Australians delivered a surprise election result on Saturday; not because of who won but by the scale of the victory.

It marks a strong recovery for Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and his center-left Labor party, which had been slumping in the polls earlier this year, and follows a similar swing away from conservatives in Canada in the early months of the second US presidency of Donald Trump.

As the final seats are allocated and the center-right Liberal Party surveys the damage – including the loss of its leader, Peter Dutton, from parliament – here are five takeaways.

‘Trump effect’ boosts another left-leaning government

Albanese’s defeat of Dutton mirrors the outcome of Canada’s federal election last week, where the once-struggling left-leaning Liberal Party soared to victory thanks to a Trump-inspired popularity boost.

In a remarkable political rebound, Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney’s Liberals bested Pierre Poilievre’s Conservatives after Trump’s tariffs and threats to annex its neighbor changed the fortunes of the governing party, which had been trailing in the polls for years.

While Australia has not faced the same affront to its sovereignty as Canada, the similar election results show Trump’s influence in the domestic politics of longtime US allies.

Dutton was dubbed a ‘Temu Trump’ by his critics – a reference to the budget Chinese online marketplace – in a characterization that may have contributed to his downfall in Australia, where trust in the US has been eroded, according to recent surveys.

Despite claiming that he was his “own person,” Dutton was accused of stoking culture wars and took aim at migrants and the news media in rhetoric that resembled Trump’s.

Dutton spent weeks trying to distance himself from the tariff-tossing US leader, but it wasn’t enough to convince Australian voters that he was the right person to lead the country through this moment of global turmoil.

Result could signal new era of political stability in Australia

Saturday’s result made Albanese the first Australian prime minister to win re-election for 20 years, and could herald an end to the revolving door of leaders that has defined the nation’s politics since the turn of the millennium.

Albanese will start his second term with at least 85 seats in the 150-seat lower house – a significant majority in Australia – while the Liberal coalition currently holds just 37, according to the latest count by public broadcaster the ABC.

The country has had six different prime ministers in the last 18 years, most of whom lasted about three years in office, in line with the frequency of Australian elections. But a commanding win and healthy majority set Albanese up for another three years or even more. That potentially gives him the opportunity to shape the country’s politics in his and his party’s image in a way no leader has since the Liberals’ John Howard in the late 1990s and early 2000s.

During a time of trade turmoil, he was able to demonstrate a steady hand, striking an authoritative tone in response to Trump’s decision to impose 10% tariffs on Australia, which were later paused.

Local disaster for Dutton compounds national defeat

Dutton not only lost the national contest, but was also ousted from his own seat in the northeastern state of Queensland, in a shock defeat to Labor’s Ali France.

It was another echo of events in Canada, where Poilievre lost his longtime seat in rural Ottawa.

Dutton had held the Dickson seat for more than two decades, and had twice before seen off a challenge from France, a former journalist, world champion para-athlete and disability advocate who lost her leg in a 2011 accident.

After her victory, France paid tribute to her son Henry, who died from leukemia last year.

“My son, Henry, he wanted me to do this. He was convinced that I would win this,” France told Sky News after her win. “I thought I wouldn’t be running, because I would be caring for him. And he would say to me, ‘No, Mum, you have to do this. I know you’re going to win this this time.’ And I feel he’s been with me on this journey,” she said.

Dutton congratulated France in his concession speech Saturday, in which he also mentioned his political rival’s recent bereavement.

“I said to Ali, her son, Henry, would be incredibly proud of her tonight, and she’ll do a good job as a local member for Dickson,” Dutton said.

Cost of living and climate concerns outweighed culture wars

Australian voters put their faith in Albanese’s plans for tackling the high cost of living and climate change over Dutton’s Trump-style ideological approach, which at times did not appear to be backed by policy proposals.

Dutton called Indigenous “welcome to country” ceremonies “overdone” and said they shouldn’t be performed at sports games or military events. In 2023, Dutton successfully campaigned against the government’s referendum on the Voice proposal, which included constitutional recognition for Indigenous Australians.

He also claimed Australia takes in too many migrants, and branded the public broadcaster “hate media.”

Dutton vowed to crack down on “woke” culture and promised to end “indoctrination” in schools, before later clarifying his party didn’t have any plans to change the curriculum.

Australian voters, meanwhile, seemed more moved by cost-of-living concerns and climate change – two areas in which Dutton was seen as not having a strong enough strategy.

While Albanese was criticized for not doing enough to tame rising living costs during his first term, in the years ahead he’s promised a tax cut, cheaper medicines, lower deposits for first-time buyers and 1.2 million houses to ease the housing crisis.

Similarly, despite criticism over his approval of new coal and gas projects in his first term, Albanese reiterated his commitment to climate action, in contrast to the rolling assault inflicted by the new US administration on environment agencies and research.

All Australians know “renewable energy is an opportunity we must work together to seize for the future of our economy,” Albanese said to cheers.

“Kinder” politics prevails

As the son of a single mother who often talks about growing up on a housing estate, Albanese has long cast himself as champion for social mobility and a “kinder” form of politics.

“My mum had a hard life, and we struggled financially, but she taught me to always be positive and see the best in people when it comes to Australia’s future,” he said.

During the campaign, he frequently tried to distance himself and Dutton. Asked whether Trump had helped his campaign, by darkening the brand of strongman leaders, Albanese told the ABC on Monday that Dutton had done that by himself.

During his victory speech, Albanese shut down boos in the crowd when he mentioned he’d spoken to Dutton. “No, no,” he said to an enthusiastic crowd of Labor supporters in Sydney. “What we do in Australia is we treat people with respect,” he said to cheers.

Albanese didn’t mention Trump but alluded to his presence in campaign discussion. “We do not need to beg or borrow or copy from anywhere else. We do not seek out as inspiration overseas. We find it right here, in our values and in our people,” he said.

Ukraine has claimed it shot down a Russian Su-30 fighter jet in the Black Sea using a seaborne drone for the first time.

“This is the first time in the world that a combat aircraft has been destroyed by a marine drone,” the Defense Intelligence of Ukraine said in a statement on Saturday, adding it “burst into flames in the air and eventually fell into the sea.”

Ukraine’s military intelligence said one of its units destroyed the fighter jet on Friday with a Ukrainian Magura drone near the port of Novorossiysk – a key port city for Russia where Ukraine claims there are remnants of Russia’s Black Sea fleet.

Russia’s defense ministry has not commented on the incident, although the claim was backed up by a Russian military blogger.

“The Ukrainians brought more than three dozen sea-drones… to the Novorossiysk area… After [our] jet was hit, the crew ended up in the water, surrounded by enemy sea-drones,” Fighterbomber said on Telegram Saturday.

Ukraine’s military intelligence claimed in December last year it destroyed two Russian helicopters “for the first time in the world” using the seaborne Magura V5 missile drone created by Ukraine’s military and engineers.

Kyiv has increasingly turned to drones to level the playing field with Russia, which boasts superior manpower and resources. Since Russia’s illegal annexation of Crimea in 2014 – and following further losses after Russia’s 2022 invasion – Ukraine no longer has a functioning navy in the Black Sea.

Drones have proved effective against some of the toughest ships of Moscow’s Black Sea fleet. They are controlled from afar via a Starlink connection and can be pre-programmed for the long journeys across the Black Sea.

In February last year, Ukraine said it sank the Ivanovets, a Russian guided-missile ship in the Black Sea. Its most notable strike was on the Moskva in April 2022, which was a huge morale boost for Kyiv in the early weeks of the war.

Like the other ceremonies and traditions that accompany the advent of a new pope, his newly chosen name will be imbued with centuries of Catholic history and dissected for its many layers of meaning.

Changing his name is one of the first actions the new pope takes as head of the Roman Catholic Church and can play a hugely symbolic role in setting the tone for his pontificate.

It is a precedent that was set in the early Middle Ages and, while there is no doctrinal reason for a pope to choose a new name, it has become part of the election process.

So, how did this tradition come about, what are the meanings behind different papal names, what name could the next pope choose and how will it be announced?

Why do popes choose a new name?

St. Peter, the first pope and one of the 12 apostles, was renamed from his birth name of Simon by Jesus, but this was before he became head of the church.

Another 500 years would pass before Pope John II, who was head of the church from 533 to 535, started the papal tradition when he shed the name Mercurius, which he thought was too like the name of the pagan god Mercury.

The next pope to change his name was Peter Canepanova in the 10th century, who became John XIV to avoid being called Peter II (more on that below), said Liam Temple, assistant professor in the history of Catholicism at the Centre for Catholic Studies at Durham University.

After the 10th century, taking a different name became common practice for popes once they had been elected, as popes from countries such as France and Germany adopted more Italian-sounding names to mimic their predecessors.

And that then became the custom, with only a handful of popes keeping their baptismal names since, including Marcellus II and Adrian VI, who both served as head of the church in the 16th century.

What makes a pope choose a specific name?

Each name is steeped in its own history and connotations, linked to the achievements or failings of the previous popes or saints who carried it.

For example, Pope Francis chose his papal name to honor St. Francis of Assisi, with his love for peace and nature, as well as his care for the poor and focus on cooperation between different sects of the church. These associations established the priorities for Francis’ papacy.

His predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, chose his papal name to show his commitment to peace and reconciliation by honoring St. Benedict and Pope Benedict XV, who was head of the church during World War I, Temple said.

Are any names off-limits?

One name that the new pope definitely won’t adopt is Peter, out of respect for the first pope, St. Peter the Apostle – but also perhaps because of a centuries-old prophecy that Peter II will be the last pope to serve.

There are other names that aren’t necessarily off-limits but are less likely to be chosen because of their associations with the most recent pope who bore them, said Temple.

He identifies the name Urban as an unlikely candidate for the new pope because it would “harken back to Urban VIII, who started the trial of Galileo Galilei, and would not sit well in modern debates about science, faith and religion.”

In a similar vein, the name Pius would evoke memories of Pius XII, whose role during World War II has been increasingly criticized, Temple added.

What could the next pope be called?

If the new pope wishes to continue on a reforming path, Temple said that names like Leo, referencing Leo XIII who was known for his dedication to social justice, fair wages and safe working conditions, or Innocent, referencing Innocent XIII who sought to root out corruption, might be appropriate choices.

A new pope who is elected from the Global South, like Pope Francis, may also choose a name adopted by early non-Italian pontiffs such as Gelasius, Miltiades or Victor, who all hailed from the African continent, Temple added.

Over the centuries, there have been 44 papal names used only once – most recently Pope Francis’ own.

His decision to choose a unique name had “massive historical ramifications,” Temple said, for “it had been around 1,100 years since the last uniquely named pope in the form of Pope Lando, whose pontificate lasted less than a year in the 10th century.”

John is the most popular name, with 21 popes choosing to adopt it – although, somewhat confusingly, the last pope to take that name was John XXIII, after historians accidentally misnumbered the popes after John XIV.

Gregory and Benedict are also popular pontifical names with 16 and 15 uses, respectively, while Innocent and Leo come close behind with 13 uses each. (Benedict X was declared an antipope, and expelled from the papal throne, hence the discrepancy in numbering for subsequent Benedicts.)

How will the new pope’s name be announced?

After white smoke has risen from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel and the bells of St. Peter’s have rung, the newly elected pope’s name will be conveyed to the world in a Latin pronouncement.

The senior cardinal deacon will step onto the central balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica, accompanied by two priests, and will deliver the iconic announcement: “Habemus Papam” (“We have a pope”).

The new pope’s name, as well as his baptismal names, will be translated into Latin in the announcement but his former surname will remain in his native language.

For example, when Pope Francis was elected in 2013, his given names of “Jorge Mario” were delivered as “Giorgio Marium,” but his surname “Bergoglio” remained the same.

His papal name was announced as “Franciscum” and was the last word of the proclamation, as is customary.

Romanians voted on Sunday in the first round of a presidential election that could propel hard-right eurosceptic George Simion to power in a ballot that will test the rise of Donald Trump-style nationalism in the European Union.

Simion, 38, opposes military aid to neighboring Ukraine, is critical of the EU leadership and says he is aligned with the US president’s Make America Great Again movement.

Five months after a first attempt to hold the election was canceled after the first round because of alleged Russian interference in favor of far-right frontrunner Calin Georgescu, since banned from standing again, his heir apparent Simion leads opinion polls, riding a wave of popular anger.

About 1.98 million Romanians, or 11% of registered voters, had cast ballots by 0710 GMT, data showed. Voting will end at 9 p.m. (1800 GMT) with exit polls to follow immediately and preliminary results expected later in the evening.

Simion voted alongside Georgescu, who called the election a “fraud” and urged people to take their country back. As dozens of people thronged outside the voting station chanting “Calin for president,” Simion said his vote was “to restore democracy.”

Simion is polling at around 30%, a comfortable lead but well short of the 50% he needs to avoid a run-off on May 18.

“George Simion equals Calin Georgescu, he gets my vote,” said Aurelia, 66, a pensioner who declined to give her last name. She said she felt “humiliated” by the cancellation of November’s first round.

“Everything is lacking here. My children are not here: Did they leave to work abroad because things were so good here?”

Political analysts said an ultimate victory for Simion could isolate the country, erode private investment and destabilize NATO’s eastern flank, where Ukraine is fighting a three-year-old Russian invasion.

Simion’s main rivals are two centrists – former senator Crin Antonescu, 65, backed by the three parties in the current pro-Western government, and Bucharest Mayor Nicusor Dan, 55, running as an independent on an anti-corruption platform.

Both are pro-EU and pro-NATO and back Ukraine. Victor Ponta, a former leftist prime minister who has turned conservative nationalist, is ranked fourth but could prove a dark horse.

MAGA-style leaders

Simion is not the only MAGA-style politician seeking election in central Europe. Karol Nawrocki, the presidential candidate backed by Poland’s main nationalist opposition party in a presidential election on May 18, met Trump this week.

If elected, they would expand a cohort of eurosceptic leaders that already includes the Hungarian and Slovak prime ministers.

“Romania and Poland are two important countries for the United States,” Simion told Reuters on Friday.

“We represent partners and we represent allies, both military and politically, to the current (US administration. This is why it is important for MAGA presidents to be in charge in Bucharest and Warsaw.”

Romania’s president has a semi-executive role that includes commanding the armed forces and chairing the security council that decides on military aid.

To date, Romania has donated a Patriot air defense battery to Kyiv, is training Ukrainian fighter pilots and has enabled the export of some 30 million metric tons of Ukrainian grain through its Black Sea port of Constanta since Russia’s invasion.

The country’s president can also veto important EU votes and appoints the prime minister, chief judges, prosecutors and secret service heads.

The Trump administration has accused Romania of suppressing political opposition and lacking democratic values after November’s election was canceled on what Vice President JD Vance called “flimsy evidence.”

A team of US observers were in Bucharest for Sunday’s vote alongside diplomats and monitors from dozens of countries.

“There is clear evidence that there was some sort of nefarious activity going on in the November election,” James E. Trainor III, Commissioner of the US Federal Election Commission, told Reuters in Bucharest.

“Time is going to prove that … it was a good decision (to cancel). I know it’s an extreme step, but … what we see is that Romanian democracy is actually stronger because (it) had this bump in the road, but yet was resilient enough of a democracy to make its way through it.”

It’s Saturday night at a rooftop bar in downtown Atlanta, and the band Orden Activa is about to launch into a Mexican ballad.

What seemed like a shy and reserved audience suddenly transforms as the opening chords of the trotting polka begin. The crowd rises to its feet and sings in Spanish as the dance floor dissolves into a sea of cowboy hats:

“I’m the ruler of the roosters
Of the Jalisco cartel.
I’ve got fighting cocks
Who duel for my crew.”

With their gently bobbing heads, matching leather jackets and knowing smiles, their act hardly screams controversy – or at least not to the casual observer.

Yet last month, a group that sang the very same song – “El del Palenque” (“He of the Cockfighting Arena”) – was barred from the United States in an unprecedented move that critics say raises troubling questions about free speech in America.

Their transgression, according to the State Department? “Glorifying (a) drug kingpin.”

The song is a narcocorrido: a ballad about the drug trafficking underworld. The band that wrote it – Los Alegres del Barranco – landed in hot water with both US and Mexican authorities recently when they performed the tune in the Mexican city of Zapopan.

That performance, in which the group sang about the exploits of El Mencho, the leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel, in front of a cartoon portrait of him, not only ended the band’s plans for a US tour but left them the subject of a criminal investigation on their home turf.

As one of six Mexican drug cartels the Trump administration has declared Foreign Terrorist Organizations, the Jalisco cartel is at the center of growing US-Mexico tensions over cross-border crime. Authorities in both countries took exception when video of the concert went viral.

The venue where Los Alegres del Barranco performed swiftly apologized; the Jalisco prosecutor’s office vowed to investigate; and Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum warned the band may have broken the law. Then the US State Department revoked their visas.

“The last thing we need is a welcome mat for people who extol criminals and terrorists,” said US Deputy Secretary of State Christopher Landau in a post on X. “In the Trump administration, we take seriously our responsibility over foreigners’ access to our country.” The band apologized on Facebook the next day.

While songs about the drug trade have been censored on and off in Mexico for years, observers say increasing pressure from the Trump administration to clamp down on cartels has fueled a new wave of bans on public performance of narcocorridos in several Mexican states. Even more worryingly, they say, are signs that Mexican bands are beginning to self-censor in the fear that upsetting US authorities could compromise their ability to tour.

The action against Los Alegres del Barranco is the first time the State Department has punished a Mexican band in this way, according to Elijah Wald, author of an English-language guide to the genre. Some critics paint it as the latest anti-Mexico move by the Trump administration, which has already strained ties with its immigration crackdowns and tariff policies.

“(These bands) have been saved up to now by the fact that nobody spoke Spanish,” Wald said. “And when I say ‘nobody,’ I mean the people who are enforcing this kind of silliness. The revoking of visas obviously has very little to do with the songs. It has to do with a politics of revoking visas.”

Old tradition, modern appeal

The State Department’s rebuke may have ruined Los Alegres del Barranco’s planned US tour, but it has done little to dent the popularity of either the band or the genre. If anything, it gave both a boost.

Figures from Billboard show the band subsequently gained over 2 million new listens on streaming services, proof if any were needed of the enduring modern appeal of a genre rooted in 19^th century folk music that has long romanticized outlaws, outcasts and underdogs.

Early corridos or ballads celebrated the exploits of “famous bandits, generals, sometimes horses, sometimes fighting roosters as well,” according to Sam Quinones, a writer who covers music and the drug trade in Mexico and California.

“It was almost like a musical newspaper,” Quinones said. “This became a very common kind of entrenched genre of popular music.”

During Prohibition in the 1920s, a new subgenre – the narcocorrido – emerged to tell the tales of those smuggling illicit alcohol from Mexico to the United States, explained author Wald.

A century later and that subgenre is still booming. The most popular musical artist among US YouTube users in 2023 was not Taylor Swift, but the narcocorrido singer Peso Pluma.

Corrupted art form or moral panic?

But experts say a cultural shift took place when drug traffickers began paying musicians to write songs about themselves in the mid-1980s, when the legendary “King of Corridos” Chalino Sanchez began accepting commissions.

“He wasn’t necessarily the first, but he was the key figure in that shift, which significantly changed the economics of the business,” Wald said. “It meant anybody with money could commission a laudatory corrido.”

Since then, many singers and groups “have been sponsored by or have performed for specific figures in the narco-world, and are thought of as being aligned with particular cartels,” Wald said, leading to a situation that’s “definitely dangerous for the artists.”

Case in point: Chalino Sanchez was shot dead after a concert in Sinaloa in 1992. His murder remains unsolved.

Some fans, like Quinones – who is writing a biography of Sanchez – are critical of this shift.

“The corrido used to be about a simple man going up against power, knowing he was doomed, knowing he was going to die and fighting anyway,” Quinones said. “It became corrupted, in my opinion, when it became in praise of power, in praise of these bloodthirsty men with enormous power who killed wantonly.”

Others, though, dismiss the notion that narcocorridos encourage the violence and crime they portray, likening them to gangster-rap, video games or films like The Godfather.

“People say, ‘Oh, parents, don’t let your kid play Call of Duty, or your kid’s gonna grow up to be a shooter!’” said Ray Mancias, a 19-year-old guitarist who performed after Orden Activa at the show in Atlanta.

“I think that’s the way they’re seeing (narcocorridos) as well. They think if all these kids keep listening to it, that they’re going to get influenced by it and they’re going to start doing it. But at the end of the day, the way you grow up is your parents. No music is going to change that.”

Noel Flores – one of Orden Activa’s two singers – suggests authorities that try to ban narcocorridos risk shooting themselves in the foot.

“That’s just gonna make people want it more,” Flores said.

Canceling corridos

While some Mexican states have tried to ban the songs, and the US State Department their singers, Mexico’s President Sheinbaum has taken a softer approach – ruling out a nationwide ban and proposing instead that the government promote music about peace and love as an alternative – a position that has led to some ridicule.

“She’s trying the rather comical alternative of trying to sponsor nice music that people will listen to instead, which is charming,” Wald said. “But no, that’s not going to work.”

Of course, if authorities can’t find a way through the debate, it’s not only the bands that will lose, but fans in both Mexico and the US.

“With everything going on with (Trump), as a Mexican, cancelling corridos makes us feel more ‘less,’” said Emmanuel Gonzalez, who attended the concert in Atlanta.

Other fans have been rowdier about the idea of cancelling corridos.

When the singer Luis R. Conriquez refused to play drug-themed music at an April concert in Texcoco, Mexico, citing a local ban, he told the booing audience, “There are no corridos tonight. Should we just go home?”

They answered by trashing the stage. (Conriquez later defended his decision, saying he “must follow the new rules the government has set regarding corridos.”)

Oswaldo Zavala, a professor of literature and expert on narcoculture, says many musicians are self-censoring not out of deference to Mexican authorities, but “in response to Donald Trump’s presidency… the fear that (Trump) may revoke their visas that allow them to perform and produce their music in the US.”

A few days after their Atlanta concert, Orden Activa posted a video of their performance alongside the caption: “Let’s see if they don’t take away our visa. Don’t believe it’s a joke.”

Still, amid the fears there are those that take comfort in the irony that driving underground a form of music that has always celebrated outlaws will likely make it only more popular.

As another member of the audience in Atlanta, Violet Uresti, puts it: “I like the vibe. I like the way it brings people together. If they ban it, we’re still gonna listen to it.”