Foreign Policy Blogs

The three points of security contention for the West; Russia, Iran and China, seemed to become ever closer until recently when Russia stepped aside during the US attack on Iran’s nuclear program. For years, closer ties came with North Korean soldiers and former PLA Chinese mercenaries contributing to Russia’s front with Ukraine, a relationship previously thought to be only as a parts supplier of China to Russia’s industrial base. China’s links in the Middle East and recent moves in becoming a broker between Saudi interests and Iran’s interests ended with an evacuation of the region as entrenched Russian allies fell and international shipping became targets, affecting Russian, Chinese and international trade interests.

Much of the reversal of the Axis came with assertive moves from the US and their allies against ties between Russia, Iran and China. With the US and Europe now fully united in the re-invigoration of NATO and a full defense of Ukraine, moves by the Axis has galvanised the West militarily on the Ukrainian front, in focusing on Iran, and may quickly collect a united front if China was to attack Taiwan or India. A tactical error that would mirror Sweden and Finland’s ascension into NATO would be for China to pressure both NATO and India’s common security interests as India and NATO would rapidly form defensive alliances if either interests faced military pressure from China or their regional allies in Asia.

The lack of success on the battlefield by the Axis may explain other policy developments that are designed to fracture the Western alliance, mostly by playing the Delay Card and forcing internal upheaval in Western countries. The targeting of Western norms, via the normalization of disproportionately eroding actions in local communities, clearly function by permanently altering Western interests and the internal degradation of Western norms. Most of these orchestrated events come about when there is a Western victory or paradigm shift towards Western interests, often countered by leadership in the West that have low approval ratings or are in power due to outside interest campaigns.

The race to tear down the internal strength of Western powers must be juxtaposed with the deterioration of regimes in Russia and China due to age or political divisions within their Cabinets and ruling party politics. It is hoped that stability can hold so that Western countries would not fracture, nor would countries like Russia or China fracture, as it would likely lead to a more complicated security situation in both countries. A fractured Russia and/or China is bad for the West as it would harm both local allies and adversaries of Western powers. The race to the bottom must not hit the floor, as the end result is bad for everyone.

Since the October 7th massacre, Israeli society has been greatly torn between those who send their children to the army and are suffering the effects of the war, and Haredim who are exempt from sending their children to the army.  Many segments of Israeli society that send their children to the army are growing greatly resentful of the Haredim, who do not send their children to the army, especially as the causalities from the Gaza War continue to rise, with almost every day us hearing about soldiers who were killed in action.

Israeli society is furthermore torn between those who want this war to end as soon as possible and for the hostages to be released by whatever means necessary, and those who would like to see Hamas militarily defeated, even if it means that not all of the hostages will make it back. While Israeli society has always been divided between the secular and the religious, the right and the left, these divisions have only grown stronger since the October 7th massacre.   In the eyes of some, these internal divisions pose a grave threat to Israeli society, as it is hard to focus one’s efforts on fighting external threats if one lacks a united home front. Some argue that these internal divisions have gotten so bad that they threaten the future functioning of the State of Israel.

The Dor Moria Think Tank recently proclaimed, “Israeli society faces a crisis that transcends traditional political or religious divisions. According to groundbreaking research by the Dor Moriah Analytics Center, the nation is trapped within what researchers call an “ontological bubble”—a self-perpetuating system of mutual antagonism that threatens the very fabric of the state.”

According to the Dor Moria Think Tank, “This isn’t merely another analysis of Israel’s well-documented secular-religious divide or left-right political split. The ontological bubble represents something far more insidious: a complete breakdown in shared reality, where opposing worldviews have crystallized into simplified, irreconcilable narratives that feed on conflict itself.”

“The Dor Moriah Center’s extensive research program—encompassing 14 nationwide sociological studies, 5 expert surveys, and collaboration with leading Israeli polling firms Maagar Mochot and Geocartography—has revealed a disturbing pattern,” the Dor Moria Think Tank noted. “Israeli society has bifurcated into two dominant, antagonistic worldviews: the “secular-liberal” and the “religious-conservative.””

“What makes this an ontological bubble rather than a conventional societal split,” one may ponder. According to the researchers, “it’s the self-sustaining nature of these divisions. Traditional information campaigns or dialogue initiatives don’t bridge the gap—they actually intensify it. Any attempt at neutral positioning triggers negative reactions from both sides. The bubble feeds on conflict, growing stronger with each clash.”

Dr. Lola Kolpina, a sociologist at Haifa University and one of the study’s authors, noted that “the high level of radicalization in respondent answers revealed by the study should be considered. On the most significant social issues, most people take extreme positions, reflecting not so much a process of situation analysis as a behavioral strategy oriented toward pushing through their values and interests rather than dialogue and interest coordination.”

The data confirms this grim assessment:

• Only 27.2% hold moderate positions on the state structure question
• Radical positions outnumber moderate ones by 1.5 times on key issues
• The polarization coefficient for critical dichotomies approaches zero, indicating maximum conflict potential

For example, 45% of ultra-Orthodox Jews frame the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as an existential clash between Judaism and Islam.   However, only 30.1% of secular Jews share this view, with 34.1% seeing the Palestinian-Israeli conflict as territorial dispute.   While 30.8% of Israelis favor complete annexation of Palestinian territories—the single most popular position—most (52%) doubt it would resolve the conflict. Yet they’re equally pessimistic about alternatives—only 22.6% believe peaceful coexistence is possible without territorial changes.  Nevertheless, 56.9 percent of the ultra-Orthodox support complete annexation of all Palestinian areas, while only 23.3 percent of secular Jews support this extreme position.

This ontological bubble according to the researchers at the Dor Moria Think Tank adversely affect the functioning as Israel as a state, leaving the state strongly divided between those who are religious versus secular, those who favor a one-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict compared to a two-state solution.  According to the researchers, unless the issue of the ontological bubble is addressed, Israel will not be able to exist in its present form, as the high level of conflict between the sides and the lack of national solidarity will make it difficult for Israel to function in its present format.

We are already beginning to see signs of how the ontological bubble is adversely affecting the functioning of the Israeli government. Elana Sztokman, co-host at Women Ending War Podcast, recently stated on Facebook: “The Knesset has quietly continued with a whole series of terrible actions aimed at breaking democratic processes and enabling the government to do whatever it wants without any criticism. Among other things, they are frantically trying to remove from office anyone who disagrees with their actions, such as the Attorney General Gali Miara Baharav (still in place, thus far, but in peril), Mk Ayman Odeh (saved for now), and the Knesset speaker Yuli Edelstein — out.”

According to Sztokman, “Edelstein, who I don’t have any particular affinity for considering he has spent most of the past two years as an obedient arm of this corrupt government, did exactly one thing that reflects a possibly lingering conscience within him. That is, he refused to automatically allow the continuing of the haredi draft exemption, while the rest of the country is suffering through this war. For that, for still believing in what’s called “sharing the burden” and putting a stop to the free-flowing faucet of budgets and exemptions for the ultra-Orthodox, he was fired from his speaker job and other important Knesset positions.”

“Now, his powerful position as chair of Knesset’s Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee is about to go to a little-known Knesset member named MK Hanoch Milwidsky,” she added. “Aside from being a Netanyahu loyalist who will do whatever Bibi wants, there is another little item worth knowing about this little Milwidsky guy: He is under investigation for rape. Multiple rapes. His victims are still coming forward.”

However, prominent Middle East scholar Dr. Mordechai has a quite different view than Sztokman and the Dor Moria Think Tank: “Polarization is dangerous when both sides are equal in their power. However, the right side is much more powerful than the left side of the spectrum in Israel. This is why the left stick to the judicial system, the arts, academia, the economy, and media in order to hold onto power. The smaller they become, the more perspicuous they are and more extreme in their actions against the majority. Since this risk is unbalanced, they will finish when the left will be finished and it is going in that direction.”

According to Dr. Kedar, “This is what the demography leads to, with the religious population bigger and more numerous and the secular population smaller and therefore, they become more and more violent. A lady was recently arrested for wanting to acquire a weapon and use it against the prime minister. This means they are desperate. The left lacks significant leadership for they are a large array of positions, which vary from ultra-leftists who identify with Hamas to people who are more centric and define themselves as left because they don’t want to define themselves as right.”

Dr. Kedar feels that polarization in American society is a greater issue than it is in Israeli society: “American society is polarized for it is half and half.   They are divided between Democrats and Republicans. Here, the system represents the people much better for we have a multi-party system for people stick to their parties that they supported in the past. This is the way to manage with this.”    

Source: World Bank

At the core of the strategic rivalry between the United States and China lies China’s heavy dependence on maritime trade routes. As of early 2025, about 57.3% of China’s foreign trade transited by sea, with exports reaching nearly $325 billion in June alone. This maritime reliance underscores the economic dominance of China’s eastern coastal regions—Beijing, Shanghai, Guangdong, Jiangsu, and Shandong—which together generated over $5.1 trillion in GDP in 2024. These provinces thrive on export-oriented manufacturing and port infrastructure, while inland regions such as Wuhan and Chengdu, despite faster population growth and rising consumption, continue to lag economically, with GDP per capita roughly half that of the coastal hubs in 2023. This stark regional disparity creates a national imperative for Beijing to rebalance economic development toward the interior, driving China’s strategic expansion into Central Asia.

China’s Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) Central Asian corridors play a crucial role as an economic equalizer by channeling trade, investment, and infrastructure into inland provinces, thereby reducing coastal dominance and maritime dependency. Through integrating overland logistics networks—like transnational railways and highways—China empowers inland cities with direct access to global markets. This strategy not only lowers transportation costs and diversifies export routes, but also fosters industrial growth in the interior, fundamentally altering China’s economic geography. Consequently, a rising share of China’s foreign trade is shifting from sea-based routes to land-based networks, narrowing regional economic gaps and significantly lessening China’s vulnerability to maritime chokepoints and external disruptions.

The traditional Indo-Pacific Strategy, which has historically emphasized maritime dominance, now faces a critical gap as China diversifies its export and investment pathways toward Eurasia. To effectively counter China’s expanding multi-vector influence, the U.S. must broaden its policy beyond maritime competition, deepening strategic engagement with the Eurasian landmass by integrating economic, political, and security dimensions across the continent. This calls for a shift toward fostering a more resilient and interconnected regional framework.

Fostering Competitive Cooperation to Reflect Realpolitik in Central Asia

Building on this strategic imperative, America should actively promote the development of an open, resilient, and inclusive regional economic ecosystem in Central Asia. The crucial insight is that by enlarging the overall economic “pie,” greater opportunities emerge for meaningful engagement and dynamic interactions among all regional actors—including Russia, China, Turkey, and other ambitious players. By fostering sustainable development and deeper integration, the U.S. can establish itself as a constructive yet strategically savvy partner, cultivating a competitive environment that deliberately harnesses the region’s natural rivalries as a strategic advantage.

This model of competitive cooperation—or “coopetition”—creates space for emerging and increasingly influential actors to contribute to regional development while preventing any single power from achieving dominance. Turkey, for instance, has rapidly expanded its economic footprint, with exports to Central Asia reaching $12 billion in 2022 and bilateral trade with Turkmenistan hitting $2.5 billion in 2023. Ankara’s influence is strengthened not only by trade and defense partnerships—including UAV cooperation with Kazakhstan—but also by deep linguistic and cultural ties to Turkic-speaking populations.

While enlarging the economic pie through engaging diverse actors is crucial, the U.S. must exercise necessary caution in this approach. Critics rightly warn that deepening economic ties with authoritarian-leaning states such as China risks entrenching illiberal governance models across Central Asia. Infrastructure investments and expanded trade may strengthen state capacities for surveillance and repression as much as for development. This tension is particularly evident in the record of China’s Belt and Road Initiative, where investment often advances without governance conditions, effectively decoupling growth from liberal reform and potentially undermining democratic development.

Therefore, as the economic pie grows, U.S. engagement—especially in coordination with the European Union—must move beyond mere commercial diplomacy. Any strategy for economic integration should embed robust mechanisms that promote transparency, accountability, and meaningful participation by civil society. Without addressing these governance dimensions proactively, growing economic interdependence risks solidifying authoritarian resilience, thereby limiting the U.S.’s ability to advance long-term democratic governance and human rights in the region. This governance-conscious approach ensures that economic expansion serves not just growth, but also the development of more open and accountable political systems.

The U.S. Needs to Strategically Leverage Regional Rivalries to Diversify Supply Chains in Central Asia

With this long-term framework in mind, the U.S. should remove Cold War-era constraints on Central Asian countries, most notably by repealing the Jackson-Vanik Amendment. According to a 2025 Atlantic Council report, this outdated provision denies permanent normal trade relations (PNTR) to several Central Asian nations that have already met original human rights criteria, resulting in higher tariffs and reduced investment that directly impede U.S. influence and limit economic engagement with the region. The bipartisan efforts led by Senators Marco Rubio, Steve Daines, Chris Murphy, and Todd Young to eliminate this barrier represent a crucial first step toward unlocking trade, infrastructure investment, and cooperation in critical sectors such as rare earth minerals and counterterrorism. Repealing Jackson-Vanik would bring U.S. policy into alignment with current geopolitical realities, enabling more substantial partnerships that promote development grounded in human dignity and democratic accountability.

Building on this policy foundation, the U.S. short-term strategy should adopt a complementary two-pronged approach. First, it must strengthen its institutional toolkit by expanding the role of the U.S. International Development Finance Corporation (DFC) to effectively “coopete” with the region’s multipolar actors. This involves promoting private investment and the development of high-quality infrastructure to advance economic diversification and regional connectivity, while enforcing rigorous environmental, social, and governance (ESG) standards to support transparent and sustainable growth, along with facilitating the entry and expansion of U.S. companies in competitive markets.

Second, the U.S. should prioritize diversifying trade routes and supply chains by actively engaging both the Trans-Caspian International Transport Route (TITR) and the Trans-Siberian Railway (TSR), thereby capitalizing on the ongoing China-Russia rivalry for strategic advantage. This dual-corridor approach helps ensure reliable transportation of natural gas to EU allies while securing access to critical minerals in Siberia, reducing dependence on any single transport pathway or political arrangement.

The strategic logic behind reinforcing these complementary infrastructure corridors lies in fostering a competitive dynamic between China and Russia in Eurasia that ultimately serves U.S. interests. The TITR serves as a vital energy corridor that allows Central Asia to reduce dependence on Russian-dominated supply chains while countering China’s growing influence in regional energy exports. In 2023, freight volumes along the TITR increased by 63.7%, with Kazakh exports surging by 122%, highlighting its rising prominence as an alternative to Russian-controlled transport routes and demonstrating its potential to reshape regional trade patterns. This development systematically diminishes Moscow’s leverage while strengthening regional economic autonomy and diversification.

Simultaneously, the TSR remains crucial for Russia’s mineral exports, underpinning its economic strength despite recent fluctuations in transit volumes due to geopolitical tensions. By ensuring Central Asia maintains access to viable alternatives to both Chinese and Russian transport monopolies, the U.S. empowers the region to enhance its economic sovereignty and alleviate authoritarian pressures from any single dominant power. Together, these competing yet complementary transport corridors promote a balance of economic interdependence and healthy rivalry, bolstering regional bargaining power and allowing U.S. firms to secure strategic resources within politically neutral environments that are not dominated by adversarial powers.

By advancing a pluralistic transport network centered on both the TITR and TSR, the U.S. pursues a sophisticated strategy of competitive cooperation—encouraging diverse connectivity options that simultaneously challenge and engage regional powers constructively. This nuanced approach ultimately supports the development of a stable, multipolar, and rules-based economic order in Central Asia that prevents hegemonic dominance while fostering prosperity and development that aligns with American values and strategic interests.

Azerbaijan is undergoing a significant geopolitical realignment, moving away from Moscow’s traditional dominance and pursuing a more independent, multi-vector foreign policy. This strategic shift has been shaped by historical grievances, the post-war dynamics of the South Caucasus, and the weakening of Russia’s regional influence following the Ukraine war.   For years, Azerbaijan maintained a careful balance with Russia, recognizing Moscow’s power while safeguarding its own sovereignty. However, Russia’s decades-long alliance with Armenia, its reluctance to ensure the implementation of post-war agreements, and its failure to restrain Armenian provocations have eroded trust in Moscow’s role as a “neutral” mediator.   The 2020 Second Karabakh War highlighted a changing reality: Turkey’s military and diplomatic support, rather than Russian involvement, enabled Azerbaijan’s decisive victory. This demonstrated that Moscow was no longer the only power capable of shaping events in the South Caucasus.   Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 weakened its global standing and diminished its ability to project power in the South Caucasus. Preoccupied with the conflict and isolated by Western sanctions, Moscow’s influence in the region has noticeably declined.   This created an opportunity for Azerbaijan to strengthen its role as a reliable energy partner for Europe. The Southern Gas Corridor, supplying gas to European markets, has made Baku a key player in Europe’s energy security strategy, further reducing its reliance on Moscow.   The proposed Zangezur Corridor, which would connect mainland Azerbaijan with its exclave Nachshivan through southern Armenia, is a strategic priority for Baku. This corridor would not only enhance regional trade and connectivity but also reduce Azerbaijan’s dependence on Russian-controlled routes.   Moscow’s lukewarm stance on this project and its attempts to maintain control over all transit links in the South Caucasus have created additional friction. Azerbaijan, supported by Turkey, seeks to establish the corridor as a sovereign project without Russian oversight.   Moreover, the corridor is viewed by Western and regional partners as a critical route that would integrate the South Caucasus with global trade networks, bypassing both Russia and Iran.   Azerbaijan’s partnership with Turkey has evolved into a robust strategic alliance. Military cooperation, defense industry collaborations, and joint regional initiatives underscore the “one nation, two states” principle.   At the same time, Baku has strengthened its relations with Israel, particularly in defense technology, intelligence sharing, and energy. The European Union and the United States have also deepened their engagement with Azerbaijan, viewing it as a vital partner in energy diversification and regional stability.   Azerbaijan’s growing influence is reshaping the South Caucasus power dynamics. While Russia remains a factor due to geography and trade, its weakened position has allowed Baku to pursue a more independent path. By leveraging its energy resources, modern military capabilities, and strong alliances, Azerbaijan is positioning itself as a leading regional power that is no longer bound by Moscow’s dictates.   Azerbaijan’s strategic pivot is not about severing ties with Moscow but about redefining its role in a multipolar world. The combination of energy diplomacy, the Zangezur Corridor initiative, and strong partnerships with Turkey, Israel, and the West reflects Baku’s determination to act as an autonomous and influential force in the South Caucasus.

A few short weeks into the Ceasefire with Iran, Iranian backed Houthis Kill Four, 15 kidnapped/missing after Houthis sink Greek ship in Red Sea.

After much talk and negotiations, the US has finally decided to go full steam ahead and resume its natural state of being as the tip of the spear for NATO in support of Ukraine. With much of the EU pushing for further kinetic involvement and border countries near Ukraine, notably Poland becoming the next major security superpower, the alignment of NATO comes after tough discussions between the Europeans and the United States on financial and supply obligations to the organisation. The new wartime commitment of 5% matches the reality of the current situation in Europe, a conflict that has erupted in other parts of the world despite the haughtiness of European denials on the reality of these situations. While not part of the common discussion in many NATO capitals, Europeans outside of Ukraine are being fired upon as European shipping fleets continue to be targeted and sunk abroad with limited response by the noble Western alliance. These actions during a supposed Ceasefire has resulted in deaths and likely more hostages, with an insufficient response by NATO against one of Russia’s allies. This trend of weak responses does nothing but encourage more conflict it seems, as Russia’s test of NATO’s fortitude continues to fuel more destruction.

In a sincere effort to end the war between Russia and Ukraine, new tariff measures aim to end Russia’s export of oil and gas to its main customers in many BRICS nations. Since the 2022 war began, there has been a concerted efforts to end the dependence on Russian oil and gas, while silently purchasing much of those same products by countries helping Ukraine to the tune of billions in military aid. The prohibition on the sale of North America energy to allies in Europe and Asia likely did more to fund Russia’s war machine than any attempted sanctions, as with high oil prices and the unwillingness to apply workable limits, the Russian military industrial complex would always be able to outproduce NATO with funding being constant. With these half measures, the war could always continue as long as there were men and metal available to put on the field, and Russia seems to be using many allies for these missions.

Effective sanctions on oil and gas must come with the displacement of these resources so other nations dependent on Russian energy have an alternative to conflict themselves. Acknowledging this reality was always a step never truly taken since 2022. A further acknowledgment of the greater war also prohibited and end to the conflict in Ukraine, as NATO sat on intelligence for years on drone production from Iran being sent to Russia. The scourge of these drones have become the essential terror weapon that are now murdering civilians at night in Ukraine. Now that drone facilities are operating in Russia, tank factories are on 24 hour shifts producing new armour and weapons, and former Soviet weapons storage facilities are being emptied out in record time providing refurbished equipment for the front, these targets should be met with the same vigour as the mission to end many of Russia’s strategic bomber fleet on the ground by Ukraine’s intelligence service.

A concerted effort should be taken against Russia’s military supply allies so that all sources of weapons can be limited along with tariffs and sanctions limiting funds towards Russia’s war production. Taking small steps to claim ceasefires only works when the ceasefire is committed to by both sides. In many situations, there is no rational side that can hold to any ceasefire agreement as it is usually just a tactic to delay a conflict until the West tires of the mission, leading to many deaths of innocents until that time comes. The war of delay is one that will always be lost as since the War in Vietnam, all adversaries of the United States have used this tactic with great effectiveness, now mixed with internal conflicts degrading the security situation in many of Europe’s and America’s great cities. Anarchy mixed with the normalisation of disproportionately undemocratic actions is the internal conflict that will likely weaken one side to such a great degree, that they will be unable to counter any conflict. To admit there is a war is the first step, to fight the war is what these new actions hope to achieve before it is no longer an option. Only time will literally tell of the eventual outcomes.

By Rachel Avraham

Donald Trump’s latest geopolitical positioning suggests a dramatic shift in U.S. attitudes toward the South Caucasus. In what critics call a “draining of the Washington swamp,” Trump appears ready to distance himself from the entrenched influence of Armenian lobbyists and place his bets on Azerbaijan—a nation that offers real strategic, economic, and security advantages to the United States.

For decades, the Armenian lobby in Washington, led by groups such as the Armenian National Committee of America (ANCA) and the Armenian Assembly of America, has been among the most vocal diaspora forces in U.S. politics. By leveraging historical grievances and emotional narratives, they lobby against military and energy cooperation with Azerbaijan.

However, the Trump camp sees this lobby as part of an outdated, unproductive political ecosystem. Trump’s strategy focuses on tangible gains: energy security, trade routes, and pragmatic alliances, rather than symbolic gestures. This shift has left Yerevan’s traditional lobbying tactics increasingly ineffective in shaping U.S. foreign policy.

Azerbaijan’s importance has grown significantly in the wake of global energy disruptions caused by the Ukraine war. As a key supplier of natural gas to Europe via the Southern Gas Corridor, Baku is now central to efforts aimed at reducing Europe’s dependence on Russian energy. For a dealmaker like Trump, Azerbaijan represents an opportunity to align U.S. economic and strategic goals with a rising regional power that delivers real results.

Moreover, Azerbaijan’s decisive victories in the 2020 and 2023 operations to restore its sovereignty over Karabakh have boosted its standing on the world stage. By contrast, Armenia has been increasingly seen as a struggling state, overly dependent on Russian protection and unable to adapt to the shifting geopolitical realities of the region.

Trump’s approach to international relations has always been guided by business logic and transactional partnerships. With Azerbaijan’s strategic location—bordering Russia, Iran, and the Caspian Sea—Trump views Baku not just as an ally but as a gateway for trade, energy, and influence in Eurasia. Political analysts suggest that a future Trump administration could dramatically expand U.S.-Azerbaijan cooperation, particularly in energy infrastructure, defense partnerships, and counter-terrorism efforts.

Armenia’s heavy reliance on the U.S. diaspora lobby has left it vulnerable to shifts in Washington’s priorities. As Russia’s grip on the South Caucasus weakens, Yerevan is scrambling to secure allies but has little to offer in terms of strategic value. Trump’s pivot to Azerbaijan highlights this reality: the U.S. is less interested in symbolic narratives and more focused on nations that can contribute to energy diversification and regional stability.

The Trump camp’s emphasis on Baku could redefine U.S. policy in the South Caucasus. By sidelining Armenia’s lobbyists, Washington could foster stronger cooperation with Azerbaijan, Turkey, and other regional players—ultimately reshaping the balance of power in a way that supports Western interests.

Trump’s shift from Yerevan to Baku is not just a diplomatic adjustment—it’s a signal that U.S. politics is moving toward pragmatic, results-oriented partnerships. As Armenian influence in Washington fades, Azerbaijan stands to gain from a renewed American focus on energy security, trade, and stability in the region. If Trump’s strategy continues, Baku could become a key U.S. partner, while Armenia risks sliding into political irrelevance.

A decentralized emirate system based on traditional governance structures could offer
Palestinians sustainable development and peaceful coexistence.

In recent days, the possibility of transforming governance in Judea and Samaria from the
failed Palestinian Authority model to a United Emirates system has been making headlines.
This model, based on traditional clan structures and local governance, represents a fundamental
shift from centralized authoritarian rule to decentralized, community-based administration that
prioritizes economic development and peaceful coexistence.

The emirates model offers what neither Hamas nor the PA can provide: legitimate local
governance rooted in traditional social structures, economic opportunity through industrial
zones and regional cooperation, and a pathway to joining the Abraham Accords framework.
Unlike the current system where over 80% of Palestinians view their government as corrupt
and disconnected from their needs, the emirates model builds on existing social trust within
communities.

Itamar Marcus, head of Palestinian Media Watch, emphasizes the systemic advantages: “There are communal leaders that care about their people. For years, there has been business going on between Jews living in Judea and Samaria and local Palestinians, with the blessing of the clan leaders for these people want the best for the Palestinians. If we are able to transition from the PA to the clan leaders, it will be for the people and for Israel as well.”

The economic dimension is crucial. As the Dor Moria Center research demonstrates,
sustainable peace requires addressing the root causes of conflict – particularly economic
exclusion and underdevelopment. With Human Development Index levels below 0.7 strongly
correlating with conflict, the emirates model’s focus on industrial zones, economic cooperation,
and integration into regional trade networks offers a concrete pathway above this critical
threshold.

The transition mechanism matters as much as the end goal. The current PA survives not
through legitimacy but through international funding – particularly from Europe. A phased
transition would involve redirecting this support from maintaining a failed centralized authority
to empowering local governance structures that can deliver actual services and economic
opportunities to their communities.

A Palestinian journalist, speaking on condition of anonymity, highlighted the systemic
failure: “Before 1988, we had dignity through economic integration. Today, 350,000
Palestinians who once worked in Israel are unemployed. The financial restrictions have
paralyzed our economy. People are so desperate they risk injury jumping the security barrier
just to find work. This isn’t about changing faces at the top – it’s about changing the entire
system.”

The emirates model addresses these structural problems through:
• Decentralized governance that maintains local accountability
• Economic integration through industrial zones and the Abraham Accords
• Traditional dispute resolution mechanisms that have legitimacy
• Direct service delivery without the corruption of centralized bureaucracy

Dr. Mordechai Kedar notes that the primary obstacle isn’t Palestinian opposition but
institutional inertia within certain Israeli administrative structures that have grown comfortable
with the dysfunctional status quo. The success of the emirates model requires Israeli support
for this systematic transformation – not just tolerating it, but actively facilitating the transition
from failed centralization to successful decentralization.

The window for this transformation is now. Each month that passes entrenches the failed
system deeper, while the population’s desperation grows. The United Emirates model offers
not just new leadership but a new system – one built on traditional legitimacy, economic
opportunity, and peaceful coexistence within the Abraham Accords framework.

Seo Sam-seok, National Assembly member for Sinan: a stark reminder that elected officials who assume public responsibility should bear public humiliation—not the powerless

In April 2025, the U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) issued a Withhold Release Order (WRO) barring imports of salt produced by Taepyung Salt Farm in Sinan, citing credible evidence of forced labor. This marked the first WRO imposed on a South Korean product, following a 2022 petition by advocacy groups. The CBP identified nine indicators of forced labor, as defined by the International Labour Organization (ILO), including the exploitation of vulnerable workers, movement restrictions, confiscation of identification documents, debt bondage, unpaid wages, and physical abuse. The WRO effectively halts imports unless the company can conclusively demonstrate that its supply chain is free from forced labor. This move represents a significant escalation in U.S. efforts to hold South Korea accountable on labor rights, reigniting scrutiny of a case long emblematic of systemic failures.

The Sinan salt farm slavery scandal first drew international attention in 2014, when media and police investigations exposed widespread abuse, particularly of people with disabilities. Since then, the U.S. Department of State’s annual Trafficking in Persons (TIP) Report has consistently cited labor exploitation concerns in South Korea, frequently referencing Sinan as a representative case. In 2021, a fresh incident of forced labor and wage theft triggered on-site investigations by the U.S. State Department and the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, which relayed detailed findings to Washington. Although South Korea has maintained its Tier 1 ranking in the TIP Report, the U.S. has repeatedly urged stronger enforcement, framing Sinan as a litmus test for Seoul’s commitment to international human rights norms. Even after the high-profile 2014 investigation, further cases emerged. In 2021 and 2022, new abuses were exposed, with reports that local police at times ignored victims’ pleas or returned escapees to their exploiters. Notably, in 2019, South Korea’s Supreme Court ruled that the government and police bore responsibility for failing to prevent such abuses, underscoring the systemic nature of the problem.

The Sinan case illustrates how entrenched local power structures and economic dependencies perpetuate exploitation. In isolated regions like Sinan, local elites—including landowners, law enforcement, and religious figures—often maintain overlapping interests, blurring the boundaries between governance and personal gain. Victims were not hidden; their suffering was an open secret sustained by collective silence and complicity. This points to a broader systemic problem: a feudal mindset that allows abuses to persist under the pretext of “community cohesion” and loyalty to entrenched power brokers. Such corruption not only obstructs justice but also undermines public trust in national protections.

No evidence to date implicates leaders of specific religious organizations or denominations directly in the Sinan forced labor case. However, media reports and NGO investigations have documented instances where salt farm owners leveraged their status as church elders or maintained close ties with local pastors to bolster their social standing. This influence sometimes discouraged whistleblowing or helped maintain a code of silence within the community. While isolated cases have seen individual pastors or church officials investigated for alleged complicity or negligence, there is no indication of formal involvement by religious institutions. The dominant pattern remains one of collusion among salt farm owners, politicians, and police, rather than coordinated action by religious groups.

Democratic Party politicians—many of whom represent constituencies in Jeollanam-do—have faced criticism for their muted response. Analysts point to a combination of regionalist loyalty, fear of alienating influential local actors, and a political culture averse to intra-regional critique as reasons for the inertia. Despite promoting human rights and labor reforms on the national stage, these politicians have often downplayed or sidestepped the Sinan scandal, wary of unsettling their rural support base.

The persistence of forced labor on Sinan’s salt farms galvanized artists and documentarians, who sought to confront public apathy. The UK-based Channel 4 documentary series Unreported World, produced by one of Britain’s leading public service broadcasters, aired a detailed episode in 2018 that investigated the Sinan salt farm forced labor case through firsthand testimonies and on-the-ground reporting. The program exposed how disabled and vulnerable individuals were lured under false pretenses, forced to work without pay, and subjected to violence and threats, all enabled by systemic failures in welfare protections and local complicity.

Although government crackdowns and rescues followed these media exposés, a 2023 investigation by Jeollanam-do authorities confirmed that exploitative labor practices persisted. Most perpetrators received only lenient sentences, such as probation, and many local elites avoided prosecution entirely. As a result, survivors continue to face daunting challenges in rehabilitation and reintegration.

The Sinan salt farm forced labor scandal is not a closed chapter of history; it remains an ongoing human rights challenge demanding vigilance, comprehensive reform, and above all, sustained commitment from all levels of governance and civil society. But such commitment must not be distorted or diluted by shifting narratives. A case in point is recent coverage by Maeil Business Newspaper, which highlights a media framing pattern that deserves scrutiny. While quoting workers, employers, and officials, the reporting tends to emphasize incremental improvements while downplaying systemic issues. The narrative often pivots to external trade concerns—such as U.S. misunderstandings or diplomatic repercussions—rather than keeping human rights violations at the center. Heavy reliance on government data without deeper investigation, and sympathetic space for employer grievances, may reflect subtle media bias aligning with official narratives. This framing risks diluting accountability and diverting focus from the structural reforms still urgently needed.

Gradual institutional socialization and internalization of the US-led deterrence identity—fostered by the ‘peace through strength’ doctrine—brings greater unity and satisfaction to the free world, symbolized by Trump’s successful breadwinning at the NATO table.

In the cacophonous return of great power competition, where authoritarian states test the margins of the liberal international order, a curious pattern has emerged: allies of the United States are not peeling away under pressure, but rather pulling closer. At the center of this gravitational force is not merely the United States itself, but a particular brand of American leadership—unapologetically transactional, muscular in posture, and deeply committed to the premise that peace is most credibly kept through strength. U.S. President Donald J. Trump’s foreign policy approach, long derided in elite diplomatic circles as reckless or unsophisticated, may be enjoying a quiet vindication. More than a foreign policy instinct, “peace through strength” is emerging as a functional mechanism of alliance synchronization and deterrence—one that modern international theory is now beginning to better explain.

The evidence is no longer anecdotal. The recent NATO summit in 2025 delivered one of the most historic shifts in alliance behavior in decades: European and Canadian allies committed to raising defense spending to 5% of GDP, a staggering leap beyond the long-disputed 2% threshold. More notably, this was not an isolated gesture of appeasement but part of a broader cascade of synchronization. Allies also agreed to tighter planning protocols and robust compliance mechanisms, echoing the kind of coordinated institutional behavior more commonly associated with wartime unity than peacetime policy.

While critics of Trump-era strategy warned that his bluster would alienate partners and destabilize norms, the opposite may now be unfolding: under the stress of external threat and internal hesitation, allies appear not only to follow Washington’s lead but to internalize it. What once looked like grudging compliance is morphing into institutional socialization. Supporting American leadership is not just a matter of obligation—it is becoming an expression of identity.

From Coercion to Internalization

Much ink has been spilled on hegemonic stability theory—the idea that a single dominant power underwrites international order through the demonstration of force and economic leadership. Trump’s doctrine fits snugly here, particularly with regard to his use of military signaling to reinforce deterrence. Case in point: the targeted U.S. operations against Iranian nuclear sites, conducted with surgical precision, significantly delayed Iran’s enrichment capabilities and delivered a costly signal not just to Tehran but to the broader international community. The message was clear: U.S. resolve was real, and its capabilities unmatched.

Yet to stop there would miss the deeper story. Unlike traditional coercive frameworks, the Trump-led realignment reveals patterns consistent with institutional socialization. As current international relations theory suggests, allies that routinely engage with a capable and consistent hegemon begin to internalize that hegemon’s norms—not just because they fear reprisal, but because they gradually come to see alignment as beneficial, legitimate, and even identity-defining.

Several conditions amplify this process. First, Trump-era diplomacy, for all its rhetorical volatility, has offered clarity of norms. There was no ambiguity about expectations: contribute more to collective defense, or face a reckoning. Second, by presenting NATO as both a burden and a benefit, the Trump administration forced allies to grapple directly with questions of institutional utility. Third, the repeated engagement—both in summits and behind-the-scenes military coordination—built the kind of social interaction that fosters shared identity.

The shift was subtle but real. Allies who once rolled their eyes at Trump’s demands are now aligning policy with Washington not out of compulsion, but conviction. And unlike more delicate forms of diplomacy that rely on endless consensus-building, the Trump doctrine seemed to understand a basic psychological principle of alliance politics: clarity and resolve, however brash, are often more persuasive than soft ambiguity.

A Networked Logic of Resilience

Beyond socialization, another theoretical frame further illuminates the Trump-era alliance realignment: resilience through interdependence. This model rejects the zero-sum lens of alliance politics and instead views security as a networked, shared good—dependent on the collective strength of interconnected actors.

In this context, Trump’s policies operated as a catalyzing force. By making credible demonstrations of U.S. capability, the administration reminded allies of their own reliance on the integrity of the transatlantic system. The 5% GDP commitment is not merely a concession to American pressure; it reflects a recognition that prosperity and stability are deeply intertwined with a robust and assertive alliance structure.

Moreover, interdependence is not merely functional—it becomes emotional. Solidarity emerges from crisis management and shared sacrifice. In this way, Trump’s pressure campaign—while confrontational—sparked an internal reckoning among allies. Do they wish to be passive observers in a system increasingly shaped by revisionist powers? Or will they reaffirm their place in what one might call the “House of the Free World”?

They chose the latter. This is not just compliance. It is contribution.

Theoretical Convergence and Practical Outcomes

When we map Trump’s approach onto the modern theoretical landscape, we see a surprising convergence. Hegemonic stability theory explains how his bold use of power coerced alignment. Signaling theory validates the credibility of actions like the Iran strikes. But it is institutional socialization and interdependence theory that give the most profound insights: they explain why the alliance is cohering more tightly now than at any time since the Cold War’s zenith.

To be sure, this realignment is not without risk. Overreliance on coercive tools can breed resentment, especially if leadership appears inconsistent or narcissistic. A purely transactional view of alliances can erode the kind of trust and shared identity that underwrite long-term solidarity. But Trump’s surprising strength was that, through the smoke and fire of confrontation, he clarified the stakes of membership in the liberal order. He didn’t merely ask, “What have you done for us lately?”—he forced allies to ask, “What happens if we don’t stand together?”

The answer, increasingly, is that fragmentation leads to vulnerability. In an age of networked threats—cyberwarfare, gray zone tactics, economic coercion—the collective is only as resilient as its weakest node. The Trump administration understood this, even if only instinctively, and the resulting behavior among allies suggests that a deeper transformation is underway.

An Anchor in a Shifting Sea

The world’s geopolitical landscape in 2025 is choppier than ever. China’s ambitions in the Indo-Pacific, Russia’s continued provocations on NATO’s eastern flank, and Iran’s regional adventurism all paint a picture of sustained instability. And yet, amid this turbulence, there is one surprising constant: the House of the Free World is not splintering. It is consolidating.

This is not a nostalgic return to postwar liberalism, but a more hard-edged, updated form of Western unity—less about Wilsonian idealism and more about a shared recognition of threat and mutual benefit. Trump, for all his breaches of etiquette, reminded the alliance that it is a house worth defending. More than that, he showed that defense requires clarity, commitment, and consequence.

Of course, the success of this model is not guaranteed. It depends on continued U.S. credibility, the institutional health of NATO and its adjunct bodies, and a commitment to the kind of routine engagement that sustains identity and interdependence. It also requires a leadership style that, while perhaps confrontational, is not capricious. Trump’s strength was his resolve; any future leader seeking to emulate his success must preserve that credibility without descending into chaos.

Conclusion: A New Strategic Normal

Peace through strength may once have sounded like an anachronism of Cold War thinking. But today, in an age of hybrid warfare and global fragmentation, it may be the only language that hostile actors and hesitant allies alike understand. Trump’s ability to extract historic concessions from NATO allies—and more importantly, to catalyze a shared sense of strategic identity—is not an aberration. It may be the blueprint for what comes next.

In this blueprint, power is not the opposite of persuasion—it is its precondition. Strength is not the negation of diplomacy—it is its amplifier. And leadership is not merely a seat at the table—it is the resolve to set the terms. If Trump has taught the free world anything, it is that the architecture of freedom is not self-sustaining. It must be funded, defended, and yes, demanded.

As the new strategic normal unfolds, the United States remains the anchor. And with Trump’s model—however polarizing—as the template, the House of the Free World appears ready, willing, and increasingly able to follow.

 

 

The concept of generic fascism helps understanding Russia’s war against Ukraine

 

Andreas Umland

 

The use of the term “fascism” in connection with the modern Russian state and its actions has at least three dimensions. First, it is a historical analogy used to guide public interpretation of current events in light of well-known developments in the recent past. Second, it is a Ukrainian code expressing the lived experience of millions of Ukrainians today. Third, “fascism” is an academic umbrella term that serves scientific classification, enables comparisons across time and space, and highlights differences and similarities between historical fascism, on the one hand, and Putinism, today on the other.

 

Fascism as a historical analogy

Most public references to Putin’s regime as fascist serve as a diachronic analogy or metaphorical classification to better understand recent developments in Russia and its occupied territories. Such historical comparisons and verbal visualizations of current phenomena with events and images from the past help to identify key characteristics and challenges of today’s Russia. The attribution of “fascism” to Putin’s regime serves to illustrate to the general public what is happening in Russia and the Russian-occupied Ukrainian territories.

This comparison is justified insofar as there are numerous parallels between the political rhetoric and actions of Putin’s Russia, on the one hand, and Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany, on the other. By mid-2025, many political, social, ideological, and institutional similarities will have accumulated. These range from increasingly dictatorial and partly totalitarian features of the Russian regime to revanchist and increasingly genocidal features in the Kremlin’s external behavior. Against this backdrop, the use of the term fascism serves to guide debates in mass media, civil society, and educational institutions.

 

Fascism as lived experience

The use of the term “fascism” to describe Putin’s regime by outside commentators aims to give audiences outside Russia and Ukraine an impression of current Russian domestic and foreign affairs. In contrast, the Ukrainian use of the term “fascism” and the neologism “rashism” – a combination of “Russia” and “fascism” – is primarily an expressive act. In Ukraine, describing Russia as fascist has, since 2014, articulated the collective shock, deep grief, and ongoing despair at the Kremlin’s morbid cynicism toward ordinary Ukrainians—especially in the last three and a half years of war.

“Fascism” or “rashism” also serves as a battle cry for the Ukrainian government and society to mobilize domestic and foreign support for resistance against Russian aggression. These terms are intended to draw the outside world’s attention to the serious consequences of Russia’s war of expansion and destruction for Ukraine. The adjectives “fascist” and “rashist” indicate that Russia’s military expansion is not just about conquering Ukrainian territory. Russia’s revanchist adventure, especially since 2022, aims to destroy Ukraine as an independent nation-state and a cultural community separate from Russia.

The words and deeds of the Russian government are largely consistent in this regard. Statements by Russian government officials, parliamentarians, and propagandists, especially since February 24, 2022, indicate that Russia’s intentions toward Ukraine go beyond merely redrawing state borders, restoring regional hegemony, and preventing the Westernization of Eastern Europe. Moscow has already since 2014 been ruthlessly suppressing Ukrainian identity, culture, and national sentiment in Crimea and the Donbas.

It would be going too far to equate Russian Ukrainophobia with the biological and eliminatory anti-Semitism of the Nazis. With its irredentist war, Moscow “only” wants to destroy the Ukrainians as a self-confident nation and integrated civil society. The Kremlin does not aim to physically eliminate all Ukrainians, as the Nazis attempted to do with the Jews. Nevertheless, the Russian agenda goes beyond “mere” expulsion, harassment, deportation, re-education, and brainwashing of Ukraine’s inhabitants. It also includes the expropriation, terrorization, imprisonment, torture, and murder of those Ukrainians (as well as some Russians) who oppose Russia’s military expansion, political terror, and cultural dominance in Ukraine in word and/or deed. It is therefore hardly surprising that many Ukrainians, as well as some Russian observers, spontaneously describe Russia’s genocidal behavior as “fascist.”

 

Fascism as a scholarly concept

A growing number of prominent experts on Central and Eastern Europe today describe Putin’s Russia as fascist. In contrast, many contemporary historians and political scientists who work with comparative methods have so far avoided using the term fascism to categorize Putinism. This has to do with the narrow definitions of generic fascism used by many of these academics. According to these definitions, the key feature that distinguishes fascists from other right-wing extremists is their goal of political, social, cultural, and anthropological rebirth.

Fascists often refer to a supposed Golden Age in their nation’s distant past and use ideas and symbols from this mythologized prehistory. However, they do not want to preserve or restore a past era, but rather to create a new kind of national community. Fascists are right-wing extremists, but they are more revolutionary than ultra-conservative or reactionary. Today, many comparativists would be cautious about applying the term fascism to Putinism, as Putin seeks to restore the Russian Empire rather than create an entirely new Russian state and people.

Admittedly, Putin’s transformation of Russian domestic and foreign policy over the past 25 years has had a clear direction. It has meant a continued increase in rhetorical aggression, internal repression, external escalation, and general radicalization, which now culminates in monthly Russian threats of world war. For most comparative historians, nevertheless, these and similar changes in the last quarter-century of Russian history would still be insufficient to classify Putinism as fascism.

 

Ukraine as Russia’s interior

On the other hand, Russia’s policy in the occupied Ukrainian territories could be classified as quasi-fascist in a more direct sense. The ruthless Russification campaign that the Russian state is carrying out in the annexed parts of Ukraine through targeted terror, forced re-education, and material incentives aims to achieve a profound sociocultural transformation of these areas. Admittedly, such irredentist, colonizing, and homogenizing policies are not seen as necessarily fascist in comparative imperialism studies. However, the instruments used by the Kremlin to implement its Ukraine policy and the desired outcomes are in some respects similar to those of the fascist revolutions attempted by Mussolini’s Italy and Hitler’s Germany.

Moscow wants to fundamentally reshape the conquered Ukrainian municipalities and turn them into cells of a culturally and ideologically standardized Russian people (russkii narod). Russian imperial ultra-nationalists regard most parts of Ukraine as originally Russian territory and refer to them as “New Russia” and “Little Russia” (Novorossiya, Malaya Rossiya). Ukrainians – insofar as the term is accepted at all – are thus merely a sub-ethnic group of the greater pan-Russian people, whose Ukrainian language is merely a Russian dialect and who have regional folklore rather than a national culture.

According to the Russian irredentist narrative, the western Russian border dwellers were misled by anti-Russian forces in order to form an artificial nation, “the Ukrainians.” Foreign actors such as the Catholic Church, imperial Germany, the Bolsheviks, and/or the West today have divided the larger pan-Russian people. They have alienated the “Great Russians” (velikorossy) of the Russian Federation from the “Little Russians” (malorossy) of Ukraine.

Moscow’s occupation policy in Ukraine, aimed at reversing this supposedly artificial division of Russian civilization allegedly caused by foreign powers, could be understood as an attempt to give new birth to “Little Russia.” The Kremlin’s goal is to bring about a local political, social, cultural, and anthropological revolution in the Ukrainian territories annexed by Russia. The Russification policy in Ukraine is thus sufficiently similar to classic fascist domestic and occupation policies, so that Moscow’s transformative goals and actions with regard to Russia’s Ukrainian “brothers” could be classified as, at least, quasi-fascist.

 

Dr. Andreas Umland is an analyst at the Stockholm Center for Eastern European Studies (SCEEUS) in the Swedish Institute of International Affairs (UI).

 

This article is the summary of larger chapter forthcoming in: Ian Garner and Taras Kuzio, eds., Russia and Modern Fascism: New Perspectives on the Kremlin’s War Against Ukraine. Stuttgart: ibidem-Verlag, 2025.

June 20, 2004—South Korean national Kim Sun Il was brutally beheaded by an al-Qaeda-linked extremist group, a tragedy that underscores how the spread of Islamic extremism—fueled in part by Iran’s 1979 revolution and, as Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman has acknowledged, the export of radical ideology—continues to claim the lives of innocent civilians simply because of their countries’ alliances.

On June 22, 2025, in a moment of blistering clarity, the Iranian regime stripped away the last fig leaf of plausible deniability. In a declaration broadcast on state television, Tehran vowed that “every American citizen or military personnel in the region is now a target.” This was not a coded message, nor a vague allusion—it was a direct threat against innocent civilians, a calculated act of rhetorical terrorism from a regime unraveling in the wake of its own miscalculations.

The context is clear: mere hours before this pronouncement, US-led strikes had decisively disabled critical components of Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. It was a blow aimed at halting Tehran’s march toward nuclear armament—one that, in the absence of good-faith diplomacy from Iran, had become necessary. But instead of addressing its own provocations, the regime lashed out with characteristic fury, scapegoating Americans—military and civilian alike—as acceptable collateral in its campaign of revenge and propaganda.

Let’s not mistake this for a novel turn. Iran’s leaders are not new to the politics of terror. Since the Islamic Revolution of 1979, they have deployed violence not just as a defensive tool, but as a primary mechanism of statecraft. Whether through the brazen hostage crisis of 1979, the devastating Beirut bombings of 1983, or the countless proxy attacks on US troops across Iraq and Syria in the decades since, the Islamic Republic has honed a consistent strategy: when diplomacy falters or its ambitions are thwarted, it targets the innocent.

This is not the tactical desperation of a beleaguered nation. It is the doctrine of a regime that views terrorism not as a shameful aberration but as a legitimate expression of power. And with this latest threat—an open call to murder civilians—it has once again reminded the world of its moral bankruptcy.

The regime’s calculus is cynical but revealing. It cannot defeat the United States militarily. Its conventional forces are outmatched, its economy is strained, and its legitimacy is eroded both domestically and abroad. So it falls back on its tried-and-true method: asymmetrical terror. It empowers proxies, radicalizes militias, and weaponizes fear—hoping that the West, weary of endless conflict, will trade justice for quiet, and leave tyrants to rule without consequence.

What Tehran perhaps failed to calculate is how utterly this declaration confirms everything its critics have said for decades. For years, some insisted that Iran’s aggression was reactive, that its support for groups like Hezbollah and Hamas was strategic rather than ideological, that it could be coaxed into moderation through economic engagement. But threats to murder civilians—for the crime of holding a blue passport—leave no room for such illusions. This is not realism. This is raw, unreconstructed terrorism.

And yet, this moment must not be wasted on outrage alone. The United States and its allies must recognize that this is more than a rhetorical shift; it is a declaration of intent. Every American in the Middle East is now living under a threat sanctioned by a sovereign government. That is an extraordinary—and extraordinarily dangerous—development.

It also places an urgent burden on the international community. The rules-based order cannot survive if state actors are allowed to incite violence against civilians without consequence. The targeting of innocents must remain a red line—not just in theory, but in enforcement. If the regime in Tehran is allowed to get away with this, it will not be the last to abandon international norms in favor of the politics of fear.

Ultimately, the Iranian regime has revealed what it truly is: not a misunderstood player seeking regional autonomy, but a paranoid, theocratic oligarchy whose first instinct in crisis is to threaten murder. That instinct—nurtured over decades, bolstered by proxy wars, and now made explicit on national television—should end any remaining debate about its nature.

The world has been warned. Now it must respond

By Rachel Avraham

It might not have caught the attention of Westerners, but people in the Global South noticed it long ago: Europeans exhibit a double standard when it comes to violations of sovereignty and civilian lives. What does that mean? In Europe, it’s customary to support a particular side in a military conflict based on the defense of a specific value. For example, a country whose territory has been invaded by soldiers from another nation can be supported in the name of defending territorial integrity, the right to sovereignty, or the right to life, and so on.

However, every now and then, we notice a phenomenon where European countries choose to support nations that don’t represent the very values they championed when it came to other countries. This exposes the hypocritical and sycophantic self-interest of the “enlightened” Western nations. This double standard is one of the reasons many countries in Eurasia and Africa are not taking sides in the Russia-Ukraine war. While many European countries engage in this demeaning and hypocritical behavior, one country acts this way most overtly: France.

When the Russia-Ukraine war broke out, France gave its absolute and unequivocal support to Ukraine, claiming that Russia had invaded its legal territorial boundaries and that Ukraine had the right to defend its independence and sovereignty over its lawful territories. The truth? There’s some truth to what the French say. However, what’s infuriating about this story is that France is playing favorites when it comes to supporting countries that need to defend their territories and sovereignty from external attacks by other nations. The most striking example of this is France’s support for Armenia in its military conflict with Azerbaijan. Why, in the Caucasus war, does France support the aggressor who initiated the illegal occupation of territory legally belonging to another country, rather than the one defending its sovereign territories?

Let’s take a step back. After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, two countries disagreed with the territorial division for each nation that separated from the Soviet Union: Russia and Armenia. According to the division, each Soviet Republic that became an independent state received its territorial area as a country based on its territory as a Soviet Republic. This fundamental division was agreed upon in the Alma-Ata Declaration on December 21, 1991. From Russia’s perspective, its leaders have always viewed the post-Soviet Eurasian countries as semi-independent states, allowing them (the Russian leadership) to act in these countries as they please. As for Armenia, it decided not to be content with its original territory and forcibly conquered the Azerbaijani region of Karabakh. Thus, Armenian nationalists managed to create “Greater Armenia” from the territory they seized from Azerbaijan in the “First Karabakh War,” a territory that constituted a fifth of Azerbaijan’s landmass.

According to the French moral compass, as demonstrated by France’s support for Ukraine in its war against Russia, we would infer that France would also support Azerbaijan, whose territory was shamefully occupied. But no. Not only does France not support Azerbaijan but Armenia, it also tried for years to prevent Azerbaijan from reclaiming its occupied territory and intensified its opposition to Azerbaijan after the “Second Karabakh War” in 2020, in which Azerbaijan regained its occupied land.

As mentioned, it seems France wasn’t content with just standard diplomatic support for Armenia but engaged in direct external intervention in an issue not directly related to it (and frankly, not even indirectly so much). France is a member of the OSCE Minsk Group (Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe). This organization was established in 1992 to resolve the conflict between Armenia and Azerbaijan, with France being one of the three co-chairs of the group, along with the United States and Russia. It’s important to note that each of these three countries has a large and politically powerful Armenian lobby. The OSCE Minsk Group largely failed in all its endeavors for three decades, not only in the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict but also in conflicts created by Russia in Moldova, Georgia, and Ukraine in 2014-2021. Furthermore, the group failed to negotiate a peace agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan based on the Alma-Ata Declaration, which would have forced the Armenians to withdraw militarily from Karabakh. Beyond that, the group achieved no breakthrough in resolving the conflict.

Over time, questions arose about France’s participation in the group and its role as a co-chair. Firstly, as mentioned, France has the third-largest Armenian diaspora in the world (after Russia and the United States), which constitutes a strong political force. You tell me, what French politician would want to disappoint such a large number of potential voters over some conflict that doesn’t concern their private life in any way? I imagine none.

Secondly, in recent years, France has been grappling with large-scale Muslim immigration, which is not sitting quietly and is shaking the streets of France and French politics. Today, many French people understand that opening their country’s doors to anyone seeking assistance from the Middle East was not the best decision made in Paris, leading to a significant political shift across France towards the far-right. Based on the anti-Muslim sentiment that has become so prevalent in France, the decision to support Christian Armenia over Muslim Azerbaijan is the only decision supported across the entire French political spectrum. Politicians like Le Pen use crusade-like terminology to defend the Christian Armenian population from the Muslim Azerbaijanis, even though Azerbaijan is a completely secular country, and its conflict with Armenia has nothing to do with religion or any particular civilization, but rather with international law. And frankly, it’s ludicrous to portray Azerbaijan as an evil Muslim country, given that one of its greatest allies is the Jewish state of Israel. Thirdly, France also supported (Christian) Greece against its conflict with (Muslim) Turkey, so it’s not surprising that France would not support Turkey’s close and significant ally—Azerbaijan.

In November 2020, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Both French parliaments unanimously voted for French recognition of the independence of the separatist enclave of Artsakh (the Armenian name for Karabakh), mirroring the positions of Russia and Armenia. Subsequently, a frustrated Azerbaijan called for the closure of the OSCE Minsk Group.

The conflict between France and Azerbaijan is not just a conflict between two countries but a mirror image of a larger conflict between the West and the Global South, ignited by double standards and justice. Western countries will not gain the support of the Global South, even on substantive issues like the Russia-Ukraine war, as long as justice is not served and Western countries stop supporting other occupiers who act against international law, similar to the case of the Armenian-Azerbaijani conflict. We must not normalize double standards regarding separatism, the sanctity of states’ territorial integrity, and colonialism. Countries like France must not continue to behave in such a despicable manner, dictating the “right” and “wrong” sides of conflicts between different countries based on their political interests. Only in a political world like the one countries such as France are trying to bring us into, does it make sense to support Ukraine but vehemently oppose Azerbaijan.

A German Gepard in unique camo colours, popular in both games and in drone defense in Ukraine.

 

The era surrounding 2014 was one where life in some parts of the world could not have been more different than life in the West. Around 2014, when the Syrian Wars became very hot and violent, most people were sitting in their homes, playing games like Call of Duty with actual combat being the farthest thing from their mind. While the following years gave way to some youth in the West becoming ISIS fighters, the average family hardly felt this effect or were plagued by their children going abroad to brutalise people in Iraq and Syria.

Despite that era being one where some of the oldest communities in the Middle East were almost completely wiped out, things in Europe and North America changed very little. Even when returned ISIS fighters came back to the West, little was done in many cases to charge them, seek justice for their victims, or even take actions to protect communities in Western countries from future attacks. Even today, there is little mention of it or measures to compensate victims of acts done by Western citizens in Iraq and Syria, despite the world being a much more divisive place in 2025.

Post-Covid seemed to change the norm in many of these formerly peaceful communities. They still played games and watched similar media, still ignored many of the horrors abroad, and did little to think they would be in a dire situation themselves. The 2022 War in Ukraine took young video game players, ones with online friends in your town who played the same games and had similar lives to their team members in the West, and put many of them in the front of actual combat.

Some successes of these formerly peaceful game players and average kids were mentioned on the battlefield. In a well known incident, caught mostly on video, two Ukrainian operated American Bradley armoured personnel vehicles were able to disable one Russian T-90M tank, the most modern Russian tank on the battlefield. The tactics and knowledge they used against the ultra modern T-90M was claimed by one of the Bradley crews to be the result of playing the game War Thunder, a simplified war vehicle simulator. To improvise during the tense situation, the Bradley did something he often did in game when he targeted the sensors of an enemy tank. With the experience he had fighting against other real players online, he took to damaging the equipment of the enemy tank so he could stop the enemy from firing on the two Bradleys. While the game is not exactly designed to be a proper simulator for the Bradley or the T-90M, it enabled the driver to have a tactical mind and improvise an idea learned from their earlier days playing one of their favourite games. To note, the T-90M did not make it, and it is not clear if the Russian crew survived.

A simplified simulation of many of the systems used in Ukraine and in other parts of the world may train this generation in quick responses in actual combat. Many weapons designs are often based on control mechanisms for an XBox or Playstation, and playing something like the game mentioned above may introduce soldiers in how to manage the targeting system of a Gepard or ZSU-23-4 radar in shooting down drones attacking cities in Ukraine. It is likely the case that drone systems have already benefitted from controls and imaging seen in many modern games, drones which have changed the face of battle since 2022.

The unfortunate reality of combat in Ukraine and other parts of the world is that such technological advancements also make it very difficult to survive a war. There are estimates of thousands of young men losing their lives weekly in Ukraine, and the total number of deaths of soldiers in the war is approaching levels of losses not seen since the Second World War. Quick and rapid defeats have been recently seen in the air conflict between Pakistan and India, where many pilots likely lost their lives in the first few hours of combat with little chance to survive modern weapons technology. An advanced and well planned attack may remove the defense of military targets without a means of response, weighting one military’s strength to such a great degree that it would mirror the strategic victory at Pearl Harbor. The reality of modern warfare is that most will not survive, and for many of those on the battlefield who are more alike than different, it would be best if they were challenging each other online instead of using those skills to massacre each other on the battlefield.

Leftist pundits should remember: God answered Abraham’s own sacrifice. The sin of sacrificing another’s child is eternal—and paid in hell. (Image generated by ChatGPT-4o-)

Whether it’s the weight shouldered by members of the vulnerable population—Emma Sulkowicz’s mattress, George Floyd’s last breath, Breonna Taylor’s bedroom, or Alan Kurdi’s shoreline—each was made into a symbol not by their own will, but by the myth-making impulses of leftist punditry and media machinery eager to construct heroes out of hurt. Their pain was aestheticized, their names invoked, their images distributed. But in many cases, they and their families suffer—not only from the original violence, but from the relentless symbolic labor they are forced to perform. Some are harassed, surveilled, erased. Others are iconized so completely that they are never seen again as people. Their public meaning grows while their private agency collapses. They become scaffolding for a morality play in which they never auditioned. Their liberation is recited, never lived.

This transformation from person to parable is not incidental—it is embedded in the moral economy of contemporary wokeism. Liberation is not a shared project but a transaction, sealed through sacrifice. Political legitimacy is won not by organizing for freedom, but by offering up a body to be injured, a voice to be silenced, or a subject to be mythologized. These figures are not truly seen. They are deified, consumed, and converted into liberal cautionary tales—fetishized icons whose pain is preserved but whose personhood is discarded.

This is the tragedy of postmodern identity: real lives become metaphorical instruments. The dead speak only through curated remembrance, and the living suffer as placeholders for unredeemed history. Heidegger might call this the reduction of being to utility: the human as object, politically visible only when useful to others’ narratives. In this way, ontological erasure becomes functional visibility—a form of legibility that only emerges through subjugation, when pain becomes performance. This seamlessly echoes Michel Foucault’s notion of biopolitics, where power does not merely repress but regulates the conditions under which life is allowed to be seen, counted, and managed. In a world where not all lives are equally protected, the bourgeoisie monopolize not only the payoffs from the moral economy of contemporary wokeism, but the full expression of life—safety, rest, and the dignity of emotional bandwidth. Others are permitted only visibility through trauma, and even that is selectively allocated.

Even that visibility, however, often comes posthumously. The sacrificed individual is remembered, not lived. Their death becomes an ethical signal; their life is a discarded draft. The real horror lies in this economy of symbolic compensation, where systemic injustice is aestheticized, not remedied. Tragedy becomes theater, and mourning becomes moral capital. In many cases, the market absorbs these symbolic deaths with stunning efficiency. Grief becomes brandable, pain becomes a hashtag, and corporations don the colors of solidarity while continuing to exploit those very lives behind the scenes. The commodification of trauma thus becomes the final act in the ritual: mourning not as a reckoning, but as marketing.

Hannah Arendt saw the mechanics of evil, not its texture. Her account of the “banality of evil” captured bureaucratic amorality, but did not dwell in the suffering it produced. Her reflection is Lacanian: a cold mirror without skin. It renders evil comprehensible, but not felt. In effect, Arendt displaced the burden of suffering—transferring it from analytical engagement to symbolic abstraction, a form of ethical outsourcing that left the pain of victims intellectually acknowledged but existentially untouched. She succeeded in anatomizing the structures of evil, but left unexplored how suffering is lived, fragmented, and erased within those very structures. Arendt gave us the ethics of the thinking subject, but not of the suffering one. Perhaps for Arendt, that suffering was not just analytically elusive—it was something unspeakable, something she refused to represent precisely because its intimacy defied conceptual containment. In this absence, suffering becomes an epistemic object, not an ethical imperative. Diagnosis arrives without embodiment; politics speaks without contact. Her refusal to descend into the phenomenology of pain was not philosophical neutrality—it was an ethical omission. To map evil without feeling its tremor is to risk normalizing it anew, in cleaner language.

Thus, suffering is neutralized into mythology. The wounded are sainted but silenced. Pain becomes proof of virtue—an untouchable credential that resists criticism and political transformation. The sacred victim cannot be questioned, only mourned or idealized. And here lies the ethical stagnation: trauma becomes a closed loop, an immutable symbol, rather than an impetus for structural change. When political identity is secured by suffering, liberation becomes a performance endlessly rehearsed but never concluded.

If pain merely confers symbolic status, then the living are doomed to repeat the dead’s script. The suffering subject’s current life becomes unlivable. Their future is overwritten by a demand to represent trauma, indefinitely. Woke politics, in this form, enshrines suffering without transforming it. It is a politics of infinite repetition, not release. And it leaves no room for agency beyond grief.

Contrast this with the figure of the Bodhisattva: in Mahayana Buddhist philosophy, the Bodhisattva is one who, despite being capable of entering nirvana, voluntarily delays personal liberation to remain in the world and accompany others in their suffering. They sense suffering and remain with it, not to define others by it, but to transmute it. The Bodhisattva does not use pain to confer meaning. They use presence to restore it. Their compassion is not forensic, but existential—a form of dwelling. The Bodhisattva is not merely compassionate; they are co-present. Their ethics emerge not from abstraction, but from dwelling beside. Where liberal politics universalizes suffering into policy, the Bodhisattva particularizes it into presence.

But presence is not enough without structure. In political terms, presence must be accompanied by material reparation. The craftsman—an ethical architect—must build beyond reflection. But craftmanship is no longer ethically sufficient if it only judges who deserves repair based on performative pain. This is where the symbolic economy of sacrifice collapses: those who have suffered must not merely be honored or remembered—they must be structurally equalized. They must be permitted to live lives as full and rich as those who now consume their memory as moral capital. There is no justification, ethical or political, for the continued monopolization of livable life by those who hide behind commemorative virtue while enjoying the fruits of unshared freedom.

Yet even this ethical craft has limits if it is not coupled with radical redistribution. The mythic victim must not only be acknowledged—they must be released from their myth. Here, capitalism, paradoxically, offers a necessary tool: not because any one mechanism is inherently virtuous or profound, but because no existing liberal or progressive instrument—reparations, welfare, or identity-based redistribution—has succeeded in releasing the mythologized victim from their symbolic role. In the absence of a non-patron-clientelist structure that can offer real exit from sacrificial identity, instruments like shareholdership or even randomized redistribution remain the only viable tools to shift the terrain. Capital, at its coldest, is indifferent to lineage, grievance, and symbolic performance. And that very indifference may be the most ethical feature available: it does not measure worthiness; it redistributes possibility. Not as reward, but as rupture. A metaphysical wager against inherited repetition. A refusal to remember, so that others might begin to live.

And in a world that only remembers your surname, hometown, or trauma—capital remains the only force indifferent enough to liberate you from all three. It may not have a conscience, but it also has no prejudice. And sometimes, that blankness is the most just form of remembering we have left.

This perspective is not rooted in the ivory towers of philosophical critique. Unlike Adorno, Arendt, or Benjamin—who observed authoritarian violence from historical distance, where suffering remained a subject of analysis rather than an object of shared responsibility—this argument emerges from within the vulnerable population itself. It does not mourn trauma as a conceptual loss; it lives within its ongoing consequences. If traditional critical theory attempts to historicize injustice, this voice demands to de-historicize survival. It refuses to be remembered. It insists on being redistributed.

Thus, to move beyond symbolic sacrifice, we need three agents: the Bodhisattva who stays, the craftsman who builds, and the system that gives. This system need not replace ethics, but it must outmaneuver its exclusions—the binaries of good and evil, victim and bystander. Without presence, structure, and rupture, suffering remains mythic, and justice remains posthumous. The task is not to mourn more skillfully, but to liberate more concretely.

A shifting power balance in the South Caucasus is pushing Azerbaijan–Russia relations into a critical phase. In recent years, geopolitical changes in the South Caucasus have begun to reshape the once seemingly strategic relationship between Azerbaijan and Russia. Although the two countries were historically considered close allies, they are now facing a deep crisis of mutual trust — a development not accidental but rather an inevitable result of diverging political trajectories.   The trilateral declaration signed in November 2020 marked Russia’s return to the region through the deployment of peacekeeping forces in Karabakh. However, from the outset, the Russian mission has been met with skepticism in Azerbaijan. The main concern lies in Russia’s perceived lack of neutrality and its occasional implicit support for Armenian separatist elements in the region.   Azerbaijan’s counter-terror operation in September 2023, which restored its full sovereignty over Karabakh, took Moscow by surprise. During the operation, Russian peacekeepers remained passive, and Armenia’s subsequent public expressions of distrust toward Moscow further shifted regional dynamics. Russia found itself losing influence not only in Baku but also in Yerevan.   In recent months, Russian media outlets have intensified anti-Azerbaijani rhetoric, accusing Baku of promoting “Pan-Turkism,” aligning with the West, and failing to show loyalty to Moscow. Such narratives have deeply affected public perception in Azerbaijan. Among citizens and political circles alike, there is growing suspicion that Russia no longer seeks peace and stability in the region but instead aims to maintain leverage through instability.   Azerbaijan’s strengthening ties with Turkey, its push for the Zangezur Corridor, expanding cooperation with the European Union in energy, and increasingly close relations with Western actors directly contradict Russia’s strategic interests in the region. While Baku once pursued a balanced foreign policy, it is now transitioning toward a more assertive, principle-based approach. The shift indicates a growing preference for sovereignty and multi-vector partnerships, notably with Turkey, Pakistan, Israel, and Western allies.   Since mid-2024, Azerbaijan has observed what appears to be informal economic pressure from Russia. Delays at customs checkpoints, transport slowdowns, and unexplained technical barriers have been interpreted by Baku as punitive measures. In response, Azerbaijan has accelerated efforts to diversify trade routes, strengthening links within the Middle Corridor (Trans-Caspian route) and forming deeper economic ties with the Organization of Turkic States.   The information space has become another battleground. Russian state-controlled media are increasingly targeting Azerbaijan with disinformation and geopolitical accusations. In turn, Azerbaijan is responding with its own media strategy, working through public institutions, expert communities, and diaspora networks to present its position to international audiences. The informational dimension of the conflict has, in many ways, become as significant as the diplomatic and economic aspects.   Analysts suggest that Azerbaijan–Russia relations have entered a phase of “cold peace.” Diplomatic gestures and formal statements continue, but genuine strategic trust between the two capitals has eroded. For Azerbaijan, the priority is to pursue national interests without external dependency. For Russia, the goal is to preserve influence and resist Western encroachment in its perceived backyard. These competing priorities point toward either prolonged tensions or a potential confrontation in the future.   The growing rift between Baku and Moscow highlights Azerbaijan’s determination to act independently in pursuit of its national interests. Meanwhile, Russia’s increasing assertiveness and use of economic and informational tools reflect its struggle to retain its role in the South Caucasus. Whether the two countries can recalibrate their relationship based on mutual respect, or whether they slide into a deeper geopolitical rift, will significantly impact the region’s future. The outcome depends on one crucial question: Will they choose cooperation — or confrontation?