For the past year China-watchers have anxiously waited for the country’s fragile economy to turn a corner. Now they worry that it is taking a turn for the worse. Investment in the all-important property sector shows no signs of improvement, while outside of property it is beginning to flag. Exports, a bright spot, face new obstacles. This week Canada said it would impose tariffs of 100% on China’s electric vehicles, which already face steep tariff barriers in America and the European Union.

The economy’s weakness was reflected in the purchasing-managers’ indices (important economics barometers) for August, published on Saturday. They showed manufacturing contracting for the fourth month in a row. The index for expectations has also fallen well below its long-term average. Over the past year China’s economy has dismayed the optimists. Now there are fewer of them left to disappoint.

For months Volodymyr Zelensky, Ukraine’s president, has been pleading with the Biden administration to allow his country to use American long-range weapons on military targets inside Russia. The barrage of missiles and drones that Russia launched against Ukraine on August 26th—the biggest such attack since the war began—has only bolstered Mr Zelensky’s case. He argued that long-range strikes could destroy Russian forces “exactly in the areas” from where they launch attacks.

But there are no signs that America, which fears prompting an escalatory response from Russia, is considering changing policy. It is reportedly even stopping Britain and France from allowing Ukraine to use their missiles against such targets. So Ukraine is developing its own missile systems. At the same press conference in which he pushed for free rein in Russia, Mr Zelensky announced that Ukraine had successfully tested a ballistic missile. Meanwhile, Ukrainian long-range drones are increasingly hitting Russian airfields and oil depots. Mr Zelensky recently revealed a new, faster jet-powered drone, the “Palanytsia”.

The war in Gaza is reaching international sport. Earlier this year the Palestinian Football Association (PFA) asked FIFA, football’s global governing body, to ban Israel from the game. PFA argues that Israel has broken FIFA’s statutes. It points to Israel’s use of football stadiums in Gaza to detain displaced Palestinians and the existence of Israeli clubs in settlements in the occupied West Bank.

It is not the first time the PFA has called on FIFA to suspend Israel. The association made a similar request in 2015, accusing Israel of discriminating against Palestinian players. It ultimately dropped its bid. FIFA has said it will make a decision by Saturday, but it has pushed back deadlines before. Another delay is possible. But to increase the pressure, the PFA has pointed out the speed with which FIFA acted to suspend Russia in 2022, after its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

British literary festivals are having a tough year. After a row with activists, Baillie Gifford, a Scottish asset manager, cut sponsorship ties with ten book festivals in May and June, including Hay, Britain’s most prestigious. With state subsidies shrinking, organisers face the daunting task of cobbling together funding.

The future of book festivals may be uncertain, but the events themselves are joyous. This weekend, in a leafy corner of north London, bibliophiles will gather for “Queen’s Park Book Festival”. The event, which relies on state funding, sponsors and donations, boasts a stacked line-up of literary celebrities. Headliners include Alan Bennett, the esteemed author of “Talking Heads” and “The History Boys”, and Sir Michael Palin of “Monty Python”. Elif Shafak, a British-Turkish bestselling writer, will discuss her new novel. The festival has “the charm of a village fete”—with crafts for children and a lively comedy evening—yet its big-speaker events are sold out. That should be an encouraging sign for bibliophiles everywhere.

Sahra Wagenknecht launched a political party only in January, but it is already shaking up politics in eastern Germany. With her brightly coloured suits, sleek hairstyle and good looks, Ms Wagenknecht has been a star of television chat shows for years—criticising Angela Merkel’s “welcome culture” for migrants, the government’s measures to fight the covid pandemic and, more recently, its support for Ukraine.

But her party, the Sahra Wagenknecht Alliance (BSW)—which offers a hotch-potch of far-right policies (on immigration and culture) and far-left ones (on social spending)—has propelled her to political stardom. It is forecast to win 15-20% of votes in elections in Saxony and Thuringia, two states in eastern Germany, on September 1st, compared with 6.2% nationally in European Parliament elections in June. The hard-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) is forecast to come first in Thuringia and a very close second in Saxony, but it is shunned by every other party likely to cross the threshold of 5% of votes, which is needed to enter parliament. The BSW will be an essential part of an anti-AfD coalition.

This is a remarkable achievement for a woman who joined the already failing successor of the East German Communist Party, in 1989, at the age of 20. She was born in Jena, in the former East Germany, to a German mother and Persian father who returned to Iran when she was three, and grew up in East Berlin with her mother. She stayed a Communist after the fall of the Berlin Wall and has lavished praise on some of Stalin’s policies. She has sometimes expressed nostalgia for the old German Democratic Republic, and refuses to call it a dictatorship. She pushes back on her reputation for being chilly—one commentator said she has “a freezer’s ability to empathise”—describing herself as “very emotional, someone who can also cry”.

The BSW’s rise alarms centrists. Ms Wagenknecht blames NATO more than Vladimir Putin for the war in Ukraine. She wants immediate negotiations to end the war and opposes the federal government’s recent agreement to allow American missiles to be stationed in Germany from 2026. This weekend’s elections are “a vote on war and peace”, she says.

Such views are among the biggest obstacles to the BSW joining in coalition with the centre-right Christian Democratic Union (CDU). But to keep the AfD out of power, the CDU might well pursue one. The conservative mainstream might otherwise sympathise with her desire for sharp curbs on immigration and her criticism of “woke” politics.

The BSW ’s reliance on its eponymous leader is likely to become its biggest problem. Ms Wagenknecht sees herself as an outsider who revels in rebellion. As party leader and kingmaker she will need diplomacy and a talent for compromise—skills she has so far shown few signs of possessing.