《英国卫报》(The Guardian)属英国较为激进的报纸,但质量极高。
此文不是社评,作者John Glaser
也属于激进人士,愤青,自然在美国不是主流。不过话说的中肯,无所谓主流不主流。这是他在《英国卫报》上的专栏:
The problem isn’t China’s rise, but rather America’s insistence on maintaining military and economic dominance right in China’s backyard不代表美国主流,如同奥巴马三番五次强调,“我们美国人就是第一”,更难以被美国媒体大众和精英政要理解。
此文被广泛引用。《华尔街日报》网文Washington Playing ‘Whack-a-Mole’ in South China Sea, Says Ex-U.S. Official
此文提到的是布莱尔Dennis C. Blair,奥巴马的前任国家情报局主任(Director of National Intelligence),因与奥巴马意见相左而(被迫)辞职。之前布莱尔是美国太平洋战区总司令,也是高层内人。布莱尔反对和中国冲突。
中国在关键技术还是很薄弱,许多关键
中国制造2025”顶级领导机构即将组建
2015.06.04
中国工程院院士倪光南:发展中国自主操作系统应倾举国之力
近期,网上一则非洲最流行的手机来自中国的消息,引发网友热议。虽则如此,中国工程院院士倪光南还是表达了担忧,国产手机做的非常出色,但有一个巨大的软肋,那就是缺乏一个自主可控的移动操作系统。昨晚在出席国产化操作系统及其产业在国防科技领域的应用论坛时,他还强调,发展中国自主操作系统应倾举国之力,发扬两弹一星和载人航天精神。
对于国产手机的持续火爆,倪光南认为,虽然国产手机做的非常出色,但有一个巨大的软肋,那就是缺乏一个自主可控的移动操作系统,同时他还解释,智能终端操作系统具有高度的垄断性,而目前这块被谷歌、微软和苹果三家垄断。
对于中国自主操作系统,倪光南表示,要解决技术受制于人的问题,应着眼国家安全和长远发展,召集有关部门和单位积极制定信息核心技术设备的战略规划。目前国内从事操作系统开发的有十几家企业,各自为战,不能形成合力;对知识产权风险未作充分评估。
中国工程院院士倪光南
面对如此状况,倪光南强调,发展中国自主操作系统应倾举国之力,应当发扬两弹一星和载人航天精神。加大自主创新力度,发挥我国能集中力量办大事的优势,倾举国之力实现智能终端自主操作系统从无到有的突破。
此外,倪光南还认为很多企业在安卓上做定制,既是低水平重复,又做不到自主可控。中国智能终端操作系统产业联盟正是在这种背景下成立的。联盟接受中央网络安全和信息化领导小组办公室与工业和信息化部的指导,目前已有以中国电科集团为首、包括“产学研用”各界的百余个成员单位,通过整合资源,协同创新,积极推进包括移动操作系统和桌面操作系统在内的中国智能终端操作系统的发展。
倪光南最后还强调,操作系统是信息领域生态系统的核心,操作系统提供者可以轻易地获取用户的许多敏感信息。在大数据时代,数以亿计的用户信息很容易被分析处理,无论是个人层面还是国家层面,可以说没有任何秘密可言。
联邦调查局反恐记
有线电视(CNN)的报道:
Authorities: Three men attempted to join ISIS, had ambitious plans
法庭记录
The Sting
How the FBI Created a Terrorist
By Trevor Aaronson 03/16/2015
IN THE VIDEO, Sami Osmakac is tall and gaunt, with jutting cheekbones and a scraggly beard. He sits cross-legged on the maroon carpet of the hotel room, wearing white cotton socks and pants that rise up his legs to reveal his thin, pale ankles. An AK-47 leans against the closet door behind him. What appears to be a suicide vest is strapped to his body. In his right hand is a pistol.
“Recording,” says an unseen man behind the camera.
“This video is to all the Muslim youth and to all the Muslims worldwide,” Osmakac says, looking straight into the lens. “This is a call to the truth. It is the call to help and aid in the party of Allah … and pay him back for every sister that has been raped and every brother that has been tortured and raped.”
osmakac-martyrdom
Osmakac in his “martyrdom video.” (YouTube)
The recording goes on for about eight minutes. Osmakac says he’ll avenge the deaths of Muslims in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan and elsewhere. He refers to Americans as kuffar, an Arabic term for nonbelievers. “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” he says. “Woman for a woman, child for a child.”
Osmakac was 25 years old on January 7, 2012, when he filmed what the FBI and the U.S. Department of Justice would later call a “martyrdom video.” He was also broke and struggling with mental illness.
After recording this video in a rundown Days Inn in Tampa, Florida, Osmakac prepared to deliver what he thought was a car bomb to a popular Irish bar. According to the government, Osmakac was a dangerous, lone-wolf terrorist who would have bombed the Tampa bar, then headed to a local casino where he would have taken hostages, before finally detonating his suicide vest once police arrived.
But if Osmakac was a terrorist, he was only one in his troubled mind and in the minds of ambitious federal agents. The government could not provide any evidence that he had connections to international terrorists. He didn’t have his own weapons. He didn’t even have enough money to replace the dead battery in his beat-up, green 1994 Honda Accord.
Osmakac was the target of an elaborately orchestrated FBI sting that involved a paid informant, as well as FBI agents and support staff working on the setup for more than three months. The FBI provided all of the weapons seen in Osmakac’s martyrdom video. The bureau also gave Osmakac the car bomb he allegedly planned to detonate, and even money for a taxi so he could get to where the FBI needed him to go. Osmakac was a deeply disturbed young man, according to several of the psychiatrists and psychologists who examined him before trial. He became a “terrorist” only after the FBI provided the means, opportunity and final prodding necessary to make him one.
Since the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the FBI has arrested dozens of young men like Osmakac in controversial counterterrorism stings. One recent case involved a rudderless 20-year-old in Cincinnati, Ohio, named Christopher Cornell, who conspired with an FBI informant — seeking “favorable treatment” for his own “criminal exposure” — in a harebrained plot to build pipe bombs and attack Capitol Hill. And just last month, on February 25, the FBI arrested and charged two Brooklyn men for plotting, with the aid of a paid informant, to travel to Syria and join the Islamic State. The likelihood that the men would have stepped foot in Syria of their own accord seems low; only after they met the informant, who helped with travel applications and other hurdles, did their planning take shape.
Informant-led sting operations are central to the FBI’s counterterrorism program. Of 08 defendants prosecuted in federal terrorism-related cases in the decade after 9/11, 243 were involved with an FBI informant, while 158 were the targets of sting operations. Of those cases, an informant or FBI undercover operative led 49 defendants in their terrorism plots, similar to the way Osmakac was led in his.
In these cases, the FBI says paid informants and undercover agents are foiling attacks before they occur. But the evidence suggests — and a recent Human Rights Watch report on the subject illustrates — that the FBI isn’t always nabbing would-be terrorists so much as setting up mentally ill or economically desperate people to commit crimes they could never have accomplished on their own.
At least in Osmakac’s case, FBI agents seem to agree with that criticism, though they never intended for that admission to become public. In the Osmakac sting, the undercover FBI agent went by the pseudonym “Amir Jones.” He’s the guy behind the camera in Osmakac’s martyrdom video. Amir, posing as a dealer who could provide weapons, wore a hidden recording device throughout the sting.
The device picked up conversations, including, apparently, back at the FBI’s Tampa Field Office, a gated compound beneath the flight path of Tampa International Airport, among agents and employees who assumed their words were private and protected. These unintentional recordings offer an exclusive look inside an FBI counterterrorism sting, and suggest that, even in the eyes of the FBI agents involved, these sting targets aren’t always the threatening figures they are made out to be.
ON JANUARY 7, 2012, after the martyrdom video was recorded, Amir and others poked fun at Osmakac and the little movie the FBI had helped him produce.
“When he was putting stuff on, he acted like he was nervous,” one of the speakers tells Amir. “He kept backing away …”
“Yeah,” Amir agrees.
“He looked nervous on the camera,” someone else adds.
“Yeah, he got excited. I think he got excited when he saw the stuff,” Amir says, referring to the weapons that were laid out on the hotel bed.
“Oh, yeah, you could tell,” yet another person chimes in. “He was all like, like a, like a six-year-old in a toy store.”
In other recorded conservations, Richard Worms, the FBI squad supervisor, describes Osmakac as a “retarded fool” who doesn’t have “a pot to piss in.” The agents talk about the prosecutors’ eagerness for a “Hollywood ending” for their sting. They refer to Osmakac’s targets as “wishy-washy,” and his terrorist ambitions as a “pipe-dream scenario.” The transcripts show FBI agents struggled to put $500 in Osmakac’s hands so he could make a down payment on the weapons — something the Justice Department insisted on to demonstrate Osmakac’s capacity for and commitment to terrorism.
“The money represents he’s willing to do it, because if we can’t show him killing, we can show him giving money,” FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed explains in one conversation.
These transcripts were never supposed to be revealed in their entirety. The government argued that their release could harm the U.S. government by revealing “law enforcement investigative strategy and methods.” U.S. Magistrate Judge Anthony E. Porcelli not only sealed the transcripts, but also placed them under a protective order.
The files, provided by a confidential source to The Intercept in partnership with the Investigative Fund, provide a rare behind-the-scenes account of an FBI counterterrorism sting, revealing how federal agents leveraged their relationship with a paid informant and plotted for months to turn the hapless Sami Osmakac into a terrorist. Neither the FBI Tampa Field Office nor FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C. responded to requests from The Intercept for comment on the Osmakac case or the remarks made by FBI agents and employees about the sting.
Osmakac as a boy. (Photo courtesy of the Osmakac family)
SAMI OSMAKAC WAS 13 years old when he came to the United States with his family. Fleeing violence in Kosovo in 1992, they had first traveled to Germany, where they stayed until 2000, when they were granted entrance to the U.S. He was the youngest of eight children, and he and his older brother Avni struggled at first to adapt to a new land, a new language and a new culture.
“We came to Tampa, and at first we lived in this really bad neighborhood,” Avni recalls, wearing blue jeans, spotless white Nikes and a white New York Yankees Starter cap. “It was tough, but as we learned the language, things got easier. We adapted.”
The Osmakac family opened a popular bakery in St. Petersburg, across the bay from Tampa. They were Muslim, but they rarely attended the mosque. They didn’t usually fast during Ramadan, and Sami’s sisters did not cover their hair. Growing up, Sami wasn’t particularly drawn to Islam either, according to his family. He suffered the concerns many young men in the United States do, like getting a job and saving up for a car.
In July 2009, one of Sami’s older brothers had returned to Kosovo to get married, and just before Sami was to fly to the Balkans with his brother Avni for the wedding, he had a terrible dream. “An angel grabbed me by the face and pushed me into the hellfire,” he would later tell a psychologist. At the wedding, Avni took a photograph of Sami; he’s clean-shaven and wearing a pressed white suit. He looks happy. On the flight back from the wedding, during the final leg of the journey to Tampa, the plane Sami and his brother were on hit turbulence, losing altitude quickly. “I thought we were going to crash,” Avni remembers. Sami looked horrified.
Sami-osmakac
Osmakac in 2009. (Photo courtesy of Osmakac family)
That’s when something changed in him, according to his family and mental health expertshired by both the government and the defense. Osmakac began to isolate himself from his siblings and attend the mosque frequently. He spoke of dreams about killing himself, and chastised family members for being more concerned about this life than what comes after.
In December 2009, Osmakac met a red-bearded Muslim named Russell Dennison at a local mosque. Dennison, who was American-born, was described by Osmakac as a “revert.” Muslims believe that all people are born with an understanding of the unity of Allah, so when a non-Muslim embraces Islam, some Muslims refer to this as reversion rather than conversion. Dennison went by the chosen name Abdullah; he says in a YouTube video that after being introduced to Islam, his faith grew stronger during a prison term in Pennsylvania. Osmakac’s dress changed after he met Dennison. Whereas he had once saved his money to buy nice shoes and Starter caps, he suddenly began to dress like Dennison, according to family members — cutting his pants high at the ankle, buying cheap plastic sandals and sometimes wearing a keffiyeh on his head. He refused to cut his beard, which he struggled to grow with any thickness, and he wouldn’t wear deodorant that contained alcohol.
It wasn’t just his physical appearance that was changing; by the beginning of 2010, his family also believed he was deteriorating mentally. He’d become paranoid and delusional. His skin was pale. He was sleeping on the floor of his bedroom and complained about nightmares in which he burned in hell. He stopped working at the family bakery because they served pork products. Near the end of the year, his family repeatedly asked him to see a doctor. He rebuffed them, saying that the doctors would want to kill him. (Osmakac later told a psychiatrist he in fact “was scared to go to a mental home.”
dennison
Russell Dennison (YouTube)
Meanwhile, Osmakac’s friendship intensified with the red-bearded revert. Dennison, whose videos on YouTube are posted under the username “Chekdamize7,” frequently preached about Islam and ranted about the corruption of nonbelievers. Osmakac’s family believed that Dennison encouraged his extreme views, often recruiting him to make videos. Among their efforts was a two-part series in which they argued combatively about religion with Christians they confronted on the sidewalk.
Over the next year, Osmakac, who was without steady employment, established a reputation as a firebrand in the local Muslim community. He was kicked out of two mosques, and lashed out at local Muslim leaders in a YouTube video, calling them kuffar and infidels. In March 2011, Osmakac made his way to Turkey, in the hopes of traveling by land to Saudi Arabia, according to his brother. He’d been told that holy water from Mecca was a cure-all, Avni says — that if he drank it, the nightmares would cease. But Osmakac never got much farther than Istanbul, after encountering multiple transportation mishaps, and getting turned away at the Syrian border by officials who refused to let him cross without a visa. He quickly ran out of money, lost his will and called home for help. His family in Tampa helped purchase a plane ticket for him to return to Florida.
Osmakac would later tell several mental health professionals that he was in fact more interested in traveling to Afghanistan or Iraq to fight American troops, and perhaps even find a bride there. “If I got to Afghanistan or Iraq, someone would marry me to their daughter,” he mentioned to one psychologist. Osmakac got back in touch with Dennison in Florida, and would talk often of returning to a Muslim land so he could marry.
Osmakac’s altercation with Keffer, April 16, 2011. (YouTube)
ON APRIL 16, 2011, Osmakac was outside of a Lady Gaga concert in Tampa. Larry Keffer, a Christian street preacher with short-cropped brown hair and a thick, white beard, was outside the concert as well. Keffer was wearing a fishing hat, a green camouflage shirt and blue pants.
“Sin is a slippery slope,” Keffer yelled through a megaphone to the Lady Gaga fans as someone else recorded the demonstration.
Most of the crowd ignored Keffer. A few concertgoers taunted him. He taunted them back. A police officer directing traffic refused to acknowledge the demonstration, while Keffer ranted about Lady Gaga and the devil. Osmakac finally confronted Keffer, pointing his finger in the preacher’s face.
“You infidel, I know the Bible better than you,” Osmakac told the preacher.
“What’s your message?” Keffer replied, talking into the megaphone.
“My message is, if y’all don’t accept Islam, y’all going to hell,” Osmakac said.
The men continued to provoke each other as people milled into the concert venue.
“Go have yourself a bacon sandwich,” Keffer told Osmakac.
“You infidel,” Osmakac said. “You infidel.”
As the argument escalated, Osmakac charged one of Keffer’s fellow demonstrators and head-butted him, bloodying the man’s mouth and breaking a dental cap. He then charged Keffer. Each wrapped his arms around the other, turning and twisting, until they broke free. The police officer managing traffic charged Osmakac with battery, giving him notice to appear in court. Osmakac was later arrested after failing to show up, Avni says, and his family had to bail him out; in just a few months’ time, Osmakac’s red-bearded friend would lead him straight into an FBI trap.
Screen-Shot-2015-03-02-at-3.51.58-PM
SAMI OSMAKAC AND Russell Dennison lived in Pinellas County, across the bay from Tampa. In September 2011, Dennison told Osmakac he knew a guy who ran a Middle Eastern market in Tampa. They should go see him, Dennison suggested. To this day, Osmakac doesn’t know why Dennison suggested this, or why he agreed to accompany him on the 45-minute drive to the store, called Java Village, near the Busch Gardens theme park.
When they arrived, Dennison introduced Osmakac to the owner, Abdul Raouf Dabus, a Palestinian. Dabus had flyers in his store promoting democracy, and he and Osmakac argued about the subject, with Osmakac contending that democracy and Islam were incompatible.
“Democracy makes the forbidden legal and the legal forbidden, and that’s greater infidelity,” Osmakac would tell Dabus. “Whoever enforces it is an infidel, is a Satan. Hamas is Satan. Muslim Brotherhood is Satan … If you don’t accept that God is the only legislator, then you become a polytheist, and that’s why I’m telling you.”
Osmakac didn’t know that Dabus would become an FBI informant. His work for the government has until now been secret.
According to the government’s version of events, Osmakac asked Dabus if he had Al Qaeda flags, or black banners. Osmakac disputes this, saying he never asked anyone for Al Qaeda flags.
Whatever the truth, the sting had just begun.
A psychologist appointed by the court later diagnosed Osmakac with schizoaffective disorder.
“He asked me if he can work a couple of hours, working and other stuff,” Dabus said in a phone interview from Gaza, where he now lives. “But it wasn’t really like a job. So basically, he was helping whenever he comes. And he got paid.” Dabus acknowledged he was paying Osmakac as the FBI was paying him.
In Tampa’s Muslim community, Dabus is well known. A former University of Mississippi math professor, Dabus was an associate of Sami Al-Arian, the University of South Florida professor who was indicted for allegedly providing material support to the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, in a case prosecutors argued proved successful intelligence-gathering under the Patriot Act. Dabus had worked at the Islamic Academy of Florida, an elementary and secondary private school for Muslims that Al-Arian had helped to found in Temple Terrace, a suburb of Tampa.
Dabus was among the witnesses in the Al-Arian trial, and his testimony was damaging to the government’s case. He testified that he had known Al-Arian only to raise money for charitable purposes, not for violence. During cross-examination, Dabus told the defense that he feared that Al-Arian’s trial meant Palestinians in the United States could no longer speak openly about the occupied territories. “There is no longer any security for the dog that barks in this country,” Dabus said.
He also questioned whether Al-Arian’s indictment suggested Muslims had become a new target for the U.S. government. “Our kids, will they have a future here?” he asked. “I don’t know.”
While Al-Arian would continue to battle federal prosecutors, living under house arrest in Virginia until finally agreeing to deportation to Turkey this year, Dabus remained in Tampa, active in the local religious and business community. But he acquired a reputation during this time for running up debts. From 2005 to 2012, he faced foreclosure actions on his home and businesses, as well as breach-of-contract and small-claims cases. In fact, when Dabus met Osmakac, he was in rough financial straits, records show. In July 2011, the bank holding the mortgage on his business’s building was granted approval to sell the property through foreclosure; Dabus owed $779,447.
It’s unclear why Dabus became an FBI informant, or for how long he worked with the government. He says he was doing his civic duty in reporting Osmakac and the young man’s interest in acquiring weapons, and had not previously worked with the FBI, though an FBI affidavit in the Osmakac case described Dabus as having “provided reliable information in the past.” Money is a common motivator for FBI counterterrorism informants, who can earn $100,000 or more on a single case. Dabus estimates the FBI paid him $20,000 for his role in the Osmakac sting, though insists money did not motivate him.
On November 30, 2011, after Osmakac had begun working for Dabus, the two drove around the Tampa area together as Dabus secretly recorded their conversation for the FBI. Osmakac asked if Dabus could help him obtain guns and an explosive belt. However, transcripts suggest he was also having trouble separating reality from fantasy. “In the dream, I was shown that everywhere you go, everything you do, hush your mouth,” Osmakac says. “Don’t say nothing. So, yes, the dream is real. Allah showed me that dream for a reason. And he’s also protected me for a reason.”
A psychologist appointed by the court later diagnosed Osmakac with schizoaffective disorder.
Osmakac and undercover FBI agent “Amir Jones.” (YouTube)
ABOUT THREE WEEKS after this conversation, on instructions from the FBI, Dabus introduced Osmakac to “Amir Jones,” an undercover agent. He might be able to help Osmakac obtain weapons, Dabus told him.
“What are you looking for, so that I know if it’s something I can get you or not?” Amir asks Osmakac.
“I’m looking for, even if … one AK, at least,” Osmakac says.
“OK.”
“And maybe a couple of Uzi, ’cause they’re better to hide.”
“OK. OK.”
“If you can get the long extension like for the AK and the Uzi, the long magazines—”
“They’re called banana magazine,” Amir says. “OK.”
“And … couple of grenades, 10 grenades minimum, if you can,” Osmakac says.
“Now, and that’s it?” Amir asks.
“And a [explosive] belt.”
For all Osmakac’s talk, the FBI’s undercover videos suggest he was less a hardened terrorist and more a comic book villain. While driving around Tampa with Amir, a hidden FBI camera near the dashboard, Osmakac described a plot to bomb simultaneously the several large bridges that span Tampa Bay.
“That’s five bridges, man,” Osmakac says. “All you need is five more people …. This would crush everything, man. They would have no more food coming in. Nobody would have work. These people would commit suicide!”
Amir Jones, behind the wheel of the car, offered a hearty laugh.
BACK AMONG FEDERAL law enforcement agents, according to the secret transcripts of their private conversations, there were plenty of reasons to joke at Osmakac’s expense. FBI employees talked about how Osmakac didn’t have any money, how he thought the U.S. spy satellites were watching him, and how he had no concept of what weapons cost on the black market.
The source of their amusement was also their primary source of concern. Osmakac was, in the FBI’s own words, “a retarded fool” who didn’t have any capacity to plan and execute an attack on his own. That was a challenge for the FBI.
“Once [the source] gives it to him, it’s his money, whether we orchestrated it or not.”
– Special Agent Taylor Reed
“Part of the problem is they want to catch him in the act,” FBI Special Agent Steve Dixon says, referring to federal prosecutors. “The attorneys do and stuff, but the problem is you can’t show up at a nightclub with an AK-47, in the middle of a nightclub, and pretend to start shooting people, or I mean people —”
“Right,” another speaker interrupts.
“— would get killed, just a stampede, just to get away from him,” Dixon finishes.
In constructing the sting, FBI agents were in communication with prosecutors at the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Middle District of Florida, the transcripts show. The prosecutors needed the FBI to show Osmakac giving Amir Jones money for the weapons. Over several conversations, the FBI agents struggled to create a situation that would allow the penniless Osmakac to hand cash to the undercover agent.
“How do we come up with enough money for them to pay for everything?” asks FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed in one recording.
“Right now, we have money issues,” Amir admits in a separate conversation.
Their advantage was that Dabus, the informant, had given Osmakac a job. If they could get Dabus to pay Osmakac, and then make sure Osmakac used his paycheck to make a payment toward the weapons, the agents could satisfy the Justice Department. “Once he gives it to him, it’s his money, whether we orchestrated it or not,” Reed says.
In conversations about this plan, FBI agents refer to Dabus as the “source,” short for confidential human source. “Jake” is FBI Special Agent Jacob Collins, who transcripts indicate worked closely with Dabus.
“The source has to tell him, ‘Hey, listen! You are gonna have to give [Amir] the three hundred bucks,’” says Richard Worms, the squad supervisor. “And that’s something Jake has the source tell him. ‘And I’ll take care of the rest … and here’s three hundred of my money for you.’ Is that something you accept?”
“That’s a feasible scenario,” Amir Jones answers.
“That’s what you’re going to do,” Worms says. “That way, the source has to be coached what to do.”
In order to avoid being vulnerable to entrapment claims, the FBI agents didn’t want their money being used to purchase their weapons in the sting. So they laundered the money through Dabus. In an interview, Dabus implicitly confirmed that arrangement, describing the $20,000 he estimates he received from the FBI as a mix of expenses and compensation.
“It also shows good intent,” Worms says of giving Osmakac the money, according to the transcripts. “He was willing to cough up almost his entire paycheck to get this thing going.”
“That does look really good,” concurs FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed.
Osmakac and Amir at a Days Inn in Tampa on January 7, 2012. (YouTube)
AMIR AND OSMAKAC arranged to meet at a Days Inn in Tampa on January 7, 2012. The FBI had the room wired with two cameras, a color one facing the headboard and a black-and-white one looking over the bed and toward the closet door, in front of which Osmakac would film his martyrdom video. Just as the FBI had orchestrated, Osmakac provided the cash to Amir as a down payment on the weapons.
The hotel surveillance video starts at 8:38 p.m. Osmakac is kneeling down on the floor and praying. He then stands and greets Amir, who has laid out the weapons on the bed. There are six grenades, a fully automatic AK-47 with magazines, a handgun and an explosive belt. Outside, a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device is assembled in the bed of Amir’s truck. None of the guns or explosives was functional, but Osmakac didn’t know that.
“You know, they saying they like three trillion in debt, they like 200 trillion in debt,” Osmakac had said, describing their plot. “And after all this money they’re spending for Homeland Security and all this, this is gonna be crushing them.”
Amir shows Osmakac the weapons one by one. He demonstrates how to reload the guns, and how to arm and throw the grenades, as Osmakac had never received weapons training.
“This one’s fully automatic,” Amir says, as Osmakac holds the AK-47.
Osmakac then slips on the suicide vest, as Amir showed him, and sits down in front of the closet, where he’ll record his video. Amir is seated in a chair facing Osmakac, holding the digital camera out in front of him.
The FBI was making a movie — all the agents needed was, in their words, a “Hollywood ending.” Osmakac would give them that final scene.
Osmakac had settled on an Irish bar, MacDinton’s, as his target. The supposed plan, which Osmakac dreamed up with Amir, was for Osmakac to detonate the bomb outside the bar, and then unleash a second attack at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Tampa, before finally detonating his explosive vest once the cops surrounded him.
But that didn’t happen. Instead, FBI agents arrested him in the hotel parking lot. He was charged with attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction — a weapon the FBI had assembled just for him.
After the arrest, according to the sealed transcripts, the FBI agents intended to celebrate their efforts over beers.
“The case agent usually buys,” one of the FBI employees is recorded as saying. Another adds: “That’s true — the case agent usually pops for everybody.”
Osmakac loading the fake car bomb with Amir. (YouTube)
HOW OSMAKAC CAME to the attention of law enforcement in the first place is still unclear. In a December 2012 Senate floor speech, Dianne Feinstein, chairwoman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, cited Osmakac’s case as one of nine that demonstrated the effectiveness of surveillance under the FISA Amendments Act. Senate legal counsel later walked back those comments, saying they were misconstrued. Osmakac is among terrorism defendants who were subjected to some sort of FISA surveillance, according to court records, but whether he was under individual surveillance or identified through bulk collection is unknown. Discovery material referenced in a defense motion included a surveillance log coversheet with the description, “CT-GLOBAL EXTREMIST INSPIRED.”
If he first came onto the FBI’s radar as a result of eavesdropping, then it’s plausible that as part of the sting, the FBI manufactured another explanation for his targeting. This is a long-running, if controversial process known as “parallel construction,” which has also been used by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration when drug offenders are identified through bulk collection and then prosecuted for drug crimes.
In court records, the FBI maintained that Osmakac came to agents’ attention through Dabus. The informant reached out to the FBI after meeting Osmakac, and soon offered him a job at Java Village.
At trial starting in May 2014, Osmakac’s lawyer, George Tragos, argued that the Kosovar-American was a young man suffering from mental illness, who had been entrapped by government agents.
A difficult defense to raise, entrapment requires not only that the government create the circumstances under which a crime may be committed, but also that the defendant not be “predisposed” toward the crime’s execution. “This entire case is like a Hollywood script,” Tragos told the jury, pointing out that the central piece of evidence was that Osmakac used government money to buy government weapons.
A psychologist retained by the defense, Valerie McClain, testified that Osmakac’s psychotic episodes, along with other mental health issues, made him especially easy for the government to manipulate. “When I talked to him most recently, he was still delusional,” McClain testified. “He still believed he could become a martyr.” Six mental health professionals examined Osmakac before his trial. Two hired by the defense and two appointed by the court diagnosed Osmakac with psychotic disorder or schizoaffective disorder. The pair hired by the prosecution said Osmakac suffered from milder mental problems, including depression and difficulty adapting to U.S. culture.
Tragos wasn’t able to tell the jury that FBI agents might have agreed with McClain’s assessment of Osmakac. The transcripts of the accidentally recorded conversations among FBI agents weren’t allowed into evidence, but after the trial, District Judge Mary S. Scriven did agree to unseal a number of them, which were heavily redacted by the government before being entered into the court file.
Prosecutors relied on the undercover FBI recordings and Osmakac’s own words to convict him. They played for the jury Osmakac’s so-called martyrdom video. They showed footage of Amir slipping over Osmakac’s shoulder the strap for the AK-47. They filled the courtroom with exchange after exchange of Osmakac’s hateful and violent rhetoric. Prosecutors played up Osmakac’s most ridiculous remarks, including his desire to bomb simultaneously the bridges that cross Tampa Bay. “The most powerful thing you can see are the defendant’s own words. His intent was to commit a violent act in America,” prosecutor Sara Sweeney told the jury.
Following a six-hour deliberation, jurors convicted Osmakac of possessing an unregistered AK-47 and attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction. In November 2014, he was sentenced to 40 years in federal prison.
“I wanted to go and study the religion … hoping that Allah is gonna cure me one day from the evil inside that I used to believe. But the doctors are saying it’s not evil — it’s mental illness.”
– Sami Osmakac
Entrapment has been argued in at least 12 trials following counterterrorism stings, and the defense has never been successful. Neither Abdul Raouf Dabus nor Russell Dennison testified in or provided depositions for Osmakac’s trial.
The government couldn’t produce Dabus, the FBI’s informant, because he had traveled to Gaza and Tel Aviv, where he says he was receiving treatment for cancer. He says his involvement with the FBI was limited to the Osmakac case — to reporting a suspicious man who was asking about Al Qaeda flags. Dabus disputes the FBI’s claim in court records that he was known to provide reliable information in the past.
“I did my job with them. I went away, and it is over,” Dabus says. “But I do not regret, and I would never regret to call again.”
Before Dabus left the country, the bank was granted approval to sell his Tampa home through foreclosure. His family owed $302,669, or about $50,000 more than the house was worth. Java Village is now shuttered. The signs are still on the outside of the building. Inside, the shelves are knocked over. Canned and dry goods litter the floor. Two dogs now guard the property.
Dennison, the red-bearded man who introduced Osmakac to Dabus, remains a mystery. He left the area shortly after Osmakac’s arrest, and emails he sent in late 2012 to a mutual friend he shared with Osmakac suggest he was fighting in Syria.
Osmakac’s family suspects much of Dennison’s story is a lie, and that he was, and likely still is, working with government agents. How else could Dennison have so conveniently delivered Osmakac to Dabus?
Confidential FBI reports on Dennison, copies of which were provided to The Intercept, do not address whether he’s been linked to a government agency. But the reports suggest the red-bearded man had a peculiar knack for becoming friendly with targets of FBI stings. After Osmakac’s arrest, FBI Special Agents Jacob Collins and Steve Dixon interviewed Dennison at Tampa International Airport, according to one report. Dennison was headed to Detroit, and from there, he said he hoped to go to Jordan to teach English. Dennison described how he was in contact with Abu Khalid Abdul-Latif, whose real name is Joseph Anthony Davis, a 36-year-old Seattle man who, like Osmakac, was troubled and financially struggling, lured by a paid informant into an FBI counterterrorism sting in June 2011. Abdul-Latif is serving 18 years for his crime.
Osmakac is now in USP Allenwood, a high-security prison north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
“I was manipulated by [the FBI],” Osmakac says in a phone call from prison. He says he only wanted to move to a Muslim country, where he hoped to find a wife. Instead, he says, Dabus and the FBI exploited his mental problems and pushed him in different direction.
“I wanted to go and study the religion and get married, have children, just have nothing to do with this Western world,” Osmakac says. “I wanted to study Arabic and the religion in depth, hoping that Allah is gonna cure me one day from the evil inside that I used to believe. But the doctors are saying it’s not evil — it’s mental illness.”
Osmakac’s family is trying to raise money for an appeal.
“If my brother was truly part of a plot to kill people, I’d be the first one in line to condemn him,” Osmakac’s brother Avni says. “But my brother was mentally ill. We were trying to get him help. The FBI got to him first.”
This story was reported in partnership with the Investigative Fund at The Nation Institute.
Illustration by Jon Proctor for The Intercept
《纽约时报》
Boston Muslims Struggle to Wrest Image of Islam From Terrorists
BOSTON — Yusufi Vali was hunched over his computer at this city’s biggest mosque, where he is executive director, when the first phone call came. The police had killed a man a few miles away. Soon there were reports that the man was a Muslim who had been under investigation for terrorism.
And so the news media inquiries began. More than 100 calls came to the mosque over the next few days. Mr. Vali would explain, over and over, that the young man fatally shot after pulling a knife on the police on June 2 had only the slightest connection to the mosque: He had been hired by a security contractor to guard the mosque during the holy month of Ramadan in 2013.
No, he was not a regular at prayers. No, Mr. Vali did not recall meeting him. No, he could not shed light on any reported plan to behead a police officer, except to say that such a thing would be abhorrent.
Continue reading the main story
“It weighs on you,” Mr. Vali, a rail-slender 31-year-old Princeton graduate, said of the fallout from the latest allegations of terrorist plotting in the name of Islam. “I don’t have control over what these people do. It’s frustrating to have it put on us.”
Men gathered for Friday Prayer at the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center
To be Muslim in America today means to be held responsible, or to fear you may be, for the brutal acts of others whose notion of what Allah demands is utterly antithetical to your own. For the diverse crowd that prays at the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center, where professors at nearby universities mix with freshly arrived immigrants from Somalia and Egypt, it means hearing the word “Islamic” first thing each morning in news reports on an infamous extremist group. It means a kind of implied collective responsibility, however illogical, for beheadings in Syria, executions in Iraq and bombs in Boston.
For the estimated 70,000 Muslims in the city and suburbs, there are particular pressures. For more than two years, since the bombing near the finish line of the Boston Marathon, the city has been transfixed by the tragedy’s aftermath. For more than six years, a tiny organization with an anodyne name, Americans for Peace and Tolerance, has publicly claimed in newspaper ads and web postings that Boston’s Muslim institutions are led by extremists and terrorist sympathizers.
And in some mosques, tensions have played out between conservatives, some with deep roots in the Middle East, and more liberal worshipers. The former imam at the Boston center, William Suhaib Webb, who moved to Washington last year, recalled that after a sermon expressing a tolerant view of what Islam allows, a congregant told him bluntly: “You’re not a Muslim.”
On the grounds of the Boston center, a soaring mosque with a minaret and red-brick construction meant to honor New England tradition, work is underway to turn an abandoned swimming pool into a formal Islamic-style garden. It was to be called the “Terrace Garden,” until some jaw-dropping reactions showed that some people thought they were hearing “terrorist garden.” The project was quietly renamed “Paradise Garden.”
News arrived recently that a 57-year-old man in Iowa had been arrested after posting obscene and threatening notes, one including a photograph of a rifle, on the mosque’s Facebook page. Then people began to stop by the office to show Mr. Vali fliers someone had slid under the doors of neighboring houses in the Roxbury neighborhood, citing the Americans for Peace and Tolerance claims and denouncing the mosque for “extremist leadership.”
Mr. Vali, who is close to several local rabbis and ministers and whose only evident fanaticism is for the Kansas City Royals, took to the public address system before Friday Prayer to call on congregants to ignore the bait. “Let’s kill them with kindness,” he said of the mosque’s critics.
He said he and his staff, who are guiding a search for a new imam, were determined not to be distracted from the mosque’s mission — to build a home for a distinctly American Islam, one that models community service, tolerance and compassion.
The Obama administration, worried about the recruiting of young Americans by Islamic State extremists, chose Boston last fall as one of three cities for a Countering Violent Extremism pilot program. The idea is to brainstorm ways to combat recruitment by all militants, including antigovernment groups and white supremacists. But the plan has divided Muslims in Boston and the other two cities, Minneapolis and Los Angeles.
Mr. Vali’s mosque is among those that have opted out of the federal program, saying that however well intentioned it is, they believe it will further stigmatize Muslims.
“There is obviously an ideology that exists that’s horrific,” Mr. Vali said. But he said he had not encountered violent militancy in his congregation and believed it would be a mistake “to gear everything around extremism.”
Rather than lecturing young people about terrorism, he said, he wants them learning genuine Islamic principles in a new youth program and in joint projects with churches and synagogues.
Some Muslim activists have decided to go along with the federal effort. Nabeel Khudairi, 53, an optometrist in the Boston suburb of Norwood, is already creating a program to encourage young Muslims to look for genuine heroes and convince them that they “should not go to YouTube University and not listen to Imam Google.”
Hafsa Salim, a human resources manager, waited outside the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center for a shuttle to take her youngest daughter Nura to school
Participating in the federal project “is getting on a ship before it sails,” Mr. Khudairi said. “Otherwise you’re standing on shore, watching it go.”
Unlike Minneapolis, Boston has not experienced the departure of dozens of young people for militant groups like the Shabab, in Somalia, and the Islamic State, also known as ISIS or ISIL. But over the years, a growing list of Muslim extremists and terrorists has emerged from the city.
Most notorious are the Tsarnaev brothers, who committed the marathon bombing. But there are others:
■ Ahmad Abousamra, 33 if he is still alive, grew up in suburban Boston. His father was an endocrinologist at Massachusetts General Hospital and president of the Islamic Center of New England. He fled to Syria in 2007 after coming under F.B.I. scrutiny and last year joined the Islamic State’s prolific English-language social media operation in Syria, officials believe. In late May, the Iraqi military announced that he had been killed in an airstrike; American officials have not confirmed his death.
■ Tarek Mehanna, another suburbanite in his early 30s, who was charged in 2009 with Mr. Abousamra but did not flee. He was convicted of supporting Al Qaeda and other charges, and is serving a 17-year federal sentence.
■ Rezwan Ferdaus, 29, grew up in the outer suburb of Ashland and earned a physics degree at Northeastern University. He was sentenced in 2012 to 17 years for plotting to fly explosives-laden model planes into the Capitol and the Pentagon and other crimes.
■ Aafia Siddiqui, 43, who earned a Ph.D. in neuroscience at Brandeis and became an outspoken Muslim activist. She later joined Al Qaeda and in 2008, in custody in Afghanistan, was accused of shooting at American soldiers. She was sentenced in 2010 to 86 years.
■ Abdurahman Alamoudi, 63, a founder of the Islamic Society of Boston, parent organization to Mr. Vali’s mosque, who in 2004 was sentenced to 23 years for joining a bizarre Libyan plot to kill the Saudi crown prince and other charges.
They are among more than a dozen people featured in a rogues’ gallery of former Bostonians featured in advertisements and online writings of Americans for Peace and Tolerance. The group’s founder is Charles Jacobs, 71, a former business consultant who spent years combating contemporary slavery in Africa before focusing on what he sees as a new form of anti-Semitism, fueled by Islamic extremism and hostility to Israel.
The accumulation of Boston malefactors makes for a disturbing list, especially if it is now updated with Usaamah Rahim, the man killed by the police this month, and two other men who were charged Friday with plotting with him and supporting the Islamic State. The Boston Globe was prompted last week to ask in a headline, “Are Boston terrorism cases a trend?”
Mr. Jacobs blames what he believes to be the radical leadership of area mosques, including the Islamic Society of Boston. He points to the fact that devotees of the Muslim Brotherhood, the conservative Islamist organization with branches and allies across the Middle East, were involved in founding the society more than three decades ago. The Muslim American Society, whose Boston branch operates Mr. Vali’s mosque, has been accused of links to the Brotherhood; it insists any ties are historical and have no relevance.
“We think and say and write that the vast majority of Muslims in Boston and America are moderates who would never do anyone any harm,” Mr. Jacobs said. “We think the I.S.B. leadership are hiding behind the general Muslim population.”
Abdul Cader Asmal, left, a retired physician, and Nabeel Khudairi, an optometrist, outside the Islamic Center of New England in Sharon, Mass. Dr. Asmal said that Islam must find a way to “excommunicate” extremists
His assertions have been rejected by Boston’s leading rabbis and the United States attorney, Carmen Ortiz, who said she found the group’s claims “incredibly racist and unfair.”
A closer look at extremists who have come from Boston finds little evidence that they were radicalized at local mosques. For example, the authorities believe the Chechen brothers responsible for the bombing at the marathon got their ideas largely online; the older brother, Tamerlan Tsarnaev, was thrown out of the Islamic Society of Boston’s Cambridge mosque after a strident outburst.
Still, to talk privately with a range of Boston-area Muslims is to hear a more subtle story about the battle over Islamic ideology. One Pakistani-American, who did not want to be identified for fear of becoming a target of anger, said he believed Muslim Brotherhood loyalists in Boston still met secretly and had a pernicious influence on some young people. But he said he did not believe these “hard-liners,” as he called them, supported terrorism.
Talal Eid, 63, a liberal imam who was ousted from his longtime position at a suburban Boston mosque in a factional fight in 2005, said he believed the city’s mosques should operate more democratically. But he said the ideological tensions had no relationship to violence.
“Muslims all over are very good people, working hard, living their lives,” he said. “In Boston, when you talk about terrorists, you can count them on the fingers of one hand. It’s not even one in 10,000.”
But while the numbers may be small, the consequences for American Muslims of each reported plot or act of religiously motivated violence are incalculable.
Some Boston Muslims believe Islam itself faces a grave, perhaps existential danger from the association with terror.
Mr. Webb, the imam who served at Mr. Vali’s mosque from 2010 to 2014, has been denounced on the Internet for his liberal views. A onetime gang member and hip-hop D.J. from a Christian family, he said he himself had espoused deeply conservative views after converting to Islam and changed only gradually.
After the Islamic State beheadings of journalists last year, Mr. Webb delivered a striking sermon. “In America, no religious community has been beaten up or slapped around in the last 13 years like us,” he said.
But he added: “Within our ranks, we have people who openly say they want to kill Americans, they would like to see the destruction of America.” Mr. Webb said Muslims did not like to talk about the few who embrace violence. “But if we continue to ignore these problems, they’ll never be answered,” he said.
The same sense of danger to Islam was expressed by an older member of the Boston community, Abdul Cader Asmal, 76, a retired physician and longtime leader in area mosques. He recalled watching Tarek Mehanna and Ahmad Abousamra grow up, and expressed puzzlement that one had ended up in prison and the other with ISIS.
“This is painful for us,” Dr. Asmal said. Islam, he said, must find a way to “excommunicate” extremists.
“If it doesn’t take a drastic stance against terrorism,” Dr. Asmal added, “its credibility as a force for good will be lost.”
《纽约时报》
To Reel In Crowds, a Museum Is Showing a Fake Painting
By WILLIAM GRIMESOCT. 31, 2014
The 19th-century artist James E. Buttersworth, although a titan in the field of marine art, cannot be described as famous. Prized for his exquisitely detailed portraits of racing yachts and clipper ships, he remains unknown to the general public and therefore has limited drawing power.
To overcome this obstacle, the Mariners’ Museum in Newport News, Va., hit on a novel solution for its new exhibition of his work: Toss in a forgery and challenge museum visitors to sniff it out from among the 34 genuine Buttersworth works.
About that ringer: Museums and forgeries are natural enemies, and officials at the Mariners’ Museum tiptoed warily around their idea for quite some time before committing to it.
“The museum couldn’t be seen spending money on this and putting it in the collection,” said Lyles Forbes, the museum’s chief curator and the organizer of “B Is for Buttersworth, F Is for Forgery: Solve a Maritime Mystery,” which opened on Saturday.
When it came down to it, he added, he was not even sure how to acquire a forgery.
At this point, help arrived from a man who has agreed to identify himself only as “a friend of the museum.” (Because his name appears as a lender on the wall text of the forged painting, providing it here might give away the secret to visitors).
The friend took on the assignment of securing a forged Buttersworth, which proved to be relatively easy, since, when it comes to bogus Buttersworths, nearly all roads lead to one man: Ken Perenyi.
For years, Mr. Perenyi studied and imitated the work of Buttersworth, turning a tidy profit by selling his paintings to unsuspecting dealers and collectors. He is not shy about this. Visitors who click on his website are greeted with the words “Welcome to America’s No. 1 Art Forger Website.” He has chronicled his buccaneering days of turning out bogus Buttersworths and Martin Johnson Heades, his mainstays, in “Caveat Emptor: The Secret Life of an American Art Forger,” published two years ago.
Mr. Perenyi now plies his trade openly and legally (though he is still on the F.B.I.'s radar). The friend of the museum acquired, through an intermediary, a genuine ersatz Buttersworth, from Mr. Perenyi’s stock on hand, for about 5 to 10 percent of the price that the painting might fetch if it were authentic.
A small Buttersworth in good condition might sell for $30,000, said Alan Granby, who, with Janice Hyland, runs Hyland Granby Antiques in Hyannis Port, Mass, which usually has several Buttersworths for sale. The much rarer large paintings, especially those depicting America’s Cup races, can go for more than $1 million. Mr. Perenyi said that his prices range from $5,000 to $150,000.
The museum has made a point of not mentioning Mr. Perenyi, who said he did not know until a reporter approached him that his work was in its current show. “We did not want to lend any legitimacy to the forger or be seen as promoting him in any way,” Mr. Forbes said.
On entering the exhibition, visitors approach a high-resolution digital image of “Magic and Gracie off Castle Garden,” an 1871 Butterworth that shows two yachts, sails taut in the wind, racing neck and neck in New York Harbor. On a nearby television screen, a photo of Buttersworth pops up, and “hot spots,” activated with the touch of a finger, explain the fine points: the signature, size, background features, sky and weather, seas and sea gulls, composition and meticulous detailing of the ships.
Visitors, prompted by clues in the wall texts, then try to identify the lone forgery. At two voting booths, they can test their suspicions by entering the number of the suspected forgery on touch screens that tell them whether they are right or wrong and offer to give them the correct answer. Then the honor system applies. Those in the know are asked not to give away the secret.
Mr. Forbes invited Colette Loll, the founder and director of the consulting firm Art Fraud Insights, to write wall texts explaining the difference between fakes and forgeries: Fakes replicate an existing work, while forgeries masquerade as new or unknown work.
Mr. Perenyi has been a burr under her saddle for quite some time. “He seems to have no remorse for diluting the body of work of an artist he professes to admire with all the forgeries he has inserted into the market,” she said. “If you fess up, but do not provide the specifics, the forgeries are still out there in circulation.”
Mr. Perenyi is more than happy to explain the techniques required to fake a Buttersworth, which he does crisply and authoritatively. If the circumstances were different, you could imagine him delivering a splendid lecture at the museum.
Over the telephone, he held forth enthusiastically on Buttersworth’s hallmarks: the favored New York settings; the play of light on clouds and water, reflecting the influence of the Luminist painters; the love of dramatic contrasts in the sky; and the painstaking attention to detail, with the stitching on canvas sails depicted in lines as fine as a human hair.
“Hardest of all is the unique way he painted water, " Mr. Perenyi said. “He did not follow the tried and true technique that British artists developed for waves and water. He rolls or twists his brush in his fingers as he pulls it along, to get ribbons of highlights.”
Close study and constant practice, Mr. Perenyi said, have made him the equal of his master. “If he could come back to life, he would shake my hand,” he said. “After all, I devoted 30 years to understanding him. He would say, ‘I would be proud to put my name on it myself.”
The forgery aside, the exhibition draws heavily on its own substantial collection of Buttersworths, augmented by loans from other museums and by a collection of 16 paintings recently donated by Janet Schaefer, a collector in Stonington, Conn.
All eyes will be searching for the non-Buttersworth, however. The painting returns to the friend of the museum when the exhibition closes on April 26, at which point, the friend said, “I’ll probably put it in my office as a conversation piece.”
As for Mr. Perenyi, he declared himself well pleased to be included in the Mariners’ Museum exhibition. " I take it as a great compliment,” he said, “and a testament to the museum’s good taste.”
《华尔街日报》
U.S. Is Awash in Glut of Scrap Materials
A strong dollar, slowing Chinese economy cut into demand abroad for salvaged metal and paper
Scrapper Bob ‘Hoop’ Hooper was making as much as $400 a day selling scrap just three years ago. ‘Now I’m doing $100 to $200,’ he says
James R. Hagerty and Bob Tita
Updated June 7, 2015
American companies have complained for the past year that the headwinds of a strong dollar and a slowing Chinese economy are hurting their earnings.
For sellers of scrap metal, used cardboard boxes, and other waste, those headwinds are more like a hurricane.
Waste has long been a major U.S. export, providing material to be melted in foreign steel mills or made into new paper products. But the strength of the dollar has made American waste pricier abroad, cutting demand in China, Turkey and other markets.
U.S. exports of scrap materials have fallen by 36% since peaking at $32.6 billion 2011. Prices of shredded scrap steel have plunged about 18% so far this year and are down 41% since early 2012, according data collected by the Platts unit of McGraw Hill Financial -0.45 The dollar is up about 17% since last July against a basket of major currencies compiled by the Federal Reserve.
That has been hard on the network of waste dealers and scrap gatherers who are the backbone of the industry.
Bob Hooper, who goes by Hoop, finds discarded metal on curbs and in dumpsters around Pittsburgh and carries it to scrapyards in a rusting Chevy pickup with a bungee cord to keep the driver’s door shut. He was making as much as $400 a day selling scrap just three years ago, he said. “Now I’m doing $100 to $200.”
Or less. On a recent day, he hauled in more than 1,000 pounds of scrap, including two discarded refrigerators, a water heater and a broken microwave buried in egg shells and other moist trash. After gasoline expenses, he netted about $80.
Top Logistics News
Get the latest news and analysis on logistics and supply chain via an email newsletter. Sign up. And see complete coverage at WSJ.com/Logistics
Turkey, whose steel mills are big users of scrap, has been buying less from the U.S. and more from Russia, Ukraine and other places with weaker currencies. Meanwhile, U.S. steel production has fallen in response to more imports, so American producers are buying less scrap.
Demand for old paper and boxes also is down in the U.S. The average price for used corrugated cardboard has fallen 27% in the past year to $77 a ton, according to Pulp & Paper Week.
The recent labor dispute at West Coast ports disrupted exports, forcing buyers like China to find other sources and creating a glut in the U.S.
Waste and scrap remains a big business. Last year it accounted for 1.3% of U.S. exports, about the same as meat and poultry, and bigger than either corn or computers. The industry directly employs about 149,000 people, according to the Institute of Scrap Recycling Industries, a trade group. That doesn’t count self-employed people like Mr. Hooper.
On a recent day, Mr. Hooper hauled in more than 1,000 pounds of scrap, including two discarded refrigerators, a water heater and a broken microwave. After expenses, he netted about $80
After a steep drop in scrap prices earlier this year, “things seem to have stabilized a little,” said Joe Pickard, economist for the trade group. But the outlook hinges on a pickup in global manufacturing, which is currently sluggish.
When China was booming, scrap dealers focused heavily on that market. Ships that carried furniture and other household goods from China to California returned stuffed with old metal and boxes ready to be converted into new products. That traffic has slowed.
“Clearly, it’s been a great run for a number of years,” said Alan Dick, president of Los Angeles-based Alpert & Alpert Iron & Metal Inc. As demand from China wanes, he hopes Vietnam, Thailand and Malaysia will buy more U.S. scrap. Combined they might provide enough demand to keep his 85-year-old company alive for another generation, he said.
Warren Rosenfeld, president of Calbag Metals Co., a scrap metals dealer in Portland, Ore., said he fears a long-term decline in the U.S. scrap industry. As people in China buy and wear out more cars and refrigerators, they create a larger supply of domestic scrap, he said, reducing the need for imports from the U.S.
Another worry for scrap-metals dealers is that new cars contain less steel these days as manufacturers reduce vehicle weights to improve fuel economy, said Randy Castriota, owner of Castriota Metals & Recycling in Pittsburgh. Cars also stay longer on the road—and out of the scrap pool.
Mr. Castriota, who employs about 30 people, had to lay off four a few months ago. A shortage of truck drivers has forced him to pay more to haul scrap to his customers. Insurance costs are up, too.
One beneficiary of lower scrap prices is Nucor Corp. -0.74 , the largest U.S. steelmaker, which makes most of its steel from melted scrap rather than iron ore. Chief Executive John Ferriola told investors recently that profit margins for scrap processors have been severely compressed, adding, “We expect to see some people not making it through this very difficult time.”
Nucor, he said, may take advantage of the downturn by acquiring distressed scrap-processing businesses. “We won’t be shy,” he said. “We’ll be at the table.”
Falling prices also threaten the paper-recycling business, some dealers said.
Joel Litman, co-owner of Texas Recycling/Surplus Inc. in Dallas, worries that “prices can get so low that you can’t even cover your processing costs.” Texas Recycling collects high-grade waste paper from various businesses and sells the material to dealers for use in tissue paper, paper towels and other paper products used by restaurants and the food service industry.
With the current glut, he said, “there’s just a lot of paper out there that cannot get consumed fast enough.”
《纽约时报》
U.S. Shifts Stance on Drug Pricing in Pacific Trade Pact Talks, Document Reveals
By JONATHAN WEISMANJUNE 10, 2015
WASHINGTON — Facing resistance from Pacific trading partners, the Obama administration is no longer demanding protection for pharmaceutical prices under the 12-nation Trans-Pacific Partnership, according to a newly leaked section of the proposed trade accord.
But American negotiators are still pressing participating governments to open the process that sets reimbursement rates for drugs and medical devices. Public health professionals, generic-drug makers and activists opposed to the trade deal, which is still being negotiated, contend that it will empower big pharmaceutical firms to command higher reimbursement rates in the United States and abroad, at the expense of consumers.
“It was very clear to everyone except the U.S. that the initial proposal wasn’t about transparency. It was about getting market access for the pharmaceutical industry by giving them greater access to and influence over decision-making processes around pricing and reimbursement,” said Deborah Gleeson, a lecturer at the School of Psychology and Public Health at La Trobe University in Australia. And even though the section, known as the transparency annex, has been toned down, she said, “I think it’s a shame that the annex is still being considered at all for the T.P.P.”
The annex, which covers pharmaceutical and medical devices, is the latest document obtained by The New York Times in collaboration with the watchdog group WikiLeaks, and it was released before the House vote on whether to give President Obama expanded powers to complete the Trans-Pacific Partnership. The Senate has already approved legislation giving the president trade promotion authority, or fast-track power that would allow him to complete trade deals without the threat of amendments or a filibuster in Congress. A House vote on final passage of the bill, now expected on Friday, appears extremely close.
The Pacific accord, would link countries stretching from Canada and Chile to Japan and Australia in a new set of trade rules that would cover 40 percent of the global economy.
Opponents of both the Pacific deal and the legislation to grant trade promotion authority have long targeted the pharmaceutical issue. Foreign governments and health care activists have accused pharmaceutical giants, mostly based in the United States, of protecting profits over public health, especially in poor countries where neither the government nor consumers can afford to pay rates anywhere close to those charged in wealthier nations.
That fight re-emerged in the Pacific trade negotiations, which involve countries with strong cost-containment policies, like New Zealand, as well as poor countries like Peru and Vietnam.
The agreement “will increase the cost of medicines worldwide, starting with the 12 countries that are negotiating the Trans-Pacific Partnership,” said Judit Rius Sanjuan, a lawyer at Doctors Without Borders, a humanitarian organization that provides medical care in more than 60 countries.
Drug companies, however, say they need to be able to charge fair prices to compensate for the billions of dollars and decades of research that go into their medicines.
Jay Taylor, vice president for international affairs for Pharmaceutical Research and Manufacturers of America, said penetrating the opaque process for getting a drug considered for a national health system, then listed as available and properly priced, is central to free trade for drug makers. “It is market access,” he said.
That is particularly true for the Pacific accord, he said, because one of the countries, New Zealand, has a powerful system for holding down drug costs — and keeping drug makers in the dark. New Zealand’s health system has been held up as a model for the Pacific region, a prospect the pharmaceutical industry does not relish.
“There are no clear timelines for review, no sense of what a complete dossier is to get a fair review,” Mr. Taylor said. “It’s a question of basic due process.”
Negotiators from the United States appear to be pushing a similar agenda in separate negotiations with the European Union, according to a copy of an internal European report viewed on Wednesday by The New York Times.
The report, dated May 8 and written by the European Commission, said of the status of talks with the United States on a planned Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership, also known as T.T.I.P., “The U.S. reiterated its interest to include transparency provisions on pricing and reimbursement within the T.T.I.P. similar to the ones E.U. and U.S. have with Korea.”
The report was made available by a person who shared the information on the condition of anonymity.
The European Commission has said that the pharmaceutical aspects of trade talks with the United States focus mostly on simplifying inspections and making it easier to approve and develop new medicines, insisting that the “fear E.U. governments would lose their right to decide” drug costs was unfounded.
Pharmaceutical firms and their trade associations have filed by far more lobbying disclosure forms on the Pacific trade negotiations than any other industry, according to the watchdog Sunlight Foundation. More broadly, the pharmaceutical and health product industries have been the biggest spenders on lobbying, and drug company deal-making with the Obama administration and in Congress was instrumental in securing passage of the Affordable Care Act.
Public health professionals say pharmaceutical industry lobbying is meant to diminish the power of government health programs that trim reimbursement rates to global pharmaceutical giants. The newly leaked annex, dated Dec. 17, 2014, lists Medicare and the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services as falling under its strictures.
That may embolden critics.
“The leak is just the latest glaring example of why fast-tracking the T.P.P. would undermine the health of Americans and the other countries and cost our government more, all to the benefit of pharma’s profits,” said Lori Wallach, director of Public Citizen’s Global Trade Watch and one of the most prominent voices in the coalition working to scuttle trade promotion authority.
Officials at the United States trade representative’s office, while declining to comment on a leak they would not acknowledge, said rules in the Pacific accord would have no impact on the United States because Medicare already adhered to them. The trade representative’s office helped develop the proposals.
“Already, transparency and procedural fairness are integral parts of the U.S. legal system and as such are principles reflected in U.S. trade agreements,” the representative’s office said in a statement.
While the current draft may fall short of what pharmaceutical companies wanted, it also offers them new opportunities to challenge the decisions of trading partners on which drugs they will offer their citizens through government health care programs and the rates at which they will reimburse drug sellers.
A version of the Trans-Pacific Partnership annex that was leaked in 2011 made explicit reference to “competitive market-derived prices,” promising drug companies the chance to appeal rates they deemed insufficient. Those are gone, “a victory for the non-U.S. partners to some extent,” Ms. Gleeson said.
But Pacific accord negotiators appear ready to grant pharmaceutical and medical device makers more power to influence participating governments. The 12 countries involved, and any others that might join later, would have to disclose rules and guidelines for deciding which medical products would be made available through government programs and at what rate providers would be reimbursed.
In the United States, pharmaceutical companies and Medicare have fought for years over which drugs are listed for reimbursement, especially when Medicare lists generic drugs over name brands. While advocates of the trade deal, including Mr. Obama, say opening markets to competition should lower prices for consumers, generic-drug makers say the Trans-Pacific Trade Partnership could raise costs instead.
Heather Bresch, the chief executive of Mylan, one of the largest generic-drug makers, said the brand-name pharmaceutical industry was “establishing, through U.S. trade policy, an international system designed to maximize its monopolies.”
By listing the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the annex makes it clear the United States would not be immune to T.P.P. rules. Japan, Australia and New Zealand may not have drug companies as powerful as those in the United States, but under the accord, American subsidiaries in Pacific trade partners could use the accord’s dispute-resolution process against perceived violations by Medicare.
It also suggests that disputes over pharmaceutical listing would not be subject to government-to-government dispute resolution, the World Trade Organization and retaliatory tariffs.
Instead, trade lawyers say, disputes would most likely be resolved through the Investor-State Dispute Settlement process, which involves three-lawyer extrajudicial tribunals organized under rules set by the United Nations or the World Bank.
That could be significant for current Medicare practices, said Peter Maybarduk of Public Citizen’s Global Access to Medicines project, and also could hinder efforts to lower costs by changing federal law to allow the government to negotiate prices directly with drug makers.
Officials at the trade representative’s office say those concerns are unfounded.
“The transparency annex in T.P.P. is not subject to Investor-State Dispute Settlement, and nothing in its provisions will undermine our ability to pursue the best health care policy for Americans, including any future action on health care expenditures and cost containment,” a trade representative spokesman said.
世界都被中国山寨光了
以前见到过一些儿童读物,翻译的的占绝大多数。当时就觉得很失落。因素多了,国外教育领先,儿童教育效果是现成的,不买白不买,买了版权,出了书, 国内买的家庭多了。销售量好,书商自然轻视国内作品,而国内大家都忙着赚钱,哪顾得写有质量的儿童书籍啊,抄了都不声明,买版权算是守规矩的了。
中国服务业贸易常常是逆差,娱乐产品(像电影、电视剧、电视节目、书籍之类)都在内,贡献大了。中国政府还管制得严,话不让随便说,买些搞笑的,唱歌跳舞之类的,
2015.06.10
《钛媒体》外国版权都被买光了,未来中国综艺模式怎么走?
日前,在上海电视节联合世熙创立的首届“中国模式日”论坛上,世界前十的综艺模式制造和发行公司全部来华,与国内同行热烈讨论了如何才能制造有中国特色的、具有“互联网+”的模式节目。
话题一,讲中国故事
2014 年中国播出的节目模式总数达63档,当年新引进节目模式就达35档……据悉,这三四年间,由于疯狂争购外国模式,其价格在中国猛增了数十倍。对此,国内电 视人不无担忧地认为,中国人几乎用尽了国际电视业花30年研发的所有成功模式。引进已经走到尽头,现在是认真考虑如何研发中国原创节目并推出模式的关口 了。如何将海外模式本土化成了重中之重。
浙江卫视俞杭英以《中国梦想秀》为例,认为中国版更重视故事性,概念上重视节目中的打动人的因 素。这些对于中国观众来说有吸引力的东西,他们在节目本土化改造中就会加强表现。此外,俞杭英以当下最热的《奔跑吧,兄弟》为例,认为“中国元素”的加入 是一个很重要的原因。在“跑男”的节目游戏设计中,他们会结合国人熟悉的元素,比如“老鹰抓小鸡”,借此可以拉进与观众的距离。
在SMG节目模式研发博士后高级研发员马忠君看来,
目前阶段,韩国模式之所以能在中国大行其道,是因为这些节目的本土化暗合了中国人的情感逻辑,家庭里面的事,社会里面的事,儿女情长的事。欧美这些模式也可能会有适合的方面,只不过我们在本土化欧美节目模式的过程中,目前还没有找到一个比较好的方式。
BBCW 模式构思总监凯特·菲利普则表示,“在进行本土化时我们会参考当地的书籍、电视来做出相应调整,主持人、明星选择等也会按照当地观众的口味来选择,我们还 会邀请不同国家的制片人来英国交流经验,所以购买模式不单单只是一次交易,更是构建了一个国际性的关系网”。制作公司ALL3Media高级副总裁萨布丽 娜·德奎特则表示,不同的国家有不同的禁忌,比如在法国,医疗诊断是禁止上电视的,其公司制作的医疗节目就在法国做出了相应的调整。
有趣的是,搜狐视频制作总监王一提到,很多模式商很爱惜自己的羽毛,很多“模式”进入中国,“本地化”是一个非常重要的问题,因为这还关系到如何说服原始的模式商,“让他能够允许我们对他的模式进行本地化”。搜狐影视版权总监马可看来,
欧美真人秀节目当中,我们看到更多的是放大冲突、放大残酷性,用现在讲的流行词语就是“撕”。但中国模式本土化、内容本土化上受到韩国影响,相对展示的是更具戏剧性与和谐性,没有太大的逻辑冲突、利益关系。
话题二,未来中国模式一定重素人,但现在不是
最 近几天,真人秀限令传闻颇多,尤其是对“明星富人俱乐部”这一现象,娱乐资本论就知道引发了不少保守主义者的反感。对此,俞杭英表示,目前还没有接到正式 通知,跑男第二季节目依然在紧张的后期制作中。至于第三季跑男被传将挪至明年上,她表示还没有确定,“不过马上就知道了。”
其实,国内真 人秀的明星费用一直被业界感慨过高,俞杭英说:“不止‘跑男’有这个现象,我们论坛中也说到很多大型户外真人秀拿明星作为主要参与者,这已经是普遍现象 了。这个成本的确非常高,是不能承受之重,所有大型户外真人秀制作者当然不希望这么高额的成本中这一块比例太高。但市场就是只无形的手,有这个存在,那就 是很自然的事情。”
不过这一点在搜狐马可看来,主要还是受到韩国节目模式制作的影响非常深刻:“韩国模式最突出的一个特点就是明星化,素人的节目下一步可能是一个趋势,但现在来讲市场空间不大。”
A&E 网络中国区总经理艾德维娜·尼高也发现到,中国在做节目时明星很主要,“当前国外大多数真人秀的参加者都是素人,节目作用和收视率也都极好,但依托广告挣 钱的中国电视台这么做就不可,节目只要有明星加盟广告商才情愿资助,这是中国市场和世界市场很大的不一样”。
《年代秀》的模式方DRG现 在与深圳卫视协作了《加油吧新郎!》,原版中这档以新郎为新娘打造定制婚礼的节目模式由素人参加,但中国版就加入了每期约请一位明星参加新郎的婚礼策划并 担任婚礼证婚人,DRG首席执行官杰瑞米·福克斯表明这是一个很有意思的学习过程,“任何模式到了一个全新的国家都是不可能直接照搬的,咱们的经历是在中 国找到靠谱的协作伙伴,并习惯中国的明星需求”。
话题三,用户参与感是互联网的核心,但技术手段不是
每年当中国电视人去参加戛纳的“Mip Formats”时,都会感受到欧洲电视人强烈的变革,尤其是今年更是将“互联网+”玩到了极致。
确实,新媒体时代网络技术和数字技术的发展,为电视节目带来了无限发展空间,各种媒介的相互叠加与结合日益增强,这既是对电视节目的挑战,也是对电视节目内容创新的促进。那么,所谓的“互联网+”,对节目模式意味着什么?
还 是以欧洲为例,DoriMedia首席执行官Nadav Palti表示,他们很早就嗅出互联网将会带给人们生活方式的变化。08年Dori在以色列推出了一个产品,观众可以来选择在电视节目里面发生什么情况。 有点像“老大哥”节目的类似模式。24小时里面每个观众都可以通过互联网、手机投票决定最后的结果和走向。而《New York》是专门犯罪题材电视剧,一共三季,每季50集。Dori 通过社交媒体、互联网、facebook等让受众参与进来,观众甚至可以参与到警察对主角审讯的过程中,通过用户在互联网、游戏等各方面参与来提升活跃 度。从2011年起,公司就为互联网量身定制节目内容。
而来自瑞典的DRG,则给出了不少数据:
瑞典在过去的一年,免费电视台收视率已经下降了14%。
瑞典每一个上网的网民,其在网上花的时间是电视的两倍。
互联网的黄金时间主要集中在工作时间,从技术上来讲,要对广告做一些重新的安排。
目 前,电视荧屏还面临一个新的竞争对手:手机。其碎片化、社交化的特征,更为复杂和深刻地改变着青年一代。传统媒体的使用是被动接受,网络是主动搜索,而在 手机上的刷屏、分享取代了前两者,需要以精炼的内容和互动体验满足受众。Nadav Palti介绍了一个名为“自拍挑战”的节目,两组挑战者需要完成一些高难度自拍任务,通过网络回传,其中一些拍摄动作可以由观众指定。这是一个能把数种 媒体相融合的节目模式,已经在数十个国家落地并获得成功。
而马可认为,要关注的不是“屏幕”,而是屏幕后面的人。互动元素、技术手段都不是最核心的要素,依然“内容为王”,谁的节目能迅速匹配屏幕背后的用户口味,谁就赢下这一城。
未来中国模式怎么走?先去戛纳定制,再集纳资源建立模式工厂
近一年来,中国节目市场的火热也引起了海外的关注,就连小娱这个电视边缘人都差点去了戛纳电视节。
从2013年起,戛纳电视节还专门设立中国电视节目模式现状与趋势研讨会,但据乐正传媒研发与咨询总监彭侃介绍,中国同行对于模式版权的引进逐渐谨慎,以学习交流为主,真正谈成的模式引进少了。
“我 们已经将韩国模式买空了,下一步怎么办?”华策爱奇艺影视公司CEO杜昉提出,“中国电视人不缺创意,但目前的市场和平台只认引进模式,这需要从政策层面 引导。”马忠君则认为,世熙传媒在上海节首创“模式日”活动是一种风向标,“过去中国电视人去戛纳买模式,完全是买手的感觉,这两年已经慢慢发展成定制方 向,去戛纳商谈资源。其实,离中国电视市场最近的地方不在国外,上海电视节应该成为中国电视人建立自己模式工厂的开端。”
此外,美国 A+E Networks 副总裁和中国区总经理区詠卿则主张,不仅模式进入中国时要进行本土化,而且从中国走出去时也需要做一些本土化,“中国的模式在情感上面比较重视”。CJ E&M内容部部长黄振宇表示,他正在引进一档中国节目,但是把他移到韩国本土后,他也会进行本土化,将节目焦点置换。
《Stratfor Global Intelligence》
Decade Forecast: 2015-2025
February 23, 2015
This is the fifth Decade Forecast published by Stratfor. Every five years since 1996 (1996, 2000, 2005, 2010 and now, 2015) Stratfor has produced a rolling forecast. Overall, we are proud of our efforts. We predicted the inability of Europe to survive economic crises, China's decline and the course of the U.S.-jihadist war. We also made some errors. We did not anticipate 9/11, and more important, we did not anticipate the scope of the American response. But in 2005 we did forecast the difficulty the United States would face and the need for the United States to withdraw from its military engagements in the Islamic world. We predicted China's weakness too early, but we saw that weakness when others were seeing the emergence of an economy larger than that of the United States. Above all, we have consistently forecast the enduring power of the United States. This is not a forecast rooted in patriotism or jingoism. It derives from our model that continues to view the United States as the pre-eminent power.
We do not forecast everything. We focus on the major trends and tendencies in the world. Thus, we see below some predictions from our 2010 Decade Forecast:
We see the U.S.-jihadist war subsiding. This does not mean that Islamist militancy will be eliminated. Attempts at attacks will continue, and some will succeed. However, the two major wars in the region will have dramatically subsided if not concluded by 2020. We also see the Iranian situation having been brought under control. Whether this will be by military action and isolation of Iran or by a political arrangement with the current or a successor regime is unclear but irrelevant to the broader geopolitical issue. Iran will be contained, as it simply does not have the underlying power to be a major player in the region beyond its immediate horizons.
The diversity of systems and demographics that is Europe will put the European Union's institutions under severe strain. We suspect the institutions will survive. We doubt that they will work very effectively. The main political tendency will be away from multinational solutions to a greater nationalism driven by divergent and diverging economic, social and cultural forces. The elites that have crafted the European Union will find themselves under increasing pressure from the broader population. The tension between economic interests and cultural stability will define Europe. Consequently, inter-European relations will be increasingly unpredictable and unstable.
Russia will spend the 2010s seeking to secure itself before the demographic decline really hits. It will do this by trying to move from raw commodity exports to process commodity exports, moving up the value chain to fortify its economy while its demographics still allow it. Russia will also seek to reintegrate the former Soviet republics into some coherent entity in order to delay its demographic problems, expand its market and above all reabsorb some territorial buffers. Russia sees itself as under the gun, and therefore is in a hurry. This will cause it to appear more aggressive and dangerous than it is in the long run. However, in the 2010s, Russia's actions will cause substantial anxiety in its neighbors, both in terms of national security and its rapidly shifting economic policies.
The states most concerned — and affected — will be the former satellite states of Central Europe. Russia's primary concern remains the North European Plain, the traditional invasion route into Russia. This focus will magnify as Europe becomes more unpredictable politically. Russian pressure on Central Europe will not be overwhelming military pressure, but Central European psyches are finely tuned to threats. We believe this constant and growing pressure will stimulate Central European economic, social and military development.
China's economy, like the economies of Japan and other East Asian states before it, will reduce its rate of growth dramatically in order to calibrate growth with the rate of return on capital and to bring its financial system into balance. To do this, it will have to deal with the resulting social and political tensions.
From the American point of view, the 2010s will continue the long-term increase in economic and military power that began more than a century ago. The United States remains the overwhelming — but not omnipotent — military power in the world, and produces 25 percent of the world's wealth each year.