Students told to man production lines at Foxconn if they want to graduate, says Hong Kong-based nonprofit

Apple's factories in China are employing tens of thousands of students, some of them on forced internships, according to campaigners lobbying for better labour conditions at Foxconn plants, which assemble iPhones. Some students could be as young as 16.

The Foxconn chairman, Terry Gou, head of China's largest private-sector employer – with 1.2 million workers – promised on Sunday to reduce hours and improve pay after an independent audit found multiple labour law violations at his factories.

But campaigners have accused Apple, Foxconn and the Fair Labor Association (FLA), a charitable organisation that carried out the audit published on Friday, of ignoring the issue of forced internships, where students are told they will not graduate unless they spend months working on production lines during holidays.

In December, 1,500 students were sent by just one vocational college in Henan, China's most populous province, for internships at Foxconn's Zhengzhou plant, which Apple chief executive, Tim Cook, visited last week. The Yancheng Evening News, which exposed the practice, interviewed students who said they were going against their will and that their schools were acting as "labour agencies".

"The gross violation of forced internship was not addressed at all," said Debby Cheng, project officer of Students and Scholars Against Corporate Misbehaviour (Sacom), of the Foxconn audit. "They tried to water down the problem."

Students of nursing, languages, music and art are being corralled into internships of between three and six months, during which 10-hour days and seven-day weeks are not unusual, according to Sacom and a number of Chinese media reports, which claim colleges and universities are acting as employment agencies, sending their pupils to Foxconn not for relevant training, but to bolster the workforce during summer and winter holiday periods.

In the summer of 2010, when Foxconn was in crisis after several suicides among the workforce at its largest plant in Shenzhen, 100,000 vocational school students – mostly in their late teens – were sent from Henan for three months.

China Daily reported that some students at a vocational school in Henan's capital, Zhengzhou, were not told of the work until nine days before they were due to leave home. Teachers told students they must leave "as ordered by the provincial government" and that all those who refused would have to drop out of school.

The FLA found that at a peak period in August 2001, 5.7% of the labour force – some 68,000 workers – at Foxconn Group were interns. Its assessors found "interns worked both overtime and night shifts, violations of regulations governing internships".

The FLA, which described the hiring of interns as "the source of much controversy" and of "major concern to external stakeholders" in its Apple audit, has agreed measures to improve the treatment of students with Foxconn and Apple.

These include making sure the job relates to the intern's field of study, procedures allowing interns to resign so that they do not feel that they are working against their will, and publishing evaluations of internships, including an annual report.

The FLA found Foxconn hired an average of 27,000 interns a month, for an average tenure of three and a half months. It said the interns' working day should not exceed eight hours for five days a week, and they should never work seven days in a row.

But Sacom and the Guardian's own inquiries have confirmed that 10-hour days and six-day weeks are standard. The FLA said conditions for students were difficult to regulate because under Chinese law they were not defined as employees and no employment relationship exists between the factory and interns.

This meant some of Foxconn's most vulnerable workers were the least protected, with the FLA concluding "their employment status remains vague and represents a major risk".

"These students should be studying, but rather they now work 10 hours a day, six to seven days a week, taking on night shifts for months at a time, equivalent to adult workers," said Cheng. She criticised the audit for not highlighting the forced labour issue. "They tried to water down the problem. They used the word 'controversial' without mentioning that these students were forced to work at Foxconn."

Sacom was set up by Hong Kong academics to highlight working conditions at plants making toys for Disney when Hong Kong Disneyland opened in 2005. It has now expanded to focus on the electronics sector. In March, it issued a public letter to Cook calling on Apple to stop using student workers. It said: "Students who major in subjects such as pharmacy, tourism and language end up working as interns at Foxconn. Some students even complain that if they refuse the 'internship' at Foxconn, they will be forced to drop out of school. This is a form of involuntary labour, which is approved by Apple in producing its products."

On Sunday, Gou said at a business forum in Hainan province that he would address Foxconn's long-hours culture. "We are saying now in the company, 'You work fewer hours, but get more pay.'"

Foxconn, Apple and the FLA have not responded to requests for comment.

Visit could stoke tensions between Baghdad's Shia-led government and Sunni monarchies of the Gulf

Tariq al-Hashemi, the fugitive Iraqi vice-president, travelled to Qatar on Sunday on what the Gulf nation's state news agency called an official visit.

The visit marks Hashemi's first foreign trip since he fled to Iraq's semi-autonomous Kurdish region to avoid an arrest warrant issued in December, and could stoke tensions between Baghdad's Shia-led government and Sunni monarchies of the Gulf.

Hashemi is Iraq's highest-ranking Sunni official. Iraq accuses him of running death squads against Shia pilgrims, officials and security forces. He denies the charges, which he says are politically motivated.

Qatar protested at Baghdad's treatment of Iraq's Sunni minority by sending a mid-level official to an Arab League summit hosted by Iraq last week.

Other Sunni-led Gulf states, including Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, also snubbed Iraq by sending lower-level officials.

The Gulf states are wary of the close ties Iraq's government has forged with regional Shia powerhouse Iran, which they see as a rival.

Iraq's interior ministry demanded last month that Kurdish leaders arrest Hashemi before he could flee the country.

The semi-autonomous Kurdish region has its own security forces, which means Hashemi was out of reach of police in Baghdad.

Hashemi will stay for several days, the Qatar News Agency said. He was greeted on arrival by the minister of state, Sheikh Hamad bin Nasser bin Jassim al Thani, a member of Qatar's ruling family.

While there was no immediate response from Iraq's government, the high-level treatment is likely to irk authorities in Baghdad.

Hashemi's office said he planned to meet Qatar's emir and the prime minister during the visit.

The statement said he planned to visit additional unnamed countries during the trip before returning to Iraq's Kurdish region.

The city is one of 10 English cities to decide in May if they want a directly elected mayor rather than traditional council services

Plenty of bigger towns and cities in Britain would love to have Bristol's problems. Medieval tax records suggest it was up there with Norwich and York as one of the richest places in the country outside London. Tobacco and the slave trade have since come and gone. But the ancient port still thrives, along with high-end engineering, aerospace, a strong financial services sector and creative industries whose global superstars, Wallace and Gromit, were named-checked in George Osborne's budget.

It's still rich – and looks good despite its relatively mild recession, beating Zurich and Antwerp to a "best small city of the future" prize only last week. So why do coalition ministers in Whitehall think that Bristolians will vote yes on 3 May to their proposal – here and in nine other English cities – that they should replace the traditional council structure with a directly elected executive mayor like Boris Johnson in London, Mike Bloomberg in New York or colourful Bernard Delanoë, creator of the "Paris beach"?

"Ah, yes, but … " reply campaigners for an elected mayor, who rattle off a familiar list of complaints: congested streets and a hated bus company, too many poor schools, a sense of lost opportunities compared with near-rival Cardiff. In the 70-strong, culturally conservative council, a former Labour hegemony has given way to a pattern of "no overall control". Currently run by the Liberal Democrat Barbara Janke, a third of council seats are up for election three years in four. It is a recipe for insecurity of tenure, petty feuds and caution. "Whichever way you vote, the council wins," say critics.

"There is a chance of a mayor being foisted on Bristol – even though almost no one actually wants one," complains the local Lib Dem website. It does not deter the yes camp, the "usual suspects" among political and community activists, academics and business types whose frustration with existing town hall leadership make them look admiringly at can-do city bosses driving Europe and the US's most dynamic cities – from Berlin to Bordeaux, Chicago (which Barack Obama's mentor, Rahm Emanuel, now governs) and beyond.

"Bristol's problem is complacency. It's always been a moderately wealthy, fairly successful city which has not fought for stuff. That's why we have no major concert hall or sports stadium. It tootles along a bit," explains Paul Smith, a former Labour councillor. "Why don't we punch above our weight?" asks Jaya Chakrabarti, a live-wire who runs a city centre digital agency as well as the yes campaign ("I said yes to the dare").

"Bristol is a brilliant, wonderful place, historically diverse, architecturally diverse, culturally diverse. But the city has a history of compromising horribly," argues George Ferguson, a Bristol architect and civic activist. Though 65 last week, he is clearly tempted to stand as an independent if the 3 May ballot says yes. "It's quite possible a party candidate might win, but I detect an appetite for a more independent approach. Bristol could spring a surprise."

The Tories are officially pro-mayor, but local MPs and councillors in all parties are split on the issue, and the council's e-leaflet was officially neutral. It did not emulate Nottingham council, which recently spent £875 on "Does Nottingham need an elected mayor?" posters. The Bristol Evening Post is trying to stimulate a proper debate ("We want people to think about it," explains its editor, Mike Norton), but in a world where social networks allow people to chatter across continents, what Bristol lacks – like many places – is a vibrant local forum. "If we could run this campaign on Twitter it would be a done deal," says Chakrabarti.

Neither side has any money, so the micro-no campaign is run ("someone had to do it") by Tim Kent, a councillor in the ruling Lib Dem group. He represents some of the big post-war estates, private and council-owned, that characterise suburban Bristol and accentuate sharp social divisions between tough Hartcliffe and posh Clifton, between inner-city St Paul's (scene of the 1980 riots) and the fashionably renovated dockside cafes, galleries and creative businesses around the old harbour, just a mile or so south.

Kent knows as well as anyone that an elected mayor must engage the estates as well as the dealmakers sipping lattes in the down-town Watershed media centre with its free Wi-Fi. Sitting outside the imposing Council House – as the city hall is known – he enthuses about the council's plans to run fast buses right across the city to help poorer south Bristolians get to skilled, well-paid jobs in the centre or north. The regeneration of the Temple Quarter enterprise zone around Temple Meads station should create 17,000 creative industry jobs. Even in tough times, a lot is going on.

Bold or barmy

"Many of us would like a mayor with regional powers over transport and the economy. That's what the yes camp wanted. But it's not on offer from Whitehall," he says. Bristol and its three neighbouring authorities – South Gloucestershire, North Somerset and Bath, all of which eat into the core city area – used to be part of Avon until John Major abolished such counties in 1996. Old tensions persist and sceptics doubt the latest Tory blueprint – so many in 50 years of ceaseless reform – will solve much.

Kent accepts that critics respect Janke and other civic leaders, but feel the structure holds them back, making officials too powerful. Council leaders are usually compromise figures; mayors with a direct mandate can be bolder, more charismatic, critics say. "But what if we end up with a mayor who is bad or mad," one with pie-in-the-sky ideas that only a two-thirds vote of the council can check, counters Tim Kent.

It's a good question, but no charismatic candidate, bold or barmy, is yet visible, no Lord Heseltine or even brainy Lord Adonis, the other main mayor-booster at Westminster. The Lib Dem MP Stephen Williams? Interested, but unlikely. Labour's Tony "Baldrick" Robinson? Probably not. The architect George Ferguson with his trademark red trousers? Too posh for the estates. Other notable independents rule themselves out.

As for the city's great and good, they stand accused of sitting on the fence for fear of offending the council with which so many do business. Financial adviser Peter Hargreaves, who turned Hargreaves Lansdown from a bed-sit outfit in Clifton into a FTSE 100 company, may rage against the "useless" council, but does not reach for his cheque book.

If Bristol does vote yes ("on a 15% to 20% turnout at best – there are no council elections here this year", sceptics note), chances are that one of the council's old guard will win in November: Labour's choice, on current form. Yet Kent – who ran Bristol's Yes to AV campaign, which lost by 56%:44% here – fears that a low turnout combined with a confusing supplementary vote system just might deliver David Cameron a rare Bristol win in the shape of wily Peter Abraham, seventy-something leader of the Tory group, which has only 14 council seats.

That could create a different kind of nightmare. "The council is so poorly run, we need someone who understands running a business," says Dave Jeal, a church chaplain and activist in deprived Lockleaze. Marti Burgess, a mover and shaker who runs the Lakota nightclub in bohemian South Crofts (where local boy Banksy's influence can be seen on graffitied walls), insists that her friends will grab the chance at change in a neighbourhood whose anti-Tesco protests made national news last year.

Few Bristolians are that focused. A few metres from Lakota, a busy shopkeeper says: "I always try to vote to honour the suffragettes and I've heard of the mayor vote from Twitter. I'll probably vote no, it sounds like the usual suspects spending money than could go on frontline services." At least she's heard of the idea. On the 902 bus to Portbury, as among researchers eating their lunch outside Bristol university, the answer is usually a wary shake of the head. Enjoying the spring sunshine on Broad Quay, one old Bristolian says: "Did you say an electric mayor for Bristol, a high-tech one?" He laughs. But it may be no joke.

The Radio 4 presenter left Saturday Live for more family time, but now explains why she's returning with The Listening Project

When Fi Glover was an eager young radio trainee, one of her producers spotted a familiar face in an adjoining studio: Jeffrey Archer was preparing for his stint as a temporary replacement for Ken Bruce and the producer suggested that someone snatch an interview.

Glover volunteered and started off her questioning by pointing to recently published research that suggested his prose was worse than a Sun editorial. Archer, she recalls, tore her to shreds, called her a "jumped-up little prat" and reduced her – almost – to tears. Still, he was good enough to tell her (perhaps somewhat self-importantly) that this moment could be the "making" of her.

Now, nearly 20 years later, she is "made" and has returned to Radio 4 with The Listening Project, a joint initiative by the British Library and BBC, which started on Friday and aims "to capture the nation in conversation".

She is also famous for bringing what she knowingly describes as the "same level of emotional kookiness" to the rest of her work. This has included stints on Radio 5 Live's Sunday Service and Weekend Breakfast and most recently as the host of Radio 4's Saturday Live.

Getting Saturday Live right was, she believes, her greatest professional achievement to date, despite missing her final episode last April with pneumonia. When she started the show in 2006 it was compared, often unfavourably, to Home Truths, which had been dropped soon after its much-loved host John Peel had died.

Early Saturday Lives, she now admits, were too bitty, had too many parts, were "over-sentimental" and were ruined, she says, by her over-attentive script. "I used to joke how I put the Fi into Feedback," she jokes about the show's many critical appearances on the Radio 4 listeners' response programme.

It seems typical of Glover, that turn of phrase, making a calamity into a joke. But why leave, as she did a year ago? It's a question the former Radio 4 controller Mark Damazer asks her every time he sees her, she says.

But it seems that with two young children and a partner, Saturday mornings are too precious. "I will make no bones about it, I had been working shifts for 20 years – that's what you do on radio. The best shows are on at these very special times for you – they are fantastic for the listener but dreadful for you. Saturday Live was perfect for a working mum in many ways and I would have stretched my family life if I had had a normal life up until then, but I hadn't. There had been a lot of 3am shifts and for 10 of the past 20 years I have been working weekends."

What she calls her "leap" took much soul searching for herself and her partner, Rick, who works for Google:"I did think about my career: gosh, what have I done to it? If you have responsibilities outside work you have to balance them. But I am not weeping into my coffee on a Saturday morning telling myself I have done the wrong thing. I don't have a voodoo doll of [her replacement] Richard Coles that comes out every Saturday morning."

Her new show, The Listening Project, broadcast on Fridays and Sundays, hopes to provide an aural snapshot of the nation. "This is the first thing I have ever done that is trying to create a legacy – there will be an archive which is utterly brilliant."

She is also contributing to Radio 4's One to One series with a programme about digital entrepreneurs in Hackney and is also working on some other ideas of her own. "There are an awful lot of programmes on the radio that need to be filled," she notes.

Glover is enjoying the flexibility, and one reason she can do this, she believes, is radio's enviable record in deploying and retaining older women when compared to TV – a medium she believes "needs to get its house in order". Glover is clearly unafraid to wade into the thorny debate that has seen figures such as Anna Ford, Selina Scott and Lady Bakewell accuse broadcasters of banishing older women from the small screen.

Glover has a wealth of experience in this area, both as a broadcaster with the BBC and as a director of Sound Women, a lobby group intending to improve the profile of women in radio and to tackle some of the employment issues. "Most people who work in radio understand that what makes it work are experience, having a bright mind and being prepared to use it. These are things that are by no means diminished in women who are over the age of 50 – in fact I would say they get better and better.

"I am an older woman and want to see things on TV that are relevant to my life. You can understand how an ambitious producer is looking for the next big talent and that's younger people. But you must reflect the world. It needs saying more often. Women do not become hideous when their looks change… … I hope this is something that corrects itself."

For the moment she remains disturbed by Skillset's research on the relative lack of women over 35 in TV and radio, which she says "cannot be just about having kids … Women are not being promoted for one thing." She believes the BBC will change – "it's not an ostrich" – and needs to be given time to do so without offering work to every 60-year-old woman it can find. "If you were that woman and got that call you would know why people are ringing you all of a sudden and frankly it would be a bit insulting."

Bar a stint presenting BBC2's The Travel Show in the later 1990s she is rarely on screen herself, and is happy that way, saying she has "no real desire to be better known". It also doesn't help that she has been at the centre of prurient newspaper interest in her private life – when her marriage to the producer Mark Sandell ended after he started a relationship with her 5 Live colleague Victoria Derbyshire in 2004. On-air tensions were reported and newspapers pointed to her decision to leave the station and go to New York to write a book as evidence of a broken heart.

"It wasn't like that at all," she says, adding that the incident was "deeply unpleasant", now alive only in cutting files and "not in anybody's head". She adds:"I was amazed that a small piece of gossip would be turned into a huge thing like this. It was a long time ago and the situation has rectified itself and we have all found other people."

As for the future, she is "loving domesticity" and has no idea about when or if she will return to full-time radio work. But she does not envisage a future where she calls herself a mum without the word "working" before it. "I have never had a huge game plan. It depends on so many other things – who moves up, who the controllers are."

She loyally supports the direction in which current Radio 4 boss, Gwyneth Williams, is taking the station – more science and international coverage – but firmly believes this is the moment when people in charge of radio need to step up to the plate. "You could see a fragmentation of radio as a generation grows up that downloads and uses podcasts and totally circumnavigates the schedulers. You need incredible people like Gwyneth to keep people on track."

And of course, people such as Fi Glover waiting in the wings.

Micah True, whose extreme-distance running was detailed in book Born to Run, set out on jog on Tuesday but never returned

Searchers have found the body of renowned long-distance runner Micah True, who vanished four days earlier after heading out from a lodge for a morning run in the rugged wilderness near New Mexico's Gila National Forest.

The body was discovered at about 6pm in a remote, rugged area of the Gila Wilderness, the New Mexico state police said. The cause of death was still unknown, but there were no obvious signs of trauma, incident commander Tom Bemis told the Boulder Daily Camera.

True, 58, whose extreme-distance running prowess is detailed in the book Born to Run, set out on what – for him – would have been a routine 12-mile run on Tuesday from The Wilderness Lodge and Hot Springs, where he was staying. He left his dog at the lodge and never returned. A search began the day after.

Though daytime temperatures in south-west New Mexico have been mild of late, temperatures dipped into the mid-20s on recent nights. True left for his run wearing only shorts and a T-shirt and carrying a water bottle.

Michael Sandrock, a columnist who writes about running for the Daily Camera, knew True for at least 20 years and had run with him. He called True a pioneer of the sport of ultrarunning, which involves running extreme distances, often on gruelling terrain and many miles longer than the 26-mile (40km) marathon.

True, he said, had a rebellious spirit but never sought to draw attention to himself even as he became legendary for his talents, which included "just going up and running for hours and hours at a time".

"He's just authentic and genuine … Micah is a guy who follows his bliss," Sandrock said.

He described True as a "legend" among ultra runners.

True was the race director of the Copper Canyon Ultra Marathon, a 50-plus mile race in Urique, Mexico, last month.

He was featured in articles in running magazines and was a central character – known by his nickname, "Caballo Blanco" – in Christopher McDougall's non-fiction bestseller "Born to Run."

McDougall said he based his book on the first Copper Canyon marathon that True organised.

"It's heartbreaking because there was this unique, wonderful running party he put on in the middle of nowhere, and no one else could make this happen," he said.

Aung San Suu Kyi has won a landmark election, now she faces the challenge of persuading the army to withdraw from politics

If Burma ever needed a moment to rejoice, this was it. In a nation ruled by an often brutal military junta for nearly half a century, Aung San Suu Kyi's apparent victory in Sunday's parliamentary by-election could not be exaggerated.

Swarms of chanting Burmese flocked to National League for Democracy's (NLD) Rangoon headquarters as the sun set over the crumbling city, calling for the fall of "a sham democracy" and the return of "our fair leader, our beloved leader, Mother Suu".

"We did it! We won!" shouted the thousands of supporters as they filled the streets clapping, dancing and waving red party flags.

While unofficial party results indicate that Suu Kyi may have won 65% of the vote in 82 of her constituencies' 129 polling stations, local observers said that the number may have been as high as 90%, with the NLD reported to have won a minimum of 40 of the 44 seats it contested in the 664 parliamentary seats up for grabs.

The NLD claimed victory in 13 constituencies, including two in the capital Naypyidaw, but no official tallies had been released by 9pm on Sunday. Results must be confirmed by the official electoral commission, with an official declaration expected within a week.

The US secretary of state, Hillary Clinton, gave cautious support to Sunday's celebrations, saying: "The United States congratulates the people who participated, many for the first time, in the campaign and election process." She added: "It is too early to know what progress of recent months means and whether it will be sustained. There are no guarantees for what lies ahead for the people of Burma."

The daughter of independence fighter Aung San, the Lady – as she is called here – is herself in many ways considered a demigod after spending the greater part of 22 years under house arrest. Since her release in November 2010, Suu Kyi has been able to take on the role that many Burmese thought she may never have a chance to perform: that of a pro-democracy campaigner-turned-political leader who may finally make the changes for which she has so long called.

Competing against a military doctor from the junta-backed Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP) in Sunday's election, Suu Kyi campaigned all over the country for her party as well as in her constituency of Kawhmu, a string of villages comprising 87,000 eligible voters, many of whom were badly affected by the 2008 cyclone Nargis.

Some argue that Suu Kyi chose that constituency to bring media attention to the way of life of most Burmese, a third of whom live on just 30p a day. Amid the thatched hut villages and occasional golden pagoda of the delta's rice paddies and rubber plantations, water comes from a bucket dipped into the ground; electricity is delivered by diesel generators; oxen plough the earth; and school ends at the age of 10.

With Daw [Auntie] Suu on the campaign trail, villagers not just in Kawhmu but all over the country have been hoping for an end to their misery through a real introduction to modernity. "I'm poor, and I want Daw Suu to give me a job," said betel-nut farmer Sae Sein Myint, 47, from her dusty roadside village of a handful of bamboo huts and a group of pigs snoozing under trees.

"I earn 1,000 kyat a day, and that keeps going down because of fluctuating prices. I'm struggling. I want my kids to be able to work in a factory, not struggle like me."

All along the winding road to Wa Thin Ka, an ethnic-Karen village where Suu Kyi and her convoy spent Saturday night, supporters gathered in the hot afternoon sun to glimpse the so-called "living saint" as she drove past. Though just 40 miles from Rangoon, the village is a four-hour drive along unpaved, bumpy roads, either side of which villagers in red bandanas and Suu Kyi-emblazoned T-shirts clutched red and white roses – symbols of purity and bravery – and cried out as the motorcade wove slowly through the crowds.

As if a Hollywood actress had suddenly landed, Suu Kyi was followed by trucks full of cheering monks, young men with freshly shaved faces, babies with NLD stickers on their cheeks and grandmothers holding red flags, in turn followed by yet more supporters in minibuses and cars, and on tractors, bicycles and motorbikes.

The atmosphere was festive and electrifying, as those gathered danced, sang and chanted together. When the motorcade finally arrived at Wa Thin Ka, locals in Karen dress performed traditional dances while enterprising shopkeepers served noodles, tea and wide smiles to the influx of supporters and Burmese and foreign journalists.

Critics have said that, while Suu Kyi may be considered a national hero much like her father, she lacks the technical and administrative know-how to be truly successful in government. Suu Kyi has said that she is ready to meet the challenge, and that even if just one candidate from her party is able to fill an open parliamentary seat, that "one voice can be heard loudly all over the world in this day and age".

Despite irregularities in the polls, among them waxed ballot papers that made it difficult to mark votes and ballot cards lacking official seals, victory for the NLD, if the numbers are correct, is a glorifying moment for a nation where poverty, sanctions and censorship – official and self-inflicted – have dominated the way of life for most Burmese.

Under the presidency of Thein Sein, however, a former soldier with an eye for reform, the country of 60 million has undergone a transformation that has seen ceasefires declared with ethnic rebel armies; censorship laws eased; political prisoners freed and Suu Kyi released from house arrest with permission for her party to participate in the election.

It is hoped that an NLD victory may allow an easing of foreign sanctions and a reintroduction of Burma to the rest of the world – but some are hoping that the Burmese will have a chance to catch their breath before any massive change takes place.

"Most Burmese think that this will suddenly change everything, because they've been living under repression for so long and they want that way of life to end," said Myo Kyawt Myaing, a 40-year-old Burmese hip-hopper outside a polling booth in west Rangoon. "But most of us can't handle too much change too fast. We still only know the Burmese way of life. It's a lot slower."

✒ Friday's Broadcasting Press Guild awards swiftly turned into a I'm-more-fraudulent-than-you contest for the winners. Gareth Malone, collecting the best factual entertainment gong for The Choir: Military Wives (accompanied by "some of my wives"), affected puzzlement because in his shows everyone knows what's going to happen: "Nobody sings. Everyone laughs at me. I get very cross. Everyone sings."

✒ Backing into the limelight at Friday's Broadcasting Press Guild awards were Rev's writers Tom Hollander and James Wood, winners of the writer's award as well as best comedy/entertainment. Hollander, also star of the series and credited with having the idea, insisted that he was not really a writer; but Wood, referring to a clip just shown of the Rev Adam Smallbone having a pre-Christmas breakdown, countered by saying the scene was improvised – "Tom went mad, and I just typed it".

✒ Their modesty was topped by Hollander's screen wife Olivia Colman, who walked away with the best actress and breakthrough awards. Colman not only queried whether she really had breakthrough cred ("I've been slogging away for 20 years") but also whether any actor should be honoured at all – "I just turn up and read the lines that a writer's written". Even this seemed too immodest as soon as she said it: "I don't even have to turn up, I'm driven there."

✒ As if taking its cue from Sky Arts, home to the septuagenarian legends Melvyn Bragg, Michael Parkinson and Laurie Taylor, the radio station Magic Network North has just launched a Sunday line-up that brings together Dave Lee Travis (already on the Magic roster as host of what it calls "his infamous DLT show") with his former Radio 1 buddies Tony Blackburn and Mike Read. What's particularly intriguing about this real-life version of Smashie and Nicey

✒ Worries that an imposter may have got hold of Rupert Murdoch's Twitter feed hardened last week as the mogul ostensibly blamed "enemies, old toffs and rightwingers" for the latest allegations about dirty deeds in a part of News Corp. The owner of Fox News is clearly in no position to attack rightwingers; and the real Rupert, the Oxford graduate son of the press magnate Sir Keith Murdoch and his former debutante wife, wouldn't be well placed to slam toffs. Mind you, an establishment background hasn't prevented Marlborough-educated Tom "Olivia" Newton Dunn, the Sun's political editor, from leading the paper's dutifully Rupert-echoing crusade against "Toffs at the Trough", and so getting roundly mocked on Twitter.

✒ Though he has yet to name him, Newton Dunn was among the journalists calling for the head of chief government spinner Craig Oliver after a week of farcical PR disasters reminiscent of The Thick of It. As the hapless Oliver (as if scripted by Armando Iannucci) was reportedly ringing Newsnight mid-broadcast to insist that David Cameron had bought a pasty, but at Liverpool, not Leeds, the double-barrelled man of the people was tweeting "whoever thought up [Tory] 'panic strategy' has to go now, and publicly", after raging "how dysfunctional has this govt's PR machine got?" post-budget. The Mail's Andrew Pierce meanwhile told PR Week that "they are missing Andy Coulson … he would have seen the bear traps over pasties".

South Korea's sadness should serve as a warning to European countries that are embarking on major cuts to welfare

My native South Korea is something of a star performer. With per capita income of around $20,000 (on a par with Portugal), it is not one of the richest countries, but we are talking about a country whose income was less than half that of Ghana's until the early 1960s. With an annual per capita income growth rate of just under 4%, it is one of the fastest-growing OECD economies.

Once a byword for hyper-exploited sweatshop labour, churning out cheap transistor radios and trainers, the country now possesses the only thing that stands between iPhone and world domination (the Samsung Galaxy). It is also a world leader in industries such as shipbuilding, steel and automobiles.

The country is, per capita, the third most innovative in the world, after Japan and Taiwan, when measured by the number of patents granted by the US patent office. It has one of the world's highest university enrolment ratios, and schoolchildren who rank in the top five in virtually all standardised international tests.

So, when things seem to be going so swimmingly, why are Koreans clamouring for big changes in the run-up to the general election next week? Because they are desperately unhappy.

According to a recent World Values Survey, Koreans are the second unhappiest people (after Hungary) among the citizens of the 32 OECD countries studied. Worse, its children are the unhappiest in the rich world, according to a survey of 23 OECD countries done by Yonsei University in Seoul. In 2009 the country topped the international league table for suicides, with 28.4 suicides per 100,000 people. Japan was a distant second with 19.7. But Koreans never used to be this unhappy. Until 1995 its suicide rate was, at about 10 per 100,000 people, just below the OECD average. Since then it has almost tripled.

The answer to the Korean puzzle can be found in the consequences of the economic reform implemented after the country's 1997 financial crisis. In the UK-US mould, the stock market was fully opened to foreign investors, putting the larger, listed companies under pressure from international shareholders, making them increase short-term profits by minimising investments. The ability of smaller, unlisted companies to invest was severely curtailed by a dramatic reduction in credit availability. Deregulation allowed banks to rush into more lucrative consumer loan markets, reducing the share of loans to business.

The resulting dramatic fall in investments has led to a substantial fall in economic growth from 6%-7% (in per capita terms) per year to under 4%. With lower growth, few well-paid jobs are created. When combined with the relaxation of labour laws after 1997, this has given employers a decisive upper hand over their workers. Many employees were sacked and re-hired as "agency" workers, doing the same jobs at lower wages. The proportion of the workforce without a permanent contract rose from an already high 50% to 60%, the highest in the OECD.

Not that having a permanent contract gives you much protection these days. Most of the companies that used to (informally) provide "lifetime employment" for their core workers have ended the practice, with older staff put under pressure to make way for younger, cheaper workers.

And all of this is being played out in the absence of a decent welfare state – the country has the second smallest in the OECD, after Mexico (measured by welfare spending as a share of GDP). Given this, people live in constant fear of unemployment, forced retirement, and major illnesses, which expose them to a life of penury.

This "fear factor" also partly explains the country's excessive educational zeal. Pupils study hard, thinking that better educational qualification may give them a layer of protection in an unforgiving labour market. But since everyone is studying hard, they have to run faster to stay in the same place. The result is the combination of long study hours (double that of Finnish children, who do equally well in international tests), and enormous mental stress.

Moreover, increased job insecurity has driven the best Korean students into "secure" professions, like medicine and law, leaving science and engineering deprived of top talents. If this trend continues, the country's ability to innovate will be damaged.

The sad tale of my country should serve as a salutary warning to Britain and other European countries that are embarking on major cuts to welfare. They believe that such cuts will reduce budget deficits and make their economies more productive by making people compete more vigorously. However, the Korean story shows that insecurity actually makes people less, not more, productive, and also desperately unhappy. Surely, that is not what they want.

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Dispute over potential £115bn oil boom in region escalates, with criminal charges possible

Rising tensions over the Falkland Islands have prompted the Argentinian government to threaten a number of British and American banks with legal action for advising and writing research reports on UK companies exploring for oil in the region.

Argentina has grown increasingly unhappy about the prospect of missing out on a potential £115bn oil boom around the islands. It has now escalated the dispute with a two-page letter sent to 15 banks, thought to include Royal Bank of Scotland, Barclays Capital and Goldman Sachs, warning them of possible civil and criminal charges if they continue work with the five London-listed explorers. The companies, the biggest of which is Rockhopper Exploration, are not thought to have received any such letters themselves.

The generic letter – which did not name the recipient banks but was marked with the crest of the Argentinian ministry of foreign affairs – was critical of financial firms that advised the companies, and also those who wrote research reports for their clients.

The letter warned the banks to "bear in mind … the sovereignty dispute and … the consequences of any unlawful hydrocarbon exploration activities in the Argentine continental shelf in proximity to the Malvinas [Falkland] islands."

Legal experts said the threat could be an attempt by Argentina to cut off funding to the exploration companies rather than having to go through a protracted battle through the courts.

Early estimates have suggested there could be 8.3bn barrels of oil in the area, but some analysts believe the figure could be as much as 60bn barrels. A recent report by Edison Investment Research – one of those companies believed to have received the Argentine letter – said the islands could reap up to $180bn (£115bn) in royalties and tax from the exploration programme.

'You are standing throughout the day. It was tiring,' says one student who ended up working for Apple supplier Foxconn

Last January a 23-year-old student of industrial-machine design was attracted to work at Foxconn's Longhua plant by what he understood would be a month long "work placement" during which he would earn good money.

In fact, he says, he was exposed to a dangerous chemical without adequate protection, worked 10 days without a break, and got half the money promised by the training college that recruited him. "They disguised the nature of the work by calling it a work placement, but in fact it was manual work during the [Chinese new year] winter holidays," said Cui (he declined to give his first name to protect his identity).

Eager to pay for his studies at Anyang school of engineering in the central province of Henan, he responded to an ad from a nearby vocational training college, Zhou Ko Lian Ying. Lured with the promise of enough overtime to earn 3,000 yuan (about £300) after expenses in a month, he and 60 other students paid the medical exam fee and 600 yuan for a return bus ticket to the coastal town of Shenzhen. Cui worked applying paint and assembling parts, some of which bore Apple logos. The standard shift was 10 hours, including breaks totalling two hours.

"As soon as you enter the factory, you are standing throughout the day. It was very tiring." He got one day off a week, although at one point worked 10 days in a row. He was asked a number of times to spend a shift removing badly applied paint from parts using cloths soaked in a chemical, butanone. While longer-serving workers got breathing apparatus, and were under air vents, Cui and fellow interns were issued with simple face masks. "I felt dizziness after a few days," he says.

The US Centre for Disease Control and Prevention says butanone can cause dizziness, vomiting and numbness of the extremities. In tests on rats it has caused birth defects. Cui rented a bunk in one of the dormitories used by many Foxconn workers; eight to a room, one locker to store possessions, no kitchen, and no tables or chairs. No use of power sockets except for phone charging; anyone caught using a kettle would be disciplined. Most dorm mates were not temporary workers, but had lived there for one or two years.

After paying food and board, and missing out on shifts during the public holiday – for which he hoped to earn triple pay – Cui says he was told two days before leaving that he would be paid 2,900 yuan, leaving him just 1,500 yuan after expenses.

With fellow students, he complained to the local police but was told the fault was with the college that had employed them and therefore out of their jurisdiction. Foxconn managers refused to meet them to discuss the problem, he says. When they turned to a local commercial lawyer, they were told: "Foxconn makes so much money, and has such importance to local companies that if you fight them here you won't get anywhere."

British PM's lucky gamble not only repelled the Argentinian invasion but also paved way for her ideological reforms

Thirty years ago on 2 April 1982, 130 Argentinian commandos landed under cover of darkness on the British Falkland Islands in the South Atlantic, 1,100 miles from Buenos Aires. They seized the airfield, the marine barracks and, after a brief firefight, government house. This was followed by a full infantry landing in the harbour of Port Stanley.

By 8.30am, the islands were no longer British. Argentina's new junta, under General Leopoldo Galtieri, had truly marked the 150th anniversary of the island's occupation by Britain in 1832, while rescuing itself from opposition riots in Buenos Aires. It felt entitled to the islands, and thought the world, notably the United States, would agree with it, as it had India's similar seizure of Portuguese Goa in 1961.

To Margaret Thatcher, as she awoke that morning, the news was devastating. Two days of intelligence had suggested an Argentinian fleet was closing on the islands. A submarine had been sent, but it would take two weeks to arrive, and leaked news of its despatch merely speeded the invasion. She had telephoned her friend, President Ronald Reagan, to intercede. But Reagan found Galtieri drunk and intransigent.

After fewer than three years in office, Thatcher had achieved little beyond tax cuts for the rich and spending cuts for the poor. Cabinet colleagues were in open revolt and the new Social Democrats were experiencing the strongest third party surge in half a century.

Now this. British territory had been invaded by a foreign army on her watch. Captain Barker of HMS Endurance, the one British warship in the vicinity, radioed: "This has been a humiliating day." Thatcher had to face her cabinet that morning and parliament the following day, "The worst I ever had." The government's official history of the war acknowledged that she faced possible resignation.

To the 21st century, the Falklands can seem a late-imperial curiosity. The idea of British troops fighting so far from home seemed odder at the time than it might in today's age of wars. Many Argentinians claimed that Thatcher "had drawn Galtieri on to the punch" to save her own political skin. The failure to send any warning ultimatum to Buenos Aires certainly puzzled historians.

In truth, Thatcher was in shock. The invasion had clearly been precipitated by her defence review, phasing out the navy's "out-of-area" capability and withdrawing HMS Endurance, the South Atlantic patrol vessel. A possible transfer and leaseback of the islands to Argentina was being discussed at the United Nations in New York, and it was only the collapse of these talks that precipitated the junta's reviving a long dormant invasion plan.

Thatcher had one shot in her locker. Two evenings before, as evidence emerged of an impending invasion, she had summoned a meeting of foreign and defence ministers in her Commons room to discuss a possible response. The session was plunged in gloom. The Foreign Office was in despair, having long pleaded that a cessation of negotiations should mean "fortress Falklands". But to be proved right was no joy.

Meanwhile, a defence paper from the secretary of state, John Nott, indicated the vulnerability of the islands, and the near impossibility of recapturing them if taken. Both the foreign secretary, Lord Carrington, and the chief of the defence staff, Lord Lewin, were out of the country. Had they been present, they, too, would have counselled extreme caution and an emphasis on diplomacy.

Then something extraordinary happened. In a moment of theatre, later acknowledged by all present, the mood was transformed when the meeting was gatecrashed by the head of the navy, Admiral Sir Henry Leach. He was in the midst of a furious battle with Nott over navy cuts, and had heard that Nott was at a Commons meeting with Thatcher.

Asked by Thatcher if he thought a task force to recapture the islands was feasible, he said he could sail one within 48 hours. Asked what his response would be, were he the Argentinian general, he said: "I would return to port immediately." It was a reckless and self-serving remark.

Leach's gung-ho approach appealed to Thatcher's decisive style. More to the point, it was a straw at which she could grab in total darkness. Cabinet on the morning of 2 April heard that Rex Hunt, the Falklands governor, had surrendered and the British marines had been expelled from the islands.

The following day saw the most toxic press Thatcher had received. The government had been caught napping by a tinpot dictator. The Times demanded that Lord Carrington "do his duty" and resign. The Express demanded all of "Thatcher's guilty men" should go.

In her speech to parliament on Saturday 3 April, the first weekend debate since the second world war, Thatcher dared not even promise the re-establishment of British rule on the Falklands, carefully using the words "British administration of the islands". But she had the task force to brandish over the dispatch box. With Labour's normally un-jingoistic leader, Michael Foot, bellowing for "action not words", she pleaded for support for troops which, as yet, were still on British soil.

Attention now turned to Leach's navy. He had raced from the Wednesday meeting with a message to every ship he could find "to make ready to sail in 48 hours". Pandemonium broke out in Portsmouth and Plymouth. Sailors and marines were summoned from every corner of the land. An incredulous marine commander, General Jeremy Moore, was awakened at 3am and told to go and recapture the Falklands.

Plymouth public library was plundered for books on the South Atlantic. Supply trucks poured all night through the streets of Portsmouth and Plymouth. In a scene recalling Dunkirk, some 50 civilian ships were requisitioned for supplies. Leach was terrified the cabinet would get cold feet and rescind the task force.

What came to be called Operation Corporate ran close to disaster. A thousand men died, 255 of them British. Had more of the Argentinian bombs that landed on British ships exploded – their timers were faulty – a successful land campaign would have been near impossible. As it was, the task force's entire helicopter lift went down with the SS Atlantic Conveyor. This explained the controversial sinking of the Argentinian cruiser, Belgrano, when there was a real danger of stalemate and the humiliation of an American rescue in the offing. Thatcher was exceptionally lucky.

For all its apparent eccentricity, the result of the Falklands war is hard to exaggerate. Britain still lay under a cloud of 1970s failure, culminating in the tough Geoffrey Howe budgets of 1980 and 1981. The economy lagged behind Germany, France and Italy, and the political mood was exhausted and defeatist. Even the victory in the South Atlantic on 14 June was greeted not with ecstasy but as a job well done. At least Britain could fight a tidy war to an emphatic conclusion.

Yet the impact on Thatcher personally was stunning. Previously, she had little public profile at home or abroad. The war had shown her a dominant presence. Her language, her decisiveness, her determination were its watchwords. Afterwards, she was a world celebrity and a changed leader.

Cabinet critics were wholly silenced. A suddenly confident Thatcher felt licensed to push forward with what came to be known as Thatcherism. Constantly citing "the Falklands spirit", she tackled the miners and industrial relations generally. She took on the IRA at great personal cost. She savaged the GLC. She embarked on privatisation, of which she had previously been a sceptic.

The war had other, more lasting consequences. A prime factor in the Argentinian invasion had been Nott's defence review – with Thatcher's concurrence – reducing the navy to a coastal defence and deterrence force. While a vigorous opponent of communism as "the iron lady", Thatcher had shown no interest in foreign affairs and conceded post-imperial retreat in both Hong Kong and Rhodesia. The Falklands changed that, for her and her successors.

It also played into the hands of the true winner, Leach's navy. The one operation future defence strategists desperately wanted to rule out – a contested amphibious landing far from home – had been fought and won. Woe betide any cut that rendered its repeat impossible. Since then, defence spending has had to cover a "Falklands eventuality".

Navy and air force requirements were protected and the army cut. The Falklands led to an extravagant new carrier programme, resisted by the Treasury since the 1960s. The navy also secured a new amphibious assault capability. To every cut came the refrain, "But could we retake the Falklands?" The £3bn cost of the war was nothing compared with the cost of its consequence.

The Falklands ended a long period of post-imperial decline in British foreign policy. Leaders from Thatcher through John Major, Tony Blair and Gordon Brown to David Cameron, were to become self-styled globalists, "ready to punch above our weight".

A third of a century of overseas peace for British troops ended, and the 1990s began a series of "wars of choice", their intensity and cost growing to this day. While most of Europe beat swords into ploughshares, Britain continued to spend heavily on defence.

Post-war, Argentina was blessed with the advent of democracy, to which it has adhered ever since. Its people never admitted defeat over the Falklands and never will; they have all the Americas on their side. Meanwhile, it is a brave British politician who even breathes the word negotiation. As so often in war, nothing was resolved.

Opponents of regime of Bashar al-Assad treat their wounded and launch supply expeditions from neighbouring country

Routed by a brutal conflict and driven from their country, Syrians in Turkey might be expected to be a desperate bunch. But in the border camps and hospitals, defiance far outweighs despair.

In a hospital room in the border city of Antakya, Abdurrahman Kalash, a self-described Salafist imam in his mid-30s who was educated in Egypt, says he can hardly wait to get back to Syria. Two of his fellow fighters lie gravely injured, but Kalash is unbowed. This is not the end, he says, just the end of the beginning.

"We want to go back and join the struggle again," he says. "It might look like a dead end, but we are simply biding our time. The Syrian army has erected many more checkpoints than before, and many [opposition] fighters are currently in Turkey, waiting until we have more weapons."

And he adds: "We also know that there are many more Syrian soldiers who would like to defect, but we tell them to wait a bit longer."

The network of the Syrian opposition in Turkey is well established. In a quiet neighbourhood in this city, the ground floor of a nondescript apartment block now serves as an undercover clinic for Syrian fighters and refugees.

As well as treating patients, it helps smuggle medical supplies into Syria and wounded Syrians into Turkey.

"Using Skype, we are in close contact with the people inside Syria," says Waddah, 38, a pharmacist. "We liaise with the Turkish [military police], tell them where along the border wounded Syrians will cross, and they send an ambulance to take them to a hospital."

Dr Majed, who fled Aleppo in December, nods. "Medical supplies are taken into Syria with the help of the Free Syrian Army [FSA]." Asked if they receive any help from the Syrian National Council, the men laugh. "We do not get anything from them, and we don't expect anything from them either," Waddah says.

Majed pauses. "But it's the only political face we currently have, so we will have to make do with them."

In a nearby village close to the Syrian border, Ahmed, 13, and Hamit, 19, wait for their next supply trip into Syria.

Three sponge mattresses, one of them resting on a rough wooden frame, and a TV are the only furniture in the smoke-filled room; a blanket bearing the logo of the Turkish Red Crescent covers the floor. Stacked under the beds are packages of canned tuna and medical supplies. They do not have much contact with the villagers and pay 150 Turkish lira (£50) a month rent for the room.

"Sometimes there are up to 15 men who sleep here," Hamit says. "Free Syrian Army fighters come here to take a rest before they go back." They also escort Syrian refugees to Turkey.

On 9 May 2011, Ahmed was arrested during a protest rally in Latakia and held in jail for 3½ months where he was beaten regularly. After a transfer to another jail in Damascus, he was able to escape with the help of prison guards, and last December fled to Turkey.

"The Free Syrian Army helped me come here," he says. Now he and Hamit regularly smuggle food and medical supplies to FSA fighters across the border.

"The Turks are not very helpful," he says, frowning. "If they would assist us, our job would not be so hard."

Landmines

He has been caught once by Turkish military police, who are stationed nearby. "They put me in prison for one day and then handed me over to the refugee camp," he recalls. Ahmed says his mother, who lives in Syria with his father and four siblings, is very afraid for him. "But we can never talk about it on the phone or she would be arrested."

Just two days before this interview, three of their friends were caught and immediately killed by Syrian soldiers, Hamit recounts. Roughly once a week, they trek through the woods to Syria to bring supplies to FSA camps there.

"We saw the [Syrian] military place landmines on [the Syrian side of] the border," Hamit adds. "We know where they are and have so far been able to avoid them." On 12 March, Human Rights Watch (HRW) said the Syrian army had planted hundreds of antipersonnel mines along its borders with Turkey and Lebanon that had already killed and maimed civilians.

Hamit and Ahmed are glued to al-Jazeera coverage of events in Syria. Now and then Hamit gives the defective TV a shove to reset the flickering image. "It's the only Arabic channel we get here," he says, almost apologetically.

When Thamar, a 30-year-old member of the FSA, turns up an hour later, they immediately focus on his laptop and engage in Skype chats enabled by a wireless dongle. Thamar has spent four years in jail for drug offences, and participated in an uprising last year that left eight prisoners dead. He was later released on bail, and joined the armed opposition seven months ago.

He insists that no weapons are stored in Turkey. "The Turkish authorities would not allow it," he says. "I only took up weapons against Assad, not against the Turkish government."

Rejecting any notions of a slowing revolution, he argues that only a lack of weaponry has made the armed opposition look weak from the outside. "But we are decided to topple Assad, and there are many of us, up to 1,500 fighters in some places."

Asked if he worried about growing violence in Syria, he shakes his head. "The Free Syrian Army only defends, never attacks. We aim to protect Syrian civilians against the military."

On the border crossing between Turkey and Syria in Yayladagi, a businessman who wished to remain anonymous is angry that the armed opposition in Syria does not admit to its own wrongdoings and argues that sectarian tension in Syria has already reached a tipping point.

"Only a year ago we used to be ashamed to ask anyone about their ethnicity in Syria, it was a question that was considered rude. Nowadays sectarian identity has become of vital importance."

Having a Sunni mother and an Alawite father, he says he is now afraid to travel to Aleppo, where he owns a baby clothing store. "I used to go there twice a week," he says. "But now I send everything by cargo, because I am afraid to travel there."

In a public letter to the Syrian National Council on 20 March, HRW denounced serious human rights abuses committed by the armed opposition, including torture, kidnapping and executions, some of which had been directed against members of other sects, mainly Shia and Alawite.

Contrary to this, Thamar from the FSA wants to believe sectarian tension will cease once the president, Bashar al-Assad, is gone. "All the men who carry arms in Syria will hand them in once the revolution is over. We won't end up like Libya."

Claxton, Norfolk: With the appearance of a female toad, the scene is rendered magically alive and suggestive

For several lunch breaks I've come to sit on the banks to this dyke and, like the toads in the water opposite, to soak up the sunshine. I first found them by ear, following the minuscule dry calls of the male toads to their source. Now, amid a scent of crushed nettles (and this year's first stings), I can watch the extraordinary scenes of their lovemaking.

In truth, it is largely a patient and uneventful waiting game, the males lolling with arms and legs wide, their silky throats and the down-pressed grimace of their wide mouths rested on some floating reed stem as support. After a while I become adept at picking out a tiny coal in the shadows as the copper eye of a toad. With this telltale point of cold light as my fixture I can then work out the dark shape beneath it as the algal-brown body of the eye's owner.

It is only with a female toad's appearance that the scene is rendered magically alive and suggestive. She is about twice the bulk of her suitors and seems both monstrous and regal as she proceeds with a fine breaststroke into their midst. The males' throaty love notes intensify and the creatures themselves squirm all around her, loose ancient wrinkled bodies sometimes piling three or even four high until she is pressed deep under the water. From among this small mountain of flesh escapes the slow sexy pulse of their breathing.

Bubbles surface and wink, or balloon out among all those limbs, resting on their inexorable upward journey as capsules of toad gas afloat at the surface, before they burst eventually into the wider atmosphere. Above my head I notice that same air being hammered to a standstill under a kestrel's wings and a skylark rising upwards through it; finally, in the dark labyrinth of that bird's syrinx, mere toad's flatus is transformed into the pure sunlit gold of lark song.

RMS Titanic and Belfast | Racist tweets and the Public Order Act 1986

• Writing of today's Titanic centenary, an article said: "One hundred years ago ... the largest moving man-made object on Earth eased into Belfast lough and set off for New York City". The piece added that thousands of ticketed spectators turned out for the ship's "launch"; 13 days later, it went on, "the Titanic lay at the bottom of the Atlantic". To clarify, the launch of the hull watched by those crowds had been in May 1911, a year before the fully fitted ship left Belfast on 2 April 1912 for Southampton, where passengers boarded and the maiden voyage to New York began via Cherbourg and Queenstown. It was 13 days after the April 1912 departure from Belfast that the ship sank. Our piece also used the name RSS Titanic; that should have been RMS, signifying royal mail ship, not steam ship (Will the new Titanic centre do for Belfast what the Guggenheim did for Bilbao?, 24 March, page 15).

• In a piece headlined Student jailed over racist Fabrice Muamba tweets (28 March, page 6), it was said that Liam Stacey admitted incitement to racial hatred. In fact, he pleaded guilty on a charge of committing a racially aggravated offence under section 4A of the Public Order Act 1986: "A person is guilty of an offence if he uses towards another person threatening, abusive or insulting words or behaviour."

Bradford West showed too many people think too little changed under Labour. David Cameron isn't the only one out of touch

Spare a thought for George Osborne next weekend, though of course it may not be easy. If ever there were a reputation melting faster than an Easter egg in a heatwave, it must be the chancellor's: once hailed as a political strategist of Machiavellian brilliance, and now railed against by his own backbenchers.

The prime minister has undoubtedly suffered from the recent string of avoidable disasters, but what's new is that – to coin a phrase – David Cameron and his chancellor are now in it together. And that's not just down to one clodhopping budget, or even a stuttering economy. It's because the political gifts grudgingly admired even by Osborne's enemies – his knack for the Westminster chess game, for crisis management, for plotting a strategic path from where the Tories are now to where they must be two moves ahead – seem suddenly to have deserted him.

But it's no wiser to underestimate this George than the one who gave Labour a bloody nose in Bradford. Because the charge rightly levelled against this government, of being out of touch with ordinary lives, is one to which Labour also finds itself unexpectedly vulnerable.

The sea change of the last fortnight is that Ed Miliband and Ed Balls have almost caught up with Osborne and Cameron in terms of public faith in their ability to handle the economy – the single biggest deciding factor at the next election. The "trust gap" between the parties on the economy has shrunk to four points, down from 25, according to a ComRes poll.

For the "reasons to be cheerful" camp in the shadow cabinet, it's proof that Balls's relentless hammering of Tory toffs and their half-baked growth theories works. For them, the Bradford West byelection represents less a collapse of Labour's core vote than a freak combination of an extraordinary politician and an idiosyncratic seat. And even if Ken Livingstone fails to unseat Boris Johnson in the vote for London's mayor next month, that might be saying more about the personalities involved than a worrying inability for Labour to exploit anti-government wrath on what should be its home turf.

But over in the "reasons not to get cocky" camp, fears of a false dawn are growing. What's interesting about the trust gap is that it has shrunk not because faith in Labour's economic genius is boundlessly high – 60% of voters still don't think it will make the right calls – but because faith in the coalition is even lower. Voters don't seem convinced any party knows what it's doing, and that rings warning bells.

During the 2009 European elections, I spent a while in the north-west exploring why yet another fringe party (that time the BNP, not Respect) was successfully exploiting anger at another unpopular government. The answer grew clearer on an inner-city estate in Liverpool, when I asked a local councillor if the new recession had hit his patch hard. Not really, he said, because round here they still hadn't recovered from the last recession. There wasn't much left to lose.

Labour has still to confront a pervasive sense that too little changed for too many people when it held power. There are pockets of deprivation all over Britain – often a stone's throw from beautifully regenerated city centres – where life never seems to change much, come boom or come bust, and not just for those at the bottom of the pile.

The party noisily champions the "squeezed middle", but Labour is vaguer about exactly what squeezed them: wages have been flatlining for lower earners since 2003, long before the credit crunch or Osborne's austerity pay freezes.

Young couples were steadily priced out not just of buying a home but renting one – the average London rent now demands an income of £52,000 a year – not merely in the last two years, but over more than a decade of failure to prick the housing bubble. In Bradford, Labour's candidate complained that the "Tories didn't care" about rocketing unemployment – but joblessness actually began rising in the city in 2004.

So it's not enough just to apologise for failures in bank regulation, when lower earners were suffering well before the crash. And it's not enough just to jeer at posh Tories for being out of touch with ordinary folk, when many of them think that Labour had lost touch too. Life may be tougher under the Tories, but for some it was no picnic before – and where's the proof that it would get better if Labour won again? Where's the big plan for generating more and better jobs, or for helping people do the simple things – find a home, raise a family – now slipping out of reach?

The Labour party doesn't lack ideas, but the live debate now is over exactly how and when to push them. Liam Byrne, the shadow work and pensions secretary, has been working on two big bread-and-butter issues for a future 2015 manifesto: the reform of care for elderly people, and universal cheap childcare – which might in the long run virtually pay for itself, if more parents work and pay taxes.

But with Byrne hoping to quit the shadow cabinet and run for mayor of Birmingham, it's unclear who might take the half-finished thinking forward. And there is surprisingly little time left to nail it all down, thanks to a hidden trap in the budget.

The chancellor's decision to bring forward the next spending review to 2013 – meaning that work on another painful wave of spending cuts could start later this year – sounds tediously technical. However, the risk is that it allows the coalition not just to get the backlash over with early, but also to define the battleground for the 2015 election. The aim is to make Miliband fight on the coalition's chosen turf instead of on his own, to box him in by constantly challenging him to back this cut or that tax hike – or explain how else he could pay for his plans.

As one shadow cabinet minister puts it, the current chaos leaves a window open for Labour: but probably only for another nine months, before the spending review starts narrowing their options.

It's no small thing to identify your enemy's weakness. But it is not the same as showcasing your own strengths, and the time available for Labour to do the latter is shorter than it looks.

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Any "acceptable settlement" (The Falklands: 30 years on, 31 March) will recognise that the islands belong to Argentina, by virtue of the principle of uti possidetis juris.

Following the British appropriation of Port Egmont in 1765, a Spanish military governor was appointed in 1767 to administer the islands. In 1776, by royal charter, the Spanish crown made the islands a commandery under the jurisdiction of the naval base at Montevideo, which reported to the government of Buenos Aires. Upon the May revolution in 1810, the latter took over all the territories of the viceroyalty of the Rio Plata, including the islands. Spanish administration of the islands was interrupted in 1811 and resumed in 1820. On 10 June 1829, decrees from Buenos Aires created the political and military commandery of the Malvinas islands and islands adjoining Cape Horn in the Atlantic Sea, under the commandership of Luis Vernet. The Argentinian administration was forcefully ended on 3 January 1833, by the arrival of HMS Clio.

The above principle, as applied to territorial ownership and as affirmed repeatedly by the international court of justice, accords pre-eminence to legal title over effective possession as a basis of sovereignty.

So the islanders have the security of Mount Pleasant defence but not of international law.
Peter Hamilton
Much Marcle, Herefordshire

• About the article published by Roger Edwards saying that "no one listen to the islanders" (Will no one listen to us Falkland Islanders?, 6 March), I wanted to talk about some of your statements.

After our independence from Spain, which until then exercised legal dominion over the islands, the country inherited and maintained that domain with a small military garrison since 1820, as mentioned by Edwards.

The expulsion of the Argentine authorities in 1833 was a use of force by a dominant power, Britain, against a recently formed country, as Argentina was. This display of power, which was immediately protested by the Argentine government, is the cause of the whole problem, and the reason why British people have been living in the island for more than 180 years. The British occupation resulted in a colony that prevented the development of Argentina's population, unlike what happened in Patagonia.

Argentina does not have anything against the islanders, just that there is a long dispute over the territory in which they live, which began before their arrival. The reaffirmation of Argentina's position has its origin in the lack of British willingness to begin negotiations, and the subsequent consolidation of a status quo that only benefits Britain. All the steps taken by our democratic governments are contemplated as peaceful means, under international law and the United Nations Charter, and have the support of the international community, particularly in our region, which considers the Malvinas issue a remnant of colonialism.

It is time for the islanders to understand that Argentina feels attacked when Britain declares that sovereignty over the islands is not open to discussion. Britain uses our natural resources and deploys military forces over a territory we claim as our own, and which no country in the world denies is under legal dispute, not even the US.

It is clear that the world is heading towards the creation of integrated spaces, and the viability of states is directly related to their insertion into these spaces. We are therefore convinced that the future of the islands is objectively linked to South America.

The planet we inhabit does not deserve hate, it deserves peace. If we ignore the feelings of hatred of the past and overcome our differences, we will soon realise we are part of the same fate.
Carlos Raimundi
Member of Argentina's parliament

• As with Afghanistan, the great problem is that so many faultless servicemen and women and their families have lost their lives and loved ones fighting senseless wars, at the behest of bellicose politicians, that it is very hard to admit that such sacrifice has essentially been wasted. But just as we should clearly pull out and stay out of Afghanistan, we should equally take a hard-headed approach to the future of the Falklands. Imagine if, as a result of past colonial exploits, Argentina "owned" the Isle of Wight or the Isle of Man – what would we think then? It would be ridiculous, just as us "owning" the Falklands is.

Yes, currently, it appears that a majority of the islanders want to remain "British" but this is not a realistic proposition. Instead we should do as we did with Hong Kong, set a date, say 30 years hence, when the islands would revert to Argentina and work constructively with all parties in the meantime to bring this about. Of course any Falkland Islanders and their families who wanted before – or at – that point to "return" to Britain should be enabled to do so. Thereafter, residents of the islands would be Argentinian citizens.
John Strongman
Manchester

Argentina may well have "provoked" war 30 years ago but it takes two to tango, and the worry is that, now that the Tories have finally been recognised for what they are, they could well be the willing partner again, repeating the Thatcher ploy of resorting to war to avoid humiliation at the polls. What are the odds on a Gulf of Tonkin-type incident in the South Atlantic in the next 12 months? Failing that, one in the Strait of Hormuz might serve the same purpose.
Bernie Evans
Liverpool

David Smith's well-researched articles on sub-Saharan Africa (Africa digs in as the good times roll ... at last, 29 March) highlight the clear evidence that parts of the continent are at last on the cusp of a dramatic transformation driven by resource exploitation and incipient marketisation. The crucial question for all of us, because we share the planet, is whether that will result in an equitable, sustainable future or, as Smith speculates, growing inequality and persistent poverty, at the same time as resource profligacy. This is surely the central agenda for the Rio+20 and the post-2015 millennium development goals.

The demographic transformation that typifies development, urbanisation, has yet to take hold in sub-Saharan Africa – only Lagos approaches megacity status of 10 million people. The Chinese are, it seems, leading the way in infrastructure-led assistance, and this points to the urgent need for the international aid programme as a whole to look ahead, beyond the food crises, to building the capacity of African governments to plan for and manage the growth of cities. Unless they do, the high levels of mortality and of ill health will simply be reproduced in the future slums and sprawl.
Neil Blackshaw
Little Easton, Essex

• While it is commendable to talk up the prospects for Africa, as the traditional image of a hopeless continent is no longer justified or helpful, the figure of 34% of all Africans being middle class, as used by Mthuli Ncube, chief economist of the African Development Bank, is deeply misleading. It is true, the continent is booming, with some of the highest growth figures on the planet, but this growth sits firmly on the back of natural resources, such as oil and minerals, that foreigners are extracting and shipping abroad. When one knows that the African Development Bank sees the consumption of $2 a day as the threshold of middle class, and that roughly one-quarter of all Africans have yet even to have electricity, one can get a better picture of the reality. That there is a surge in optimism in African capitals is undeniable; the challenge is to support governance and regulatory systems (such as anti-corruption and tax-evasion legislation) that will enable Africa's wealth of natural resources to actually reduce poverty rather than, as is more traditional, increase it.
Peter Hudson
Director, Rainbow Development in Africa

• Your report (29 March) on the losses faced by Lloyd's of London after an "unprecedented series of natural disasters" rightly noted the impact of several major events in 2011, including the Japan tsunami, the earthquake in New Zealand and floods in Australia and Bangkok. This is a powerful illustration of a world where natural disasters and humanitarian emergencies are becoming the norm. However, the crisis which affected the largest number of people last year was the drought in east Africa, affecting over 11.5 million people in one of the poorest regions of the world. None of these 11.5 million people were insured at Lloyd's of London, and many are trying to rebuild their livelihoods with no financial support beyond that provided by charities like Cafod. The rich have the option of insurance to help mitigate the impacts of natural disasters. The poor do not. We must not abandon them because of this, nor break our promises to support them.
Mike Noyes
Head of humanitarian programmes, Cafod

• Last week's report on aid from the House of Lords (Abandon 0.7% international aid target, peers tell ministers, March 29) makes recommendations which could seriously undermine the reputation of the UK government as one of the world leaders in poverty reduction.

The suggestion that the Department for International Development should consider how Britain could derive direct economic benefit from its development aid is incompatible with this success, and would ultimately mean that UK aid was able to help fewer of the people who need it, and deliver poorer value for money for British taxpayers.

The report states that it is not possible to increase the amount of aid at the same time as improving its quality, but DfID has already proven that it is able to scale up its investments while also leading the world in terms of aid effectiveness.

Aid helps to ensure that the world's most disadvantaged people are able to access health, education and other essential services to help them build a brighter future. Spending this small percentage of 0.7% on development is a pledge we have made and one we can and must afford to keep.
Caroline Harper
Chief executive, Sightsavers

• Gordon Peters (Letters, 22 March) says Eritrea deserves a better press. I heartily agree. It has an extraordinary landscape, a perfect climate, a fascinating history, and a resilient and wonderful population. However, President Isaias, who rules Eritrea, deserves all the bad press he gets.

Isaias has locked up all independent journalists, all opposition politicians and many evangelical Christians. There have been no democratic elections since independence. He has expelled all international NGOs. Any remaining independent observers (such the international diplomatic community) have been prevented from travelling outside the capital to assess the impact of the recent drought which has devastated the Horn of Africa.

The British military administration in Eritrea ended 60 years ago. In this anniversary year, it is all the more appropriate that Isaias gets the bad press he deserves in the UK.
Will Cobbett
London

• Characteristically, the Department for International Development reverts to its default position in the face of criticism of the aid budget. That position is known as shroud-waving – "250,000 newborn babies will die needlessly" – has long been discredited in Whitehall negotiations and is better known as bureaucratic blackmail. The House of Lords committee is surely correct to ask for greater accountability and might query why the Afghan government, long known as the recipient of huge sums of DfID largesse in the name of "capacity building", should still be an international byword for corruption? Perhaps the Lords might care to add a footnote to their report urging that some of the planned DfID budget increase should be diverted to the BBC World Service to make good the grievous cuts it suffered in the last spending round. Who doubts that the BBC World Service is the finest, most effective form of international aid?
John Tusa
Managing director, BBC World Service 1986-92

Contrary to the assertions of David Aukin and his actor friends (Letters, 30 March), the right of Jews to settle in Judea and Samaria (the West Bank) is enshrined in and protected by international law, and underpinned by article 80 of the UN charter. The activities of the Habima theatre company in connection with the Israeli communities that live in these areas is therefore entirely legitimate.
Professor Geoffrey Alderman
University of Buckingham

• An earlier example of the grocers' apostrophe (Letters, 31 March) can be found in the Penny London Post for 10 March 1749. It invited those who wanted any printing "performed much cheaper than by any other Person in England … to enquire at the Printer's of this Paper".
Bob Clarke
Author, From Grub Street to Fleet Street

• As so often, the most chilling words are actually those buried in paragraph six of the article (Police face new racism scandal, 31 March): "The CPS initially decided no charges should be brought against any of the police officers." Why?
Alan Paterson
London

• Colin McPherson's photograph of the Mcleisters ('A ticking time-bomb placed under the poorest families', 31 March) is an outstanding example of the honest, sensitive representation of real people in a portrait; put me in mind of Rembrandt.
Geoff Sloan
London

• The public should stock up on bullshit, before the government uses it all up.
Phil Lawler
Skipton, North Yorkshire

Report following disaster last March finds waves pose bigger threat than previously thought and could inundate Pacific coast

Much of Japan's Pacific coast would be inundated by a tsunami more than 34 metres (112 feet) high if an offshore earthquake as powerful as last year's occurred, according to a government panel of experts. They report that a wave of such height could result from any tsunami unleashed by a magnitude-9.0 earthquake in the Nankai trough, which runs east of Japan's main island of Honshu to the southern island of Kyushu.

An earlier forecast in 2003 put the potential maximum height of such a tsunami at less than 20 metres (66 feet).

The revised tsunami projections, contained in a report posted on a government website, are based on research following last March's magnitude-9.0 earthquake and tsunami, which spawned a 14-metre (45-foot) wave that devastated most of Japan's northeastern coast, triggered meltdowns at a nuclear power plant and killed around 19,000 people.

The catastrophe and the ensuing crisis at the Fukushima Daiichi nuclear power plant, prompted sweeping reviews of Japan's disaster preparedness and criticism over apparent failures to take into account potential risks.

The tsunami knocked out power at the 40-year-old coastal nuclear plant, leading to the worst nuclear disaster since Chernobyl in 1986. Tens of thousands of residents have had to leave the area, and it is unclear whether some will ever be able to move back.

The Fukushima plant was designed to withstand a 6-metre (20-foot) tsunami, less than half the height of the surge that hit it on 11 March, 2011.

The latest forecast shows a tsunami of up to 21 metres (69 feet) could strike near the Hamaoka nuclear plant on the south-eastern coast. Its operator, Chubu Electric Power Co, is building an 18-metre (59-foot) high sea wall to counter tsunamis. The wall is due to be completed next year.

The plant was shut down in 2011 due to estimates it has a 90% chance of being hit by a magnitude 8.0 or higher quake within 30 years.

Grammar schools are on the rise again. The left mustn't be complacent about them any longer

The go-ahead has just been given for what will effectively be a new grammar school in the Kent town of Sevenoaks. This move blows apart the smugness of many people, including most of Labour's frontbench for the past 15 years, who were relaxed about the continued existence of selection in a quarter of English local authorities. Legislation prohibiting new grammar schools lulled politicians into believing the remaining 164 could be ignored.

Now the coalition's devious use of the school admissions code – introduced by Labour to bring more fairness to the system – will allow popular schools to expand without constraint or consultation. Plans for annexes to existing grammar schools have quickly surfaced and there is little to stop these "satellites" popping up all over the country.

elief in an elite education system runs like a deep blue vein through the Conservative party. Within months of the coalition taking power, Michael Gove, the education secretary, was joking about his "foot hovering over the pedal" when it came to more selective education. And he quickly found a way to do it. This sneaky last-minute change to the admissions code, made after consultation had closed, shows how superficial Cameron's Tory modernisation really is. For all the talk of prioritising poor children, his administration has unleashed a change that, as David Willetts, his universities minister, explained in 2007, will inevitably entrench advantage.

The idea that grammar schools are ladders for poor children has always rested more on the anecdotal life stories of a few public figures than hard facts. In 1959, at the height of the "golden age" of selective education, only 9% of 16-year-olds achieved five or more O-levels, and 38% of grammar pupils failed to achieve more than three O-levels. The Crowther report in the same year discovered poor children were significantly under-represented in selective schools.

Little has changed. A thriving private-tuition industry now prices poorer children out of this schools "market", and grammar schools have on average only 1% to 2% of pupils eligible for free school meals. Moreover the key argument for selection – that IQ is fixed – has been comprehensively disproved by scientific evidence showing that teenagers' brains change. Judging potential on the basis of a single test at 10 or 11 is absurd. The OECD Pisa study, so prized by Gove, also shows conclusively that the world's most successful education systems have no streaming at all before the age of 16.

That we are now facing expansion of a system that is neither equitable nor effective is partly down to Labour's failure to tackle this issue while in office. But Labour should now play the Tories at their own game. Just as the Tories have subverted Labour's admissions code, Labour could subvert the Tories' academy conversion programme.

Almost three-quarters of grammar schools have converted to academy status, which means they are wholly dependent for their existence on funding agreements with the secretary of state. A Labour government should cease funding any selective academies unless they phase out use of the 11-plus and convert to a comprehensive intake. 

Selective education was largely abolished because middle-class parents were incensed at their children being labelled failures at 11 and forced into secondary moderns starved of the balanced intakes all schools need. The flip side of the Kent grammars is a disproportionately high number of schools performing below the government's floor targets.

There isn't an appetite for this sort of system to be reintroduced elsewhere. Labour should act decisively to oppose this plan and mark out a more progressive course for the future.

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