When power turns lawless, the result is not policy but
brutality. The latest revelation that Donald Trump secretly authorized the CIA
to conduct lethal operations in Venezuela exposes the United States’ old
imperial reflex — to destroy what it cannot control. Cloaked in the language of
“national security,” Washington is once again exporting death under the banner
of democracy.
According to The New York Times, Trump’s inner circle — led
by Secretary of State Marco Rubio and CIA Director John Ratcliffe — gave the
agency sweeping authority to target Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro, with
or without military coordination. This covert license coincides with Trump’s
deadly boat bombings in the Caribbean that have already claimed civilian lives.
What began as a “war on drugs” now reeks of a war for oil and geopolitical
dominance.
The much-hyped “America First” doctrine has mutated into an
unapologetic form of gunboat diplomacy. History is repeating itself — coups in
Guatemala, Chile, and Nicaragua are being replayed in a new theater. By
designating drug cartels as “terrorist organizations,” Trump has arrogated to
himself the right to kill without consequence, erasing the last boundaries
between law and lawlessness.
Human rights groups call it what it is — murder. Even
Colombian President Gustavo Petro warns that a new war zone has opened in the
Caribbean, a tragic reminder that Washington’s militarism remains as
indiscriminate as ever. The Caribbean, once a symbol of trade and culture,
risks becoming another testing ground for American aggression.
Trump’s Venezuela campaign is not a policy — it is a crime
unfolding in real time. Behind the patriotic slogans lies the same old formula:
destabilize, divide, and dominate.
Empires do not collapse when they are challenged — they
collapse when they mistake impunity for strength. Trump’s dirty war in the
Caribbean may well be remembered as that fatal arrogance, when America’s moral
compass finally sank beneath its own waves.
The start of the week was a rollercoaster. On Monday, the
benchmark index plunged by 4,600 points as rising border tensions with
Afghanistan, political instability in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and violent protests
in Punjab weighed heavily on sentiment. Yet, within 24 hours, the market staged
an extraordinary rebound — gaining nearly 7,000 points on Tuesday and
recovering most of its earlier losses.
According to Yousuf M. Farooq, Director of Research at Chase
Securities, the rebound was driven by an overnight easing of domestic unrest
and improving signals on the Afghanistan front. His observation underscores how
sentiment-driven and headline-sensitive the market remains, reacting more to
news flow than to fundamentals.
Analysts agree that valuations still look attractive, with
several sectors trading below their intrinsic worth. However, they also caution
that risks persist. Any slippage on the current account or fiscal front could
quickly reverse the recent gains. The macroeconomic environment remains
fragile, and the market’s wild swings are a reminder that stability in the PSX
cannot be achieved without stability in policy and politics alike.
Gold has long stood as the ultimate symbol of stability and
value. But in today’s financialized world, even this ancient asset has been
corrupted by speculation. Its price is no longer shaped by miners or jewelers,
but by traders and investment funds sitting in New York and London.
Through paper-based instruments — futures, derivatives, and
exchange-traded funds — the real gold market has been replaced by a digital
mirage.
The volume of “paper gold” traded daily now exceeds the
physical supply many times over. Most of these trades never result in delivery;
these are mere wagers on price movements, structured to enrich financial
institutions that thrive on volatility. Yet it is these speculative markets
that set the global benchmark, dictating prices for producers who dig real gold
out of the earth.
When prices rise, consumers are blamed for hoarding; when
they fall, producers are accused of oversupply. The truth is far simpler — and
more sinister. Speculators, hedge funds, and bullion banks create artificial
swings to profit from chaos.
This is not a free market; it is financial exploitation
disguised as efficiency. The nations that mine gold, particularly in Africa,
Asia, and Latin America, remain economically captive to benchmarks manipulated
in the West.
This distortion mirrors what has already happened in the oil
trade. Real producers carry the burden; paper traders pocket the rewards.
Unless gold pricing returns to physical delivery and transparent regional
exchanges, the world risks another systemic shock — one that could undermine
confidence not only in gold, but in the global financial order itself.
Gold’s value lies in its physical reality — in what can be
touched, stored, and trusted. Once that link is broken, even the world’s most
trusted metal becomes just another speculative bubble. And when it bursts, the
glitter will fade — leaving behind nothing but dust.
Pakistan’s long
association with the IMF has never truly been about stability; it has been
about control. What started in the name of “support” evolved into a vicious
cycle of borrowing, serving both foreign powers and the ruling elite at home.
During the Cold War, IMF
lending was less about economics and more about strategy. Pakistan’s geography
made it a convenient pawn in Washington’s global game of containment. Loans
came with neatly crafted “conditionalities,” but the real aim was to keep Pakistan’s
economy tethered to Western influence.
The much-advertised
structural reforms were cosmetic. Land reforms never touched the feudal elite,
tax reforms spared the powerful, and privatization transferred wealth to
cronies. Instead of fostering industrial growth, policies promoted consumer
industries — assembling fast-moving consumer goods rather than producing
capital or export goods. The result: an illusion of progress built on imports
and consumption.
With every bailout, the
dependency mindset grew stronger. The IMF was always available, and
policymakers were always willing. A belief took root — that salvation lies in
foreign help, not self-reliance.
After the Soviet invasion
of Afghanistan in the late 1970s, Pakistan was declared a “frontline ally.” The
US poured in funds and influence, effectively turning Pakistan’s economy into a
Cold War instrument. IMF support neatly aligned with Washington’s geopolitical
interests, ensuring compliance rather than reform.
Over the decades, this
external control merged with internal manipulation. Regime changes — military
or civilian — often bore foreign fingerprints. Today, the IMF stands not as a
partner in reform but as a symbol of economic subservience — proof that Pakistan’s
journey from aid to autonomy remains unfinished.
Noticeably
absent from the signing ceremony and discussions in Egypt were representatives
of Israel and Hamas, whose ceasefire—brokered by the United States—formally
began last week after two years of war in Gaza.
Among
those attending the Gaza Peace Summit were Palestinian Authority President
Mahmoud Abbas, French President Emmanuel Macron, German Chancellor Friedrich
Merz, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, Qatari Emir Shiekh Tamim bin Hamad,
Turkish President Erdogan, former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, and senior
officials from Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates.
The leaders posed for a group photo in front of a backdrop
reading “Peace 2025” before a formal signing ceremony tied to the ceasefire
deal.
Trump, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi, Turkish
President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and Qatari Emir Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani
signed the document on behalf of the participating nations, with world leaders
seated behind them.
“This
took 3,000 years to get to this point. Can you believe it? And it’s going to
hold up too. It’s going to hold up,” Trump said as he signed the document.
In his remarks, Trump called the signing “a turning point
for the region,” describing it as the culmination of months of diplomacy.
“This is the day that people across this region and around
the world have been working, striving, hoping, and praying for,” he said.
“With the historic agreement we have just signed, those
prayers of millions have finally been answered.”
Trump’s
first major announcement — declaring the Gaza conflict “a painful nightmare
finally over” — aimed to project him as the peacemaker who ended a bloody
chapter. But the reality on the ground tells a murkier story: Gaza remains
shattered, its future uncertain, and Israel’s hold over its security
unresolved.
For all his
talk of peace, Trump’s narrative was built more on optics than on outcomes.
In one of
the most controversial moments, he called on Israel’s president to pardon Prime
Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, dismissing his corruption charges as “trivial.”
That plea blurred the line between diplomacy and political favoritism. It was a
gesture that played well to Netanyahu’s loyalists but jarred with those who
still value judicial independence.
Equally
striking was Trump’s unexpected olive branch to Iran. Saying the US was ready
for a deal “when Tehran is,” he tried to reposition himself as the only leader
capable of balancing hostility with negotiation. Yet the statement raised
eyebrows — could Trump really reconcile his pro-Israel stance with outreach to
Iran, a country that views Israel as its sworn enemy?
He also
insisted Gaza must be “completely demilitarized” and that Israel’s security
“will never be compromised.” The phrasing underscored his alignment with
Israel’s long-standing narrative: security first, sovereignty later.
In the end,
Trump’s Knesset speech was less about the Middle East and more about reclaiming
his image as the global dealmaker.
It blended
symbolism with self-promotion, leaving unanswered whether his “new dawn” will
bring genuine peace or simply another round of political grandstanding.
