitted under what is known as “humanitarian parole.” The use of humanitarian parole long predates today’s surge at the southern border; U.S. presidents have invoked such authority to expedite the entry of vulnerable populations around the world since the 1950s, including Cubans in the 1960s, Vietnamese in the 1970s, and Afghans in 2021. More recently, the Biden administration has expanded this process by allowing U.S. citizens and legal residents to sponsor first Ukrainians escaping Russia’s invasion, and then later Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans fleeing authoritarian governments or collapsing states. So far, over 140,000 Ukrainians and 160,000 Cubans, Haitians, Nicaraguans, and Venezuelans have been admitted to the United States through these sponsorship programs over the past two years, supported by religious and civic groups, family members, and average citizens. The Ukrainian program is uncapped, and up to 30,000 nationals from the four Latin American and Caribbean countries can be admitted each month as of this year. The Biden administration has also created a series of family sponsorship programs for citizens of Colombia, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras, and it has promised to revive halted programs for Cuba and Haiti. This process allows those who have been approved for a family-based visa to enter the United States before the visa has been issued, often speeding up the process by several years and deterring people from preemptively migrating illegally. The administration has also restarted the Special Cuban Migration Program, a lottery that offers 20,000 Cubans special entry to the United States each year and was created as a result of a 1994 agreement between the U.S. and Cuban governments to control migration from the island. All told, these steps represent a major expansion of legal pathways for admittance into the United States—one large enough that the administration hopes it encourages would-be migrants to seek lawful ways of entering the country. The third and final element of the strategy has been to relocate much of the vetting processes for humanitarian protection to the countries of origin, rather than having it take place almost entirely at the U.S. border through asylum applications. The United States has attempted small-scale iterations of this upstream vetting process before, mostly in Central America and Colombia. The current effort, however, represents a considerable expansion of refugee resettlement from the region, with the Biden administration hoping to admit around 5,000 refugees a month from the Americas through this process. Expanding the resettlement program will take time, as it will require the tools to identify potential refugees and the resources to resettle them. As part of this effort, the administration has announced that it is opening screening centers known as “safe mobility offices” in countries throughout Latin America to vet possible candidates for refugee resettlement, as well as those eligible for other legal pathways. For now, offices with a limited set of services are opening in Colombia, Costa Rica, and Guatemala. But the administration has announced plans to open more offices across the hemisphere and increase the kinds of vetting they can do. The Canadian and Spanish governments have also come on board, offering both refugee resettlement and employment-based visas through these U.S. offices. In attempting to move the vetting process abroad, the Biden administration has run into complications. Host countries have legitimate concerns that putting safe mobility offices in their territory could generate expectations about migration that cannot be met even with the expanded pathways. This is an especially critical concern in South America, where over five million displaced Venezuelans already live in other countries, and many countries have gone to great pains to integrate them into schools, labor markets, and local communities. As the overseas vetting program expands, the Biden administration may want to move discreetly and build up its screening capacity to effectively reach target groups before advertising the process to the wider population. The greatest threat to the new strategy may be the lawsuits the Biden administration faces from all sides. Civil rights groups oppose limits on asylum eligibility between ports of entry. They have invoked U.S. immigration law, which mandates access to asylum for all, including those who cannot safely wait for an appointment at a legal crossing point or apply for asylum in a transit country. A district court judge has already struck down the policy change, but an appeals court has allowed the rule to stand while it considers the case. Conversely, a group of Republican governors has filed a lawsuit targeting the sponsorship program, arguing that the decision to grant humanitarian parole to large groups of people on the basis of nationality violates the purpose of humanitarian parole, which was designed for case-by-case individual decisions. If the ruling against the asylum rule stands, it would hollow out the enforcement part of the strategy, whereas a ruling against the sponsorship program would eliminate one of the most important legal pathways that has emerged in recent months. Given that the Biden administration’s strategy depends on all three elements functioning together, a blow to any one could prove fatal to the strategy as a whole. It is possible, of course, that the administration will win both sets of cases or that these cases will wind their way through the courts for months or years without the policies being stopped, giving the strategy time to take hold. Recent Supreme Court decisions, including one in June that allowed the Biden administration to set priorities on enforcement and detention, seem to signal some deference to federal government discretion in setting immigration policy, and many cases take years to resolve fully. But even if the courts favor the Biden administration, the strategy could still fall apart under its own weight. The seasonal worker programs will take time to develop, as they depend on employer demand. The sponsorship programs, although much faster, need to be better targeted, as they are contingent on migrants having sponsors and passports, which are difficult requirements for some potential migrants to meet. The refugee resettlement system is still being scaled up throughout the hemisphere. And even for those admitted to the United States through legal pathways, it could still take years for immigration courts to reach a final decision, even as the Biden administration is working to implement a policy that would allow faster proceedings by allowing decisions to be made by asylum officers. And, of course, the enforcement capacities at the border are much weaker than they seem on paper. Already, more families are flocking to the border over the past month, anticipating that the U.S. government will be reluctant to detain them. Real challenges of resources, political will, and legal authority could deal deadly blows to the Biden administration’s new strategy. As temperatures cool and smugglers learn more about the gaps in new border policies, the number of migrants at the border could swell once again. The Biden administration’s strategy makes eminent sense in theory, but implementing it requires expanding current efforts in multiple directions at the same time in ways that have not been tried before. If the policy survives, evolves, and eventually succeeds, however, it could reshape migration patterns in the hemisphere for decades to come. It might not reduce the number of migrants arriving from Latin America and the Caribbean, but it would ensure that those who arrive do so through legal channels, reducing chaos at the border. The United States and the rest of the world have seen the devastation and tragedy of dysfunctional migration systems. A safe, fair, and orderly migration policy in the United States is starting to emerge; if it succeeds, it could serve as an example of what might be possible elsewhere in the world. © 2023 Council on Foreign Relations, publisher of Foreign Affairs. Distributed by Tribune Content Agency. Read the original article at Foreign Affairs.

Honduras på YouTube

Walking Streets of Honduras Capital City (extremely dangerous)

A day in Tegucigalpa, Capital City of Honduras. The first 1000 people to use the link will get a free trial of Skillshare Premium ...

Indigo Traveller på YouTube

Geography Now! Honduras

Seriously though can you imagine just walking down the street and suddenly "SLAP!" Fish to the face! Welcome to Honduras.

Geography Now på YouTube

Honduras, the Force to Live | Deadliest Journeys

In Honduras, it is better to arm yourself with courage to explore the semblance of roads that lead to the most remote provinces.

Best Documentary på YouTube

Honduras Travel: 14 BEST Paces to Visit in Honduras (TOP Things to Do)

How to find cheap flights and travel more: https://travelforalmostfree.com/ref=beforeyougo2 // Here are the best places to visit and ...

Before You Go på YouTube

Honduras Travel Video | WANDR (Roatan, Copan, Lake Yojoa, Macaws, and MORE...)

Can't say enough about the amazing people who came together to help us make our Honduras travel video. We hope this video ...

WANDR på YouTube

Honduras i poddar

NSTAAF International Factball: France v Honduras

France v Honduras: The QI Elves in association with www.visitengland.com bring you the fourth episode of this No Such Thing As A Fish Factball special - the only football podcast that has absolutely nothing to do with football. Today Dan Schreiber (@schreiberland), James Harkin (@eggshaped), Andrew Hunter Murray (@andrewhunterm) and Anna Ptaszynski (@qikipedia) pit France against Honduras to find out which is the most Quite Interesting country.

Honduras (060)

Honduras har et relativt dårlig rykte og går for å være et av verdens farligste land. Men er det egentlig det? Gundersen og Garfors tar turen for å finne svaret. Så er spørsmålet om de blir helt enige. Østers åpnes for øvrig på originalt vis her.  Episoden kan inneholde målrettet reklame, basert på din IP-adresse, enhet og posisjon. Se smartpod.no/personvern for informasjon og dine valg om deling av data.

Honduras med Benedicte Bull (099)

Det er sjelden mange hyggelige historier kommer ut av Honduras, et land som dessverre har blitt kjent for bander, drap og korrupsjon. Men landet har unektelig mye å by på med imponerende mayaruiner, fantastiske øyer og strender, trivelige byer og nasjonalparker. Professor og forfatter Benedicte Bull gir oss et dypdykk i det sentralamerikanske landet.  Episoden kan inneholde målrettet reklame, basert på din IP-adresse, enhet og posisjon. Se smartpod.no/personvern for informasjon og dine valg om deling av data.