Das syrische Militär hat die syrische Stadt Hama - eines der Zentren der Proteste - mit Panzern gestürmt. Menschenrechtsgruppen gehen von mindestens 45 Toten aus.
"Whereas Eritrean support to foreign armed opposition groups has in the past been limited to conventional military operations, the plot to disrupt the African Union summit in Addis Ababa in January 2011, which envisaged mass casualty attacks against civilian targets and the strategic use of explosives to create a climate of fear, represents a qualitative shift in Eritrean tactics."
In one account, a male guard who could not bear his hunger killed his colleague using an ax, ate some of the human flesh and sold the remainder in the market by disguising it as mutton, the report said, without giving any further details such as when the alleged crime occurred.
Your Majesties,Dear Eskil,Dear all of you,
It is nearly two days since Norway was hit by the worst atrocity it has seen since the Second World War. On Utøya, and in Oslo. It seems like an eternity.These have been hours, days and nights filled with shock, despair, anger and weeping.
Today is a day for mourning. Today, we will allow ourselves to pause. Remember the dead. Mourn those who are no longer with us. 92 lives have been lost. Several people are still missing. Every single death is a tragedy. Together they add up to a national tragedy. We are still struggling to take in the scale of this tragedy.
Many of us know someone who has been lost. Even more know of someone. I knew several.
One of them was Monica. She worked on Utøya for 20 years or so. For many of us she was Utøya. Now she is dead. Shot and killed while providing care and security for young people from all over the country. Her husband John and daughters Victoria and Helene are in Drammen Church today.
It is so unfair. I want you to know that we are weeping with you.
Another is Tore Eikeland. Leader of the Labour Youth League in Hordaland and one of our most talented young politicians. I remember him being met with acclaim by the whole Labour national congress when he gave a stirring speech against the EU Postal Directive, and won the debate. Now he is dead. Gone for ever. It is incomprehensible.
These are two of those we have lost.
We have lost many more on Utøya and in the government offices. We will soon have their names and pictures. Then the full extent of this evil act will become apparent in all its horror. This will be a new ordeal.
But we will get through this too.
Amidst all this tragedy, I am proud to live in a country that has managed to hold its head up high at a critical time. I have been impressed by the dignity, compassion and resolve I have met. We are a small country, but a proud people.
We are still shocked by what has happened, but we will never give up our values. Our response is more democracy, more openness, and more humanity. But never naivity. No one has said it better than the Labour Youth League girl who was interviewed by CNN:
“If one man can create that much hate, you can only imagine how much love we as a togetherness can create.”
Finally, I would like to say to the families all over the country who have lost one of their loved ones: You have my and the whole of Norway’s deepest sympathy for your loss. Not only that. The whole world shares your sorrow.
I have promised to pass on the condolences of Barack Obama, Vladimir Putin, Frederik Reinfeldt, Angela Merkel and many other heads of state and government. This cannot make good your loss. Nothing can bring your loved ones back. But we all need support and comfort when life is at its darkest. Now life is at its darkest for you.
I want you to know that we are there for you.
Hell on Utøya
I woke up. I cannot sleep any more. I'm sitting in the living room. Feeling grief, anger, happiness, God, I do not know what. There are too many emotions. There are too many thoughts. I'm afraid. I react to the slightest sound. I will write about what happened on Utøya.
What my eyes saw, what I felt, and what I did. The words come straight from the gut, but I will anonymize many names out of respect for my friends.
We had a crisis meeting in the main building after the explosions in Oslo. After that there was a meeting for members of Akershus [a county bordering the capital] and Oslo. After the meetings there were many, many people around and inside the main building. We consoled ourselves that we were safe on an island. No one knew that hell would break out with us too.
I was standing in the main street [of the island] when panic broke out. I heard shots. I saw him shoot. Everyone started to run.
The first thought was: "Why are the police shooting us? What the hell? "I ran into a little room. Everyone ran. Screamed. I was scared. I managed to get into one of the rooms at the back of the building. There were many of us in there. We all lay on the floor together. We heard several shots. We became more afraid. I cried. I knew nothing.
I saw my best friend through the window and wondered if I should go outside and bring him to me. I did not. I saw fear in his eyes. We were lying on the floor inside the room for a few minutes. We agreed not to move out in case the killer came.
We heard several shots and decided to jump out the window. Panic broke out among us. Everyone in the room rushed to the window and tried to jump out. I was the last and thought: "I am the last to jump out the window. Now I'm going to die. I'm sure, but it might be okay and then I will know that the others are safe."
I threw my bag out the window. I tried to climb down, but lost my grip. I landed hard on the left side of my body. A boy helped me up. We ran into the woods. I looked around. "Is he here? Is he shooting me? Can he see me?"
A girl had a broken ankle. Another was severely injured. I tried to help a little bit before I went down to the water.
I sought cover behind a sort of brick wall. There were many of us. I prayed, prayed, prayed. I hope that God saw me. I called Mum and said that it was not certain we would meet again, but that I would do anything to stay safe.
I said several times that I loved her. I heard fear in her voice. She cried. It hurt. I sent a text message to my dad telling him I loved him. I sent a text message to another person I am very, very close to. We had a little contact. I sent a text message to my best friend. He did not answer. We heard several shots.
We were snuggled together. We did everything we could to keep warm. There were so many thoughts. I was so scared. My dad called me. I cried and said I loved him. He said he and my brother would go to welcome me when I reached the mainland, or they would come to the island. There were so many emotions. So many thoughts. I told him everything I could. It took some time. We switched to texting for fear that the killer would hear us.
I thought of my sister who is away. How I would tell her how it went? What happened to me. I updated Twitter and Facebook to say I was still alive and that I was "safe".
I wrote that I was waiting for the police. People jumped into the water and started swimming. I was lying down. I decided that if he came, I would play dead. I would not run or swim. I cannot describe the fear that took over my mind, what I felt.
A man came. "I'm from the police." I was lying there. Some shouted back that he had to prove it. I do not remember exactly what he said, but the killer started shooting. He charged. He shot those around me. I was still lying there. I thought: "Now it's over. He's here. He's going to shoot me. I'm going to die."
People screamed. I heard that others were shot. Others jumped into the water. I was there. Holding the mobile phone in my hand, I lay on top of a girl's legs. Two others lay on my feet. I was still lying there. The mobile phone rang several times. I was still lying. I played dead. I lay there for at least an hour. It was completely quiet. I gently turned her head to see if I could see someone alive. I looked like around. I saw blood. Fear. I decided to get up. I had been lying on top of a dead body. Two dead bodies lay on me. I had a guardian angel.
I did not know if he would come back again. I did not have the courage to look at all those who had called and texted me. I hurried down to the water. I took off my sweater. It was large. I thought it would be difficult to swim with it. I considered whether I should bring my mobile phone or leave it again.
I put it in my back pocket and jumped into the water. I saw several others in the water. They had swum far. I saw that someone had gathered around a floating lifeboat or something like that.
There were many who followed those who swam out.
I swam, swam, and swam towards the inflatable boat. I screamed, wept. I was calm. I thought of when I would drown. It became harder and harder. I questioned myself. I kept swimming.
My arms were tired. I decided just to use my legs legs to swim.
I sank. I started to swim normally again.
After a little while I thought the group who were clinging on to the dinghy were moving away from me. I screamed. Begged them to wait for me. I must have seen visions. I swam at least a few hundred metres before I reached them.
We talked a little together. Who we were, where we came from. When the boats passed us we started shouting for help, but they picked up the others who were still swimming.
A man in a boat came to us. He threw out several life jackets. I got hold of one. Got it on me. I held on to the dinghy for a long time, until the same man came back to pick us up. We all got into it. He began to head towards the shore. After a little while his boat started to take in water. I did everything I could to get as much water out as possible.
I used a bucket. I was exhausted. Another girl in the boat took over. We reached the shore.
We were given blankets. The tears would not stop. I cried more. A woman hugged me. It was so good. I wept aloud. I sobbed. A man lent me his phone. I called my dad, "I'm alive. I made it. Now I am safe."
I hung up. Cried more. We had to walk a bit. Completely unknown people took us into their cars and drove us to the Sundvollen hotel. I ran in to see if I could see my best friend.
I could not find him anywhere.
I saw a friend. I cried, loudly. We hugged each other for a long time. It was good. I walked around, looking for friends. My heart pounded. I cried more. I gave my details to the police, then looked through all the lists. I did not know if my best friend was alive. I looked through all the lists. I could not find his name anywhere. I was scared.
I got a duvet. I took off my wet socks. I was half naked. Got a jacket. I tried to phone some people. Contacted my parents again. My dad and brother were on their way to fetch me. I drank some cocoa. I sat down. Thought. Wept. So many friends. I hugged them. Wept.
I borrowed a computer. Updated Facebook and Twitter again to say that I was safe. I was at the hotel for several hours before my family came.
I looked for familiar sights. I talked to a priest. I told them everything I had seen. It was a good conversation. A man from the Red Cross saw all my wounds. Cleaned them.
Time passed. I was with some of my friends. We all talked about the same things: how we survived and what had happened. I asked several if they had seen my best friend. No one had seen him. I was scared. I thought that it was my fault because we had not managed to stay together.
A friend got the key to a hotel room. We sat there, looked at the news. There was anger, sorrow, so many emotions. My dad called, they had come. I took the elevator down. Ran out to them. Hugged my brother and my dad a long time. I wept aloud. My brother was crying too. It was a good moment.
I saw a boy who looked like my best friend. I shouted his name. He turned around. It was him. We hugged each other for a long time . Both crying, we asked each other how we had managed.
After a while, I spoke again to the police and we drove home. Someone else came with us. My best friend was with me. His brother had brought his best friend.
Several people had gathered at my home. They would not leave until they had seen that I was fine. We talked a little bit. I drank juice. Ate a yogurt. Talked some more with my mum and my family. I called my best friend. It was a good conversation.
She said: "I was not sure if I would ever get this phone call." Tears started again. We talked a little bit. After that I lay down. It was 3am. Mum refused to let me sleep alone, so we slept together.
It has now been several hours since all this happened. I'm still in shock. Everything has not fallen into place.
I have seen the corpses of my friends. Several of my friends are missing. I am glad that I can swim. I am glad that I am alive. God watched over me. There are so many emotions, so many thoughts. I think of all my family. Of all I lost. Of the hell that is - and was - on the island.
This summer's most beautiful fairy tale is transformed into Norway's worst nightmare.
"People in labour camps are not looked upon as humans. They are enemies of the state who have no rights whatsoever. You could kill them with your own hands and nothing would happen to you."
“Thirty people have been confirmed to have died or gone missing until recently. About 10 partners of inter-Korean talks with the South were executed by firing and about 20 others were said to have died in traffic accidents.”
Nachdem Phnom Penh im April 1975 in die Hände der Roten Khmer gefallen ist, befindet sich Kambodscha drei Jahre lang in völliger Isolation. Die Roten Khmer machen mit ihrer Vergangenheit reinen Tisch: Das Terrorregime schließt alle Banken, jegliches Gewerbe ist verboten, auch Kinos gibt es nicht mehr.
Weder in der Hauptstadt noch sonst im Land finden Filmvorstellungen statt, aber die Roten Khmer drehten zahlreiche Propagandafilme zum Ruhm ihres Regimes. Doch an welches Publikum richten sich diese Inszenierungen, und wer hat sie gedreht?
Numerous, unconfirmed reports suggest that there is a country that exists called North Korea. Only a country that is so isolated from the rest of the world can earn itself the nickname, “The Hermit Kingdom,” which, incidentally, was the working title for my unauthorized autobiography. In fact, the country is so insulated from the rest of humanity that any attention-mongering athlete wishing to don a pair of sunglasses indoors at a club has been unable to verify whether Kim Jong-Il’s shades are Prada or RayBans. The horror.
Crackdown in Syria: Terror in Tell Kalakh documents deaths in custody, torture and arbitrary detention that took place in May when Syrian army and security forces mounted a broad security sweep, lasting less than a week, against residents of the town near the Lebanese border.