because they’re stuck in what we used to do,” says Mark Brantley, premier of Nevis and a big supporter of Destiny. Yet some of the criticisms are valid. The zones pay little tax and rarely house locals. For entities obsessed with sovereignty, they can be flippant about assailing it. After the Honduran Supreme Court’s ruling that the legislation authorising the development was unconstitutional, Próspera sued Honduras for $11bn—two-thirds of its annual budget. In April Honduran media published recordings in which Honduras’s former president, Juan Orlando Hernández, appears to discuss the terms of the deal under which Donald Trump pardoned his conviction for drug-trafficking. In exchange for his release, he seems to say, his National Party was to grant Próspera more land and regulatory perks. (Mr Hernández has said the recordings are “false”.) Nevisians worry that Destiny may go further. It is unclear whether its 10,000 supposed residents would get a vote. Those against the project fear that if they did, it would let them use a constitutional path to unilateral secession from St Kitts, its federal partner. “This represents to us on Nevis the single greatest threat to our existence ever,” says Kelvin Daly, an activist in Charlestown, the island’s capital. And yet those like Mr Daly who oppose the libertarian zones are not making much progress. One reason is changing political winds, as a crop of right- wing pro-business leaders take power across Latin America. Another is money. Próspera pays its workers a premium above the Honduran minimum wage. The Veritas Villages claim to have an education and health-care charity called Help Them Help Themselves. In April Destiny offered every resident of Nevis $100 a month if the development goes ahead, on top of a slice of future profits. The estate agent handling Destiny’s land purchases is Mr Brantley’s wife. Demand is rising. Nice weather and loose laws are obvious draws, while the Iran war is forcing rich people to reconsider the safety of the Persian Gulf. The renaissance in charter cities began after the financial crisis of 2007-09. Their recent proliferation is probably linked to dissatisfaction with traditional governance, says Paul Romer, former chief economist of the World Bank and an early figure in the movement. Hondurans and Nevisians are bracing for the consequences. ■
This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//the-americas/2026/06/11/techno-libertarians-are- flocking-to-the-caribbean
An interview with South Korea’s president Asian activists say too much egg production is cruel Can India’s cockroach party become a political movement? Japan is rethinking its divorce laws Money troubles are driving India’s states to drink
An interview with South Korea’s president Lee Jae Myung has put his country on track again, but challenges loom June 11th 2026 THE TILED roof of the Cheong Wa Dae complex in central Seoul gives the building its colloquial name: the Blue House. Generations of political leaders in South Korea called it home until Yoon Suk Yeol, then the president, decided to move out in 2022, giving a hint of the turbulence to come under his rule. Following Mr Yoon’s declaration of martial law in 2024 and his subsequent impeachment last year, South Korea’s new president, Lee Jae Myung, moved back in, signalling a restoration of normality. In an interview with The Economist in one of the Blue House’s opulent reception halls, Mr Lee projects calm. His country can “move beyond this normalisation of the abnormal” he declares, plausibly. He is less convincing in suggesting it could “develop into a nation that leads the world”.
Mr Lee has reason to be confident. A year after taking office, his approval rating remains around 60%, among the highest for a South Korean president at this stage. Voters give him credit for the political stability. He is fortunate for being in office during a scorching stock market rally. Mr Lee has also managed to deftly steer South Korea’s relations with notable powers, including America, China and Japan. Yet, as Mr Lee looks ahead to the rest of his five-year term, challenges loom. After Mr Yoon’s declaration of martial law in late 2024, the country cycled through three acting presidents. Mr Lee, as opposition leader, galvanised resistance to the move. In office his lively social-media presence and habit of live-streaming cabinet meetings appeal to voters. It has not hurt that the conservative opposition People Power Party (PPP) remains in thrall to the disgraced ex-president. In local elections on June 3rd, candidates from Mr Lee’s Democratic Party (DP) took 12 of 16 big mayoral and gubernatorial jobs (though the conservative incumbent in Seoul held on). Somewhat unexpectedly for a left-winger with a background as a labour lawyer, Mr Lee campaigned on a promise to boost capital markets. He called for reforms to corporate governance to help raise the country’s main equity index, the KOSPI, from under 3,000 to 5,000 within his five-year term. Mr Lee was lucky to take office amid an AI gold rush in which South Korean tech giants, such as Samsung and SK Hynix, profit by making memory chips. The KOSPI has nearly tripled over the past year, reaching record highs of over 8,000. Mr Lee has lived up to his promise of pragmatism in foreign policy as well. Leaders from the DP generally favour engagement with North Korea and warm to China to make that easier to do; they also typically have tetchy relations with Japan, the former colonial overlord. Mr Lee has stabilised relations with China without seeming obsequious. Most consequentially, he has forged a bond with Japan’s right-wing prime minister, Takaichi Sanae, born of a shared understanding that the neighbours must get along in the face of a more assertive China and a less reliable America. Relations with Donald Trump could have been awful. Mr Trump has often railed against South Korea as an ungrateful ally. But Mr Lee’s government has pledged to raise defence spending to 3.5% of GDP (from 2.7% last
year); it also wants to take greater responsibility within the alliance’s command structure. “When it comes to the defence of our nation, we must take matters into our own hands,” Mr Lee says. Pete Hegseth, America’s secretary of war, now calls South Korea a “model ally”. Mr Lee entered office amid negotiations over Mr Trump’s “liberation day” tariffs. South Korea struck a deal for tariff relief in exchange for a $350bn investment pledge, with caps on annual outflows to limit the damage to the local economy. Mr Lee also slid several long-standing security goals into the package, gaining the American president’s blessing for South Korea to possess nuclear-powered submarines and to develop the capacity to enrich and reprocess nuclear fuel. He insists it will be used only to enrich to the low levels needed to power atomic reactors, and that it is “not desirable nor realistic” for South Korea to get its own nuclear weapons. Nonetheless, having enrichment facilities will bring it a big step closer to being able to build the bomb, if it ever decides to. Implementing the deals reached with the mercurial American president is the first big challenge looming over the rest of Mr Lee’s term. Last week American officials visited South Korea to continue talks over nuclear issues. Big gaps still need to be bridged, not least over the question of where the subs will be built. (Mr Trump wants them made in America.) Congress would have to agree to giving South Korea nuclear-enrichment rights. South Korea’s position would be a good deal less precarious were it not for the nuclear-armed neighbour to its north. Mr Lee, in keeping with DP tradition, has made every effort to reach out. But North Korea, which in recent years has taken to calling South Korea a “hostile state” and is now enjoying the fruits of a new alliance with Russia, has shown no interest in talking to the South. Mr Trump’s “unique personality” can be “very helpful” in the current situation, he says. Kim Jong Un, North Korea’s dictator, says he will meet Mr Trump only if the long-held goal of “denuclearisation” is off the table (see China section). Following the war in Iran, North Korea will be even less inclined to give up its arsenal, Mr Lee notes. More problems lie ahead at home. While AI-related investment has thus far lifted South Korean equities and Mr Lee’s political fortunes, his standing would suffer if the market dips. Even if the boom continues, it will raise
hard questions about how to share newfound wealth equitably. Mr Lee says that the rise of industries generating extraordinary profits may require a rethink of tax and distribution systems, and that using a portion of those excess profits to support consumers’ purchasing power through a basic income could be a useful option. He has also called for more balanced growth among different regions, pushing chipmakers to build supply chains in less developed corners of the country. As part of that agenda, he wants to move part of the presidential administration out of the Blue House and to an administrative centre south of Seoul. Mr Lee’s own future is also uncertain. He entered office with five trials hanging over his head, related to his earlier spells as a mayor and governor. Mr Lee calls these prosecutions politically motivated. They have been put on hold while he is in office, but seem sure to re-emerge once he leaves. Since the country’s democratisation in the late 1980s, more than half of South Korea’s presidents have been impeached, jailed or both. Mr Lee acknowledges that the possibility of something similar happening to him is “pretty high”. His legacy will thus in part depend on whether he can break the curse of the Blue House. ■ Clarification (June 10th 2026): Due to an inaccuracy in translation, an earlier version of this article misstated Mr Lee’s position with regard to the possible use of excess profits. For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/06/10/an-interview-with-south-koreas-president
Asian activists say too much egg production is cruel They are hatching ingenious schemes June 11th 2026 PEOPLE WHO farm eggs in Asia are on a roll. Across the continent egg production has quadrupled in three decades. The region now accounts for almost two-thirds of global output. Much of the growth is coming in developing countries, where demand for cheap protein is soaring. Between now and 2034 egg consumption is forecast to rise by around 30% in India and 20% in Indonesia. Yet what has been good for humans has been much worse news for birds. For years the region’s eggs came from hens raised in backyards or on small farms; today they are much more likely to flow from big industrial operations. At one such complex outside Surabaya in Indonesia—