Dichotomy of Western Media

The Western media’s claim of being the custodian of truth and free expression has long lost its moral weight. What remains is a sophisticated machinery of selective storytelling that serves political convenience rather than journalistic integrity. The recent contrast between the “royal welcome” headlines of Donald Trump’s visit to Japan and the near-total blackout of mass demonstrations against him during the ASEAN summit speaks volumes about this duplicity.

When Trump landed in Tokyo, Western networks and newspapers competed to romanticize his reception — highlighting ceremonial gestures, lavish banquets, and supposed diplomatic warmth. Yet, when he visited Southeast Asia shortly after, facing widespread protests and public outrage, the same media either looked away or buried the story in a few inconspicuous lines. The silence was not accidental; it was calculated.

This pattern exposes the deep bias embedded in Western media — a bias not of ideology alone but of power. Stories that reinforce Western dominance are amplified, while narratives that challenge its legitimacy are suppressed. Such editorial selectivity does not merely distort facts; it shapes public consciousness and global opinion in favor of Western interests. It turns journalism from a public service into an instrument of geopolitical influence.

The hypocrisy is glaring. Western outlets spare no opportunity to lecture developing nations on press freedom and transparency, yet they themselves censor, filter, and manipulate when the truth threatens to unsettle their political comfort. They spotlight dissent in non-Western capitals but turn blind when protests erupt against their own leaders or allies.

In the age of digital information, this arrogance is being exposed. Independent media from Asia, Africa, and Latin America are challenging the monopoly of Western narratives, revealing what global audiences were never meant to see. The supposed guardians of democracy in media now stand accused of practicing the very propaganda they denounce elsewhere.

Until the Western media learns to report with honesty — not through the lens of self-interest — its sermons on “press freedom” will continue to sound hollow, and its credibility will keep eroding. The world no longer accepts selective truth as journalism.

SAARC: Awakening a Sleeping Might

Reviving the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) is not a romantic ideal; it is a strategic necessity. The global order is shifting toward regional blocs that consolidate economic and political influence — from ASEAN and the EU to the African Continental Free Trade Area. South Asia cannot afford to remain fragmented when its combined GDP already exceeds US$4 trillion and its population represents a quarter of the world. A dormant SAARC limits each member’s bargaining power, constrains trade diversification, and weakens collective resilience against climate and security threats.

The process of revival begins with institutional restructuring. SAARC’s Secretariat in Kathmandu must be transformed from a symbolic coordination office into an empowered regional policy hub. This requires financial autonomy, a merit-based staffing system, and authority to monitor and evaluate implementation.

Member states should establish a SAARC Development Fund, enabling cross-border infrastructure, health, and education projects independent of political disruptions. Regular ministerial meetings, even at sub-regional levels, can sustain policy momentum when summits stall.

Economic integration remains the most practical catalyst for reactivation. South Asia’s intra-regional trade potential is estimated at over US$100 billion, yet remains trapped below 6 percent of total commerce.

The complete operationalization of the South Asian Free Trade Area (SAFTA) must be prioritized, coupled with the removal of non-tariff barriers and the adoption of digital customs and payment systems.

A regional e-commerce and logistics framework could integrate small and medium enterprises across borders, reducing trade costs and increasing competitiveness.

Energy cooperation offers another powerful unifying platform. Hydropower trade among Nepal, Bhutan, and India, and gas pipeline connectivity involving Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan could underpin mutual interdependence.

A “SAARC Energy Corridor,” integrating electricity grids and renewable-energy investment, would not only enhance supply security but also establish climate-friendly growth foundations.

People-to-people diplomacy is equally critical. Academic partnerships, student mobility programs, media collaboration, and cultural exchanges can foster regional consciousness that transcends political disputes.

Civil-society engagement and private-sector participation should complement intergovernmental dialogue.

The long-term sustainability of SAARC lies not in bureaucratic communiqués but in public ownership of the regional project.

Pakistan’s role in this reawakening is pivotal. Geographically positioned at the crossroads of South, Central, and West Asia, Islamabad can act as a natural bridge for trade and energy corridors.

Reframing its regional engagement from security-centric to economic-centric diplomacy could reposition Pakistan as a constructive stakeholder in regional stability.

Advocating connectivity rather than confrontation would strengthen its diplomatic leverage and economic prospects simultaneously.

Ultimately, SAARC’s revival depends on political will — not from external actors but from within South Asia itself. The logic is simple: collective prosperity is indivisible.

Competing regional architectures cannot substitute for the historical, cultural, and economic interdependence that binds SAARC members.

By re-energizing this sleeping might, South Asia can finally transition from a region of unrealized potential to one of shared progress.

The moment calls for leadership that recognizes cooperation as power, not concession. SAARC’s awakening will not occur overnight, but without the first deliberate steps, South Asia risks remaining a fragmented geography rather than a united economic community.

Have All Abandoned Hamas?

The question of whether Hamas has been completely abandoned by its allies deserves a nuanced answer. While the militant-political organization is under unprecedented isolation and financial strain, it has not been left entirely friendless. What has changed is not the existence of support, but the depth and nature of it. The few remaining backers are more pragmatic and cautious than ideological.

Iran remains the most steadfast supporter of Hamas, but even Tehran’s approach has shifted from enthusiasm to calculation. The Islamic Republic continues to provide limited training, intelligence, and weapons through its network that includes Hezbollah and the IRGC. Yet, Hamas no longer occupies the central role it once did in Iran’s “Axis of Resistance.” Tehran’s strategic priority today is containing Israel through Hezbollah in Lebanon and maintaining deterrence in Syria and Iraq. In that equation, Hamas has become an auxiliary, not a frontline force.

Qatar, long seen as Hamas’s financial lifeline, has also recalibrated its policy. The unmonitored cash deliveries to Gaza that sustained Hamas’s governance structure are now being rerouted through the United Nations and humanitarian agencies. Doha seeks to retain its role as a mediator rather than an outright patron. That shift leaves Hamas with a smaller and more conditional stream of funds — insufficient to maintain administrative control in a war-torn enclave.

Turkey’s support, meanwhile, has settled into the realm of rhetoric. President Erdoğan continues to speak forcefully for Palestinian rights, but Ankara avoids concrete steps that could jeopardize its economic and diplomatic relations with the West. Turkey’s relationship with Hamas has become largely symbolic — a political shield rather than a material one.

Across the Arab world, the mood has changed dramatically. Egypt views Hamas as a destabilizing factor on its Sinai frontier; Jordan and the Gulf monarchies see it as a residue of the Muslim Brotherhood; and Saudi Arabia, pursuing strategic normalization with Israel, has little appetite for association. The UAE, a key Arab power, treats Hamas as a security threat rather than a liberation movement. This new regional consensus marks a profound isolation for the group.

Yet, Hamas is not entirely defeated. It continues to command thousands of fighters, retains limited weapons stockpiles, and still projects control over parts of Gaza. More importantly, popular sympathy for the Palestinian cause across the Muslim world remains deeply rooted. But sympathy does not translate into resources. Without substantial state sponsorship, Hamas is now sustained mainly by resilience, underground networks, and a sense of defiance rather than structured external support.

In essence, Hamas stands at a crossroads. Its godfathers have not fully abandoned it, but their backing has turned conditional and cautious. The movement survives, but in a diminished, more isolated form — powerful enough to persist, yet too constrained to dominate. The age of ideological patronage is ending; what remains is a movement fighting for relevance amid the ruins it once ruled.

 

Why SAARC Lost Its Way?

When the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) was established in 1985, it represented a rare regional consensus in a politically fragmented subcontinent. The founding declaration emphasized collective self-reliance, mutual assistance, and the pursuit of shared prosperity. For a region holding nearly one-fourth of humanity, the potential was extraordinary. Yet, after four decades, SAARC stands largely dormant — a victim of geopolitical rivalry and institutional inertia rather than structural failure.

SAARC’s vision was ambitious but achievable: foster economic, social, and cultural cooperation to enhance the quality of life in member states. However, the trajectory of the organization was quickly derailed by the deep-rooted political mistrust between India and Pakistan. The unresolved Kashmir dispute, periodic border tensions, and competing security narratives transformed the platform into a casualty of bilateral hostility. Since the 2014 Kathmandu Summit, SAARC’s high-level meetings have been suspended indefinitely, leaving the secretariat in Kathmandu underutilized and politically irrelevant.

The cost of this dormancy has been immense. Intra-regional trade among SAARC members remains below 6 percent of total trade — the lowest for any comparable regional bloc. Transport corridors, energy-sharing projects, and digital connectivity initiatives have been stalled. The absence of a collective policy voice has left South Asia peripheral in major global economic and climate negotiations.

Comparatively, ASEAN and the European Union began with modest frameworks centered on trade facilitation and economic complementarity, eventually evolving into influential regional institutions. Their success was not rooted in political harmony but in the understanding that economic interdependence can temper political rivalry. SAARC, unfortunately, allowed politics to precede economics, forfeiting the very logic that drives successful regionalism.

The failure to institutionalize decision-making has also weakened SAARC’s resilience. The Secretariat operates with limited resources and minimal authority. Summits and ministerial meetings, which should function as policy engines, have instead become arenas for diplomatic signaling. Moreover, the proliferation of alternative regional frameworks — notably BIMSTEC and the Shanghai Cooperation Organization — reflects the shifting preferences of member states toward arrangements perceived as more functional or geopolitically advantageous.

Yet, it would be incorrect to describe SAARC as obsolete. The organization retains a symbolic and functional foundation that can be reactivated. Its network of specialized bodies in agriculture, environment, health, and disaster management continues to operate, albeit at suboptimal capacity. More importantly, the shared challenges of climate vulnerability, energy security, and regional inequality demand precisely the kind of coordinated response that only a platform like SAARC can provide.

The need is not to abandon SAARC but to reimagine it — as a mechanism of pragmatic regionalism rather than political posturing. The first step toward revival is to acknowledge why it failed: not because its goals were unrealistic, but because national egos overshadowed collective rationality. South Asia’s sleeping might remain potent; it only awaits political maturity to awaken.

An Update on New York City Mayoral Race 2025

The 2025 New York City mayoral race has emerged as a defining moment for the city’s political direction, with Zohran Mamdani now widely viewed as the frontrunner. The general election is scheduled for November 04, 2025, and will decide whether the city embraces a progressive shift or returns to centrist leadership.

Zohran Mamdani, a 33-year-old Democratic state assemblyman from Queens, represents a new generation of progressive voices in New York politics. Born in Uganda to Indian parents and raised in New York, Mamdani has built his career around social equity, immigrant rights, and economic justice. Identifying as a democratic socialist, he defeated former governor Andrew Cuomo in the Democratic primary held on June 24, 2025 — a result that shocked political observers and reshaped expectations for the general election.

Mamdani’s campaign focuses on affordable housing through rent regulation and public investment, reforming the NYPD’s oversight and budget, and addressing widening income disparities. His movement has drawn strong backing from younger voters, immigrant communities, and progressive groups, setting him apart from Cuomo, who is now contesting as an independent candidate appealing to moderates and centrist Democrats. Republican Curtis Sliwa remains a distant third.

Recent Emerson College and Quinnipiac University polls show Mamdani leading with 43–46 percent support, followed by Cuomo with 28–33 percent and Sliwa with 10–15 percent. With housing affordability and public safety dominating debate, Mamdani’s rise reflects both the city’s frustrations and its yearning for generational change.

Bridging the Divide: Pakistan and Taliban Need Dialogue, Not Confrontation

The relationship between Pakistan’s ruling regime and the Taliban stands at a delicate crossroads. Bound by geography, faith, and shared history, the two sides also carry layers of mistrust accumulated over decades of shifting alliances and conflicting expectations. In recent years, political statements, security operations, and media narratives have widened this gap further. Yet, beneath the surface lies an undeniable truth — their destinies remain intertwined. To stabilize the region, both must replace suspicion with structured dialogue, and confrontation with cooperation. Military responses may suppress symptoms, but only intellectual engagement can address the root causes of misunderstanding.

The first major misunderstanding arises from security concerns. Pakistan’s authorities often believe that the Taliban have not taken adequate measures against elements of Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), who continue to operate from Afghan territory. On the other hand, the Taliban view Pakistan’s cross-border operations and frequent border closures as violations of Afghan sovereignty. Both sides see each other’s actions through a defensive lens. A structured security dialogue — focusing on intelligence coordination, cross-border communication, and non-interference — can help bridge these perceptions and restore mutual confidence.

The second area of friction involves economic and trade relations. The Taliban leadership frequently accuses Pakistan of using trade controls as leverage, while Pakistan expresses concern over smuggling, informal trade routes, and foreign currency outflows. These differences have converted economic engagement into a tool of pressure rather than cooperation. A transparent, rules-based mechanism for transit trade and financial transactions could turn the economic relationship into a stabilizing force. When trade and transport flow smoothly, political tensions tend to ease naturally.

The third and perhaps most sensitive dimension is ideological understanding. Many in Pakistan interpret the Taliban’s policies solely through a security framework, while the Taliban often perceive Pakistan’s government as too close to Western interests. These views overlook the nuanced realities on both sides. Constructive academic and religious exchanges, involving scholars and opinion leaders, could help generate trust and empathy. Mutual respect for each side’s national priorities is essential for regional harmony.

Peace cannot be dictated by military power or external persuasion; it must evolve from within the region itself. Pakistan and the Taliban must recognize that lasting stability demands open communication, patience, and political maturity. Excluding foreign influences and engaging in honest dialogue will help transform mutual suspicion into cooperation. The region has paid too high a price for conflict — it is time to invest in understanding. Dialogue, not deterrence, is the true foundation of peace between Pakistan and the Taliban.

 

US War on Drugs or Control of Trade?

The United States has long waged wars with shifting names — “War on Terror,” “War on Drugs,” “War for Freedom.” Yet, behind every noble slogan lies a trail of power politics. The latest episode — dispatching an aircraft carrier to intercept drug boats — sounds more like a geopolitical maneuver than a humanitarian mission.

The US has once again deployed an aircraft carrier — not to confront a rival navy, but to chase down drug smugglers. The declared mission is to curb narcotics trafficking, yet the use of such massive military hardware for a policing task invites skepticism. Why send a carrier strike group — costing billions — to do what coast guards and drug enforcement units are meant to handle?

When Washington turns a military operation into a “war on drugs,” it often signals a wider agenda. The US Navy’s global reach conveniently allows it to assert presence in any region — from the Caribbean to the Pacific — under the noble banner of counter-narcotics. What appears to be law enforcement frequently doubles as strategic positioning. In a world where power projection is wrapped in moral language, fighting drug traffickers becomes a useful excuse for extending surveillance and influence.

There’s also a darker interpretation that refuses to fade. Could these “anti-drug” operations actually be a cover for controlling the lucrative narcotics trade itself? History does not absolve Washington. The Iran-Contra affair and recurring allegations of CIA-linked drug networks in Central America showed how the lines between enforcement and exploitation can blur. When tons of seized drugs disappear from transparency and accountability, suspicion fills the vacuum.

The global drug economy, valued at over half a trillion dollars annually, offers enormous leverage to whoever controls its routes and flows. By interdicting shipments, deciding which networks survive, and which are dismantled, the US effectively regulates the trade — if not overtly, then subtly.

The aircraft carrier, in this context, is not just chasing smugglers — it is asserting dominance. Washington’s “war on drugs” has become a convenient façade for strategic reach. After all, in America’s global playbook, every mission — even one draped in moral intent — is ultimately about control. In this war, purity may just be another commodity.