From the opening notes of “Ó Abre Alas” or “O Canto da Cidade”, Brazilians know that it’s time to celebrate: Carnival is here. From samba school parades to blocos (roving street parties), music plays a major part in Brazil’s annual festival, which begins today and stretches until Lent on 18 February. From Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo to Salvador and many cities further afield, revelers will don elaborate costumes to dance, sing and party.
Originally brought to the country by the Portuguese in the 17th century, Carnival has since become distinctly Brazilian with the rise of Samba, a music genre created by Afro-Brazilian communities in the early 1900s. Samba isn’t the only music that will be blasted from speakers – frevo, funk and even electronica will generate sound waves across the next five days. Over the past few years, celebrations have become even more eclectic, with this year’s roster of events including a Bollywood party and a set by DJ Calvin Harris.
Regardless of the music, Carnival festival is the beating heart of Brazilian culture, not to mention that it is also a large source of stimulation to the country’s economy and tourism industry. More than 50 million people are estimated to have taken part in celebrations across the country in 2025 and this year’s event is expected to generate 12bn Brazilian reais (approximately €1.94bn) for the national economy. The music industry capitalises on the festive season to release new tracks made for dancing in the heat. New songs this year include one from disco diva Gretchen and another about being sexy on a jet ski – here are five notable songs we think are worth remembering. Turn your speakers up.
‘Carnaval’, Marina Sena feat. Psirico
The 29-year-old singer’s new EP is a pure celebration of summer and Carnival, and this funky, sultry track is certainly a highlight.
‘Marquinha De Fitinha’, Léo Santana
Carnival in Bahia wouldn’t be the same without Léo Santana, who just celebrated two decades in the spotlight.
‘Freak Le Boom Boom’, Gretchen
Gretchen is known for her disco tracks from the 1970s and 1980s, constant presence on Brazilian TV and starring in Katy Perry’s “Swish Swish” lyric video. As younger generations have discovered her music, some of her classic songs have been repackaged, including this gem.
‘Bembé’, Beija-Flor de Nilópolis
Every year, samba schools in Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo pick their Samba Enredos (the theme songs for their parades). This year, the traditional samba school Beija-Flor selected the theme of Bembé do Mercado – an Afro-Brazilian celebration rooted in the Candomblé religion.
‘Jetski’, Pedro Sampaio, MC Meno K, Melody
This year’s Carnival might belong to Brazilian singer and producer Pedro Sampaio, whose track “Jetski” captures the festival’s playful energy. Also a hit in Portugal, the song’s strong beats and rapped lines are layered with melodic vocals that would make anyone want to get up and dance.
Find these songs on Monocle’s Spotify playlist. And for more on the musical hits of Carnival 2026 tune in to this special episode on ‘The Global Countdown’ on Monocle Radio.
Over the past two decades, Latin American art fair Zona Maco has evolved from a regional showcase into a fixture on the global circuit. When it launched in 2004, it drew roughly 15,000 visitors. But at its 22nd edition last week the crowd swelled beyond 80,000, each person keen for a glimpse of presentations by more than 200 galleries from 26 countries. The fair today is a reflection of Mexico City’s transformation into a point of convergence, a place where regional voices have the floor in global conversations.
Zona Maco’s selection committee includes representatives from Mexico City, New York, Berlin and São Paulo, and this year’s programme was supported by major sponsors from HSBC to Starbucks and Mercedes-Benz – a roster unthinkable in its early years. But the fair’s growth is about more than flashy new logos. In the crucial first 24 hours, between 70 to 80 per cent of visitors were industry professionals: museum directors, curators, advisors and representatives roaming the aisles, business cards in hand.
It’s clear that collectors also want in on the region. In 2024, Latin America’s online art market generated just over $1bn (€843m) in revenue, accounting for 9.2 per cent of the global total. In November 2025, Frida Kahlo’s painting “El Sueño (La Cama)” fetched $54.7m (€46.1m) at a Sotheby’s auction, while Leonora Carrington’s “Les Distractions de Dagobert” sold for $28.5m (€24m) in 2024. At Zona Maco, more than half of the participating galleries hailed from Latin America, with Mexico representing the largest share. “Over the past five years, major international fairs have expanded their curatorial frameworks to foreground Latin American artists,” says the fair’s artistic director, Direlia Lazo. “Historically, the prices of [artwork by] Latin American artists were shaped more by regional socio-economic conditions rather than the significance of the work. In recent years, values have risen in a measured and sustainable way.”
For London-based Cadogan Gallery, Zona Maco has been a turning point. Since debuting at the fair, the gallery has expanded its roster with artists from or working in Latin America now accounting for roughly a quarter of its representation. “We’ve seen strong and growing demand, particularly at international fairs,” says director Freddie Burness. Smaller galleries have felt the shift too. At New York’s JO-HS, half of its artists are Latin American and roughly 75 per cent of recent sales have been of works by creatives from the region. “Early interest came primarily from Peruvian, Venezuelan and Mexican collectors,” says founder Elisabeth Johs. Today, she notes rising engagement from US and Chinese buyers, and widening institutional interest in Latin American creators from the likes of the San Diego Museum of Art and San Antonio Museum of Art. For these galleries and the artists they represent, Mexico City has shown itself to be more than a cursory stop on the art-fair circuit. In the crowded aisles, what feels tangible is not just a market trend but a cultural transformation.
Keen to read more about Mexico’s booming art market? Meet the entrepreneurial trailblazers revitalising Guadalajara’s art scene.
In Washington, one gag is growing tired. This week, Donald Trump celebrated the news that the US economy had surpassed expectations, with promising job growth last month. But among federal employees, jokes about how many of them it takes to change a light bulb – or run a country – are told relentlessly.
Just a year ago, Elon Musk’s now-dissolved Department of Government Efficiency was taking its hacksaw to the US federal workforce – but the Trump administration is finally realising that it takes a significant number of staff to govern a country. When Trump was inaugurated in January 2025, there were 2.4 million federal employees. In the space of a year, more than 317,000 of them were pushed out. Some retired but most took payouts and quit. Others were fired or found that the agencies that they worked for had simply disappeared.
The president assured voters that this culling was necessary to eliminate waste, streamline spending and improve performance. But a year later, it turns out that all of those lawyers, interns, analysts, project managers and accountants were useful after all – and agencies from the Department of Justice to air-traffic control are scrambling to hire new staff to replenish a depleted workforce.
The rehiring began not long after the firing. At the Department of Energy’s National Nuclear Safety Administration, which is tasked with keeping the US nuclear arsenal safe, about 350 people were let go, only for the government to realise that they were rather important and ask them to come back. The same thing happened at the Department of Agriculture, where 25 per cent of staff tackling avian-flu outbreaks were laid off and then rehired. The Internal Revenue Service invited back sacked staff when it became clear that it needed people to process tax returns. And it didn’t take long for some bright spark to realise that culling food-safety examiners could have stomach-churning consequences.
The Brookings Institution think tank, which has been tracking federal comings and goings, estimates that 25,747 federal employees have been fired and rehired. However, not everyone has gracefully accepted the invitation to return. Publicly maligning a group of people as “crooked” or “rogue” tends not to engender loyalty. There are certainly some federal workers dedicated to public service and willing to look beyond partisan politics for the greater good. But there are plenty of others giving a metaphorical middle finger to the White House and taking their talent elsewhere.
Now, many agencies are hiring again. Brookings found that in mid-November 73,000 jobs were posted on USAJobs, the federal government’s official employment site. Only 14,400 candidates, however, were found. The agencies struggling the most to find suitable candidates appear to be those most closely aligned with Trump’s divisive policy agenda. The New York Timesrecently reported that the US attorneys’ offices had shrunk by 14 per cent in a year, a record annual drop.
Many attorneys have chosen to quit rather than work on the nakedly political cases that the administration is sending to their desks. There’s also a hiring bonanza at Homeland Security, which is implementing Trump’s migration crackdown. Staff have already been seconded from other areas, including the FBI and the Drug Enforcement Agency. But it’s still not enough and the department is offering candidates a $50,000 (€42,140) signing bonus in a bid to hit its hiring targets.
So what does this mean for the coming years? There is plenty of doom-mongering: taking FBI agents off the surveillance of extremism could lead to lapses in intelligence gathering, the cuts to weather monitoring could prove deadly and backlogs in processing will mean delayed social-security payments. Time will tell but polls suggest that Americans are worried, with a recent Washington Post survey finding that 63 per cent of people disapprove of their president’s handling of the federal workforce. While most agreed with trimming a little flab off the civil service, paring it right down to the bone is foolish. The self-proclaimed greatest country on Earth cannot be run by a skeleton crew.
Charlotte McDonald-Gibson is a Washington-based journalist and regular Monocle contributor. Read her thoughts on Kristi Noem here.
For more than a decade, Yemen has been ravaged by two distinct conflicts. In the north, Iran-backed Houthi rebels have taken over the capital of Sana’a and driven out Yemen’s UN-backed government. Down south, an independence movement based in the city of Aden and backed by the UAE has sought to reinstate south Yemen as an independent nation, as it was from 1967 to 1990.
Yemen was reunited in 1990 after the fall of the Soviet Union but unity between the regions didn’t last long. The Houthis re-entered the picture as a separate force in 2014, capturing the capital and driving Yemen’s government to Aden. There, southern independence forces entered into their own uneasy partnership with the exiled government and, together with a UAE-Saudi coalition, have tried and failed to drive the Houthis out of northern Sana’a. A truce brokered by the UN in 2022 ended the fighting but did little to resolve the underlying dynamics, instead ushering in an unstable stalemate.
This past December, the stalemate came to an abrupt end, as the anti-Houthi coalition in the south went up in smoke. Across the span of a few days, southern independence forces moved to capture the nation’s southeastern regions, taking control of the resource-rich governorate of Hadhramaut along with a key trading port of interest to the UAE. But the sudden landgrab turned Riyadh against them: the Saudis pushed their erstwhile allies, the UAE, out of Yemen and forced members of the umbrella group for independence, known as the Southern Transitional Council (STC), to disband. The Saudis also pushed the STC out of the unity government in Aden, in favour of the UN-backed government that hopes to one day take back the rest of the country.
Amr al-Bidh, a senior official with the STC and special representative of its president for foreign affairs, tells Monocle that the forced dissolution of the STC “definitely leaves a huge scar” in the nation. Al-Bidh visited Midori House for a conversation with Monocle’s senior news editor, Chris Cermak, about the future of his movement and of southern Yemen. The following transcript has been edited for clarity and length.
On 3 December, forces affiliated with the STC launched Operation Promising Future, capturing Yemen’s eastern provinces of Hadhramaut, Al-Mahra and Shabwa. After years of little change to the status quo, what prompted the move?
The situation was at a stalemate and it wasn’t improving. In fact, it was getting worse security wise. For the STC, which was also part of the [southern] government at that time, we thought that we needed to move into these areas, especially into Wadi Hadhramaut. It’s a path for Houthi smuggling and lots of AQAP [al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula] were mobilising freely in that area, threatening other regions we controlled.
From the beginning of the southern movement 30 years ago, it was the STC’s objective to liberate the whole area. We had a war in 1994 against the north, who then occupied us, and there were remnants of their occupation in Wadi Hadhramaut. We had a few reasons for why we thought that now is the time to move: in order to make sure that the Houthis don’t get weapons; that we extend our operation against AQAP and also to liberate the south.
At the end of December, Saudi Arabia bombed the southern Yemeni port of Mukalla and accused the UAE of backing southern forces. Riyadh said that it considered the moves by the STC to be a threat to its national security and that a red line had been crossed. Did the STC miscalculate?
Definitely not. We don’t understand why it was a red line. We had been allies for 10 years. Why were we now a threat to them? The area [we captured] is not by the border to Saudi Arabia – it’s hundreds of miles away. The organisation by the border is the Houthis, not us. So we never thought that Saudi Arabia was going to bomb our soldiers and kill them. People say that we made a miscalculation but no – we didn’t expect them to bomb their allies. That has definitely left a huge scar in our nation, in the south, that our friends did this to us.
In addition to military strikes by Saudi Arabia, the UN-backed Yemeni government gave the UAE a 24-hour deadline on 30 December to leave Yemen. The UAE complied, leaving the STC to fend for itself. This must have made the south feel like it was a pawn in a wider geopolitical game. Was it?
We are allies and we’ve been conducting counterterrorism operations together. The government of Yemen and Saudi Arabia asked them to leave Yemen. Is the call legitimate? We doubt that. But the UAE said yes and left. We’ve been following our goals [for 31 years] and we have to take responsibility for our own actions because the only thing that matters is our people.
On 2 January, an STC delegation that was sent to Riyadh to negotiate a peace with Saudi Arabia wound up announcing the group’s departure from the Yemeni government. The move was not recognised by the STC’s remaining factions, who claimed that the dissolution was announced under duress from the Saudis and was therefore invalid. What was that moment like?
We were shocked. We had lost contact with the delegation in Riyadh – and then suddenly we saw them on TV. We didn’t know what was going on. It definitely wasn’t [a decision] based on our protocols, so it cannot be treated as the dissolution. But we also didn’t understand this move by Saudi Arabia. They asked for a dialogue and dialogue needs to be inclusive. Dissolving a major party in the south, which represents the aspiration of our people, immediately [triggered] a reaction on the streets of Yemen. People held massive rallies, reiterating that the STC is still [here].
Since then, every Friday in Aden has seen weekly demonstrations. In January, demonstrators were barred from the STC offices in Yemen’s second city – but that didn’t stop the protests.
They tried to stop our people from going to the headquarters of the STC; they banned us from going to our offices. That is the message [we must spread]: that our objectives are supported by our people, and that it’s our duty to make sure that these aspirations are achieved.
On 7 January, Aden was captured by Saudi-backed Yemeni government forces. The STC, or what’s left of it, now finds itself having to work with a UN-backed government that has been installed in its place with goals of one day reuniting Yemen. How will the STC work with a government that it doesn’t recognise?
We had been part of the government for a couple of years. There was an agreement to provide services and security, which we were a part of, until we could find a solution with the Houthis. That was the main objective of this period of war. But now, the government has said that they’re not accepting anyone from the STC returning from Riyadh to Aden. They are now responsible for providing services and security. We will definitely ask for dialogue, to see how we’re going to shape the next phase together.
It’s obvious from the messages we received that the idea of taking back Sana’a by force is no longer there. In which case, they should open a dialogue and reach a deal with the Houthis. They can’t stay in Aden for long – people will go out and protest.
What else does the government want? What is the best solution for Yemen as a whole? Is it a federal state? A two-state solution? What’s next? At the STC, we have our own solution, which is to establish a federal state in the south called South Arabia, but that has to be approved by our people through dialogue and a referendum. That’s our main message now.
Today, a measure of stability has returned to southern Yemen. While there might be rallies in support of independence, many Yemenis crave a situation without conflict. How is that squared with the southern independence movement’s goals?
The rallies on the streets do not contradict authorities on the ground seeking to establish stability. The rallies are an expression of what these people want. After that, they go back home and live a normal life. They protest in plazas that are known and safe. This is what is different now, compared to five years ago – and that’s what makes me admire this nation. Through the past 30 years, I haven’t seen any rallies in the south as large as the ones that we have had in the past three weeks. That’s an indication that, even if you fail militarily, you can still win the support of the people.
I understand that Yemen has been a headache for the region and international community for a long time. It was a headache for our own people. We have a long history of the elites deciding on the setup for the people and we have always failed to find the right model. This time, what we want is to give the people the choice, to decide what they want. Let them decide the unity of Yemen.
This interview originally aired on ‘The Briefing’ in two parts, on 5 February and 6 February.
Read more of our coverage on the region
- The Gulf’s best mediators are not immune to conflict – even with each other
- Neutrality is not passive: Dr Anwar Gargash explains the UAE’s diplomatic stance
- Missing in action: A rift emerges as the UAE skips Riyhad’s World Defense Show
The World Defense Show in Riyadh is doing exactly what it was designed to do: project confidence, capability and ambition. Fighter jets roar overhead and precision hardware gleams under the lights. The choreography is immaculate. The absences, however, are louder than the flybys: the UAE is mostly missing in action.
On the exhibitor list, about 30 Emirati companies are still technically present. On the exhibition floor, they are largely absent. The most telling detail is near the centre of the hall, where one of the show’s largest plots – originally allocated to Abu Dhabi defence heavyweight Edge – has been quietly repurposed as a coffee shop. In a sector where square metres signal status and proximity equals power, it is an exquisitely Gulf-style snub: courteous, bloodless and unmistakable.
It was rumoured a few days ago that UAE firms were planning to pull out, linking the decision to lingering strains between Abu Dhabi and Riyadh. And while the country hasn’t commented, it doesn’t actually need to. Defence exhibitions are not neutral marketplaces – they are extensions of statecraft. Turning up is alignment. Staying away is a message.
That message reflects a relationship that has changed from one of co-ordination to competition. Saudi Arabia and the UAE are no longer neatly aligned on the region’s future. The most visible rupture remains Yemen, where once-shared military objectives have drifted apart.
Business is feeling the chill. Some UAE-based companies report increasing difficulty securing Saudi visas – a seemingly mundane hurdle that carries major economic consequences. Trade between the two countries is worth close to $30bn (€25bn) a year and that flow depends on a shared understanding that politics will not interfere with commerce. An assumption being stress tested in public at this year’s World Defense Show.
Given that it is the most politicised of industries and the easiest place to send signals without issuing statements, defence is often where agreement is first put to the test. Empty stands, missing logos and “administrative issues” have become the tools of passive-aggressive international relations. No diplomats are recalled. The message is delivered through floor plans.
The bigger question hovering over the exhibition halls is whether the Gulf can afford to let these tensions drag on. Saudi Arabia and the UAE are competing to be the region’s indispensable hub for capital, industry and influence. Allow politics to seep too far into trade and both countries risk undermining the very model that they are selling to the world.
An apocryphal quote attributed to Ernest Hemingway goes something like, “There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing and mountain climbing; all the rest are merely games.” Papa would likely approve, then, of the newest Olympic sport making its debut next week at Milano Cortina: ski mountaineering.
The discipline consists of a ski race, something that the Winter Olympics already have plenty of. But “skimo”, as it’s known for short, demands more of its athletes. While alpine skiers approach supersonic speed – or at least that’s what 150 km/h looks like on the television – they are lent a mechanical ride up to the starting line. Cross-country skiers most certainly put in the aerobic work but they never carve a downhill turn, even during the 50km ski marathon.
Skimo does it all, just like in the old days before chairlifts and gondolas. Competitors clip into ultralight alpine touring skis, which have an adjustable binding that works like a cross-country ski on the ascent and an alpine ski on the descent. With a pair of mohair climbing skins strapped to the bottom of their skis for friction, skimo racers bolt uphill. At the steepest sections, they lash their skis to their packs and sprint on foot. At the top, there’s a touch of triathlon as competitors can make or break a race on their transition: a perfectly timed hop during which they rip off their climbing skins in a single motion, then transition into downhill mode where they navigate pistes on impossibly narrow skis.
In its most majestic form, ski mountaineering races traverse rugged terrain. The Swiss military organises the biennial Patrouille des Glaciers between Zermatt and Verbier, which winds 57.5km with 4,386 metres of ascent across glaciers and over mountain passes, with an average finishing time of around 12 hours. Teams must wear harnesses, equip themselves with ropes and don crampons to negotiate icy climbs.
The version of ski mountaineering that will beam from Bormio onto our screens on 19 February is an admittedly contrived incarnation by comparison. Lycra-clad racers will sprint on a short course looking faintly ridiculous as they essentially run with skis on. The mandatory skis-on-pack section (or “bootpack”) consists of running up artificial stairs to the top, from where they can let gravity take over. The whole thing will be over in three minutes.
But even though ski mountaineering has been bastardised into a made-for-TV spectacle, the sport taps into a noble heritage of mountain exploration. The mechanics and equipment used by skimo athletes during their Olympic races is fundamentally the same as what alpinists have been using to climb and ski the world’s great peaks for more than a century. As the Summer Olympics lean further into faddish urban sports – think Raygun breakdancing at Paris 2024 – skimo’s debut retorts that the essence of winter sports is a connection with the natural world.
While Milano shines, the spiritual heart of these games are Alpine villages such as Cortina d’Ampezzo, with its refurbished century-old bobsleigh track and the striking backdrop of the Dolomites and Livigno Alps. Whatever handwringing lingers about the infrastructure that the Italians didn’t complete in time for their fortnight in the spotlight, the skimo racers – and indeed all of the athletes competing outdoors – will still gulp down fresh mountain air in their final push to the finish line.
- Marco Balich on organising the perfect Milano Cortina Olympic opening ceremony
- Skating’s solo act: Donovan Carrillo is the only Latino on the ice at the 2026 Winter Olympics
- The Monocle guide to Milan
In the final days before Thailand’s general election on 8 February, I mistook a Democrat Party rally flag, depicting the earth goddess Phra Mae Thorani wringing a flood from her hair to drown demons, for a commissioned artwork. In a nation where the pantheon of deities is rivalled by the proliferation of political factions – some 57 parties have been vying for Phuket’s swing voters – the streets are a contest of signs. Here politics and art blur, each using symbols to fight for attention.
Nowhere is this clearer than at the Thailand Biennale, its site plan a network of 20 venues extending from Old Phuket Town through the mangroves of Saphan Hin and into the island’s rugged interior. Decommissioned industrial ruins, such as the Kathu Liquor Distillery and the Chao Fah Power Station, have been reactivated for the event, which began in November 2025 and runs until April. The Biennale directs attention away from postcard Phuket and toward its true identity: a working landscape shaped by tin and timber – long before the first sun lounger arrived.
Phuket today is a tourism juggernaut, projected to generate some 605bn baht (€16.3bn) in 2026. While HBO drama series The White Lotus amplifies a fantasy of lacquered leisure, the Thailand Biennale resists that veneer. Curator Marisa Phandharakrajadej describes the ambition as “building attention rather than attraction”. This is especially visible at the Pearl Theater – opened in 1971 by a tin-mining family at the height of Phuket’s adult-entertainment sector. Here art installations treat the nightlife economy not as peripheral spectacle but as infrastructure: a labour-intensive system that continues to organise the island’s after-dark life.
The event’s title, “Eternal” [Kalpa], is a Sanskrit term for an eon in Hindu and Buddhist cosmology. It lands neatly during this transformative chapter of Thai history, as the unprecedented triple-ballot election and referendum serve as a bellwether for constitutional legitimacy and democratic resilience in Southeast Asia. It also aligns with the long-awaited opening of Dib Bangkok, signalling a shift from Thailand’s event-driven cultural economy toward institutional endurance. While the Bhumjaithai Party’s stronger-than-expected victory will define national life over the coming years, the Thailand Biennale offers an alternative view – one that looks to the past to understand a culture measured not in news cycles but in kalpa.
thailandbiennale.org
Georgia’s prime minister, Irakli Kobakhidze, arrived at the World Governments Summit carrying more baggage than most. At home his government is facing sustained street protests and mounting criticism over a parliamentary election that international observers said was competitive but flawed, amid allegations of voter intimidation and uneven enforcement. Abroad, Georgia’s once-clear European trajectory has become muddied. Though granted EU candidate status in late 2023, the country’s accession process has since stalled, with Brussels raising concerns over democratic backsliding, judicial independence and legislation that critics say echoes Russia’s restrictive “foreign agents” laws.
In Dubai, Kobakhidze set out a markedly different picture. He presented Georgia as a pragmatic, peace-minded state navigating life next to a belligerent Russia – one that occupies roughly 20 per cent of Georgian territory – while remaining firmly committed to EU membership. He rejected claims of electoral malpractice, arguing that Georgia outperforms other candidate countries on corruption and democratic standards, and framed strained relations with Brussels as a failure of communication. What is clear from speaking to Monocle is that Georgia’s leadership understands its moment, which is caught between geopolitics, domestic dissent and an increasingly sceptical European audience.
Listen to the full conversation with Kobakhidze on The Globalist. The following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Prime minister, let’s start with the recent trilateral talks between Russia, Ukraine and the US. Are you optimistic about the outcome?
We are looking forward to the success of the negotiations because there is an ongoing war in our region, in Ukraine, and it affects the situation in Georgia. That’s why we are supportive of any attempts to find the solution for this conflict because peace is crucial for everybody. Peace is crucial for the region and for the Ukrainian people because they are suffering.
We spoke to a very senior diplomat yesterday who shared that the reason they could host these trilateral conversations is because the UAE hasn’t taken a stance in the conflict. Can you tell us a little more about Georgia’s stance and how the positioning evolved over time?
Georgia’s position is clear about this conflict. From the very beginning, we supported all the relevant decisions and resolutions advocating for Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity, and condemning Russia’s military aggression. This position has never changed. We are committed to the international law principles and we are always vocal about that.
We have our own problems. Twenty per cent of our territories are occupied by the Russian Federation. We understand very well what war means. That’s why peace is crucial – for the region and for development. There were conflicts in the South Caucasus region and Georgia was always playing a positive role in terms of supporting the peace around us. Our choice is to be pragmatic and this approach works.
We have had to face four different wars since the 1990s. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, there was the Civil War in the beginning of 1990s, [then there were] two wars in two regions of Georgia, [followed by] the Russian-Georgian war in 2008. We learned a lot from this history after the restoration of our independence and we understand that peace is the most important thing for ensuring the country’s development.
In Western media, there’s a tendency to cast things in black-and-white terms: pro-Russia or pro-Ukraine. Are you saying that there’s actually an advantage for Georgia to take a more nuanced position to continue talking with Moscow? Is there an opportunity to leverage that to deliver better outcomes for Ukraine but also, crucially, for Georgia?
In general, we want to have relations with everybody. With regard to Russia, we have had no diplomatic relations after the occupation of our two historic regions. [That is] a special case. We have our challenges with the EU. We had more challenges with the US under the previous administration but now the situation has changed. There are no tensions after the inauguration of the new US president. But we have special challenges with the EU that have no solid ground. We understand the reasons behind [our challenges with the EU] but we are committed to our goal of becoming a member.
Is that still the ambition then, to become a part of the EU, even though your relationship with Europe is fraught? How are you working to become part of the EU Commission?
We are patiently waiting for a change in attitudes and policies.
What would you say directly to the EU as a plea to join the commission?
The best [approach to] politics is to talk to each other. When one side chooses not to talk, it demonstrates weakness or negative goals behind the policies. We call on the European bureaucracy to start talking publicly and transparently about all of the issues. We are fully open for negotiations but they should be [conducted] in a transparent way so that the public can follow the discussions.
You must be frustrated by the fact that you still have this fraught relationship with Europe. You’re trying to get into the EU but it’s being blocked.
We are disappointed because if you look at all international rankings, Georgia is the best among all candidate countries. With regard to [our] level of corruption, we are doing better than all candidate countries and we are doing better than eight or nine EU member countries. It’s the same with the level of democracy, human rights, political pluralism and media pluralism. If you look, for example, at Georgia, Moldova and Ukraine, there is a huge difference [between them].
You mentioned the corruption rate in Georgia being considerably lower than some of your neighbouring countries but there has been scrutiny around your country’s recent elections. In particular, over voting and voting calculations. How do you respond to that? Have you been wholly transparent around the elections?
That is a good example showing that transparent talks are important, because we can talk about how [elections] have been held in Georgia. We introduced electronic counting, electronic registration and electronic procedures to the elections, so there is no reason to put the results under question.
Georgians went to the election precincts and voted through electronic machines; they got registered through machines. The commission members were just pressing the button and printing the checks reflecting the results. There was no technical possibility to manipulate anything in this election. We invited all the international observer organisations, including the CEC, the European Parliament, the peace delegation and all others. Nobody was able to provide any evidence – not systemic, not even essential – of manipulation. So that’s why we are saying [that we want] an open conversation about how the elections have been held in Georgia.
Read more from World Governments Summit
• Amid heightened geopolitical tensions, the World Governments Summit is a masterclass in soft power
• Neutrality is not passive: Dr Anwar Gargash explains the UAE’s diplomatic stance
President Trump’s acquisitive gaze has drifted from Greenland, at least for now. Denmark’s pipe-smoking foreign minister, Lars Løkke Rasmussen, seems to have Jedi mind-tricked the Americans into believing that their military efforts would be better rewarded elsewhere – Cuba perhaps. It is, however, seemingly only a matter of time before Greenland breaks free of rule from Copenhagen. Losing 98 per cent of its territory will be a blow for the Danes but I have an idea that might offer a little compensation.
On a recent visit to the Shetland Islands, I learned of a historical contract that, in theory at least, grants Denmark the right to buy the entire territory for just a few million dollars.
I went to Shetland to experience Up Helly Aa, one of several “fire festivals” that are held there in the winter months, with history that can be traced back to the mid-19th century. The young men who returned from the Napoleonic Wars had an excess of energy, pyromaniac tendencies and perhaps a touch of PTSD. To alleviate winter boredom, they began to set fire to barrels of tar and roll them around town.
The authorities eventually clamped down on the flaming barrel fun but realised that they would have to offer an alternative for the menfolk to let off steam – and thus the formalised fire festivals began.
Up Helly Aa is the original and the largest. It takes place on the last Tuesday of January in the capital, Lerwick. As darkness falls, more than 800 men in 40-plus teams, dressed in various wild and hilarious costumes, gather together in front of the town hall and light flaming torches. But that’s not all that they light. After parading through the town, their torches raining sparks down upon the thousands of spectators who line the streets, the men then set fire to a full-size replica Viking ship that they have spent many weeks lovingly constructing.
Up Helly Aa celebrates Viking culture because Shetland was once ruled by Scandinavian kings. It started with Norwegian Vikings but by the time that ownership of Shetland was transferred to King James III of Scotland in 1469, it was ruled by King Christian I of Denmark. He wanted his daughter, Margaret, to marry James but didn’t have enough cash to cover the dowry, so instead mortgaged Shetland for 8,000 Rhenish florins to the Scottish king, with a promise that he would buy it back once he raised the cash. Needless to say, the Danish king was never able to raise the money to recoup the islands but some have claimed that the dowry contract still stands. Admittedly, these claims have mainly been tongue-in-cheek and from Norwegians – but I don’t see why Denmark shouldn’t have at least as strong a claim. By my calculations, those 8,000 florins are roughly equivalent to €5m. A drop in the ocean compared with the money that they would save if Greenland goes solo.
What makes the deal all the more enticing is that the Danes and the Shetlanders have much in common – and not only a refreshing disregard for health and safety. High levels of social trust, for instance. When I asked for the key to the guest cottage that I was staying in, the lovely owner, Mary, looked at me as if to say, “Why would you need to lock the door?” Despite the lurid plotlines of Shetland, a successful BBC crime-drama series, there is very little crime on the islands. And Old Norse suffuses the local dialect and place names, so I am sure that the locals could adjust to Danish (certainly with greater ease than me).
Shetlanders are a direct, unpretentious, pragmatic bunch. They are used to terrible weather; they have oil like the Danes but also a space port, currently being built on Unst with a view to launching satellites in the next year or so.
Above all, they are proud of their Viking heritage: they feel a genuine connection to Scandinavia. There is certainly no love for the governments either in London or Edinburgh. While I was there, I conducted a little survey on behalf of Copenhagen, asking Shetlanders by whom they would prefer to be ruled. Every single one told me that they would prefer to be part of Scandinavia than either Britain or an independent Scotland. Copenhagen, it’s over to you.
Michael Booth is Monocle’s Copenhagen correspondent.
For more from Booth, read his missive on how if Trump’s threats have made anything clear, it’s that Danes don’t care about Greenland
When the men’s singles figure-skating competition begins this week at the Milano Ice Skating Arena, the competitors will take to the rink alone. But perhaps none more so than Donovan Carrillo, the only Latin American figure skater competing in this year’s Olympic Games. He is also the only Mexican skater to land a quadruple jump in competition.
At 26 years old, this is Carrillo’s second Olympics. In the 2022 Beijing Games, he became the first Mexican figure skater to qualify for the Olympics in three decades, placing 22nd in the men’s single skating programme. Carrillo’s journey to becoming an Olympic athlete has not been without challenges. With few Latin American skating icons to look up to, Carrillo said he found inspiration in Mexico’s divers and gymnasts. When his home rink in Guadalajara closed, he transferred to a small rink in a shopping mall in León, Mexico, before moving to Toronto after the Beijing Games for better access to training centres. “Hopefully, in the future, we’ll have access to more ice rinks that will allow us to grow and improve and be more competitive every year,” he told Monocle. “I feel very honoured to now be on the screen, trying to inspire my country.”
Carrillo spoke to Monocle’s deputy head of radio, Tom Webb. The transcript of the following interview has been edited for clarity and length.
Donovan, you’re the only Latin American figure skater in the men’s single skating event. Why is that?
It’s a big challenge to practice winter sports [in Latin America], figure skating in particular, because of the conditions you need to practise the sport. We have really good skaters and I feel the potential is there. Hopefully, in the future, we’ll have access to more ice rinks that will allow us to grow and improve and be more competitive every year.
Who were your inspirations if there weren’t any from your region?
I [looked to] different sports, such as diving and gymnastics, because I grew up practising both sports. I remember watching [the Olympics on] TV and seeing Germán Sánchez, Alejandra Orozco, Iván García and Rommel Pacheco. There are very famous divers from Mexico and I was inspired. I feel honoured to now be on the screen, trying to inspire [the people of] my country to accomplish their personal goals.
You were eventually drawn toward figure skating. What was it about figure skating that you fell in love with?
I picked figure skating because it was more me. While diving and gymnastics has the complexity of all the jumps, figure skating has the artistry, the performance, the musicality and the choreography, and that is something that allows me to express myself. It was the perfect match.
What is the relationship between art, culture and sport for you?
Art gives me a little extra. When you just focus on the technique, it’s a little more stressful. Art, in my case, is more about the feeling, the joy and the emotions. Sometimes you feel sad and you have to go to the rink and try to use that emotion and express it.
How does Mexican culture enter your performance?
I always try to show my pride of being Mexican with different things, such as music or costume. In the past, I have also skated to Latino and Mexican artists. I’m always proud to represent my country through culture and music.
The opening ceremony must have been an amazing moment. How did it feel?
My heart was beating so fast but I was just so excited to be the flag bearer this time. I moved the flag super fast, I was so hyped. It was something magical and something that only the Olympics could bring. Many people have asked me, ‘How did you feel?’ It’s just an Olympic emotion that is hard to describe. You have to experience it yourself to know what I’m talking about. But it’s one of those moments that will stay in my heart and my memories forever.
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