NPR's Michel Martin talks to Adam Szubin, former head of U.S. Department of the Treasury's Office of Terrorism and Financial Intelligence, about the new U.S. economic sanctions against Iran.

In Wilbert L. Cooper’s new memoir, The Black Shield, he tells two intertwining stories: the history of the city’s Black Shield Police Association, one of the country’s oldest Black policing organizations, and the multigenerational narrative of his own family, embedded in the police force. Both of his parents and sister are retired Black Cleveland cops, and on his mother’s side, there’s been a Cleveland cop in the family since 1950. In this book about race, policing, and power, Cooper examines the complex duality of the Black cop, what it was like for his parents to navigate an institution that was hostile to their own community, and, ultimately, what this all has meant for him.

This excerpt combines the prologue and a chapter focused on his mother’s beginnings in Cleveland’s police department. Two individuals mentioned spearheaded legal efforts in the 1970s to diversify the department: Fred Johnson, the association’s president who led a lawsuit over the department’s discriminatory hiring and promotion practices, and Jean Clayton, a policewoman and the organization’s secretary whose parallel lawsuit disbanded the segregated Women’s Bureau and integrated women into the department. Below, Cooper recounts how his mother, Gayle, walked through the door that they opened. But it was not without a struggle.

—Cheri Lucas Rowlands

The gun was always there. I used to see it in flashes as Dad would get ready to leave the house. After he doused himself in spicy cologne and sliced a plastic comb through the waves of his jet-black Jheri curl, I would catch that 9-millimeter sliding between the small of his back and the belted waistband of his blue jeans. 

Mom had her own. She kept it in her purse. One of those big leather bags, the kind they show behind the counter at Dillard’s, with shiny metal clasps and countless compartments. Her gun would be in there with red lipstick, a double-sided compact mirror, and her bulky pager. I knew the gun was there because I sensed its heft whenever I’d have to move the bag off the kitchen table to do my homework. It felt like a bowling ball in a pillowcase.

Dad used to store his 9-millimeter above the fine china, on top of the large, baby-pink Victorian-style cabinet in our dining room. One time while he was sleeping, I climbed on top of the pink-velvet-upholstered chairs to get a good look at it through the scrollwork. When I came face-to-face with the gun, I was too intimidated to actually pick it up and play with it.

It took a few moments for me to work up the gumption to run my little fingers across the raised bumps of its grip. Then I touched the ridges of the slide and the smooth, cold, hard barrel from where bullets burst. And just that alone felt crazy to me. Even in the dusty, mundane space of the cabinet, the stock-still object pulsated with wild energy. It was like petting a tiger.

Even now, it’s overwhelming for me to imagine that all that calamitous potential to take life, to inflict pain, to inspire fear, to demand subservience, to have your way with the world, to finally be the actor instead of the one who is acted upon—was right there and it was theirs.

I was 7 or 8 when I saw Dad shoot that gun. It must have been the summer, because I still remember the heavy outside air kissing my arms and legs, the suburban sunlight beaming on me. I see that light reverberating off the concrete, making vivid every blade of green grass in the yard and every goose-egg stone in the gravel strips. But I cannot hear the gunshot. I cannot tune in to the boom. All I sense is the fear, because it is so foreign. I’m still there. Standing in the driveway. Stuck and dumbfounded. Until Dad’s shouts break through, begging me to run inside before those crackers come back, commanding me to have Mom call the cops.

Have you heard of Pastor Leon McCray? The man of faith who saw two White people dumping a refrigerator on his property. When McCray tried to stop them, the duo threatened him. One of the Whites ran off to grab three more racists. McCray says that’s when they all ganged up on him. That’s when they told him that his “Black life didn’t matter.” The beating didn’t stop until McCray pulled out his gun. When the police showed up at the scene, they handcuffed McCray and put him in the back of the cruiser. His assailants laughed and waved at him as he was taken off.

But at least McCray survived. You know that many of us aren’t so lucky: The police shot and killed the father Philando Castile during a traffic stop after he told them he had a firearm. The police shot and killed the father John Crawford while he was carrying a pellet rifle inside the Walmart that retailed the damn pellet rifle. Police shot Emantic F. Bradford Jr. at a shopping mall while they were responding to a call about gunshots at the mall. Witnesses say they killed Bradford as he was trying to direct shoppers to safety.

These killings now give shape and sharpness to that immense and totalizing fear I felt in the driveway as a child. That American malice is always there anytime we try to commandeer a power that wasn’t intended for us. Black people are killed or incarcerated every day for much less than what Dad did. Simply owning a gun can put a bullseye on your back. Pulling one on a White man can turn you into a hashtag.

So why did Dad want to call 911? I know that he’d tell you it was because his gun was different from Pastor Leon’s. Dad didn’t buy it at Walmart or Bass Pro alongside camouflage galoshes and fly-fishing rods. He didn’t pick it up at a gun shop with a shooting range full of targets depicting men in turbans and hip-hop gear. He didn’t procure it across state lines at a gun show with bundles of cash and no identification or background check. And he didn’t get it off the street, with scratched-out serial numbers and bodies on it.

Dad got his gun from the City of Cleveland. That’s where Mom got hers, too. Both are tools of policing, the Cooper family business. They hold up those guns and their power to use them as symbols of our freedom in a country that will not stop killing or incarcerating Black folks. When I was a child, I never questioned that contradiction. But to become my own man in the America I inherited, I realized I’d have to try to solve the paradox of my parents.

By the time the Black Shield had forced the hand of the Cleveland Police Department in 1977, Gayle had given birth to another child—a little boy named Geoffrey. Now with three kids, she was even more entrenched in a wrathful marriage and farther away from the working world. And losing her uncle Lloyd, which felt a lot like losing a father, only made her feel that much more alone. When he died, the dream of becoming a cop and the freedom the job promised died with him. 

It was at the moment that she’d almost completely resigned herself that it all came raging back. She opened up an issue of the Plain Dealer to find that people who’d taken the test with her and were lower than her on the eligibility list were being appointed to the police academy. And quickly, her despondency turned to confusion. And then her confusion turned to anger. She said to herself, “I know my number is higher than this and they’ve gone eighty past me and I’m not getting called?!” As she started to look into the issue, she found out that the city had expunged her from the eligibility list. “They were trying to lose Black folks’ stuff,” she told me. The city claimed it was because her addresses had changed and she hadn’t notified the civil service. To get back on the list, she had to go to court. “They claimed I had moved, but I owned my own home!” she said. “I told them, ‘I bought this house, I haven’t gone anywhere.’” As soon as she prevailed in her hearing, a White officer walked up to her in court. He simply said, “I’m from the academy.” He took her information. And then he said, “You will start the police academy on Monday.”

Later that same night, Fred Johnson called Gayle’s phone. It was the first time she’d ever spoken to the man. Lloyd was never big on the Shield Club, and Curtis was much closer with her younger brother, his namesake, who would join the police department five years later. Gayle didn’t have a complete idea of what the Shield Club had been up to at that point, or of how much it had shaped the situation she was walking into. Because of all the lawsuits, more than 40 percent of her classmates would be people of color and women. But the department they were entering was only 9 percent Black or Hispanic, and 2 percent women. For his part, Johnson stressed the struggle happening in the city to resist the change that Black women like Gayle represented. The academy was framed as a contentious environment controlled by people who were intent on destroying Gayle’s professional prospects and her spirit.

Despite the reforms that resulted from the Shield Club and the Women’s Law Fund cases, Gayle was still put through a series of tests, during which she could still be expunged. She had to meet with a psychiatrist, who asked her questions about her affiliations. Although this test had been revised thanks to the efforts of Fred Johnson and the Shield Club, it remained biased. As many of us conclude from a life living in this country run by White people, Gayle figured the best way to stick around was to hide herself. Her strategy was to answer every question like a White man of modest intellect.

In the 1970s, Gayle had spent a few years in the Nation of Islam. Although she never really let go of Jesus, she converted aesthetically and culturally to satisfy the whims of her second husband. She traded her hot pants for conservative flowing dresses. And instead of sweet potato pie, she started baking bean pies. When she did make a Polish Boy, she did it with beef sausage. She even traveled to Chicago once for Saviours’ Day to see the honorable Elijah Muhammad with her own eyes. But she put all that behind her when she found out that her proud Muslim husband was sleeping with a fellow “sister.” By the time she took the psych test to become a police officer, she’d gone back to straightening her hair and listening to gospel music. But some of the political knowledge she gained from the Nation, especially its perspective on America, stuck with her. She understood things differently than most—like the “riots” that happened in Hough and Glenville. She saw them as a natural reaction to the way her people had been done in this city and done in America. To her, the people who stormed the streets weren’t criminal. The crimes being committed were by the landlords renting rat-infested apartments and the Board of Education shoving kids into overcrowded schools and businesses charging a premium for rancid meat. She had a lot of ideas about these sorts of things, but none of them could feed her kids or free her from her marriage. And so she kept them to herself during her psych test.

The new hires were also required to do a complete physical examination. This was especially humiliating for Gayle. The whole ordeal was a perverse take on the idea that if women want to be in the academy, if women want to do what the men do, then they have to go through the exact same processes. For the physical exam, this meant standing around nearly nude to be ogled by their peers. “They made us stand up there in paper gowns and these guys were trying to catch glimpses at us. And they make you do stuff in the gowns so the gowns get all torn up. My breasts and everything were just hanging out,” Gayle recalled. She was so thoroughly humiliated that a fellow female in the academy came to her with some Scotch tape to try to cover her up. “They did that kind of thing because they wanted us to quit. The guys didn’t want us, their wives didn’t want us, it was terrible. They treated us like new meat, picking out which one they were going to take.” 

Fred Johnson made himself available to all the Blacks in the academy because he was prepared for the city to try to find excuses to fail them. Gayle didn’t think she’d have a problem. She was voted the vice president of the academy class and consistently scored high on all of the interstitial tests. Those high scores were attained by studying alongside her new girlfriend. But when they both got good grades on a test with similar answers, they were accused of cheating and threatened with expulsion from the academy. Fred Johnson had to step in and help them prove that they’d arrived at the same answers because they’d been preparing together.

After passing the academy, but before they could be sworn in as officers, they were also required to take a qualification test administered by the State of Ohio that evaluated their skills. Cadets could fly through the academy with high marks and still get disqualified to be a police officer. Although policewomen in Cleveland had been in the academy before the 1970s, they weren’t required to take the qualification test because officers in the women’s bureau didn’t carry guns. Anticipating that they would do whatever they could to disqualify her, Gayle prepared for the test with the desperate intensity of a woman fighting for her life. “To prepare for the running test, I used to run up and down the steps whenever I’d put the kids down for nap,” she told me. To make her qualifying time, she outran some Vietnam veterans, who threw up before they crossed the finish line. The state also required people to do a series of chin-ups and push-ups and dips that demanded upper body strength that seemed to favor the male physique, but Gayle fought her way through those. When she finally had to take her shooting test, the last phase, it was 19 degrees below zero. In 1977, Cleveland was in the midst of one of its coldest winters ever. But one of the essential rules of the academy was that it never canceled or postponed qualification tests for any reason, in an effort to help simulate what it’s like to be a police officer and have to work when everyone else gets the day off. And so Gayle stood at the outdoor range with the soft skin of her red-nailed fingers sticking to the ice-cold metal of her gun, her body involuntarily shivering, hoping the icy air didn’t tank her shot.

The first night Patrolwoman Gayle Smith reported to the Fifth District of the Cleveland Division of Police in the winter of 1977, her supervisor showed her two things: the coffee machine and the broom. It was expected that she would be the shift’s glorified janitor. But she bucked back. “I did not go through all that training to do no housekeeping. I came here to be a police officer,” she remembers saying to him, surprised by her own candor. Ridiculous as it seems now, perhaps this kind of insult by her male colleagues should have been expected. After all of the efforts by the Women’s Law Fund and Jean Clayton to break down the formal barriers in the CDP, women still constituted only 2.3 percent of the police force when Gayle started. The assholes she was working with had almost no experience working alongside women as equals and little incentive to see them as such. Gayle was basically a guinea pig. Ironically, it was because of Jean Clayton, Gayle’s initial inspiration to become a lady cop, that the women’s bureau was dissolved and lady cops ceased to exist. Although Gayle had been intent on following Clayton’s path, she found herself involved in something entirely new.

While most of the male cops were unhappy with the gender integration of the department, a lot of the women officers were displeased, too. They were especially pissed at Jean Clayton and her damn lawsuit. These were women who had no interest in being partnered with men and participating in a form of policing that oriented itself around violence and punishment. There were certainly fair criticisms of the women’s bureau, from its troubling focus on purity to the fact that its diversion efforts and empathy weren’t as equally distributed to Black suspects as they were to Whites. But I wonder if the department would be less lethal and repressive today if the men on the Cleveland Police Department had become more like the women and their women’s bureau. Instead, the women became more like the men. After the women’s bureau closed, some of its important work, such as sex crimes, was shamefully ignored or mishandled. Gayle would see this firsthand. But first she needed to get out of coffee duty.

It took some convincing, but eventually Gayle got her first assignment outside the district. After roll call, she would be taken to White City Beach, a former park on Lake Erie that in the 1940s was home to attractions like Bonavita the lion trainer, along with fishing and a yacht club. After natural disasters hurt the park and desegregation saw the City of Cleveland give up on supporting community spaces shared by both Blacks and Whites, White City Beach went the way of Euclid Beach. By the 1970s, it became a dumping ground for garbage and a place where the city parked vehicles that were towed to clear the streets for snowplows or as the result of car wrecks. That year, it was overflowing with gnarled automobiles. It had been the coldest Cleveland winter of the century, complete with “superbomb” blizzards and scores of days that were more than 20 degrees below zero. There were more than one thousand cars down there at White City Beach, but not another soul in sight.

“They dropped me off at White City Beach every night and stuck me in a shell of a car that was up on bricks and cinder blocks, with a wire heater inside of it. There was no bathroom. They’d leave me there all night and they’d come back and get me in the morning. I was just down there by myself in pitch blackness and cold. Even if I had wanted to get out, I couldn’t go nowhere. If someone had tried to steal the cars down there, there is nothing I could have done about it. It was demoralizing.”

Mom told me this in the kitchen, where I’d often heard her talk about the bad early days on the job. I’m not sure whether this was the first time I was really listening, or if she was telling it differently. Usually, her stories were never this detailed and specific. It was just “racism” and “men being nasty.” Perhaps because I was taking a real interest, she started accessing parts of the story she had often left untouched in her recounting.

There is a feeling of humiliation that stings long after an event has passed. It doesn’t just hurt because of what was done, it hurts because you feel as though you had some agency in the matter. That you let it happen. When she started telling me what it was like, I could feel her own surprise at the disregard she had endured. In the zone car with White partners, she was beneath speaking to. These were men who would greet a dog if they saw it on the street, but wouldn’t say one word to her. In this sense, despite the lawsuit and the consent decree, not much had changed on the job since the late 1950s, when White officers would “throw a shoe” to avoid being paired up with Curtis and Fred Johnson.

“When they finally had two guys take me out, they put me in the back seat where a prisoner would sit. And they didn’t let me touch the radio. They were supposed to show me some things. But instead, they got out of the car and went to eat. They just left me locked in the back of that car without saying anything. I’m just beating on the door and everything.”

It wasn’t until an old, White, Catholic officer who looked like Santa Claus decided to take Gayle under his wing that she finally got to learn a bit about real policing. The rotund veteran with snow-white hair explained to Gayle the first time she got in the car with him exactly why he was willing to teach her. It wasn’t that he was pleased about working with Blacks or with women. He simply realized the futility of resistance: “If we get rid of her, they will just send another one of them down here.”

“It was crazy to have me on the job that length of time and nobody taught me nothing except what I learned in the academy,” she remembered of her time wasted on frivolous assignments. “When he took me out, the first thing he ever told me was this: He said, ‘Okay, kid, what time is it?’ I looked for my watch. He said, ‘That is the first rule. Don’t you ever take your eye off anybody. If they ask what time it is, say you don’t know or your watch is broke. But you don’t look down.’”

It was with Santa Claus that she got to see how the men handled sex crimes now that the women’s bureau was closed. The first rape call that they ever responded to together involved a White woman. The lady had walked three doors over from where she lived to bum a cigarette from her neighbor. Before she could get back home, three men had grabbed her off the street, dragged her into a car, and took turns raping her. While Gayle was wrenched by the story, calling back to her own experiences of sexual abuse, the veteran was incredulous. “He talked to that girl so bad, I felt sorry for her,” she remembered. “He asked her, ‘What were you wearing?’ ‘Why were you out at that time of night?’ ‘What did you expect was going to happen?’ It was horrible . . . I will never forget it. That girl ended up not even filing.”

It was also alongside Santa Claus that she finally proved she could be real police, like the men. The call was a robbery at a drugstore that drew several cars to the scene. The suspect was a young Black man who managed to run out the back door. To show her tenacity, Gayle took off after him ahead of the rest of the cops, moving just as she had when she was training for the department’s entrance exam, going up and down those steps. Santa, who was heavy and plodding with bad knees, couldn’t keep up as Gayle tailed this man through an alleyway. And then from behind her, a shot rang out.

When a police shooting happens, officers come together to get their story straight. Although this was an era when it was still legal for officers in Cleveland to shoot fleeing felons, all the patrolmen made sure they agreed on what took place. After they were finished, they looked over at Gayle to see if she saw it the same way they did. Forget the police academy. The offensive rape call was a pop quiz, and this shooting was the final exam of real police shit. And Gayle passed with flying colors. “After that, I started having people to work with,” she told me. “It didn’t feel good, but I had a demon behind me.”

Browse Wilbert L. Cooper’s book-related events and appearances or buy the book today:

Wilbert L. Cooper grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio. He studied journalism at Ohio University and earned a master’s degree in publishing at New York University. He has written for outlets such as The Guardian, The New York Times, The Marshall Project, and The Wall Street Journal. His Vice documentary The Cleveland Strangler was nominated for a National Magazine Award. In 2024, he was the recipient of the Richard J. Margolis Award. The Black Shield is his first book.

NPR's Michel Martin asks the president and founder of the Emirates Policy Center how the UAE and other Persian Gulf nations view increased sanctions on Iran.

Investigamos o que importa para os brasileiros além do que passa na campanha eleitoral. Leia mais reportagens como essa clicando aqui.

Um experimento da Anistia Internacional mostrou que as medidas da Meta não estão sendo suficientes para combater a desinformação no Facebook na campanha eleitoral brasileira. A ONG internacional submeteu 14 anúncios com conteúdo desinformativo sobre as eleições brasileiras e um neutro. Oito foram aceitos, enquanto os sete restantes (incluindo o neutro) foram sinalizados para verificação de identidade por parecerem relacionados a uma questão social, eleição ou política, em vez de serem rejeitados especificamente por conterem desinformação eleitoral. Nenhum deles foi postado publicamente, portanto, os usuários não tiveram contato com o conteúdo.

Os 14 anúncios desinformativos do experimento da Anistia Internacional incluíam alegações de que as eleições de outubro deste ano seriam fraudadas e pedidos de intervenção militar. Com exceção do anúncio neutro, os 14 violaram as próprias políticas da Meta sobre desinformação, especificamente a seção relacionada à interferência na votação ou no comparecimento dos eleitores. A definição de desinformação da Meta inclui “conteúdo com potencial para interferir em processos políticos”.

Três de quatro anúncios que pediam intervenção militar foram aprovados. Um deles dizia: “Precisamos de uma revolução militar. Não vote nas eleições e os militares vão tomar o poder se houver menos de 50% de comparecimento nas urnas”.

O anúncio neutro foi incluído pela Anistia para testar a exigência de verificação de identidade feita pela Meta para a postagem de quaisquer conteúdos relacionados a eleições.

Segundo a ONG, a conta usada para o teste não concluiu o processo de verificação de identidade para manter o perfil mais neutro, de modo a evitar influência do algoritmo. Portanto, não há como saber se, caso fosse feita a verificação de identidade da conta, os anúncios seriam aceitos ou não.

Em 2025, o Facebook tinha 109,2 milhões de usuários no Brasil, segundo a plataforma de dados Statista; já o Instagram é mais popular e contava com 146 milhões de contas no mesmo ano. Os anúncios podem circular entre as plataformas.

Pouco tempo para as novas regras

De acordo com a descrição do experimento da Anistia Internacional, os anúncios refletiam “três táticas frequentemente utilizadas por políticos e candidatos para apoiar práticas autoritárias”: “deslegitimação eleitoral”, com conteúdos que minam a confiança no sistema de votação brasileiro e nos resultados; “construção do inimigo”, colocando adversários políticos e a Justiça como ameaças; e “autoritarismo com foco na segurança pública”, que traz o uso da força, da intervenção militar ou de um líder forte como respostas necessárias ao crime.

“Em vez de zelar pela participação eleitoral e pelo acesso à informação precisa, estes sistemas de moderação correm o risco de aprovar conteúdo nocivo [ao processo eleitoral]”, diz Ummar Bashir, pesquisador e consultor da Anistia para Inteligência Artificial e Direitos Humanos.

Os anúncios foram enviados de fora do Brasil, do escritório da Anistia em Londres, sem uso de VPN, recurso que poderia simular que o conteúdo fora postado em território nacional. Para a ONG, a aprovação é preocupante porque mostra “vulnerabilidades passíveis de exploração por atores nacionais ou estrangeiros que busquem influenciar processos eleitorais”.

A Meta não respondeu aos questionamentos da ONG sobre as falhas de moderação que permitiram ao Facebook aceitar os anúncios enganosos.

Questionada pela Pública, a empresa disse que investe “recursos significativos para proteger o processo eleitoral de 2026 no Brasil – da transparência em publicidade, líder do setor, à aplicação de protocolos rigorosos para anúncios sobre questões sociais, eleições ou política – e continuaremos a fazê-lo.” Afirmou ainda que o relatório da Anistia Internacional se baseou em uma amostra pequena de anúncios que nunca foram publicados. “Não reflete a escala do nosso trabalho. Nosso processo de análise de anúncios possui diversas camadas de análise e detecção, antes e depois deles serem publicados”.  

Em seu site institucional, a empresa informa que usa inteligência artificial para identificar, nos anúncios, conteúdos que possam violar suas políticas. Em seguida, segundo a empresa, o conteúdo é avaliado automaticamente ou por revisores humanos e, quando uma violação é confirmada, são aplicadas medidas como remoção, restrição ou rejeição dos anúncios, de acordo com os Padrões da Comunidade da Meta. Este conjunto de regras, de acordo com a companhia, “é baseado no feedback de usuários e especialistas em tecnologia, segurança pública e direitos humanos”.

Em 2025, dias antes da posse do presidente dos Estados Unidos, Donald Trump, o CEO da Meta, Mark Zuckerberg, anunciou uma mudança drástica nas políticas de moderação de conteúdo e checagem de dados. Segundo ele, a intenção era combater uma suposta “censura” promovida por checadores “enviesados”, dos quais ele prometeu se livrar.

“O teste da Anistia aponta motivos para preocupação, sim. No Brasil, estamos diante de uma nova exigência que altera bastante a forma de condução dos negócios de todas as plataformas, não só da Meta”, avalia Fernando Neisser, professor de Direito Eleitoral da FGV/SP. Ele se refere ao julgamento do Supremo Tribunal Federal que revisou o Artigo 19 do Marco Civil da Internet e decidiu, em 2025, que as plataformas não precisam esperar decisões judiciais para derrubar conteúdos.

Neisser lembra ainda as novas obrigações impostas pelos planos de conformidade entregues pelas plataformas ao TSE na primeira quinzena de agosto de 2026. Segundo o professor, eles determinam a necessidade de verificação temática de publicidade paga por parte das empresas de tecnologia. Os planos ainda não foram divulgados na íntegra até o fechamento desta reportagem.

“Para certos assuntos, como pornografia infantil, a verificação é fácil de ser feita com filtro automatizado. Mas é muito difícil ainda filtrar de forma automatizada temas tão contextuais, como discurso de ódio e atos antidemocráticos”, avalia Neisser, que diz que a aplicação dessas regras na eleição deste ano é pouco provável. “É muito difícil exigir a criação de mecanismos num prazo tão curto. Eles foram pedidos basicamente às vésperas do início do processo eleitoral. Não é crível imaginar uma mudança de procedimentos em um prazo tão exíguo”.

Para Jurema Werneck, diretora-executiva da Anistia Internacional Brasil, a forma como a Meta lida com a desinformação também contribui para o modelo de negócios da empresa de Zuckerberg. “O experimento mostra que a Meta não está fazendo o suficiente para impedir que sua plataforma seja um vetor de desinformação, ao mesmo tempo em que continua lucrando com os sistemas de conteúdo e publicidade que possibilitam sua disseminação”.

*Atualização às 15h18 de 25/08/2026: Inserimos o retorno da Meta.

In July 2026, the price of fuels and lubricants for personal transport in the EU increased by 16.9% compared with July 2025. This followed year-on-year increases of 20.7% in May and 13.7% in June. 

In 25 of 27 EU countries, fuels and lubricants prices were higher in July 2026, compared with July 2025. In 13 countries, July annual increases were larger than those in June 2026. However, in most countries (24), the annual rate of change in July was lower than in May 2026, when 4 countries registered annual price increases exceeding 30%. 

In July 2026, compared with July 2025, the highest increases were recorded in Romania (+24.2%), Germany and Lithuania (+22.9% each), Bulgaria (+22.2%), the Netherlands (+22.0%) and Finland (+20.5%). Prices dropped slightly in Hungary (-0.1%), while the  lowest increases were recorded in Sweden (+1.2%) and Ireland (+3.2%). 

Click to enlarge

 Source dataset: prc_hicp_minr

Diesel prices up 4.3%, petrol up 4.7% compared with June 2026 

On a monthly basis, in July 2026, EU consumers saw diesel prices increase by 4.3% and petrol by 4.7%, compared with the previous month. In June 2026, diesel had dropped by 6.4%, and petrol by 4.2% relative to May 2026.

Between June and July 2026, diesel prices increased in 17 EU countries. The highest increases were registered in Poland (+13.4%), Germany (+12.7%) and Greece (+12.1%). The prices dropped in 9 EU countries, with the largest decreases in Cyprus (-7.9%), Sweden (-7.4%) and Ireland (-6.4%).

When it comes to petrol prices, 14 countries recorded increases and 12 countries recorded decreases in prices between June and July 2026. The largest increases were in Poland (+17.2%), Germany (+11.0%) and Spain (+7.1%), while the largest decreases were recorded in Sweden (-11.1%), Cyprus (-5.4%) and Ireland (-4.1%). 

Click to enlarge

Source dataset: prc_hicp_minr

For more information

• Thematic section on harmonized indices of consumer prices
• Database on harmonized indices of consumer prices
• Statistics explained articles on harmonized indices of consumer prices
• Visualizations on the harmonized index of consumer prices
• Webinar on consumer prices and inflation
• Statistics4beginners workbook on inflation
• Education Corner with videos and exercises, including on price statistics 
• Inflation explained to kids

Methodological notes

• This data comes from Eurostat data collection for the compilation of the harmonized index of consumer prices (HICP), which is used to measure inflation in the EU.  
• Fuel prices in Malta have been fixed since 2020, therefore there was no change.
• The ECOICOP version 2 codes used for this article were:
  • CP0722 - Fuels and lubricants for personal transport equipment
  • CP07221 - Diesel
  • CP07222 - Petrol

24 August 2026 marked Ukraine's 35th anniversary of its independence. This occasion embodies Ukrainians' bravery, resistance and resilience in the face of Russia's continuous and vicious war of aggression. It also symbolises their aspiration to be a democratic and European country. On the Independence Day, the European Commission reaffirms its unshakable solidarity and commitment to Ukraine's sovereignty, independence, and territorial integrity. We continue standing with Ukraine in pursuing a comprehensive, just and lasting peace, and supporting their European path.

Over the past months, the EU has secured the first disbursements under the €90 billion Ukraine Support Loan to sustain the country's defence capabilities and reconstruction. The EU has also adopted the 21st package of sanctions further restricting Russia's ability to fund its illegal war and to carry out attacks on Ukrainian civilians and civilian infrastructure. In July 2026, President Ursula von der Leyen visited Kyiv, launching a new EU-Ukraine Defence Industrial Partnership and the EU-Ukraine Drone Deal, including an additional €1 billion in support for drone production.

The EU is leading the efforts in terms of ensuring the recovery and long-term investment in Ukraine's economy, also confirmed at the Ukraine Recovery Conference in June. It is playing a crucial role in securing the return of Ukrainian children forcibly transferred or deported by Russia, as well as in holding Russia accountable for its crimes, including through the International Claims Commission and the Special Tribunal for the Crime of Aggression against Ukraine.

Since Russia's full-scale invasion began in February 2022, the EU and its Member States have mobilised a total of €220.2 billion in humanitarian, financial, and military assistance to Ukraine and its people. Since 2024, the EU has made available €8 billion in proceeds generated by immobilised Russian Central Bank assets to support Ukraine, including €3.8 billion channelled through the European Peace Facility and the Ukraine Facility. The remaining part of the proceeds supports the repayment of G7 Extraordinary Revenue Acceleration loans through the Ukraine Loan Cooperation Mechanism.

More information on the EU's support for Ukraine is available on the webpage and factsheet.

On the Europe-wide Day of Remembrance of the victims of all totalitarian and authoritarian regimes on 23 August, Tech Sovereignty, Security and Democracy Executive Vice President Henna Virkkunen (pictured), and Democracy, Justice, the Rule of Law, and Consumer Protection Commissioner Michael McGrath, issued the following statement:

“On 23 August, we commemorate the anniversary of the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, signed in 1939 between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. That pact, and the war and devastation that followed, brought intolerable suffering to millions of people across Europe and beyond. The years that followed were marked by occupation, repression, deportation and violence on a massive scale.

"Today, we honour the memory of all those who have suffered under totalitarian and authoritarian regimes. The pain endured by victims, survivors and their families echoes across generations. Every EU country is now home to a generation that has grown up free from tyranny and oppression. For many, freedom, democracy and peace may appear self-evident, but they are not. They were secured through extraordinary courage, sacrifice, resistance and resilience, and they must never be taken for granted. Remembering the past is therefore not only a duty to those who came before us. It is also a responsibility to future generations.

"This day is a solemn reminder of the consequences of hatred, intolerance and the denial of human dignity. It calls on us to remain vigilant in defending the values on which the European Union is founded: respect for human dignity, freedom, democracy, equality, the rule of law and fundamental rights. By preserving the memory of the past, we reaffirm our commitment to a Europe built on peace, justice and solidarity.”

The statement is available online.

Kazakhstan plans to commission 845 megawatts of new power generation capacity in 2027 as part of a broader effort to meet growing electricity demand and build a reserve in the national power system. The planned projects combine gas-fired generation with renewable energy, reflecting the country’s strategy to expand capacity through multiple sources rather than relying on a single type of generation. According to the Energy Ministry, the new facilities are expected to allow Kazakhstan to fully cover its electricity needs as early as the first quarter of 2027.

By the end of the year, the country expects to generate an electricity surplus of around 1.3 billion kilowatt-hours. The 2027 expansion follows a larger planned capacity increase in 2026, when Kazakhstan expects to commission around 2.6 gigawatts of new generation. This includes four gas-fired power plants, expansions of two existing power stations and 10 new renewable energy facilities.

Together, the plans suggest that the government is seeking not only to close the gap between electricity supply and demand, but also to create additional capacity that could provide greater flexibility for the power system.

Gas and renewables form the core of new capacity

Several conventional generation projects are scheduled to be completed in 2027.

Five gas turbine units at the Zhambyl State District Power Plant are expected to add a combined 210 MW. A combined-cycle gas plant at MAEK is planned to provide 160 MW, while the first stage of the Baskuat Energoprom project will add 34.7 MW through five gas piston units. Another combined-cycle plant, developed by Kazakhmys Energy, is expected to contribute 70 MW. At the same time, the government plans to continue expanding renewable generation, with projects totaling 570 MW.

These include a 100-MW solar power plant in the Almaty Region and three solar projects in the Kyzylorda Region with a combined capacity of 70 MW. Wind projects include two 100-MW facilities in the Aktobe Region, a 50-MW wind power plant in the Kyzylorda Region, another 50-MW project in the Turkistan Region and two wind facilities in the Abai Region with a combined capacity of 100 MW. The planned renewable projects account for a substantial part of the capacity expansion, while gas-fired facilities are intended to provide additional dispatchable generation. This mix is particularly important for a power system that needs both new electricity volumes and generation that can respond to changes in demand.

From meeting demand to building a reserve

The expected 1.3 billion kilowatt-hour surplus by the end of 2027 marks an important shift in the government’s projections. The objective is no longer limited to covering immediate electricity consumption but also includes creating a reserve that could strengthen the reliability of the national grid. However, installed generation capacity and actual electricity output are not identical. The amount of electricity ultimately available to the system will depend on factors including the operating performance of new plants, fuel supply, grid infrastructure and, in the case of wind and solar projects, weather conditions.

The European Commission has approved, under the EU Merger Regulation, the creation of a joint venture by CMA CGM S.A. and TotalEnergies S.E., both of France.

The transaction relates primarily to LNG bunkering logistics services.

The Commission concluded that the notified transaction would not raise competition concerns, given that the joint venture will have negligible activities in the European Economic Area and given the companies' limited combined market positions resulting from the proposed transaction. The notified transaction was examined under the simplified merger review procedure.

More information is available on the Commission's competition website, in the public case register under the case number M.12406.

The European Commission has closed an antitrust investigation into alleged anticompetitive behaviour by Pratt & Whitney Canada Corp. (‘Pratt & Whitney'), the main supplier in the European Economic Area (‘EEA') of turboprop aircraft engines. The closure of the investigation follows the company's amendment of contractual clauses, which removes possible obstacles to access to critical input and services faced by spare parts suppliers. Spare parts are sold to customers in the EEA for the repair and maintenance of engines.

The Commission investigated whether Pratt & Whitney may have been foreclosing access to critical input and services needed by spare part suppliers, so-called used serviceable material (‘USM') suppliers, for certain turboprop aircraft engines. USM suppliers need access to used engine cores to tear them down and replenish their stock of spare parts. They also need access to certification services that attest that a spare part is airworthy and can be reused. By limiting the ability of maintenance shops in their network to sell used engine cores or provide certification services to USM suppliers, Pratt & Whitney may have restricted competition from independent USM suppliers. Following exchanges with the Commission, Pratt & Whitney amended its agreements to remove these restrictions and clarified that maintenance shops are not prevented from buying USM from other suppliers.

After thorough analysis and assessment of evidence, and considering the changes and clarifications made by Pratt & Whitney to its contractual clauses, the Commission concluded that the investigated concerns have been addressed. Further action is no longer considered a priority at EU level. Pratt & Whitney has made a public announcement on its website highlighting the changes made to its contractual clauses.

The closure of the investigation is not a finding that the conduct in question complied with EU competition rules.