World Has Become Partner in Killing of Gazans

This writeup examines how global inaction, diplomatic protection, and delayed humanitarian mechanisms have contributed to the ongoing crisis in Gaza. It questions whether the world, intentionally or by default, has become a passive partner in the tragedy.

The war in Gaza is not unfolding in isolation. It is taking place within a global system where major powers supply weapons, veto ceasefire resolutions, and delay the creation of any independent administrative or security mechanism for Gaza.

This does not mean every nation is actively supporting the killings, but the combination of strategic silence, diplomatic protection, and ineffective humanitarian enforcement creates the impression that the world, by action or inaction, has become a partner in allowing the destruction to continue.

The United States and several European governments remain Israel’s principal military and diplomatic supporters. Arms transfers, intelligence sharing, and repeated vetoes at the UN Security Council have blocked ceasefire initiatives or international investigations.

Although discussions were held about a transitional authority or peacekeeping force for post-conflict Gaza, no structure has been implemented. As a result, Israel continues to control borders, airspace, and aid oversight.

Humanitarian aid pledges from international donors rarely translate into consistent delivery. Bureaucratic inspections, restricted crossings, and lack of secure corridors delay supplies.

Arab and Muslim governments issue statements but refrain from economic sanctions, diplomatic withdrawal, or coordinated action through the OIC or Arab League. Their responses remain political, not operational.

However, describing the entire world as a partner overlooks visible resistance. Countries such as South Africa, Brazil, Ireland, Spain, and Norway have openly condemned Israeli actions. South Africa has taken Israel to the International Court of Justice on genocide charges. Humanitarian agencies — UNRWA, WHO, Red Cross, Médecins Sans Frontières — continue to work despite operational hazards and loss of staff.

Public resistance is also significant, with widespread protests across Europe, the U.S., and Muslim-majority countries, including from Jewish and academic groups. Some regional states like Qatar, Egypt, and Jordan provide aid or mediate negotiations, although within limited parameters.

Therefore, global behavior reflects neither full complicity nor decisive opposition. It is a landscape of selective engagement, geopolitical caution, and lack of enforcement. The failure is not of words, but of action.

 

No One Is Talking About Gaza

The world seems to have forgotten Gaza. The much-trumpeted ceasefire was never peace—it was merely a pause, a calculated silence that allowed Israel to continue its assault under softer headlines. Killings, raids, and blockades persist, but the outrage has vanished. Western media, once overflowing with images of destruction, now devotes its front pages to Trump’s political theatrics and market gossip. This apathy is not accidental; it reflects selective morality and political convenience. When Ukraine suffers, it’s front-page news; when Gaza bleeds, it disappears. The ceasefire was not an end to violence but a rebranding of it—acceptable to Western capitals and ignored by global media. Gaza remains trapped between occupation and silence, its tragedy erased by those who claim to defend human rights.

When the so-called Gaza ceasefire was announced, the world sighed in relief. On October 16, 2026, I wrote “Gaza: Ceasefire Brings Pause, Not Peace.” Sadly, that assessment has proved accurate. What was projected as a humanitarian breakthrough has merely given Israel a quieter stage to continue its aggression—less visible, but equally lethal.

Killings, arrests, and systematic strangulation of Gaza’s population have not stopped. Reports by independent observers describe continued night raids, targeted assassinations, and a tightening blockade that deprives millions of food, medicine, and fuel. Yet, the international community acts as if peace has returned. It hasn’t. What returned is complacency—disguised as relief.

The Western media, once saturated with vivid images of destruction, has conveniently moved on. Its focus has shifted to Trump’s political drama, Wall Street turbulence, and AI-driven optimism. The suffering of Gaza has simply fallen off the editorial map. This silence is not a lapse; it is a choice. It reflects a hierarchy of human lives—a moral framework where victims matter only if their suffering fits Western narratives.

The tragedy is not only Israel’s continued impunity but also the media’s complicity in erasing it. The same outlets that once counted every missile strike now seem allergic to truth when it no longer serves their political comfort. When Ukraine bleeds, headlines multiply; when Gaza starves, the world looks away.

This selective blindness reveals a deeper sickness in global conscience. Human rights, it appears, are not universal—they are conditional, determined by who the victim is and who the perpetrator happens to be. Western capitals that preach democracy and humanitarian values have reduced Palestine to a talking point, not a principle.

Silence is not neutrality; it is endorsement. Every unreported killing, every censored image, every muted appeal strengthens the aggressor’s hand. Israel understands this perfectly. A quiet Gaza allows it to deepen occupation policies without scrutiny. And the world, addicted to short attention spans, gives it exactly that space.

International organizations remain trapped between bureaucratic inertia and political pressure. The so-called peace architects, who engineered the fragile ceasefire, have vanished from the scene. For them, “mission accomplished” meant restoring calm, not justice.

The truth is harsh: Gaza has been abandoned again—this time not under bombs, but under silence. Western media’s shift of focus from genocide to gossip exposes the moral decay of an information system guided by profit and politics, not by conscience.

Until the world admits that a ceasefire without accountability is merely an intermission between massacres, Gaza will remain a scar on the world’s conscience—a living reminder of how easily human suffering can be ignored when it is politically inconvenient.

 

 

 

 

Does Hamas Still Have Muscles to Violate Ceasefire?

After nearly 800 days of relentless Israeli bombardment, Gaza stands shattered — its people displaced, cities flattened, and infrastructure destroyed. Yet Israel continues to accuse Hamas of violating ceasefire terms. The question naturally arises: does Hamas, after such devastation, still possess the means to breach a truce, or is this accusation yet another attempt to justify continued aggression?

Since the beginning, Tel Aviv has framed its military operations as “defensive,” aimed at dismantling Hamas. But the scale and duration of the campaign tell another story — one of collective punishment rather than defense. Civilian areas, hospitals, and refugee camps have been repeatedly struck, erasing the line between combatant and non-combatant.

The power imbalance is stark. Israel, equipped with one of the world’s most advanced militaries, faces a besieged enclave surviving under blockade. In such a context, claims of Hamas violating ceasefires seem less credible and more like political cover for ongoing strikes. Each new round of violence devastates Gaza further while bolstering Israel’s domestic narrative of self-defense.

Globally, the reaction remains divided. Western powers still defend Israel’s “right to protect itself,” while UN bodies and human rights organizations warn of violations of international law. The destruction of civilian infrastructure, denial of humanitarian aid, and use of starvation as a weapon have drawn growing condemnation — yet no serious accountability follows.

Ironically, despite the prolonged war, Israel’s strategic goals remain unfulfilled. Hamas has not been eradicated; instead, its symbolic strength has grown amid Gaza’s suffering. Meanwhile, Israel’s moral and diplomatic standing continues to erode.

By insisting that Hamas alone violates the ceasefire, Israel attempts to retain moral high ground. But after 800 days of devastation, that claim sounds increasingly hollow. The real question is not whether Hamas still has the strength to fight — but whether Israel has the courage to stop a war that has already lost its purpose.

Why Trump Took So Long to End Israeli Killing in Gaza?

As Gaza bled, Washington watched. For weeks, bombs rained on civilians while the so-called champion of “peace through strength” stayed silent. Donald Trump, quick to boast of brokering deals, turned hesitant when the cost of morality threatened his politics. His long silence over Israel’s brutality was not confusion — it was complicity.

Trump’s trademark swagger vanished when Gaza burned. The self-proclaimed deal-maker watched from the sidelines as Israel’s relentless bombing turned a crowded strip into a graveyard. His hesitation wasn’t diplomacy — it was political calculation dressed as caution.

He delayed action because he feared offending the Israel lobby and evangelical base that bankroll and bolster his politics. Their loyalty mattered more than the lives lost under Israeli bombs.

Washington’s silence was not indecision; it was endorsement. By refusing to restrain Tel Aviv, Trump aligned moral blindness with political convenience.

Behind the scenes, his advisers argued that Israel remains America’s indispensable proxy in the Middle East, and any pressure might embolden Iran or upset Gulf partners.

In truth, Trump was unwilling to challenge a policy that defines US dominance in the region — where stability is measured by arms sales, not peace. Gaza’s children simply did not fit into that equation.

But the cost of silence mounted fast. The world watched in horror, and even US allies began questioning Washington’s humanity.

When images of famine and flattened hospitals flooded global screens, Trump finally called for restraint — a gesture too late to cleanse the blood on American hands.

His eventual push for ceasefire wasn’t moral awakening; it was damage control. The U.S. was losing global credibility, and Trump’s “America First” mantra was turning into “Morality Last.”

For all his talk of strength, Trump blinked when leadership demanded courage. Gaza will remain the chapter where his silence spoke louder than his slogans.

Hamas Agreeing to Ceasefire: Victory or Defeat

This ceasefire is not the end of war. It is merely the pause between two tragedies.

After months of destruction, displacement, and despair, Hamas has agreed to a ceasefire. Its supporters call it a “strategic pause,” but in truth, it reflects exhaustion — political, military, and moral. When resistance drifts from purpose to performance, it loses the essence of struggle and becomes an exercise in survival.

Hamas overestimated its resilience and underestimated the duplicity of the Arab world. The self-proclaimed defenders of Palestine turned spectators, mouthing empty slogans while doing business with Tel Aviv.

The Western champions of democracy and human rights proved, once again, that these values have geographical limits. In this moral vacuum, Hamas found itself fighting alone — a resistance without reinforcements.

The ceasefire may silence the guns, but it cannot disguise the catastrophe. Gaza stands in ruins — its governance crippled, its population scattered, its children scarred.

Israel may not have destroyed Hamas, but it has devastated everything around it. The resistance lives, but the society it claimed to protect lies in ashes.

Yet Israel’s so-called “victory” is equally hollow. Two years of relentless war have brought neither peace nor security. Instead, Israel finds itself morally isolated and diplomatically cornered. The global sympathy it once commanded has turned to disgust. Even among its traditional allies, questions are being asked: how long can “self-defense” justify collective punishment?

To conclude, is this ceasefire a victory or a defeat?

For Hamas, it is survival without success; for Israel, dominance without dignity. Both sides are trapped in a cycle of destruction that yields no justice, only rubble and resentment.

The true defeat lies with the international community — which has normalized occupation, tolerated brutality, and renamed surrender as “peace.”

 

کون بنے گا غزہ کا بادشاہ

غزہ جل رہا ہے، مگر تخت خالی نہیں۔ ہر کوئی بادشاہ بننے کو بے چین ہے — کوئی بندوق لے کر، کوئی قرارداد اٹھا کر، کوئی انسان کے آنسو بیچ کر۔ یہ وہ بادشاہت ہے جس کے محل ملبے میں دفن ہیں، اور رعایا مٹی میں۔

عرب دنیا اب صرف بیانات کی بادشاہت چلاتی ہے۔ کوئی قطر میں کانفرنس بلاتا ہے، کوئی ریاض میں “امن” کے تسبیح دانے گنتا ہے۔ ہر کوئی سمجھتا ہے کہ اس کی خاموشی ہی دانش مندی ہے۔ غزہ میں خون بہے یا بچوں کے لاشے بکھریں، اصل مسئلہ یہ ہے کہ فوٹو سیشن میں کون اگلی صف میں بیٹھے گا۔ بادشاہت کے خواب اب تسبیح کے دانوں سے نہیں، “لائکس” اور “ڈالرز” سے گنے جاتے ہیں۔

مغربی دنیا بھی کم تماشائی نہیں۔ کوئی آزادیِ اظہار کے پرچم تلے جلتے گھروں کی تصویریں چھاپتا ہے، اور کوئی “دہشت گرد” کا لیبل لگا کر قبر کی مٹی ہلکی کر دیتا ہے۔ جنہوں نے فلسطینیوں کو تاریخ کا سب سے بڑا سبق دینے کا وعدہ کیا تھا، وہ اب جغرافیہ بھی ان سے چھین چکے ہیں۔

اور حماس؟ وہ بھی بادشاہت کی دوڑ میں پیچھے نہیں۔ تخت بچانے کے لیے رعایا قربان، عزت بچانے کے لیے لاشیں گنی جا رہی ہیں۔ مزاحمت کا نعرہ اب زندہ رہنے کی نہیں، اقتدار بچانے کی علامت بن چکا ہے۔

غزہ میں بادشاہت کا تاج اب خون میں بھیگا ہوا ہے — مگر دعوے دار سب مسکراتے ہیں۔ کوئی اسرائیل کی طرف دیکھتا ہے، کوئی واشنگٹن کی، کوئی تہران کی۔ سب جانتے ہیں، جو بادشاہ بنے گا، وہ رعایا کے خون سے نہیں، خاموشی سے حکومت کرے گا۔

اور رعایا؟ وہ اب صرف ملبے کے نیچے رہ گئی ہے، جہاں بادشاہت کے تمام خواب دفن ہو چکے ہیں۔
آخر میں صرف ایک سوال باقی ہے —
غزہ کا بادشاہ کون بنے گا؟
جو سب کو مار چکا ہے، یا جو اب بھی زندہ رہنے کی سزا بھگت رہا ہے؟

Gaza War: Russia and China Look Indifferent

At first glance, Russia and China seem unmoved by the relentless bloodshed in Gaza. Their silence is often mistaken for apathy. But in reality, both are pursuing a deliberate and ruthless calculation — letting the United States drown in a moral crisis of its own making.

Moscow and Beijing see Gaza not as a regional conflict but as the ultimate exposure of Western hypocrisy. For decades, Washington lectured the world on human rights while funding Israel’s occupation machinery. Now, as civilian deaths pile up, the United States finds itself stripped of credibility. Russia and China see no reason to save America from the consequences of its double standards.

At the United Nations, their diplomacy is coldly efficient. Both talk of peace but avoid taking any direct lead, knowing well that every American veto on a ceasefire resolution is another self-inflicted wound for Washington. Why intervene when your rival insists on showcasing its moral bankruptcy before the world?

For Russia, already locked in the Ukraine war, Gaza is an unexpected advantage — a distraction that diverts Western attention and resources.

For China, the war exposes America’s declining global authority, strengthening Beijing’s narrative of a fairer, multipolar world. Both understand that the longer Gaza burns, the weaker US influence becomes in the Global South.

Neither Moscow nor Beijing wants to be entangled in Middle Eastern chaos. They prefer to appear detached while quietly cultivating Arab trust and sympathy. Their silence is not a void — it is strategy, precision, and patience rolled into one.

The West calls it indifference. In truth, it is the art of letting a rival crumble under the weight of its own contradictions.

The opponents of Russia and China say these countries are not neutral; they are opportunistic. And in Gaza’s tragedy, they have found a powerful stage on which America’s self-proclaimed moral leadership is collapsing — in full view of a watching world.

Two Years of War in Gaza, Israel Gains Nothing

Two years of unrelenting war on Gaza, and Israel still stands where it began — trapped in a cycle of destruction, denial, and diplomatic decay. What was marketed as a mission to “eliminate Hamas” has turned into a grim display of state violence that has neither secured Israel nor silenced its critics. If anything, Israel has lost far more than it has gained — morally, politically, and strategically.

Israel’s military might has flattened Gaza, but not Hamas. The resistance remains alive, its ideology more entrenched than ever among Palestinians who have nothing left to lose. Israel’s massive bombardment of homes, hospitals, and schools has not eradicated militancy — it has multiplied it.

The claim of “self-defense” now rings hollow in a world that has seen unarmed civilians buried under rubble and children starved by blockades. The war has exposed not strength, but Israel’s insecurity and moral bankruptcy.

Prime Minister Netanyahu, clinging to power through fear and militarism, has turned Israel into a pariah. Once viewed as a “democracy under threat,” Israel is now increasingly seen as an occupying force addicted to impunity.

Western governments still offer rhetorical support, but their streets tell a different story — millions protesting against Israel’s brutality and questioning their leaders’ complicity.

The regional fallout is equally severe. The Abraham Accords lie in political ruins, Arab regimes have distanced themselves, and Iran’s proxies have gained renewed legitimacy. Instead of isolating Hamas, Israel has isolated itself. The Arab world, once divided, now finds a common cause again — Palestine.

Economically, the war has drained Israel’s resources, scared away investors, and dented its global tech-driven image. The cost of perpetual war is beginning to show on Israel’s economy and psyche alike.

Two years on, Israel has neither peace nor security — only international condemnation and deep moral scars. Its military triumphs have yielded strategic emptiness.

Gaza lies in ruins, but Israel’s reputation lies beside it — shattered and unredeemable. In the long run, a state cannot bomb its way to legitimacy.

Israel’s real existential dilemma is not Hamas, but its own refusal to accept that lasting security can only be built on justice, not occupation.

 

Germany involved in Israeli attacks on Iran

In June, Germany was one of the few countries to back Israeli strikes on Iran’s civilian, nuclear, and military sites, and arguably the most vocal among them. The German Chancellor angered both Iranians and Germans during the conflict when he defended Israel’s aggression, stating that it was doing "dirty work" for Western states.

Friedrich Merz also stated that he had been notified of the attacks in advance, adding that not attacking Iranians was not an "option" for Israelis, who, he claimed, had the right to "defend themselves." Israel carried out the attacks, killing over 1000 Iranians in the process, claiming they were intended to prevent Iran from developing nuclear weapons. 

The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) had found no evidence that Iran was moving toward nuclear weapons—a fact most recently reiterated by the UN nuclear watchdog’s Director-General, Rafael Grossi, last week. Israel's decision to launch an all-out war against Iran brought the region to the brink of a conflagration that, had it not been contained, would have had long-lasting reverberations not only for West Asia but also for the Western world, a fact Germany was fully aware of when it backed the action.

New information obtained by the Tehran Times reveals that Germany’s support for Israel during the 12-day war extended beyond political and diplomatic statements. Berlin, in fact, played an active role in helping Israel achieve its war goals by deploying troops to the occupied territories.

A member of the Israeli army with knowledge of the matter has told Iranian intelligence that a group of German military forces was stationed in Israel at the request of the regime during the 12-day war. They participated in military operations, under an agreement that required Israel to keep Germany’s involvement a secret. The agreement was made in confidentiality between German and Israeli commanders, but it has been obtained by Iranians.   

Germany’s aid to Israel marks the second time it has joined an aggressor against Iran. Berlin also supplied Iraqi Dictator Saddam Hussein with chemical weapons, which he used during his invasion of Iran in the 1980s.

The Tehran Times understands that German troops were financially compensated for their service to Israel but chose to leave the occupied territories immediately after the war ended despite their initial promises. As the conflict escalated and Iran targeted several military and sensitive sites, the Israelis discovered that the German forces were reluctant to continue their involvement.

According to a leaked Israeli assessment, the German forces’ departure unnerved the regime. Zionists were content with how France participated in the war on Israel’s behalf. 

It remains unclear whether the German parliament approved the deployment. The German government is constitutionally prohibited from sending troops to a foreign war on its own initiative and is legally required to seek a majority vote in the Bundestag first. This system was deliberately established after World War II to prevent the executive branch from unilaterally initiating war.

The Tehran Times has been informed that details regarding the names of the German personnel involved, the nature of the collaboration, and supporting documentation have been made available to Iran.

The revelation comes as Israel grapples with what Hebrew media calls a "spy crisis." According to a report by Israel's Internal Security Agency (SHINBET), espionage cases in Israel increased by approximately 400 percent in 2024. That figure is expected to have risen further in the first half of 2025.

Several Israelis have been arrested on espionage charges in recent months, with the regime linking almost all of them to Iran.

Iran’s Intelligence Minister Esmaeil Khatib has stated that a large number of Israelis collaborate with Iran either for money or out of hatred towards Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

 

Iran's rise to regional powerhouse rattles friends and foes alike

Iran’s steady emergence as a regional powerhouse is reshaping the Middle East’s strategic landscape — and not everyone is comfortable with it. What makes Tehran’s ascent intriguing is that it unsettles both adversaries and allies, blurring traditional fault lines and forcing recalculations from Riyadh to Washington, and from Moscow to Beijing.

For decades, Iran was viewed through the prism of sanctions, isolation, and revolutionary zeal. Despite economic constraints and diplomatic pressure, it has built robust influence through a mix of ideology, resilience, and strategic alliances. Its regional proxies in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq, and Yemen — once dismissed as militant networks — now form a formidable web of influence, capable of shaping outcomes from the Gulf to the Mediterranean.

Iran’s growing clout has not only alarmed its foes. Even its supposed friends find Tehran’s assertiveness unnerving. The Gulf states, after years of rivalry, cautiously reopened diplomatic channels, realizing that confrontation is costly. Yet normalization is driven more by necessity than trust.

Saudi Arabia’s rapprochement, brokered by China, underscores this pragmatic shift — acknowledging Iran’s influence while seeking to contain it through diplomacy rather than confrontation.

The United States, meanwhile, remains entangled in a paradox. Washington cannot ignore Iran’s expanding regional reach, but its policy of maximum pressure has yielded minimal results.

The European powers, too, find themselves frustrated — wanting engagement on nuclear and energy fronts but constrained by American sanctions.

Russia and China, while cultivating ties with Tehran, remain wary of an overconfident Iran that might complicate their own regional interests.

Domestically, Iran’s leadership is projecting its defiance as strength — a message that resonates in a region weary of Western intervention. Yet, its economy remains fragile, and social unrest continues to simmer beneath the surface.

Iran’s rise is not just about military might or regional leverage; it is a reminder that power in today’s Middle East comes with contradictions.

Tehran’s growing assertiveness has turned it into both a symbol of resistance and a source of regional anxiety — a paradoxical power that leaves neither friends nor foes at ease.

 

Two Years of Israeli War on Gaza

Two years into Israeli war on Gaza, the region stands devastated — physically, morally, and strategically. What began as a campaign of “self-defense” has turned into a prolonged assault that has razed cities, erased families, and rewritten the moral code of modern warfare. Israel may claim tactical victories, but the strategic outcome is a quagmire that even its staunchest allies struggle to justify.

Gaza today is a graveyard of statistics — tens of thousands of dead, hundreds of thousands displaced, and almost the entire population dependent on aid. The relentless bombardment has not uprooted Hamas; it has only deepened the political and emotional trench dividing Israelis and Palestinians. Far from eliminating militancy, Israeli campaign has turned Gaza into a permanent symbol of resistance and despair — a living wound in the conscience of the Middle East.

The Israeli leadership sells this war as a quest for security. Yet, two years on, Israel is less secure, not more. Its borders remain tense, international isolation grows, and domestic protests simmer under the surface of official triumphalism.

The myth of “precision warfare” has collapsed under the rubble of homes, schools, and hospitals. Even Washington, Israel’s diplomatic shield, is beginning to show fatigue — forced to defend the indefensible in every international forum.

Meanwhile, the Arab world’s silence has been deafening. Once vocal capitals have turned pragmatic, their outrage replaced by quiet normalization. The Palestinians, once betrayed by borders, are now betrayed by indifference.

Israel’s war on Gaza is no longer about eliminating Hamas — it is about maintaining an illusion that military dominance can substitute for political vision. But wars end; occupations linger; and history has a ruthless memory.

Two years later, Israel may have won battles, but it is losing the narrative — and with it, the moral ground that once set it apart from those it condemns.

Gaza’s ruins are not only a testament to Palestinian suffering but also to Israel’s strategic and moral decay. The war may still rage, but the victory, if ever claimed, will be hollow.

 

Israel Propping Up Clerics, It Wants to Topple

Israel loves to project itself as the master strategist of the Middle East, but its obsession with weakening Iran’s clergy-led regime has turned into a textbook case of shooting oneself in the foot. Every strike, every sanction pushed through Western allies, every act of aggression meant to undercut Tehran’s clerics only hardens their grip on power. Far from collapsing, the system feeds off Israel’s hostility.

Nationalism is a powerful weapon. Iranians who may loathe the suffocating theocracy often rally behind it when Israel rattles its sabers. The clergy has perfected the art of turning external threats into political oxygen. By painting Israel as an existential menace, the clerics recast themselves as the sole guardians of sovereignty. Instead of cracking the system, Tel Aviv provides its clergy foes with the ultimate justification for survival.

Worse still, Israel’s strategy systematically silences the only real alternative inside Iran: reformists. Moderates who advocate engagement with the world are mocked as naïve or treacherous whenever Israel ups the ante. The hardliners gleefully point to every strike and sanction to prove that diplomacy is a fool’s game. In doing so, Israel eliminates any space for evolution from within, ensuring that Iran remains dominated by the most rigid voices.

And then there’s the economic side. Sanctions and isolation have not strangled the clergy; they’ve enriched it. The opponents often allege, the Revolutionary Guards and clerical networks thrive on smuggling, black markets, and sanction-busting schemes. Ordinary Iranians pay the price with rising prices and shrinking opportunities, while the very elites Israel wants to weaken grow stronger.

Israel’s strategy is not just flawed — it is counterproductive. Instead of destabilizing Iran’s clerical establishment, it props it up, fuels its legitimacy, and crushes dissent. Tel Aviv claims to be undermining its greatest enemy; in reality, it is handing the clergy the very tools it needs to endure.

The truth is brutal: Israel’s war against Iran’s clerics may be the biggest gift it has ever given them.

 

US double standards: Calling Hamas Terrorists, Negotiating Anyway

The United States loves to preach moral clarity - we do not negotiate with terrorists. Hamas, Washington insists, is a terrorist outfit responsible for bloodshed and chaos. Yet when the fighting in Gaza escalates and pressure mounts, the very same US administration finds itself scrambling for ceasefires—talking, directly or through intermediaries, to the very group it vilifies.

This is not strategy; it is double standards dressed up as pragmatism. US labels Hamas terrorists when it wants to project toughness at home, but when hostages are in danger, when civilian deaths spark global outrage, or when Arab allies threaten to break ranks, suddenly those “terrorists” become indispensable negotiating partners. The moral line evaporates the moment US interests are at stake.

The hypocrisy runs deep. The US slammed the Taliban for decades, only to sit across the table with them in Doha. It demonized Iraqi insurgents, then quietly cut deals to protect its own troops. It threatens “rogue states” like North Korea, then rushes into summits when the nuclear rhetoric escalates. With Hamas, the pattern is the same - condemnation in speeches, cooperation in practice.

This duplicity has consequences. By insisting Hamas is illegitimate yet negotiating with it whenever convenient, Washington undermines its own credibility. The message is clear: terrorism is a negotiable label, applied or ignored depending on political expediency. For people in the Middle East, this only confirms what they already suspect—that US policy is not about principles, but about protecting its own interests and Israel’s dominance.

If the US truly believes Hamas is a terrorist organization, then it should be consistent and refuse talks, no matter the cost. If, on the other hand, it recognizes that Hamas is an unavoidable political actor, then it should drop the pretense and admit it. Straddling both positions—condemnation in rhetoric, negotiation in reality—is not statesmanship. It is hypocrisy.

Can Washington Buy Hezbollah Guns?

Washington believes US$230 million can buy stability by disarming Hezbollah and empowering Lebanon’s army. In a country where weapons are seen as survival, and aid is tied to political strings, dollars may deepen divisions rather than deliver sovereignty.

United States is betting big on Lebanon. Its latest US$230 million aid package, funneled into the army and security forces, comes with one not-so-hidden agenda: disarm Hezbollah. For Washington, the formula is simple—dollars for sovereignty. Strengthen the Lebanese Armed Forces, dismantle weapons caches, tie reconstruction money to compliance, and Hezbollah will finally be forced under state control.

But Hezbollah is not a street gang waiting to be bought out. It is Lebanon’s most powerful political and military force, one that commands loyalty, provides services, and—above all—wields arms that many see as the only shield against Israel. When bombs fell on Beirut in 2006, it was not the Lebanese army that stood firm, but Hezbollah. To expect the group to trade rockets for US money is to misunderstand its very identity.

The US plan hinges on a fragile bargain: Hezbollah hands over weapons, Israel halts incursions, and Lebanon begins to rebuild. Yet history says otherwise. Israeli jets still scream across Lebanese skies with impunity. Promises of restraint ring hollow to a movement born from decades of occupation and war. In Hezbollah’s calculus, surrendering arms is not reform—it is suicide.

Washington frames this as state-building. Hezbollah calls it blackmail. By tying basic recovery—electricity, infrastructure, reconstruction—to disarmament, the US is accused of holding Lebanon’s survival hostage. Aid, in this view, is just another weapon of war, designed to weaken “the resistance” where bombs failed.

The clash is stark: United States believes money can buy stability; Hezbollah insists weapons guarantee it. In between stands a broken Lebanon, desperate for relief yet divided over who really protects it.

If Washington thinks $230 million will unravel a militia that survived wars, sanctions, and sieges, it may soon discover that in Lebanon, guns are worth more than dollars—and sovereignty is not for sale.

 

Flotilla Confrontation: Security Meets Humanitarian Defiance

The clash on the Mediterranean was more than a naval interception; it was the meeting point of two uncompromising mindsets. Israel, driven by security fears, saw the flotilla as a breach of sovereignty. The organizers, propelled by humanitarian urgency, saw it as a moral duty. The confrontation at sea exposed the deeper conflict on land—between a state that insists on safety at all costs and activists who believe silence in the face of suffering is complicity.

For Israel, the blockade of Gaza is not an option but a shield. In its worldview, Gaza is governed by Hamas, a militant force openly hostile to the Jewish state. Every unchecked shipment, Israel argues, risks smuggling in rockets or arms. From this vantage point, the blockade is an unfortunate but necessary firewall. The flotilla’s defiance, therefore, was not seen as a humanitarian act but as a provocation, a test of sovereignty. Intercepting the vessels was, in Israel’s eyes, enforcement of deterrence—not an act of aggression.

The flotilla organizers saw the situation through a very different lens. For them, Gaza is less about security threats and more about a humanitarian catastrophe. Years of blockade have left two million people trapped in an economic and social vise. The organizers framed their mission not simply as aid delivery but as civil disobedience at sea. Their ships carried food and medicine, but more importantly, they carried symbolism—an attempt to shine a spotlight on suffering and force the international community to reckon with policies they believe amount to collective punishment.

Both narratives have their logic, and both are uncompromising. Israel’s security calculus is rooted in bitter experience of rocket fire and attacks, leaving little room for risk-taking. The activists, meanwhile, operate on the conviction that moral duty overrides political boundaries. Neither side expected to concede; both expected to be challenged.

That is why confrontation was inevitable. The tragedy is that it deepened rather than bridged the divide. Israel reinforced its image as uncompromising, while the activists underscored their point that humanitarian access is blocked. In the end, the flotilla standoff revealed more than a naval skirmish—it laid bare the gulf between security fears and humanitarian imperatives, a gulf the world has yet to find the courage to close.

Trump’s Gaza Plan: A Critical Evaluation

US President Donald Trump has recently unveiled Gaza proposal aiming at an immediate cessation of large-scale hostilities, swift hostage returns, and an internationally supervised transitional mechanism for aid and reconstruction. The plan’s clarity of purpose and rapid timeline respond to urgent humanitarian imperatives and reflect the international community’s appetite to halt suffering quickly. Yet clarity is not the same as feasibility.

The plan conditions major concessions — disarmament, handover of local administration, and the release of hostages within days — on compliance by an armed movement embedded in a densely populated territory. Observers warn that such hard deadlines may be operationally impractical and risk provoking standoffs rather than negotiated de-escalation.

Legitimacy is another central issue. The initiative was advanced by external actors and endorsed publicly by several regional capitals and Israel, but it was not the product of inclusive negotiation with the full range of Palestinian stakeholders. That gap raises questions about local ownership, representation, and the long-term acceptability of an externally driven transitional authority.

Equally important are enforcement and verification. The plan sketches mechanisms for aid flow and prisoner exchanges but leaves underdefined who will verify disarmament, guarantee security guarantees, or arbitrate disputes if steps stall. Without robust, impartial monitoring and contingent incentives, incremental breaches could quickly unravel fragile progress.

Finally, the proposal’s political balance matters. Supporters argue it prioritizes an end to violence and rapid relief; critics say it privileges immediate security outcomes over parallel political guarantees that address grievances and political rights.

A genuinely neutral approach would pair urgent humanitarian measures with credible, rights-based pathways for political resolution and accountability.

Recommendation: recast the plan as phased and conditional — immediate, verified humanitarian pauses; monitored hostage-prisoner exchanges; a time-bound international oversight role with clear benchmarks; and a parallel roadmap for political rights and reconstruction commitments.

Only by combining urgency with inclusivity and impartial verification can any proposal hope to deliver sustainable stability rather than a temporary reprieve.

Ultimately, durable peace will require compromises by all parties, sustained regional cooperation, and transparent international oversight to maintain trust and mechanisms for accountability.

Understanding Netanyahu’s Resistance to Palestinian Statehood Recognition

The question of Palestinian statehood continues to dominate debates at the United Nations, where an increasing number of countries have formally recognized Palestine. However, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu remains firmly opposed. His resistance is not only political but also rooted in a complex intersection of security concerns, territorial disputes, and domestic dynamics.

From a security perspective, Israel under Netanyahu argues that recognition of a Palestinian state could pose serious risks. The Israeli leadership contends that without robust guarantees, such recognition might empower militant groups, potentially turning Palestinian territory into a base for armed activity against Israel. This framing allows Netanyahu to position statehood recognition as a matter of national defense rather than political compromise.

A second dimension involves the status of land and settlements. Over the years, Israeli settlements in the West Bank have expanded significantly. International recognition of Palestine would cast these settlements in an unequivocally illegal light under international law, creating new diplomatic and legal challenges for Israel. For Netanyahu, resisting recognition is tied directly to maintaining territorial control and avoiding pressures to dismantle or freeze settlement activity.

Domestic politics also play a decisive role. Netanyahu’s governing coalitions have often included right-wing and religious nationalist parties that categorically reject Palestinian statehood. Within this political framework, any concession toward recognition could destabilize his government. Thus, opposition to statehood is not only ideological but also a strategy of political survival.

Finally, Netanyahu’s regional strategy favors normalization with Arab states without linking it directly to Palestinian aspirations. The Abraham Accords exemplify this approach, where Israel advanced ties with Gulf states while leaving the Palestinian issue unresolved. Recognition of Palestine at the UN challenges this strategy by reasserting the centrality of the Palestinian question in Middle Eastern politics.

Netanyahu’s opposition to Palestinian statehood recognition can be understood as the convergence of security considerations, settlement policies, domestic political imperatives, and regional strategy. It reflects Israel’s broader attempt to manage the Palestinian question on its own terms, rather than through international forums.

 

Trump-Netanyahu Peace Plan: Ceasefire or Trap

The Trump–Netanyahu meeting in New York was staged as a diplomatic triumph. Cameras clicked, statements flowed, and a so-called historic deal was announced. Israel has formally endorsed Trump’s 20-point Gaza peace plan, but beneath the fanfare lies a script written as much for domestic politics as for genuine peace.

At the heart of the plan are four pillars: 1) an immediate ceasefire if accepted, 2) release of hostages within 72 hours, 3) a phased Israeli withdrawal, and 4) disarmament of Hamas. On paper, this sounds like a path out of a devastating war. In reality, it looks more like an ultimatum dressed as diplomacy.

The governance structure proposed is even more telling. Gaza would not return to the Palestinians in any meaningful sense but be handed over to a technocratic committee under international oversight. A “Board of Peace” chaired by Trump—flanked by international figures like Tony Blair—would supervise the transition. Hamas, the very power broker in Gaza, is not only excluded but delegitimized entirely. This is less a peace plan than a regime-change blueprint.

The Trump–Netanyahu warning was clear, Hamas must accept the plan “the easy way,” or Israel—with full American backing—will impose “the hard way.” This is not mediation; it is coercion.

For Netanyahu, who faces political vulnerability at home, US cover for renewed aggression is a golden ticket. For Trump, the deal enhances his image as a global dealmaker ahead of a bruising election cycle.

Yet the glaring omission remains Palestinian statehood. By skirting this fundamental issue, the plan buys short-term tactical gains but undermines any sustainable settlement.

Arab capitals, from Cairo to Doha, understand that without Hamas’ consent, the blueprint collapses under its own weight. No technocratic committee or international board can govern Gaza in defiance of its most powerful actor.

Trump and Netanyahu call this peace. In truth, it is a gamble - either Hamas yields, or Gaza is marched toward another round of bloodshed under international applause.

Far from solving the conflict, the deal risks deepening it. A plan that sidelines one side while empowering the other is not peace—it is merely the pause before the storm.

Global Sumud Flotilla approaching Gaza

According to media reports, an international aid flotilla is approaching the Gaza Strip in a bid to break an Israeli blockade on the Palestinian enclave.

“We are 570 kilometers (307.7 nautical miles) away from reaching Gaza,” the International Committee for Breaking the Siege on Gaza said on X.

Tony La Piccirella, an Italian activist from the Global Sumud Flotilla, said in a video statement that they will reach on Tuesday the point that Madleen and Handala aid ships had been intercepted by Israeli naval forces in previous attempts to lift the Israeli siege and deliver humanitarian aid.

On July 26, Israeli naval forces intercepted the Handala aid ship as it neared Gaza’s shores and escorted it to Ashdod Port. The vessel had reached about 70 nautical miles from Gaza, surpassing the distance covered by the Madleen, which made it 110 miles before it had been stopped.

A group of activists joined the Global Sumud Flotilla from the Mediterranean on Monday, and two more boats are joining from the Greek Cypriot Administration and Turkey. The biggest ship of the flotilla will set sail on Tuesday with 100 on board, the activist said.

La Piccirella said in addition to Italian and Spanish navy vessels that provide protection for the flotilla, three more countries are considering sending more military vessels, without revealing the names of these countries.

“So, it's getting bigger. And it's not about us, about the Global Sumud Flotilla. It's like a movement with hundreds of people at sea and millions of people on land, and it's not stoppable until the siege is broken,” he said.

The Global Sumud Flotilla, made up of about 50 ships, set sail earlier this month to break Israel’s blockade on Gaza and deliver humanitarian aid, particularly medical supplies, to the war-ravaged enclave.

Since March 02, Israel has fully closed Gaza’s crossings, blocking food and aid convoys and deepening famine conditions in the enclave.

The Israeli army has killed over 66,000 Palestinians, most of them women and children, in Gaza since October 2023. The relentless bombardment has rendered the enclave uninhabitable and led to starvation and the spread of diseases.

 

 

Israel’s Obsession with Iran: Supremacy, Not Survival

Israel presents its confrontation with Iran as a fight for survival. It propagates Tehran seeks its destruction, and therefore preemptive action is necessary. Yet behind this rhetoric lies a harder reality—Israel’s true concern is not annihilation but the erosion of its strategic supremacy.

At the center of this tension is Iran’s nuclear program. Israel is the Middle East’s only nuclear power, though it never admits it officially. For decades it has enjoyed this monopoly as the ultimate insurance policy.

Iran, even without a bomb, is branded an existential menace. What alarms Tel Aviv is not that Tehran would attack with nuclear weapons, but that a nuclear-capable Iran would undermine Israel’s unrivaled leverage. In other words, it is not fear of destruction, but fear of parity.

The second driver is Iran’s support for resistance groups. Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Gaza—these are not armies that can topple Israel, but they have repeatedly punctured its aura of invincibility. Each rocket barrage, each fortified position along the border, is viewed in Tel Aviv as an extension of Iranian influence, shrinking Israel’s space for unchecked action.

Ideology intensifies the clash. Iran refuses to recognize Israel, while Israeli leaders—from Netanyahu onward—frame Tehran as the new Nazi Germany. This absolutist narrative forecloses compromise and justifies covert assassinations, cyber sabotage, airstrikes in Syria, and endless lobbying for harsher sanctions.

The deeper layer is geopolitical. Among Middle Eastern states, only Iran possesses the population, resources, and regional reach to contest Israel’s dominance. Neutralizing Tehran means securing Israel’s role as the region’s undisputed military power—backed by Washington, tolerated by Arab monarchies, and free to redraw the political map to its liking.

Israel’s Iran obsession is not about survival. It is about ensuring that no other state can balance its power. By disguising this pursuit of supremacy as self-defense, Israel sustains a cycle of hostility that makes genuine peace impossible.

The world buys the existential threat narrative, but the truth is starker - Israel seeks not containment of Iran, but its permanent crippling.