Adrian Mitchell, playwright, author and "alternative poet laureate," arrived last week at a place he called the New Jerusalem -- a vast campsite in Kent, southeast England, where nearly 5,000 young people were spending 12 days teaching themselves about the environment, democracy, peace, justice and how to change the world.
It was the Woodcraft Folk's five-yearly mega-gathering, organized by kids for kids, during which the Kent county showground near Maidstone was turned into a Global Village fit for democratic, or even anarchistic, angels. In one vast tent behind Mitchell, a youth parliament had been convening; in another, a former child soldier from Sierra Leone was leading a rap session; down the track, the Fairy Trade Cafe and the Politically Active Revolutionary Thinking Youth center drew custom from the 41 tented "villages" into which the teenagers and students from more than 50 countries had been billeted.
Mitchell's contribution to the event was a new play, The Fear Machine, designed for about 50 actors and a chorus of 2,000.
"They challenged me to deliver one for 5,000 people, and they listed 10 things that needed to be done to change the world," he told me. "I slept on it."
Much like the way the Woodcraft Folk themselves seem to operate, he came up with something on a grand scale. A runaway girl, a dog and a mystery tramp meet and decide to put out people's fears. So they build a monstrous "Fear Engine" that goes round the world extinguishing political and personal fears.
"It gets pretty heavy, but it has a very hopeful ending," Mitchell said.
The "Woodies," as they are known, range in age from eight to 24, and their monster camps mix the spirit of Glastonbury, the handwringing and concerns of the UN, and the passion of the playground. Thirty years ago, this youth movement, set up in 1925 as an alternative to the Scouts, was mostly strong in northern England, but these days their educational methods of encouraging youths to explore for themselves morality and world affairs has become international. The numbers of teenagers attracted to their gatherings is said to be rocketing.
The reason, said people at the camp, was the deteriorating wider political and environmental landscape, and concern for global issues.
"We too want our voices to be heard," said student Zoe Waterman. "Teenagers want to change things and to contribute. It's a lot to do with the global political dynamic. The Iraq war woke up so many people."
This year, the Woodies' camp cost nearly ?1 million (US$ 1.8 million) and the UK's Department for International Development contributed ?150,000. The British were joined by 300 Germans, a large contingent from Latin America, and others from political hotspots such as Bhutan, Western Sahara, South Africa, Palestine and Kurdistan. The collective theme was the UN's eight millennium development goals, around which they organized workshops and high-quality informed debates.
"Talking directly to political refugees, hearing stories from Africa and the Middle East, and finding out what is going on in Brazil or Venezuela makes you see the world differently," said Robert Jones, 15. "I just did not imagine anything so interesting."
But, this being the Woodies, they added extra UN goals, which they decided that the world leaders had missed out. So beyond exploring ways to eradicate world poverty, end debt, provide water and sanitation and make poverty history, they tried to instil "peace" and to demand fair trade and cooperation.
If that sounds PC and dull to adults, the Kent campers said it was essential learning for future citizenship.
"It's about looking forward, and saying what we have is not working," said Lloyd Russell-Moyle, a student at Bradford University's Department of Peace Studies.
Along with the Scottish sustainable energy caravan, where people could get their mobiles charged and hot water via a photovoltaic system, one of the most popular venues was the court set up in the self-styled Democracy Center. There, every day, trials were held of fictional people and companies, with fierce defenses and prosecutions being made before a judge and jury. In one, a newspaper editor was accused of publishing a homophobic article, and in another an Indian drug company was accused of illegally making HIV/AIDS drugs.
"It was very heated indeed," said the [elected] judge, Ruth Yates, who plans to be a doctor. "We tried the editor several times with different juries, but he was always found guilty. I could not imprison him, so I fired him."
Between the games, the role-playing, the debates and the theater of 5,000 kids trying to run their own world, there was plenty of reality. A gale shredded some of the tents; the truck meant to empty the lavatories did not turn up; the chess set used to play "democratic" chess went missing; and there were very long lines in the girls' showers. Moreover, two Scandinavian campers had carried out a survey of 500 people and estimated that 30 percent of people at the camp smoked.
"It is much more than we expected," said one in the daily newspaper, Global Voice.
Wafa Othman, of Ramallah, in Palestine, said: "It is very beautiful here. It feels like the world is small. People ask us what is life like for us. So I tell them. But they do not really understand how bad it is. Some think we are from Pakistan. Not everyone knows where Palestine is. I hope we can tell them more."
The government and local industries breathed a sigh of relief after Shin Kong Life Insurance Co last week said it would relinquish surface rights for two plots in Taipei’s Beitou District (北投) to Nvidia Corp. The US chip-design giant’s plan to expand its local presence will be crucial for Taiwan to safeguard its core role in the global artificial intelligence (AI) ecosystem and to advance the nation’s AI development. The land in dispute is owned by the Taipei City Government, which in 2021 sold the rights to develop and use the two plots of land, codenamed T17 and T18, to the
US President Donald Trump has announced his eagerness to meet North Korean leader Kim Jong-un while in South Korea for the APEC summit. That implies a possible revival of US-North Korea talks, frozen since 2019. While some would dismiss such a move as appeasement, renewed US engagement with North Korea could benefit Taiwan’s security interests. The long-standing stalemate between Washington and Pyongyang has allowed Beijing to entrench its dominance in the region, creating a myth that only China can “manage” Kim’s rogue nation. That dynamic has allowed Beijing to present itself as an indispensable power broker: extracting concessions from Washington, Seoul
Taiwan’s labor force participation rate among people aged 65 or older was only 9.9 percent for 2023 — far lower than in other advanced countries, Ministry of Labor data showed. The rate is 38.3 percent in South Korea, 25.7 percent in Japan and 31.5 percent in Singapore. On the surface, it might look good that more older adults in Taiwan can retire, but in reality, it reflects policies that make it difficult for elderly people to participate in the labor market. Most workplaces lack age-friendly environments, and few offer retraining programs or flexible job arrangements for employees older than 55. As
Donald Trump’s return to the White House has offered Taiwan a paradoxical mix of reassurance and risk. Trump’s visceral hostility toward China could reinforce deterrence in the Taiwan Strait. Yet his disdain for alliances and penchant for transactional bargaining threaten to erode what Taiwan needs most: a reliable US commitment. Taiwan’s security depends less on US power than on US reliability, but Trump is undermining the latter. Deterrence without credibility is a hollow shield. Trump’s China policy in his second term has oscillated wildly between confrontation and conciliation. One day, he threatens Beijing with “massive” tariffs and calls China America’s “greatest geopolitical