By NICOLE WINFIELD and COLLEEN BARRY, Associated Press

VATICAN CITY (AP) — Catholic cardinals on Monday set May 7 as the start date for the conclave to elect Pope Francis’ successor, delaying the secret voting for two days so they can get to know one another better and find consensus on a candidate before they are sequestered in the Sistine Chapel.

The cardinals set the date after arriving for the first day of informal meetings following Pope Francis’ funeral Saturday. In a chaotic scene, journalists shouted questions about the mood inside and whether there was unity. A reporter for a satirical Italian television program asked whether an Italian cardinal who has been convicted by the Vatican criminal court on finance-related charges would be allowed to vote.

The conclave could have opened as early as May 5, but the cardinals gave themselves extra time to speak in more informal sessions that include cardinals over age 80, who will not be allowed into the Sistine Chapel once the conclave begins. They will next meet on Tuesday morning,

“There is the hope of unity,” said Argentine Cardinal Ángel Sixto Rossi, the 66-year-old archbishop of Cordoba who Francis made a cardinal in 2023.

Many cardinals cited the desire to continue Francis’ pastoral focus on people who are marginalized and against war. But conservatives may be more focused on forging unity and refocusing the church back on core doctrines emphasized by St. John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, rather than continuing Francis’ social justice focus and outreach to women and gays.

British Cardinal Vincent Nichols, the 79-year-old archbishop of Westminster, was adamant that the church must strive for unity, and he downplayed divisions.

“The role of the pope is to essentially hold us together and that’s the grace we’ve been given from God,” Nichols said.

Venezuelan Cardinal Baltazar Enrique Porras Cardozo expressed confidence that once the conclave begins, a decision would be quick, “between two and three days.”

Cardinal electors

The College of Cardinals that will elect a new pope includes members from far-flung corners of the globe whom Francis named over his 12-year papacy to bring in new points of view — often at the expense of traditional centers of Catholicism.

Many have spent little or no time in Rome getting to know colleagues, injecting some uncertainty into a process that requires two-thirds of the voting-age cardinals to coalesce behind a single candidate.

Nichols acknowledged that the 135 cardinal electors — 108 of whom were appointed by Francis — don’t know each other very well. The last 20 were appointed in early December.

“We’ve got all week,” Nichols said as he arrived.

Only cardinals under 80 are eligible to vote, and it is not clear how many of the 135 will participate. A Spanish cardinal has said he won’t come to Rome for health reasons.

A big uncertainty is whether Cardinal Angelo Becciu, once one of the most powerful cardinals in the Vatican, will be allowed in the Sistine Chapel. Francis in 2020 forced Becciu to resign as head of the Vatican’s saint-making office and renounce his rights as a cardinal because of allegations of embezzlement and financial fraud. Becciu denied any wrongdoing but was put on trial in the Vatican criminal court and convicted of finance-related charges in December, 2023.

He is appealing the conviction and has participated in the pre-conclave meetings, but there is a lingering question about whether he is entitled to vote. The Vatican’s official statistics list him as a “non-elector.” When he was ousted in 2020, Becciu told a hastily arranged press conference that he wouldn’t be voting in any future conclave, but recently he has insisted he is entitled to vote, and canon lawyers have been poring over the Vatican document regulating the conclave to determine if he’s right.

The case was discussed Monday by cardinals but there was “no resolution,” the Vatican said.

Papal candidates

While Francis stacked the ranks with his cardinals, it is not necessarily the case that all of them will want to see the church continue in his image.

On Monday, any glimpse of a red cap appearing along St. Peter’s Square’s stately colonnade set journalists running with cameras and voice recorders aloft to capture the mood inside.

Italian Cardinal Matteo Zuppi, considered a contender to be the next pope, navigated the scrum of journalists with humor, joking that he was “holding his breath” as the microphones and cameras surrounded him all the way to the Vatican gate.

African voices

Nigerian Cardinal John Olorunfemi Onaiyekan, the emeritus archbishop of Abuja, was asked if the African cardinals were coalescing around a particular candidate.

African bishops had made a remarkably united stand last year against Francis’ outreach to LGBTQ+ people, refusing to implement his declaration allowing priests to offer blessings to same-sex couples. Given such a stand, there is some speculation that the 18 African cardinal electors could help block a progressive candidate from emerging.

“We have not come here for a political rally. We have come to get a pope out,” said Onaiyekan, who at 81 is too old to vote but can have a role in influencing how younger electors might.

Asian and Latin American voices

Indian Cardinal Anthony Poola, the 61-year-old archbishop of Hyderabad, said he had experienced a sense of unity among his fellow cardinals but allowed that “anything could happen.” As a relatively young cardinal, Poola is one of four Indian electors who will participate in the conclave, three of whom, including Poola, were named by Francis.

“Anyone who is coming up must be the successor of St. Peter, and we all hope that he will be a good pope,” he said.

Rossi, the Argentine cardinal, said he hoped that Francis’ message of “mercy, closeness, charity, tenderness and faith,” would accompany them in finding a successor.

But he acknowledged the job was daunting. Asked how he felt about participating in his first conclave, he responded with a laugh: “Afraid.″

Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP’s collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content.

Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared at Inside Climate News, a nonprofit, independent news organization that covers climate, energy, and the environment. It is republished with permission. Sign up for their newsletter here.

Margo Denke set out to rally the town when she learned that a Christian youth camp planned to build a wastewater treatment plant and discharge its effluent into the pristine Hill Country creek that ran through her small ranch.

Denke, a 1981 graduate of Harvard Medical School who moved to the Hill Country in 2013, printed fliers, put them in Ziploc bags and tied them to her neighbors’ cattle gates in the tiny community of Tarpley, population 38. A coalition of families pooled resources, hired a lawyer and dug in for a yearslong battle. 

Theirs was one of many similar struggles that have unfolded in recent years across Central Texas, where protection of creeks and rivers from treated wastewater discharge often falls to shoestring community groups as an onslaught of population growth and development pushes ever deeper into the countryside. 

“All this would have been destroyed,” Denke said in April as she surveyed a spring-fed stretch of Commissioners Creek. “Raising the money to fight this is not easy. But you have to, you can’t let this just slide by.”

Eventually, the camp owner, who did not respond to a request for comment from Inside Climate News, agreed in settlement negotiations not to discharge into the creek. Instead, they would spray their treated effluent over their own property—an increasingly popular means of wastewater disposal. In exchange, the neighbors would drop their opposition to the two-story dam the camp erected for a private lake and waterpark on little Commissioners Creek. 

“I’m trying to stay positive about it,” Denke said. “It was a huge win.” 

But the battle never ends amid the rapid pace of development in Texas. Several miles downstream, another subdivision developer wants to treat wastewater and discharge it into Hondo Creek. And in a neighboring watershed, another community group recently stopped another Christian youth camp from discharging into the Sabinal River. 

Similar stories repeat throughout Central Texas, where two decades of booming population growth have come with a massive increase in domestic wastewater—mostly human sewage. The effluent from wastewater treatment plants appears clean and clear, but it contains high levels of organic nutrients that can cause algae blooms and devastate native aquatic ecosystems when dumped into streams and rivers. 

Stephanie Morris wades through an algae bloom on the South Fork San Gabriel River near her house in Leander. (Dylan Baddour/Inside Climate News)

“Unfortunately, society at large has no idea,” said Jeff Back, a staff scientist at Baylor University who has studied nutrient pollution in Texas waterways for 20 years. “Developers want to continue to do their business, but they need to be responsible.”

Now, as the state Legislature meets for its biennial session, advocates for water protection are supporting a bill that would prohibit most new discharges of treated wastewater into the state’s last 21 stretches of pristine rivers and streams, as defined by measured nutrient levels. Filed by state Sen. Sarah Eckhardt, a Democrat from Austin, it’s the latest iteration of a bill that groups have tried repeatedly without success to pass in Texas. 

It wouldn’t ban development along pristine streams. It would just require other outlets for treated wastewater beside the natural waterways. Plenty of solutions are available on the market, from systems for onsite re-use to treatment methods that remove the nutrients from wastewater. 

“People have to understand that it’s not going to be free,” Back said. “People want to do everything as cheaply as possible.”

The luxury of doing things cheaply might not last forever. As Texas cities begin to outgrow their water supplies and state leaders increasingly recognize shortages looming on the horizon, there may come an end to the days of showering lawns with drinking water while dumping treated effluent into rivers for disposal. 

“This effluent should be considered a resource, not a nuisance to get rid of,” said David Venhuizen, a civil engineer in Austin who sells hardware for on-site water reuse.

It could be used to irrigate and fertilize the turf grass of parks, sportsfields, golf courses and private lawns, which make up the bulk of municipal summertime water use in Texas. In existing cities, such reuse has proven prohibitively expensive because plumbing from wastewater treatment plants is expensive to run out to individual customers.

New development, however, could be built to incorporate on-site wastewater reuse, said Venhuizen. His system, buried underground like a septic system, can treat a household’s wastewater, then drip it beneath the lawn. It could also be adapted at neighborhood scale for subdivisions to create a decentralized network of wastewater treatment and local redistribution. 

But the breathless pace of suburban sprawl in Texas leaves no time to pause and make systemic changes. Instead, Texas cities run pipelines to distant aquifers to meet the ever-growing needs of new neighborhoods that will use most of their drinking water on lawns while piping away their effluent for treatment and discharge into a creek. 

“We’re going to continue to rely on extraction instead of any regenerative kind of water systems,” said Venhuizen, 78, on a rocking chair in his backyard fitted with rainwater collection tanks and covered in native plants. “The madness has to stop.”

Stephanie Morris bought a house on the South Fork San Gabriel River, 27 miles north of Austin, in 2013. She wouldn’t have done it if she knew what the beautiful river would become. 

When she and her family moved in, Morris said, the neighbors were already exhausted by a long-running battle with the neighboring city of Liberty Hill over its discharge of treated wastewater into the river about a quarter mile upstream. 

Back then, Liberty Hill had about 1,000 residents, and its discharge created relatively minor algae problems in the river. Then its population exploded, like many other small cities of Central Texas. Now almost 15,000 people live in Liberty Hill, most of them relying on the South Fork San Gabriel for their wastewater disposal needs. 

“There’s a hell of a lot more people pissing in the pond,” said Morris, a high-risk labor and delivery nurse, as she trudged through the green, mucky river in high rubber boots. “Every year things would get worse as their volume increased.”

All those nutrients, primarily from human waste, have caused the riverbed to choke up entirely with algae at times, extending three to five miles downstream and burying native ecosystems. When the algae dies, it sinks and rots in heaps of black, stinking muck. 

Year by year, Morris became increasingly involved, until she spent all of her free time trekking the riverbed and taking photos of the destruction to show to her elected representatives, commissioners of the TCEQ and judges at the administrative law courts in Austin. 

As a result, the TCEQ has twice reduced the concentrations of phosphorus that the Liberty Hill plant is permitted to discharge, although its overall volume continues to increase. The river looks better today than it did several years ago, Morris said. But the fight has nearly exhausted her. 

“This has cost so much time and money, it’s not even funny,” she said. “Private citizens should not have to be enforcing the environmental standards of the state.”

The story of the South Fork San Gabriel, and the pictures that circulated online, jolted other communities to fight against proposed discharges in their areas, said Annalisa Peace, executive director of the Greater Edwards Aquifer Alliance, a group that helps its member organizations challenge the proposed discharge permits in the 21 counties that overlie the Edwards and Trinity aquifers.

“It’s incumbent upon the citizens and GEAA to raise the money for the legal fees to do all this,” Peace said. “It seems to be that the burden is placed on the average citizen.”

Most new wastewater sources come from new housing subdivisions and the municipal utility districts that are established to serve them, she said. Others are commercial projects, from summer camps to music venues, that plan to treat their own wastewater. Much of the new construction, especially near pristine streams, takes place outside of any city’s jurisdiction so it faces little regulation or oversight. 

Previous attempts to pass statewide regulations of discharges into waterways have repeatedly failed, said Peace, who has worked with GEAA for 20 years. Much of the resistance comes from lobbying by major homebuilding companies that are making big money off explosive population growth in Texas. 

“It’s the big nationals that we’re really seeing the most intransigence and the most organized opposition from,” she said. “They don’t like regulation.”

The Texas Association of Builders declined to comment on this report.

Peace wishes for a law restricting wastewater discharge into all Texas waterways. But she’ll settle for the current bill, which protects just the remaining pristine segments, and provides exemptions for cities and river authorities. 

Outside the Texas Legislature, groups have had more success challenging individual permits. Such was the case on the Upper Sabinal River, where another Christian youth camp, operated by the national nonprofit Young Life, proposed in 2019 to build a wastewater treatment plant that would discharge into the river. Local landowners rallied. They gathered 25,000 signatures on a petition and hired a lawyer to challenge the discharge permits. 

Faced with an extensive delay in state administrative courts, Young Life opted to settle instead. Young Life did not respond to a request for comment. 

“Once this became a high-profile issue, they were willing to look at alternatives,” said Jeff Braun, a landowner on the upper Sabinal River and a spokesperson for the Bandera Canyonlands Alliance, which fought the permit. “I think it hit a chord with a lot of people that are native Texans because they all love these iconic streams.”

In an announcement of the settlement agreement in August 2021, Young Life said it would reuse most of its wastewater on-site for irrigation rather than discharging into the river. Regulators call this practice “land application,” and it’s growing in popularity. 

By banning discharges into pristine streams, the bill in the Legislature would effectively force developers in those areas to use land application for wastewater disposal. Although the practice is less impactful to waterways than direct discharge, it can still do damage. 

Mike Clifford, technical director at the Greater Edwards Aquifer Alliance, said that opposition from community groups has already pushed many developers to seek land application permits. 

“The problem now is we just have too many of these,” he said. “They’re popping up everywhere.”

The TCEQ has issued 413 active permits for land application of treated wastewater, according to online records, and 2,374 active permits for discharge. 

For example, community groups are currently fighting a planned 10,000-seat amphitheater, luxury hotel and condominium complex on 84 acres nestled next to the Barton Creek Habitat Preserve on Barton Creek, a pristine stream, in Austin. The complex would treat its own wastewater with land application permits to spray up to 120,000 gallons per day of treated effluent onto its property. 

Over time, Clifford said, the nutrient pollutants would accumulate until a big rainstorm washes them into Barton Creek. About five miles upstream, on Fitzhugh Road, another proposed 5,000-person music venue wants to treat its own wastewater and discharge it into ponds near Barton Creek. 

One solution, Clifford said, would be for Texas to require developers to add nutrient removal to their treatment process. 

“It’s just about money,” he said. Nutrient removal “can double the cost of a wastewater treatment plant.” 

With adequate investment, plenty of solutions exist. Some could even be configured to make money that covers part of their costs. For example, some treatment systems that remove nitrogen and phosphorus from water do it by growing algae, which could be harvested and sold as fertilizer. To avoid the buildup of nutrients where effluent is sprayed onto land, grasses can be harvested and sold as hay. Irrigation of hay for livestock is the largest water demand driving shortages in parts of Texas and the West.

Eventually, water scarcity will compel urban planners to make use of wastewater rather than dumping into rivers, said Brian Zabcik, advocacy director for the Save Barton Creek Association, which has pushed for discharge protections on Texas pristine streams through several successive legislative sessions.

“It’s crazy that we’re using our highest-quality drinking water to water our lawns and flush our toilets,” he said. “It makes a lot more sense to use recycled wastewater for those purposes.”

Texas might soon have to consider systemic changes as its population continues to boom, temperatures continue to rise, a multi-year drought persists and water shortages approach. Already, changes are beginning in small pockets. 

Zabcik pointed to West Texas cities of Big Spring and El Paso, national pioneers in the reuse of treated effluent for drinking water. In Austin, a new city government building features on-site wastewater treatment and recycling for non-potable uses. Consumer products exist to do the same at any home, building or neighborhood. 

These aren’t radical practices, said Zabcik, who lives on his grandparents’ ranch in Bell County. Conserving water was part of life for previous generations in Texas. For example, Zabcik said, his grandparents grew a garden, but not with their drinking water; they ran in a pipe from their stock tank. The water from their washing machine drained onto the lawn. 

Passing protections on pristine streams won’t ban development along those stretches, Zabcik said. It will just require new approaches to wastewater use. Although they remain costly for now, prices may come down as necessity boosts demand for new affordable products.

The timeline will depend on whether Texas finds the political will to implement new wastewater systems in advance, or if it waits for scarcity conditions to force its hand.

“We’ve got to reuse every drop,” Zabcik said. “It’s really stupid to be wasting wastewater.”

The post In Booming Central Texas, Wastewater Is Polluting Rivers and Streams appeared first on The Texas Observer.

By JAKE OFFENHARTZ, Associated Press

NEW YORK (AP) — A Brooklyn woman said she feared for her life as she was chased, kicked, spit at and pelted with objects by a mob of Orthodox Jewish men who mistook her as a participant in a protest against Israel’s far-right security minister.

The assault, recorded by a bystander, unfolded Thursday near the global headquarters of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement in Crown Heights, where an appearance by Itamar Ben-Gvir set off clashes between pro-Palestinian activists and members of the neighborhood’s large Orthodox Jewish community.

The woman, a neighborhood resident in her 30s, told The Associated Press she learned of the protest after hearing police helicopters over her apartment. She walked over to investigate around 10:30 p.m. but by then the protest had mostly disbursed. Not wanting to be filmed, she covered her face with a scarf.

“As soon as I pulled up my scarf, a group of 100 men came over immediately and encircled me,” said the woman, who spoke to the AP on the condition of anonymity because she feared for her safety.

‘I had nowhere to go’

“They were shouting at me, threatening to rape me, chanting ‘death to Arabs.’ I thought the police would protect me from the mob, but they did nothing to intervene,” she said.

As the chants grew in intensity, a lone police officer tried to escort her to safety. They were followed for blocks by hundreds of men and boys jeering in Hebrew and English.

Video shows two of the men kicking her in the back, another hurling a traffic cone into her head and a fourth pushing a trash can into her.

“This is America,” one of the men can be heard saying. “We got Israel. We got an Army now.”

At one point, she and the police officer were nearly cornered against a building, the video shows.

“I felt sheer terror,” the woman recalled. “I realized at that point that I couldn’t lead this mob of men to my home. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t know what to do. I was just terrified.”

After several blocks, the officer hustled the woman into a police vehicle, prompting one man to yell, “Get her!” The crowd erupted in cheers as she was driven away.

The woman, a lifelong New Yorker, said she was left with bruises and mentally shaken by the episode, which she said police should investigate as an act of hate.

“I’m afraid to move around the neighborhood where I’ve lived for a decade,” she told the AP. “It doesn’t seem like anyone in any position of power really cares.”

Police investigating

A police spokesperson said one person was arrested and five others were issued summons following the demonstration, but did not say whether anyone involved in assaulting the woman was charged.

Mayor Eric Adams said Sunday that police were investigating “a series of incidents stemming from clashing protests on Thursday that began when a group of anti-Israel protesters surrounded the Chabad Lubavitch World Headquarters — a Jewish house of worship — in Brooklyn.”

He said police had spoken to a different woman on the pro-Palestinian side of the protest who suffered injuries after she was harassed by counter-protesters. Photos shared online showed that woman with blood streaming down her face.

“Let me be clear: None of this is acceptable, in fact, it is despicable,” Adams added. “New York City will always be a place where people can peacefully protest, but we will not tolerate violence, trespassing, menacing, or threatening.”

The protest was one of several in recent days against Ben-Gvir, an ultranationalist settler leader who is embarking on his first U.S. state visit since joining Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s cabinet three years ago.

Previously convicted in Israel of racist incitement and support for a terrorist group, he has called on his supporters to confront Palestinians and assert “Jewish Power.”

The protest against Ben-Gvir’s Brooklyn appearance generated condemnations from some Jewish groups, who accused participants of targeting a religious site.

Chabad-Lubavitch denounces incident

The neighborhood around the Chabad headquarters also was the site of the 1991 Crown Heights riot, in which Black residents outraged by boy’s death in a crash involving a rabbi’s motorcade attacked Jews, homes and businesses for three days.

A Chabad-Lubavitch spokesman, Rabbi Motti Seligson, denounced both the anti-Ben-Gvir protesters and the mob that chased the woman.

“The violent provocateurs who called for the genocide of Jews in support of terrorists and terrorism — outside a synagogue, in a Jewish neighborhood, where some of the worst antisemitic violence in American history was perpetrated, and where many residents share deep bonds with the victims of Oct 7 — did so in order to intimidate, provoke, and instill fear,” Seligson said.

“We condemn the crude language and violence of the small breakaway group of young people; such actions are entirely unacceptable and wholly antithetical to the Torah’s values. The fact that a possibly uninvolved bystander got pulled into the melee further underscores the point,” he said.