Middle East crisis live: Israel-Lebanon talks begin in Washington as conflict continues
We have an early image of the ambassadors of Israel and Lebanon ahead of a new round of direct talks in Washington:
My father, the German refugee who fought the Nazis as a ‘secret listener’
When the Nazis came to power in Germany in January 1933, Fritz Lustig, my father, was a 13-year-old schoolboy growing up in Berlin. He was a budding musician with dreams of becoming a professional cellist but, by the time he left school four years later, it was clear that under the Nazis, even though his family had largely cast aside their Jewish heritage, his options were going to be extremely limited. Neither he, nor any of his anxious relatives, could possibly imagine the scale of the horrors that lay in store – but after the anti-Jewish pogrom of Kristallnacht in 1938, it was impossible to ignore the gathering storm clouds. So, like millions of young men before him and since, he decided that his future lay away from home, and in April 1939, two weeks after his 20th birthday, he became a refugee, arriving by boat in Southampton, his beloved cello clutched firmly at his side. An unaccompanied male of fighting age, seeking asylum and hoping for a chance of a better life. Sound familiar? Admittedly, he didn’t clamber ashore after having risked his life crossing the Channel in an inflatable rubber dinghy. But he was a foreigner, with a foreign accent and no qualifications other than his school leaving certificate. He was the sort of undesirable alien referred to by a London magistrate, and quoted approvingly in the Daily Mail, in 1938: “The way stateless Jews and Germans are pouring in from every port of this country is becoming an outrage …” Then, as now, the outrage was unwarranted. In the years leading up to the second world war, between 70,000 and 80,000 Jewish refugees were allowed into the UK. But up to 10 times as many were refused entry. Among them was my maternal grandmother, who was shot by a Nazi execution squad in 1941. While researching my family history, I have frequently been struck by the parallels between the experiences of the 1930s refugees from Germany and Austria and those arriving on our shores today. Whereas in the 30s, Jewish refugees were often demonised as work-shy Bolsheviks or worse, today’s refugees from countries such as Sudan, Eritrea, Afghanistan and Iran are portrayed as potential Islamist terrorists. There is nothing new about fear of the foreigner. In July 1940, the police came looking for my father, as he knew they would, even though he was in Britain perfectly legally. The Nazis had swept through Europe and were threatening a cross-Channel invasion from northern France. Churchill feared that there might be secret Nazi sympathisers among the UK’s refugees and issued his notorious order to “collar the lot”. My father was arrested and shipped off to the Isle of Man, where he was held as an “enemy alien” in an internment camp behind barbed wire. The camp was, in reality, a parade of sea-front hotels and guesthouses, remarkably like the hotels used to accommodate asylum-seekers today – and the first thing my father did when he got there was volunteer to join the British army. It took just six weeks for his application to be approved, and while he was waiting, he and other detained refugee musicians entertained their fellow prisoners with a series of impromptu concerts. So here’s a “what if?” question. Suppose some of today’s unaccompanied, male refugees of fighting age were offered the opportunity to join the UK’s armed forces instead of languishing in hotels or on unused military bases. Would some of them be tempted? Even if the UK, fortunately, is not facing the threat of invasion from a fascist army on the European mainland, might this be a way to fill some of the forces’ recruitment shortfall? And if that is a step too far, how about recruiting asylum seekers to become builders’ apprentices, just as my father was back in 1939 as a condition of his visa? (Somewhere on the A1307, just outside Cambridge, there still stands a house that he helped to build.) It is no secret, after all, that the British construction industry is desperately short of labour, and the government is already planning to invest £600m to train up to 60,000 engineers, bricklayers, electricians and carpenters. Why not use some of the money to train asylum seekers? My father’s career as a builder was short-lived. Once war was declared, housebuilding came to a standstill, and he ended up working first as a cleaner in various Cambridge colleges, and then as a gardener at a school in the East Midlands, which is where the police found him. Once he had been released from internment and had enrolled in the British army, where he spent three years playing his cello in an army orchestra – not his idea of how he could best contribute to the defeat of the Nazis – my father was recruited into a top-secret military intelligence unit, eavesdropping on the bugged conversations of German prisoners of war and picking up invaluable nuggets of intelligence. It was quite a leap from when he had been classified as an enemy alien and labelled a potential threat to the UK’s national security. It was also, according to the second world war historian Helen Fry, who has written extensively about the unit, “the biggest bugging operation ever mounted against the enemy in British history.” The unit’s commanding officer, Lt Col Thomas Kendrick, a long-serving MI6 spymaster, told my father that the work he was doing as a “secret listener”, spending endless hours with headphones clamped to his ears, listening out for the prisoners’ indiscretions (“The interrogator wanted to know all about our secret missile development programme at Peenemünde, but of course I didn’t tell them a thing …”) would be a lot more important than if he was firing a gun or fighting on the frontline. Which turned out not to be an exaggeration, as it was careless prison cell talk about the “secret weapons” being developed at Peenemünde that enabled the RAF to unleash Operation Hydra against the Nazis’ V1 flying bombs – known as doodlebugs – in August 1943. As soon as the war was over, my father became a British citizen. By definition, therefore, and in law, he was now British. But was he? Really? With a German name and a German accent? Not according to today’s ethno-nationalists, who argue that in order to qualify as a real Briton, you must be able to trace your good yeoman ancestry back for several generations. According to Charlie Downes, spokeperson of Restore Britain, a far-right party that is backed by Elon Musk and makes Nigel Farage’s Reform UK look like a bunch of wishy-washy liberals: “Britain is a people defined by indigenous British ancestry and Christian faith.” Which rules out, just to take a few random examples, Zia Yusuf of Reform UK, whose parents were immigrants from Sri Lanka; Rishi Sunak, whose Indian-origin parents were immigrants from east Africa; Kemi Badenoch, whose parents came to the UK from Nigeria; and deputy prime minister David Lammy, whose parents were from Guyana. It would also rule me out, born and brought up in Britain, with two immigrant parents, and speaking with an impeccable BBC accent. Were my parents somehow less British, however valuable their wartime work might have been (my mother, Susan, another refugee, also worked for MI19, the “secret listener” unit, which is where she met my father), just because they celebrated Christmas, as Europeans, on Christmas Eve rather than Christmas Day? Where do you draw the line between honouring your family’s cultural and religious traditions and adopting the traditions of your new home country? Are my British-born Greek Cypriot friends somehow less British because their children learned Greek? Are British Muslims less British because they mark Ramadan? My father’s family had a long history of assimilation. His own parents were married in a non-religious wedding in 1903, and he and his three siblings had all been confirmed into the Lutheran church. No surprise, then, that when my brother and I appeared on the scene in the years after after the second world war, neither of us was taught to speak German. What mattered most to our parents was that we should fit in, indistinguishable from our “ethnically British” friends. My father wrote in his privately published memoir: “However much I have tried to acclimatise and integrate during the 77 years I have been in the UK, I will always be somebody of central European origin, quite apart from my accent. Unless you were born and grew up in this country, you will never be an Englishman, and nobody will call you that. But all the same, I call Britain my ‘home country’, as I feel at home here, and I am glad this is where I lived my life.” So determined was he to “acclimatise and integrate” that he tried for a time to change his given name at his place of work from Fritz to Frank, painfully aware that for many Britons, Fritz was the generic, derogatory name they gave to their wartime enemy. I still have vivid memories of my 1950s schoolmates zooming around the school playground, arms outstretched as they pretended to be heroic RAF Battle of Britain pilots and shouting: “Take that, Fritz, you filthy Hun …” My father’s attempted name change didn’t last long – all his musician friends had always known him as Fritz and it got too confusing when his work world and his music world collided – and he was never tempted to go the whole hog and change his family name as well. (One Australian branch of the family did become Lusty, which he regarded as even worse than the original. I will always be grateful to him for his good sense.) For much of his adult life, my father could have been best described as self-effacing, and happy to stay in the shadows (except when playing his cello) and let his far more outgoing wife do the talking. But, when I got married in 1980, he made a witty, well-received speech to our guests and finally decided that his, by now, slight German accent was no longer an impediment to revealing more of himself. And, when the details of his secret wartime work were revealed 20 years later, there was no stopping him. As one of the last surviving secret listeners, he was constantly being interviewed on radio and television. “You know me,” he said, when I queried whether he was perhaps doing too much. “I’ll talk to anyone.” His last TV interview was broadcast the day after he died in 2017 at the age of 98. His death was reported by the BBC and marked by obituaries in the Guardian and the Times. Not quite up there, perhaps, with fellow refugees such as Albert Einstein, the Google co-founder Sergey Brin, Freddie Mercury, Marc Chagall or Madeleine Albright – but one more refugee, nonetheless, who made a lasting contribution to the countries that granted them sanctuary. • And the Cello Came Too: A Story of Survival by Robin Lustig is published by Marble Hill Publishers (£20) • Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here
Barnaby Joyce rallies anti-abortion activists ahead of tight NSW vote
One Nation’s Barnaby Joyce has joined pro-life campaigners to pile pressure on Nationals MPs to vote to criminalise some abortions ahead of a tight vote in New South Wales. Anti-abortion activists have threatened to campaign for One Nation against major parties to force new limits on terminating pregnancies on the back of its polling surge. Introduced to chants of “Nats must act,” Joyce addressed a rally against “sex-selective” abortions outside NSW parliament on Tuesday night. “You must keep that fire burning for those people who can’t stand up for themselves, and I call them people, they’re not foetuses,” Joyce said. “They are people.” “Politically, does this make you popular? Nup, nup. Probably lose half the votes every time you do it. But you know why you do it? Because it’s the right thing to do.” He encouraged the crowd to campaign against sitting politiciansn on abortion. ‘The one thing politicians fear is losing their job,” Joyce said. “They’re very mindful of that. What I see before me here is about 1,500 people who can hand out how to vote cards.” Dr Joanna Howe, who organised the rally and invited Joyce, told the crowd the four Nationals members of the NSW upper house were the only people standing in the way of the bill being approved. It would still need lower house approval to become law. “We are so close to passing the first-ever pro-life bill through a house of parliament this country has ever seen,” Howe said. “The message to the Nats is: if the Nats don’t pass this bill, then One Nation is going to take your seats … If you don’t vote for this bill, Barnaby’s coming for you.” The bill, moved by the Libertarian upper house member, John Ruddick, is a ban only on sex-selective abortion. Howe told the crowd that bill would be just the start of the legislative campaign. “Business has changed,” she said. “Every year in this state, we will introduce a bill until we protect all the babies.” She told Guardian Australia she next planned to lobby for a ban on late-term abortions. Howe said Tuesday’s Sydney rally was her biggest pro-life rally yet and she planned to organise grassroots campaigns in every Nationals-held seat ahead of NSW’s state election in March 2027. “Because there will now be One Nation candidates in those seats, we know that we can unseat pro-abortion Labor people, pro-abortion Liberal people and pro-abortion Nationals,” she said. Speakers addressed Tuesday’s crowd from a truck with handpainted banners of two foetuses captioned “Emma and Ruth”, the names Howe attached to an image of what she thought were foetuses but were actually baby sugar gliders. A counter-protest of about 150 people assembled nearby in Martin Place, where a University of Sydney student, Lucy, originally from the US, warned eight states had introduced sex-selective abortion bans like that being considered in NSW before Roe v Wade was overturned in 2022. “They were able to get way with it in America and then they kept going bill by bill, chipping away at abortion rights, chipping away at freedom, until one day, we woke up and our bodies were apparently no longer ours to control,” Lucy said. The NSW bill is the latest in a series of attempts to wind back abortion access since it was decriminalised in all states and territories almost three years ago. The bill will be debated in NSW’s upper house on Wednesday and go to a vote in coming days, and, if passed, go to the lower house. No party has a majority in either house and Labor, Liberal and National MPs have been granted conscience votes on the issue. Alex Greenwich, the independent lower house MP, said the vote would be tight, made worse by the suspension of a Labor minister, Penny Sharpe. “Mark Latham and [Liberal] Damien Tudehope now control the upper house,” Greenwich said. “As such anything can happen.”
EU accused of creating ICE-style immigration enforcement system
EU politicians have promised to increase deportations of undocumented migrants, under a new law that critics say mimics elements of the Trump administration’s brutal immigration crackdown. Finalising a key element of an overhauled EU asylum and migration system, politicians have agreed a regulation that will enable national authorities to raid people’s homes to enforce deportation orders. People facing a deportation order who are deemed to be uncooperative or a flight risk could be detained for up to two years, extendable to 30 months, compared with the 18-month detention period under existing law. Those who refuse to comply with a deportation order could have benefits or other allowances cut. The regulation will also enable the creation of offshore return hubs, centres outside the EU where undocumented people would be held for unspecified periods, pending return to their home country. Several EU countries are in talks with countries, mostly in Africa, to create return hubs, although no agreements have been announced. The text agreed in three-way talks on Monday between the main EU institutions – the European Council, the European parliament and European Commission – will enable the search of people’s homes “or other relevant premises” and seizure of personal belongings in order to ensure compliance with a deportation order. Detention will be permitted for unaccompanied minors and families with children, “as a measure of last resort” and “for the shortest appropriate period taking into account the best interests of the child”, said a press release from the European parliament. People deemed a security risk could face a lifetime ban on entering the EU, in comparison with the current 10-year maximum ban. The EU hopes the measures will increase deportations of people denied the right to asylum, those who have overstayed their visa or have no residency rights. Currently only about 20% of people with no right to stay in the EU are successfully returned to their home countries. EU officials hailed the law as an important step in the bloc’s migration management. “With the new rules, we have more control over who can come to the EU, who can stay and who needs to leave,” said Magnus Brunner, the European commissioner for migration, who drafted the original proposals. Critics accused the EU of copying practices of the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which under the second Trump presidency has embarked on a harsh and violent crackdown of undocumented migrants. Mélissa Camara, a Green MEP, said the text “weakens procedural rights, extends lengths of detention and endorses ICE practices by allowing authorities to conduct home raids”. The agreement became possible after the centre-right European People’s party (EPP) voted with far-right groups in the European parliament in March to push through more stringent measures on returning undocumented people. Before the parliament shifted rightwards in 2024 European elections, it had traditionally acted as a brake on the tougher instincts of EU member states. Welcoming the deal, Regina Doherty, an EPP lawmaker from Ireland, said: “This agreement is not about people who have come to Europe legally, those who are working, studying or contributing to our communities, nor is it about people who have been granted international protection. It is about creating a common European system for dealing with cases where a person has gone through the legal process and has been found not to have the right to remain.” She said there was “too much misinformation” about migration, with complex issues reduced “to slogans, outrage and false claims”. Silvia Carta, an advocacy officer at the Brussels-based Platform for Cooperation on Undocumented Migrants, said the law would “expose hundreds of thousands of people to harm and violence – from locking people up in immigration detention for up to 30 months to tearing families apart and sending people to countries they don’t even know”. She added: “Across the Atlantic, we see the violence and fear created by ICE’s brutal immigration enforcement. Europe should be learning from the harms of that model, not building its own version of it.” The law on returns, which will be rubber stamped by the EU Council and parliament, caps a lengthy overhaul of asylum and migration procedures, launched in 2020 in an effort to avoid a repeat of the 2015 migration crisis, when 1.3 million people – many from war-torn Syria and Afghanistan – sought refuge in Europe.
Nightclub promoter, 21, stabbed to death after brawl in Dublin’s tourism district
A brawl in the heart of Dublin’s tourism district led to a nightclub promoter being chased and stabbed to death. It happened at about 3am on Monday after a gig ended in the Grafton Street area of the city centre that is popular with tourists. Qayyum Balogun, 21, was chased and stabbed on nearby Clarendon Street after a clash between rival groups, police said. He was taken to St James’s hospital where he was pronounced dead. Sections of the shopping district remained closed on Monday as forensic teams examined the area. Balogun was reportedly from Nigeria and promoted music gigs in the city centre. Police believe the dispute started in a venue and spilled on to the street. The Irish Independent reported that a female bystander who was not connected to rival groups sustained stab wounds that were not life threatening. Irish police are reviewing CCTV footage and awaiting the results of a postmortem examination. They have appealed for witnesses. The justice minister, Jim O’Callaghan, offered condolences to Balogun’s family. Father John Grennan, the prior of St Teresa’s Carmelite church on Clarendon Street, voiced his shock at the death. “I want to offer our compassion and prayers for what happened here,” he told RTÉ. Rory Hogan, a Fianna Fáil councillor, said the violence was deeply disturbing. “Incidents like these have profound impacts not only on the victim’s family but also on the wider communities.” However, Hogan added that crime rates in Ireland’s capital had fallen and the city was safer than it used to be. “We need to be sure to separate the emotional reaction to an incident like this to the overall statistics,” he said. National murder rates fell by a quarter last year. Police are also investigating a separate incident in which a man in his 30s entered the River Liffey after being assaulted on Saturday night in the Islandbridge area of Dublin. He was pronounced dead on Sunday. Business owners in the Temple Bar area say lawlessness and anti-social behaviour increased during the Covid lockdowns but that increased policing in recent years had improved security.
‘Not the deal promised’: Labor’s Ed Husic questions Aukus pact that will deliver secondhand subs
Australia needs a backup plan for the Aukus submarine agreement, Labor MP Ed Husic has warned, arguing sluggish US production and the “transactional nature” of the Trump administration have put the multibillion-dollar defence deal at risk. The defence minister, Richard Marles, this week agreed to US requests for Australia to accept three second-hand Virginia-class nuclear submarines, rather than a combination of new and old vessels. Husic spoke out during Labor caucus on Tuesday in what former Labor minister Kim Carr described as an “courageous” intervention. It was the most significant internal criticism of the $368bn deal – agreed by the Morrison government in 2021 and endorsed by the then-Labor opposition – since heated debate at the ALP national conference three years ago. Labor ultimately continued its support of the multi-decade pact. Husic said production rates of submarines in the US were too low for Australia to realistically expect boats to be handed over in the early 2030s. The deal requires the sitting US president to agree to release submarines based on the US having an adequate supply for its own navy, even though Australia is paying to boost production. “We need to be open as a nation that we are not going to get the deal that was promised to us,” Husic said. “Given how transactional the Trump administration is, you can almost imagine them saying ‘we give you these, you will do this with them’, and so there’s an active sovereignty question there. “It won’t be a renegotiation; it’s a reality about the production rates and whether or not we’ll get them. What’s the contingency? What’s the plan B?” US shipyards currently produce between 1.1 and 1.2 Virginia-class submarines each year, well below the target yearly rate of 2.33 needed for the deal to go ahead as planned. Husic said there was disquiet about Aukus within the wider party rank and file. He suggested Marles had been forced by the US to say he was happy about the new arrangements after weekend talks with his counterpart, Pete Hegseth, in Singapore. “There’s an issue about [the] reality … confronting us, about whether or not we will even get the new deal that has been put to us based on what’s happening in the US,” Husic said. The former cabinet minister was dumped in a factional deal orchestrated by Marles after the 2025 election. He is close to the former prime minister Paul Keating, one of the loudest critics of the Aukus plan. The shadow defence minister, James Paterson, said Husic’s intervention represented a “full-on Labor revolt”. Paterson demanded Marles pull his colleague into line and reaffirm the government’s commitment to Aukus. Sign up for the Breaking News Australia email “It’s absolutely legitimate to ask questions about how this government is going about delivering Aukus, about the details of Aukus,” the Liberal MP said. “What is much more concerning is to have a former cabinet minister still in the Labor caucus questioning the merits of Aukus altogether.” Paterson questioned why secondhand submarines would be cheaper and easier to operate, as claimed by Marles. “If that was the case, why wasn’t this the optimal pathway three years ago,” he said. At Senate estimates on Tuesday night, the defence secretary, Meghan Quinn, revealed it was always Australia’s preference to purchase secondhand vessels from the US, prompting Paterson to question if the original arrangement had been “imposed” on the Albanese government. After meetings on the sidelines of the Shangri-La Dialogue on Sunday, Marles said servicing and training efforts would be streamlined because Australian crews would not operate two different American-made submarines before the bespoke SSN Aukus model comes online in 2042. The first Virginia-class from the US was due to arrive in Australia in 2032, with another arriving every four years, before the Australian-built model was ready for operations. The former Labor industry minister and long-time Aukus critic Kim Carr praised Husic for breaking ranks. “Aukus commits Australia to an extremely expensive, high-risk, long-term military project that deepens dependence on an increasingly erratic US, while delivering uncertain strategic benefits decades into the future,” Carr told Guardian Australia. Husic’s comments come on the same day former Labor minister Peter Garrett was announced as the head of a public inquiry into Aukus, backed by unions and non-profit groups. Former West Australian Labor premier Carmen Lawrence and former defence force chief Chris Barrie were among the commissioners chosen for the inquiry, which is not a parliamentary review. Garrett said there had been no proper parliamentary scrutiny of the deal, calling it “the most momentous and expensive decision ever made by any Australian government in the modern era.” Opposition to Aukus continues to harden in the wider Labor movement, setting the stage for an internal fight at the party’s upcoming national conference in Adelaide. A motion calling on the Albanese government to review the security pact last month won support in the Victorian branch for the second year in a row. The grassroots Labor Against War action group is pushing to strip all references to Aukus from the national platform, which is up for debate at the July conference. The group’s submission to consultation on the draft platform, seen by Guardian Australia, seeks to insert a reference to the “illegal US-Israel war on Iran” and guarantee that Labor would not commit military forces to an armed conflict that is “not consistent with international law”. The treasurer, Jim Chalmers, said on Tuesday that Labor remained committed to delivering Aukus. Arthur Rorris, the secretary of the South Coast Labour Council, which opposes the establishment of a nuclear submarine base at Port Kembla, said the proposed base was never intended for Australian submarines but “would be ceded to the United States navy as a staging post for their 7th fleet”. “Building submarines for Australia was never at the top of Washington’s agenda; establishing a base for their forever wars certainly is,” Rorris said on the weekend. • Additional reporting by Ben Doherty
Denmark’s Mette Frederiksen to lead four-party coalition after months of uncertainty
Denmark’s new government is preparing to formally present its political programme after Mette Frederiksen negotiated a third consecutive term as prime minister, this time at the head of a four-party, left-leaning minority coalition. Announced late on Monday, the agreement between Frederiksen’s Social Democrats, the Social Liberals, the Green Left and the centrist Moderates ended two months of uncertainty after March elections in which 12 parties won seats in parliament. “I have been to see his majesty the king and announced that a government can be formed after long negotiations,” Frederiksen told reporters, adding that the coalition’s plans would be “good for people now living in Denmark and for future generations”. Her office said she was meeting other party leaders at the prime minister’s official residence on Tuesday and would outline the government’s key policies by the end of the day, with the full cabinet lineup to be unveiled on Wednesday. The new government marks a shift to the left for Frederiksen, who for the past four years has headed an unlikely left-right alliance. It will rely mainly on the far-left Red-Green Alliance for a majority but can also seek backing from other parties. It was formed only after Frederiksen – whose Social Democrats registered their lowest score since 1903 in the election but remained by far the biggest party with 38 seats in the 179-seat parliament – tried but failed to cobble together a left-leaning alliance. The former defence minister Troels Lund Poulsen, the leader of the liberal Venstre party, then tried to put together a right-leaning coalition, also without success, before the king reappointed Frederiksen for a further attempt. The coalition talks were the longest in Denmark’s history and analysts have said the evident difficulty in forming the government, as well as a series of scandals that have weakened Frederiksen since she became prime minister in 2019, may mean it does not survive its full term. Frederiksen, 48, told reporters on Monday that Denmark was “one of the most solid democracies in the world”, adding: “If we political leaders cannot manage to carry out this task, I don’t know what the Danish people can expect of us.” In municipal elections in November 2025, her party – traditionally Denmark’s biggest – finished second and lost nearly half of the municipalities it controlled, including the capital, Copenhagen. But her popularity surged early this year when she stood up to Donald Trump over the US president’s threats to annex Greenland, a Danish near-autonomous territory that he insists Washington needs to control for national security reasons. Frederiksen warned in January that a US takeover of Greenland would amount to the end of Nato, but the crisis eased after Trump backed down, and officials from Denmark, Greenland and the US are now in talks on an Arctic security deal. Born into a working-class family of longstanding Social Democrats, the daughter of a typographer and a preschool teacher, Frederiksen entered parliament in 2001 aged 24 and took over as leader of the Social Democrats in 2015. She has radically tightened Denmark’s migration policy in an effort to slow rising support for the far right, while advocating stronger international commitments including staunch support for Ukraine and a huge hike in national defence spending. Besides further Greenland diplomacy and defence spending measures, the government is expected to take steps on major campaign issues including the rising cost of living, pensions and a potential wealth tax, as well as animal rights amid growing public concern over Denmark’s booming pig farming sector. Frederiksen has said the new government’s policy platform will address the needs of “the people who are in Denmark and for the generations to come and also for the animals”.