UN’s Vance expresses strong optimism Gaza ceasefire will hold

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October 21, 2025

'Great optimism' Gaza ceasefire will hold, says Vance — JD Vance said the implementation of the ceasefire would require 'constant monitoring and supervision'

On the Tarmac in Kiryat Gat: Cautious Optimism Meets the Smell of Dust and Burnt Olive

When the US delegation’s plane touched down in southern Israel, the afternoon light turned the arid hills into a palette of ochres and rust. Cameras flashed; officials stepped down onto scarred concrete that still bears the faint black of past alarms. There was a ritual to the moment — handshakes, quick photo-ops, the polite choreography of diplomacy — but beneath the surface the mood was odd: hopeful, brittle, like thin glass warmed by sunlight.

“We can breathe for a day, a week,” I was told by Daniela, a schoolteacher from a nearby kibbutz whose brother served in the reserves. “But every siren ghosts through my dreams. Optimism here is cautious. It’s stitched together out of prayer and paperwork.”

US Vice President J.D. Vance arrived as part of a small, high-profile mission to supervise the fragile ceasefire in Gaza brokered by President Donald Trump. The message from Washington was upbeat. “We’re in a good place,” officials echoed — yet the language that trailed behind that optimism was almost bureaucratic in its insistence: the truce would need “constant monitoring and supervision,” a phrase that translates, in practical terms, to boots on the ground, nightly briefings, and an endless flow of intelligence and good will.

The Deal and the Doubts

The ceasefire — a fragile pause after a brutal two-year conflict — reads on paper as ambitious: phased withdrawals, a partial Israeli pullback beyond the so-called “Yellow Line,” and a roadmap for Gaza’s future. In practice, its seams are already visible.

Under the agreement, Israeli forces have repositioned beyond the Yellow Line, ostensibly relinquishing control of Gaza’s urban centers while retaining control of borders and key transit points. That arrangement leaves the strip fragmented: half under direct Israeli security oversight, half managed or demarcated otherwise. Critics warn this is less a withdrawal than a reconfiguration of control.

Numbers illuminate the human ledger. Hamas had pledged to hand back 28 bodies of people killed or presumed dead; to date 13 coffins have arrived in Israel. That leaves 15 still unaccounted for — a raw arithmetic of grief that keeps families awake. On the other side of the ledger, Gaza’s health authorities, operating amid rubble and power cuts, say 45 Palestinians were killed in recent strikes following a deadly clash in Rafah that claimed two Israeli soldiers.

Who’s Watching the Watchers?

The US says it will supervise compliance. Two of Mr. Trump’s envoys — Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner — are already in the country. Their presence aims to steady a deal that, only days after being agreed, faced fresh violence in southern Gaza. “We’ve come to make sure words become deeds,” one senior US diplomat told me in private, not wanting to be named. “But deeds are slippery when everyone is jittery.”

President Trump, speaking in terse, theatrical sentences, also reminded the world that the deal comes with teeth: he declared that regional allies had told him they would be ready to send forces into Gaza at his request. The promise — posted loudly on his social media channel — shifted the conversation instantly from fragile diplomacy to the specter of new boots in a dense, devastated territory.

Voices from the Ground: Fear, Resilience, and the Logistics of Grief

In Gaza, relief workers and family members move amid collapsed apartment blocks and schools converted into makeshift clinics. “We are exhausted,” said Omar, a 34-year-old ambulance driver in Gaza City whose hands were stained with dust and old bandages. “But when bodies are returned, we stop to breathe. Then the waiting begins again for the rest.”

At a crossing point, Israeli officials and Red Cross teams coordinated the handover of remains. The choreography felt both solemn and hurried — medics in hazmat suits, waiting vans, the slow, formal transfer of coffins wrapped in cloth. For the families on both sides, these logistical exchanges are intimate moments of closure tinged with new sorrow.

Echoing across capitals, Egyptian intelligence chief Hassan Rashad’s presence in Jerusalem and Qatar’s sharp message to Israel — warning of “continued violations” and describing Gaza as nearing unlivable conditions — shows how quickly the ceasefire’s fate became a regional concern. Hamas leaders in Cairo, meanwhile, are talking about the difficulties of retrieving bodies from amid the devastation, insisting they remain committed to the deal.

Analysts’ Take: Between Diplomacy and Retribution

Think tanks and crisis specialists watch this fragile pause like entomologists studying a rare insect — close, fascinated, fearful of startling it into disappearance. Analysts argue the situation is a classic balancing act: Washington is trying to shepherd an agreement that checks Israel’s short-term security demands while offering, in theory, a pathway to stabilize Gaza. Yet the rhetoric on all sides — threats of eradication, the promise of punitive force — undercuts the patient, tedious diplomacy needed to make the truce durable.

“This deal is a stopgap,” a Middle East analyst at an international NGO told me. “It buys time, but time without robust reconstruction, without guarantees for movement of aid and people, will snap back to violence.”

Ceasefire brokered after two years of fighting; implementation supervised by US-led team.
13 of 28 bodies pledged by Hamas have been returned; 15 remain outstanding.
Recent Rafah incident reportedly killed two Israeli soldiers; subsequent strikes in Gaza killed some 45 Palestinians, per local health officials.
Israel has withdrawn beyond the “Yellow Line” but retains control over borders and about half of Gaza.

More Than Maps: The Human Geography of Uncertainty

Maps tell one story. People tell another. In a café outside Kiryat Gat, an elderly man who survived earlier rounds of conflict laughed a small, dry laugh when I asked how long this truce might last.

“You grow up learning how to live between alarms,” he said. “We plant lemon trees. You learn to water them between shelling and sirens. Hope becomes a practical thing—water, light, food. You schedule your life around small mercies.”

Across the border, families in Gaza measure hope differently. A mother who had just received news of remains returned to Israel stood quietly with her hands pressed to her mouth. “They tell us they will try to find our sons,” she said. “But the roads are rubble. The hospitals are tired. We need more than words.”

What Comes Next?

When you step back from the immediate choreography — the plane arrivals, the press conferences, the rapid-fire social media proclamations — what remains is a question for everyone, not just diplomats: can a ceasefire be more than a pause between battles? Can it become the scaffold for rebuilding trust, infrastructure, and dignity?

That will require not just monitoring teams and stern warnings, but sustained aid, transparent verification, and political will from a region exhausted by cycles of revenge. It will require a willingness to confront the unsettling truth voiced by critics of the deal: that a ceasefire without reconstruction and justice risks becoming merely a lull before the next storm.

So ask yourself, as you read this from wherever you are in the world: what responsibility do distant capitals and global citizens hold when an agreement keeps bodies waiting in the sand and families counting the unreturned? The answers are messy, international, and deeply human. And for now, they remain very much in play.

Kaja Kallas labels possible Putin visit to Hungary ‘unwelcome’

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hanad

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October 21, 2025

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Kallas says possible Putin visit to Hungary 'not nice' — Kaja Kallas said it ws important for Volodymyr Zelenskiy to meet Vladimir Putin

When Two Superpowers Meet in the Shadow of the Danube

Imagine Budapest at dusk: trams clattering past cafés, the river reflecting the spires of St. Stephen’s Basilica, and a city that feels at once ancient and unnervingly present. Now imagine that same city becoming, possibly, the stage for a meeting between two of the most polarising leaders of our age. It is the sort of geopolitical theater that turns heads and quickens pulses from Dublin to Delhi.

That possibility—of a summit between Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump on the soil of a European Union member state—has sent ripples through Brussels and across the continent. For many Europeans, the prospect reads like an ethical and diplomatic paradox: a place famous for classical music and paprika suddenly considered neutral ground for talks about a war that has scarred an entire region.

Diplomacy, Discomfort, and the Question of Legitimacy

At the heart of the unease is a legal and moral problem. The International Criminal Court has issued an arrest warrant for President Putin, a fact that complicates any warm welcome he might receive in an EU capital. “We cannot treat this as business as usual,” says a senior EU diplomat who asked not to be named. “There are legal obligations and moral responsibilities. Hosting a person under an ICC warrant in a European capital would be unprecedented and deeply controversial.”

Yet diplomacy rarely conforms to tidy moral binaries. For some, the allure of a ceasefire—even a fragile one—is worth confronting uncomfortable optics. Others worry that the optics will eclipse outcomes. “If a meeting brings concrete progress that saves lives, then it’s worth considering,” an international peace researcher commented, “but meetings for the sake of headlines are dangerous.”

Voices from the Street

Walk away from the ornate façades and into a neighbourhood café and you will hear the debate in microcosm. “If it helps stop the shelling, fine,” says Ágnes, a teacher, stirring her black coffee. “But we cannot pretend accountability vanishes when it’s convenient.”

At a nearby market, István, who runs a stall selling pickled peppers, offered a different tone. “People are tired,” he says. “We want peace, but real peace. You can’t build trust by ignoring crimes.”

These voices echo broader public anxieties—an uneasy balance between the desire for an end to violence and the need for justice and collective moral clarity.

What Would Be On the Table?

Reportedly, US diplomatic overtures aim to bring Russia back to the negotiation table, a role Washington has historically played with varying success. The US president has publicly expressed intentions to meet Mr Putin, and those efforts have been welcomed in some quarters—so long as Ukraine and European allies have a meaningful seat at any discussion about the future of the region.

“If the fate of a sovereign country is at stake, the sovereign must sit at the table,” says a former European minister. “If continental security is under discussion, Europeans should not be spectators.”

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy has signalled conditional openness: willing to engage if formats include trilateral talks or shuttle diplomacy that ensure Kyiv’s concerns are central. Behind the scenes, reports suggest tense bilateral meetings in recent days, with American and Ukrainian leaders navigating difficult trade-offs. Some briefings even suggest pressure was applied on Kyiv to consider territorial concessions—an idea that has alarmed many Western diplomats.

Law, Sanctions, and the Long View

The legal cloud over any Putin travel is not merely theatrical. The ICC’s warrant—issued over alleged war crimes—raises questions about immunity and state responsibility. One legal scholar notes, “A capital that hosts such a visit risks being complicit in undermining international criminal norms, especially if that country has signalled steps to withdraw from the Rome Statute.”

Indeed, Hungary’s recent moves regarding the ICC have fuelled debate. Critics argue that withdrawing from—or weakening ties with—international justice mechanisms to accommodate a guest sets a dangerous precedent. Supporters counter that such steps are sovereign decisions and should not derail efforts to stop the violence.

Meanwhile, sanctions remain a central instrument of EU policy. Officials have been preparing a new, 19th package of measures aimed at increasing pressure on Moscow. “Sanctions are blunt instruments, but they can constrain resources and choices,” one sanctions expert noted. Still, enforcement and unity across 27 member states are challenging—especially when economic and energy dependencies linger.

Weapons, Energy, and the Race for Security

On the battlefield side, Kyiv has been aggressively seeking air-defence systems to blunt aerial attacks. The procurement of Patriot missile systems—25 units reportedly being discussed—would represent a substantial boost to Ukraine’s ability to intercept ballistic missiles and protect cities and critical infrastructure. “Patriots are among the most capable systems for high-speed threats,” says a defence analyst. “They change the calculus of air defence.”

Energy policy also looms large. The EU has agreed—collectively—to phase out remaining gas imports from Russia by the end of 2027, part of a broader push to reduce dependency and accelerate green transitions. This shift is not just geopolitical; it is economic and social. Citizens in Germany, Italy, and across the bloc are learning that energy choices have consequences for household bills, industrial production, and long-term strategic autonomy.

Questions for the Reader—and for the Future

Where do your sympathies lie? Is the pursuit of an immediate halt to bloodshed worth engaging with leaders who are accused of atrocities? Or does justice require that diplomacy wait until accountability mechanisms have had their say?

These are not hypothetical academic questions. They determine whether a ceasefire could save lives tomorrow, or whether it could entrench impunity for years to come.

As citizens, we should ask: What does legitimacy look like in a world where legal institutions, popular opinion, and geopolitical interests collide? And how do democracies reconcile the urgent need to protect civilians with the equally urgent need to uphold international law?

Final Notes from Budapest

Back in the cafés and tram stops of Budapest, conversations continue—sometimes angry, sometimes weary, often sorrowful. A busker plays a slow, familiar folk tune by the river, and for a moment the city’s long history of negotiating empires, ideologies, and borders feels poignantly present.

Whatever unfolds, the coming days and weeks will test the durability of European unity, the resilience of international law, and the capacity of diplomacy to do more than stage-manage crises. The world will be watching—not just for whether leaders meet, but for what they do when they do. Will they salvage peace? Or will a photograph of them shaking hands become merely another image in a long, tragic archive?

France ramps up manhunt for suspects in Louvre theft

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hanad

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October 21, 2025

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France intensifies hunt for Louvre thieves — The world-famous art museum remained closed following Sunday's robbery

Flowers, Footsteps and Fallen Diamonds: A Morning at the Louvre That Felt Like a Scene from a Heist Film

Paris on a late-spring morning: croissant steam curling into a pale sky, the glass pyramid gleaming like an invitation, and tourists—hoping for a brush with La Joconde—lined up beneath the Louvre’s classical arches. Then, in the span of a single breath, the museum’s centuries of security protocols were pierced, not by a cunning sleight of hand or inside job, but by a brazen, daylight raid that lasted seven minutes and felt, to many who watched, like a scandalous scene from a thriller.

It was about 9:30 a.m. when four masked figures arrived with a truck whose extendable ladder might have been mistaken for moving-day hardware. They scaled the façade beneath the Apollo Gallery, cut through a window and made off with nine pieces of jewellery from the museum’s crown jewels collection. Some of those treasures are not just glittering items of personal adornment; they are stitched into the narrative of France—gifts from emperors to empresses, coronation diadems, and necklaces that once traced the necklines of monarchs.

Two-thousand people, seven minutes, a scattered crown

By the time alarms had fully rung out and museum staff marshalled visitors to safety, roughly 2,000 people had been evacuated. The thieves fled on scooters, disappearing into Paris’ labyrinth of boulevards and alleys. In their haste, they dropped the crown of Empress Eugénie—an object encrusted with 1,354 diamonds and 56 emeralds—on the pavement. The crown survived the tumble but was damaged; the thieves escaped with eight other items, including an emerald-and-diamond necklace from Napoleon I and a diadem studded with nearly 2,000 diamonds.

“The audacity of breaking in through a window in broad daylight—it leaves you with this hollow feeling,” said Carol Fuchs, an American visitor who had been waiting in the queue for nearly an hour. “Will they ever be recovered? I doubt it.” Across the courtyard, another tourist, Jesslyn Ehlers, spoke for many: “We planned this for so long. To see the museum closed… it’s heartbreaking.”

Investigators, footwork, and footage

Within hours, the hunt was on. France’s interior ministry confirmed that some 60 investigators were assigned to the case, following a working theory that an organized team was behind the raid. Police sifted through surveillance tapes—from inside the museum and across the main highways out of the city—piecing together a route that vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“There are a lot of videos and this is one of the investigators’ lines of work,” said Interior Minister Laurent Nunez, underlining the sheer volume of digital evidence the teams face. Analysts combed feeds for scooter trajectories, license plates, and faces—tiny threads that could unravel a wider network.

Security questions: an elephant in the gallery

If the images traumatized visitors, the questions they raised angered officials. Justice Minister Gérald Darmanin did not mince words: “What is certain is that we have failed,” he told France Inter, citing not only the spectacle of the theft but the shocking ease with which the thieves set up a furniture hoist in central Paris and scaled the building. The political fallout was immediate; ministers ordered better protection around cultural sites.

A recent report by France’s Court of Auditors, covering the years 2019–2024, had already flagged a “persistent” delay in security upgrades at the Louvre, noting that video surveillance covered only a quarter of one wing. In a museum visited by millions—9.6 million people crowded the galleries in 2018, the last pre-pandemic high-water mark—such gaps feel less like oversights and more like systemic vulnerability.

The jewels: more than metal and stone

These items are historically laden. The necklace Napoleon I gave to Empress Marie-Louise, the diadem of Empress Eugénie, the necklace belonging to Marie-Amélie, the last queen of France—these are objects that carry stories, power, and identity. Alexandre Giquello, president of auction house Drouot, told me the theft will not simply feed the glittering fantasy of art thieves: in their current state, these objects are near-impossible to sell through legitimate channels. “Their histories and provenance make them radioactive on the market,” he said. “Someone can strip the stones, but then you have untraceable gems divorced from context.”

And yet, the prospects of resale or fragmentation into the black market remain unsettling. Diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds can be recut, repurposed or laundered through illicit routes. The physical crown—dropped and damaged in the escape—may recover its form in a conservator’s hands. Its provenance, however, is harder to piece back together if the jewels themselves are dispersed.

Pattern or anomaly? Museums under pressure

This was the Louvre’s first theft since 1998, when a Corot painting vanished. But it is not an isolated blip in France’s cultural landscape. Last month, thieves slipped into the Natural History Museum in Paris and made off with gold samples valued at €601,650. Earlier this year, two dishes and a vase disappeared from a museum in Limoges—losses estimated at €6.5 million. These incidents point to a trend: cultural institutions are increasingly seen as targets, and many operate with security resources that lag behind their diplomatic and touristic stature.

“Museums are soft targets because they are open to the public, and that’s their mission,” said Dr. Amira Salah, a cultural heritage security expert based in Marseille. “Balancing accessibility with protection is complex, and it’s made harder by budgetary constraints and old infrastructure.”

What this means for visitors and cities

There’s an emotional toll too. For those who travel to Paris aspiring to witness the Mona Lisa, or to stand by the Venus de Milo, the idea that a museum can be breached so publicly is disorienting. For the city, it’s reputational. Tourism remains the lifeblood of Parisian neighborhoods—cafés, guides, small shops depend on the steady choreography of arrivals and departures. When the rituals of visiting, ticketing and security are disrupted, so too are lives and livelihoods.

“I’m a guide,” said Mathieu, a local who declined to give his last name. “People plan entire trips around the Louvre. When it closes, it isn’t just about art; it’s about jobs. It’s about stories we tell visitors about our history.”

Beyond the headlines: a question for readers

So where does this leave us? The spectacle of a crown trampled on a Parisian pavement is a single image that opens richer questions: What is the value of cultural heritage? How do we protect shared patrimony in an era of organized crime and digital surveillance? And how much should we sacrifice of openness to preserve what makes museums public?

If you could walk the galleries tomorrow, would you still go? Would you feel the same reverence, or a new unease knowing how fragile the protections can be? Museums, after all, are living spaces—where past and present meet. They must be safe without becoming fortresses.

Closing notes

As investigators continue to pore over hours of footage and traces left behind, the Louvre may reopen its doors, but the day’s images will linger: a crown on cobblestones, scooters melting into the city, a line of disappointed visitors rewinding their plans. Officials promise reforms; conservators and security experts will debate measures. Paris will bustle again, as it always does—cafés will refill, cameras will click—but for a while, there will be a sharper edge to the air near the museum’s pyramid. The jewels are part of France’s story. Their loss, or their return, will tell us something not just about thieves and the market, but about where we stand on protecting the things we inherit.

Todobo Shabaab ah oo lagu dilay duqeyn ka dhacday degmada Maxaas ee goblka Hiiraan

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October 21, 2025

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Nov 21(Jowhar)-Ciidanka Hay’adda Sirdoonka iyo Nabadsugidda Qaranka (NISA) oo kaashanaya saaxiibada caalamka ayaa xalay howlgal qorshaysan ka fuliyay deegaanka Kuukaayle oo hoostaga degmada Maxaas ee Gobolka Hiiraan, kaas oo lagu beegsaday goobo ay gabbaad ka dhiganayeen maleeshiyaadka Khawaarijta.

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European leaders endorse Trump’s call for Ukraine ceasefire

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hanad

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October 21, 2025

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European leaders back Trump's Ukraine ceasefire position — Russia launched a full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022

Across Borders, a Pause—or a Prelude? Europe Backs a Fragile Push to Stop the Guns

There are days when diplomacy sounds like an orchestra tuning up: discordant, hopeful, and full of possibility. This week’s score came as a terse, carefully worded joint statement from Britain, France, Germany, Ukraine and the European Union — a chorus of capitals throwing their weight behind a U.S.-led effort to halt the fighting and open negotiation channels with Russia.

“We strongly support…that the fighting should stop immediately, and that the current line of contact should be the starting point of negotiations,” read the British government’s summary of the statement, which caught the attention of diplomats and citizens alike. It was as much a plea as a directive: stop, talk, and let the map as it is today frame future conversations.

What Was Said — And What Wasn’t

The language of the joint declaration was politically calibrated. Leaders urged a sustained squeeze on Moscow’s economy and its defence industry until Vladimir Putin, they said, was ready to engage in bona fide peace talks.

“We must ramp up the pressure on Russia’s economy and its defence industry, until Putin is ready to make peace,” the statement read. “We are developing measures to use the full value of Russia’s immobilised sovereign assets so that Ukraine has the resources it needs.”

That last line—about immobilised assets—has particular weight. Since the conflict intensified, Western governments and international institutions have frozen or restricted access to significant portions of Russia’s foreign reserves. Officials say one aim now is to channel some of that frozen capital toward reconstruction and humanitarian needs in Ukraine, though legal, logistical and diplomatic hurdles remain.

A Conversation, Not Yet a Meeting

On paper, the next steps sounded simple: meetings between foreign ministers, an opening of direct lines of communication, and then serious talks. In practice, as one senior Russian diplomat told the state news agency, it was “premature to speak about the timing” of any face-to-face.

From Moscow’s side, officials described recent phone contacts as “constructive.” Russian Deputy Foreign Minister Sergei Ryabkov, reflecting on conversations his ministry said took place between his boss and U.S. counterparts, told reporters that Russia was “working on the points discussed” and had not yet set dates for more formal encounters.

Yet the U.S. response, while formally polite, did not mirror the rosy adjective. “The secretary emphasised the importance of upcoming engagements as an opportunity for Moscow and Washington to collaborate on advancing a durable resolution of the war, in line with President Trump’s vision,” said a U.S. State Department deputy spokesperson. He stopped short of describing the talks as constructive, instead framing them as a potential opening.

Reading the Signals

Diplomacy is often a game of signals. To foreign ministries, the difference between “constructive” and “an opportunity” is not semantics—it is a measure of trust. On the streets of Kyiv and in the cafés of Paris and Berlin, ordinary people parsed the wording with anxious hope.

“Every time they say ‘stop’ we breathe for a moment,” said Oksana, a high school teacher in Kyiv who declined to give her full name for privacy. “But if the guns stop and the borders on paper don’t reflect our losses or safety, then our children will still be at risk. We need real guarantees.”

In London, a retired diplomat watching the developments on television sighed. “Statements matter. They commit public will. But statements without timelines or enforcement are like poetry—beautiful but not legally binding,” he said. “The draft here is promising, but we’ve seen promising before.”

Local Scenes: Markets, Memory, and the Human Count

Walk through any Ukrainian market and the arithmetic of conflict becomes intimate. Vendors move between stalls piled with apples, jars of pickled vegetables and bouquets of late-season flowers; each sale is a small defiance. Yet the human toll is measured in lives uprooted and in the quieter statistics of disrupted schooling and shuttered businesses.

UN agencies estimate that well over eight million Ukrainians have fled the country since the initial escalation, and millions more remain internally displaced. Hospitals report shortages of specialist equipment in some regions. Reconstruction needs, long before any peace deal, loom large—building roofs, schools, and hospitals will be an enormous undertaking that Western leaders referenced when they spoke about using immobilised assets to help Ukraine.

Sanctions, Assets, and the New Economics of War

Sanctions have been the financial equivalent of trench warfare: attritional, slow, and designed to produce long-term pain for the Russian economy. Targeted measures have hit banks, defence suppliers, and individual officials, while access to central bank reserves has been restricted in unprecedented ways. The joint statement’s pledge to “use the full value” of frozen sovereign assets signals a political appetite to convert frozen reserves into tangible support for Ukraine—if legal and technical teams can make it happen.

Experts warn that such a conversion is fraught. “There’s a labyrinth of international law, creditor rights and domestic court systems,” said Dr. Lina Andersson, an analyst who studies sanctions regimes. “You can declare political will, but instruments and precedents are limited. There are also concerns about setting a precedent that might later be used against other states.”

What Could Break the Silence—or Deepen It?

The question now is not simply whether talks will happen, but what form they will take. Will Russia accept the current line of contact as a negotiating anchor? Will any temporary ceasefire include guarantees that survive the fragile days after guns fall silent? And critically, will Ukraine’s sovereignty and territorial integrity be preserved in any bargain?

For many Ukrainians, negotiations that start from the status quo are both a pragmatic and a painful proposition. Pragmatic because it could stop the immediate suffering; painful because status quos can ossify into grudges and frozen losses.

“If we are to be brave,” said Anna, a nurse in Kharkiv, “then be brave to demand a peace that restores safety. Not peace that just shifts the weight of fear into another shape.”

Global Ripples

What happens next will echo far from Eastern Europe. Nations watching this conflict—some with fraught relations of their own—will take notes on whether sanctions work, whether frozen assets can be repurposed, and whether a crowded chorus of European capitals can, at times, speak with one voice.

And for citizens around the world, the moral calculus is plain: do we demand swift cessation of violence, potentially accepting an imperfect map, or do we press for longer-term justice at the risk of continued suffering in the short term? There is no easy answer.

Where Do We Go From Here?

Diplomacy is rarely linear. It bends and snaps, again and again, but sometimes it yields. The recent joint statement is a squeeze of the baton, a signal that Europe and the United States want to see movement—economic pressure paired with an offer to negotiate.

Will it be enough to coax a durable peace out of smoke and rubble? Or will it be another false dawn, bright and brief? Only time, and the choices of leaders and citizens on all sides, will tell.

What would you do if you were in the room when the map was being redrawn? How much compromise is worth immediate safety? Think about those questions the next time a headline promises “progress.” The people living through these decisions are asking them every day.

Gudoomiye Mursal iyo xildhibaano la socday oo loo diiday iney u safraan Baydbao iyo xiisad taagan

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October 21, 2025

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Nov 21(Jowhar)-Gudoomiyihii hore ee golaha shacabka Maxamed Mursal iyo wafdi xildhibaano ah uu hoggaaminayay ayaa maanta laga hor-istaagay safar ah doonayeen iney ku tagaan magaalada Baydhabo.

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Trump oo wacad ku maray inuu cirib tiri doono Xamaas

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October 21, 2025

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Nov 21(Jowhar)-Madaxweynaha Maraykanka Donald Trump ayaa sheegay inuu cirib tiri doono kooxda Xamaas haddii ay jebiyaan heshiiska cusub ee la xiriira marinka Qaza.

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Andrew Steps Back From Title, Says It’s ‘Right Course of Action’

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hanad

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October 21, 2025

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Andrew stepping back from title 'right course of action' — Prince Andrew, the younger brother of King Charles, said last week he would no longer use his Duke of York title among others (file pic)

When a Title No Longer Fits: The Quiet Unraveling of a Royal Role

On a damp afternoon in central London, the golden enamel of a tourist brochure seemed askew in my hands—a small, ordinary image of pomp and permanence that suddenly felt fragile. For decades the British monarchy has offered a steady set of rituals: parades, charities, a tidy roster of dukes and duchesses. But last week a seam came undone, and what was once taken for granted now looks like an act of damage control.

Prince Andrew, the younger brother of King Charles, has stepped away from using his Duke of York title. It was, by all accounts, a quiet abdication of sorts—not of his princely status, which remains intact, but of a public-facing role that the family had cultivated for generations. The move followed intense scrutiny over his association with the late Jeffrey Epstein and a fresh wave of allegations that have reignited a very modern conversation about power, privilege and accountability.

Police Inquiries and a Posthumous Memoir

Just a day after police disclosed that they were examining claims Andrew sought the help of an officer to discredit a woman who accused him of sexual abuse, the prince announced he would no longer use the Duke of York title. The timing of the announcement—days before the publication of a posthumous memoir by Virginia Giuffre, one of Epstein’s most prominent accusers—gave the gesture the feel of pre-emptive withdrawal.

In Nobody’s Girl, obtained by broadcasters ahead of its release, Giuffre describes harrowing fears of being trapped under Epstein’s control and details encounters she alleges involved Andrew. The memoir includes disputed claims about her age when they first met and about meetings in London, New York, and on Epstein’s private island. Giuffre, who reached a civil settlement in 2022 with Andrew, is understood to have died at her farm in Western Australia. Her death—reported as suicide—has added a layer of sorrow and urgency to the unfolding story.

Government Reaction and Royal Responsibility

Across the floor from Buckingham Palace, voices in the British government were measured but unequivocal. Bridget Phillipson, the education minister and a senior member of Parliament, told Sky News that the decision by the royal family and Prince Andrew was “the right course of action.”

“We agree and support the decision that the royal family and Prince Andrew have taken,” she said, adding that questions about revoking his princely title were a matter for the family itself rather than the government. Her words captured the constitutional tightrope Britain faces: the state steers policy, but the monarchy governs tradition.

“There is a separation,” one constitutional scholar I spoke with noted. “The Crown and its household have autonomy over titles and patronages. Politicians can express moral judgments, but stripping a prince of his dignity is ultimately an internal royal calculus.”

The Personal and the Political: How Scandal Reshapes Institutions

Scandals have a persistent way of forcing institutions to reconcile image with reality. For the royal family, which trades in symbolism and trust, each controversy chips away at the currency that makes it influential beyond ceremonial duties. Public confidence in institutions around the world has been in flux for years; Britain is no exception. Polling since 2019 has shown fluctuations in support for the monarchy, especially following episodes that highlight inequality or secrecy.

To some, Andrew’s step back is overdue. “It’s like watching a beloved building finally get boarded up because the roof keeps leaking,” said Hannah Reed, a York resident who has followed royal news since childhood. “It hurts to see, but maybe it’s the only way to prevent more damage.”

To others, the restraint is insufficient. Critics say withdrawing a title is a symbolic gesture that lacks the harder commitments of transparency and accountability. “Titles, patronages, official roles—those are the levers,” argued Dr. Marcus Levine, an expert on public ethics. “Removing them is a start. Making meaningful, structural changes to how the royal household responds to allegations is the real test.”

Shadows of Espionage and Old Friendships

Complicating the narrative is a ruling from a British court last year that suggested one of Andrew’s close business associates was believed by the British government to be a Chinese spy. Andrew said then that he had ceased contact with that businessman. It is a reminder that the private lives of public figures can have national security implications—especially when international friendships intersect with diplomatic sensitivities.

“Few of us live entirely private lives at that scale,” observed Anna Holt, a former diplomat. “The mistakes of a privileged few can morph quickly from personal misjudgment to geopolitical embarrassment.”

Human Stories, Global Questions

Behind the headlines are real people: survivors seeking recognition, family members mourning, staffers whose jobs transform overnight, and communities left to reconcile the image of a figure once celebrated. In Western Australia, where Giuffre lived and where she died, neighbors described a person who had sought refuge and, by some accounts, tried to build a quieter life away from the glare.

“She seemed bookish,” one neighbor said. “You could see she’d been through things. There was this quiet resolve about her that made the news feel so cruel.”

There are wider strands woven into this single story: the global #MeToo movement’s insistence that powerful people be held accountable; the role of media in shaping public empathy; the legal and moral complexities of civil settlements versus criminal accountability. The Epstein case itself—his arrest, conviction in 2008, and death in 2019—has been a catalyst for conversations about trafficking, abuse, and the networks that enable them.

According to the World Health Organization, roughly one in three women globally have experienced intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence in their lifetimes. Numbers like that are blunt instruments, but they point to the scale of a problem that is both systemic and deeply personal.

Where Do We Go From Here?

For the royal family, the path forward requires a balance of dignity and accountability. For the public, it means deciding what they expect from figures who occupy ceremonial and moral authority. For survivors and the bereaved, it means seeking truth, justice, and care—difficult, sometimes unmet needs in the wake of trauma.

“This isn’t just about a title,” said Miriam Clarke, a counselor who works with survivors of sexual violence. “It’s about whether our institutions protect the vulnerable or shield the powerful. That question matters to everyone, not just those who follow royal gossip.”

As you read this, ask yourself: what do we want from public life? Do we accept symbolic measures, or do we demand systemic change? And how do societies balance mercy, accountability and the human cost of headlines?

The royal household has been contacted for comment. In the meantime, a title sits unused, a memoir has surfaced whose author is no longer alive to testify, and a country continues to wrestle with the messy intersection of privilege and power. The answers—if they come—will be less about silken sashes and more about the structures we build to keep people safe and institutions honest.

EU countries pledge to stop Russian gas imports by late 2027

By

hanad

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October 21, 2025

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EU states agree to end Russian gas imports by end of 2027 — The plan is part of a broader EU strategy to wean the bloc off Russian energy supplies

Europe’s Quiet Exit from Russia’s Gas: Deadlines, Dissent and a New Energy Map

There is a distinct kind of hush that follows big political shifts — not the hush of silence, but the soft settling of dust after something long in motion finally lands. In a cramped conference room in Luxembourg, Europe’s energy ministers nodded toward a future in which the continent’s dependency on Russian gas will be, in theory, a historical footnote.

Under a plan approved by ministers meeting this week, the European Commission’s blueprint for severing both pipeline and liquefied natural gas (LNG) ties with Russia has cleared a major step. It still needs the European Parliament’s assent, but the message is unmistakable: Brussels wants Russian gas out of Europe in short order, and it has started to set dates and scaffolding to make it happen.

A deadline-laced strategy

Deadlines give politics a pulse. This package comes with several, each calibrated to squeeze Moscow’s revenues while trying to keep European lights on and homes warm.

New contracts for Russian gas would be banned from 1 January 2026.
Short-term contracts would be allowed to run only until 17 June next year.
Existing long-term contracts would be phased out by 1 January 2028.
The broader ambition is to remove all remaining Russian gas imports by the end of 2027, with an even earlier push by the Commission to exclude LNG from Russia by January 2027.

“This is a crucial step toward energy independence,” said Denmark’s energy minister, Lars Aagaard, whose country currently holds the EU presidency. His words, warm and deliberate, echoed through the hall like a promise. “We have pushed hard to get Russian gas and oil out of Europe; now we need to finish the job.”

Who’s on board — and who’s not

European capitals greeted the decision with a mix of relief and resignation. Diplomats say the move passed with nearly unanimous support — all but Hungary and Slovakia backed it — a reminder that unity can be fragile when national geography and history come into play.

Budapest’s ire was blunt and public. “The real impact of this regulation is that our safe supply of energy in Hungary is going to be killed,” Peter Szijjarto, Hungary’s foreign minister, told reporters after the vote. Hungary insists that being landlocked and tied into certain pipeline routes makes the transition uniquely difficult.

On the streets of Budapest, you can still see the practical contours of that argument. A bakery owner in the XIII district, Márta Kovács, shrugged as she opened her shop early one morning. “We heat with gas; margins are thin. Politicians can speak of independence in Brussels. Here, we count every euro,” she said. Her comment captured an unease that stretches beyond diplomatic cables: policy choices ripple into kitchens, factories and hospital wards.

Why this matters: money, security and climate

It is not just symbolism. Russian gas still made up an estimated 13% of EU imports in 2025, according to the European Commission, representing more than €15 billion in trade. For many member states, that was both a security problem — supply could be used as leverage — and an economic one.

Cutting that 13% out of the equation forces choices: build more interconnectors, expand regasification capacity for LNG from non-Russian suppliers, accelerate renewables, or accept temporary price volatility. Each option carries trade-offs between speed, cost and resilience.

Energy expert Dr. Anika Meier of the European Energy Institute cautioned against romanticizing the transition. “You can set dates on paper,” she told me over an espresso in Luxembourg’s old town. “Execution is complicated. Grid upgrades take time. Storage and diversification require money and political will. And there will be winners and losers — some regions will manage smoother than others.”

Logistics on the ground

The reality of weaning off Russian gas plays out in concrete ways. Ports in northwest Europe have been busier, welcoming tankers of LNG bought from a wider roster of suppliers. Spain and Portugal, with their regas terminals and Atlantic access, have been repositioning as gas hubs. In the Baltic states, new pipelines and interconnectors are being pushed through as a hedge against old dependencies.

Poland, Lithuania and Germany have bolstered infrastructure; small countries with limited options stare at steeper hills. For those nations, the Commission’s proposal contains transitional breathing room — but not indefinitely.

Politics of unanimity and the art of compromise

One political wrinkle underlined the complexity: EU sanctions require unanimity among the 27 states — a high bar. Trade restrictions like those ministers approved only need a qualified majority (a weighted majority of at least 15 countries), which makes the current pathway more feasible politically, if no less contentious diplomatically.

“This is how the EU works in crisis: compromise where possible, push where necessary,” said Jean-Paul Moreau, a former EU trade official. “If unanimity is impossible, you seek the strongest coalition that can move quickly and still carry legitimacy.”

Everyday consequences and local color

Back in the Hungarian suburbs, lifelines are practical. A small steelworks north of the city keeps three shifts running on natural gas. Its manager, István Horváth, worries aloud: “Switching suppliers means new contracts, new logistics. There’s not a single solution that doesn’t cost us more.” His tone was resigned, a pragmatic acceptance that economics will shape politics in the months ahead.

Contrast that with Copenhagen, where the municipal heating company stages open-days explaining district heat systems and insulated homes. “We see this as an opportunity to leap forward,” a city engineer told me. “When the geopolitics change, the ones with planning and public investment win the race.”

What to watch next

There are immediate, watchable milestones. Parliament will weigh in. The Commission’s push to ban LNG imports from Russia by January 2027 could speed up the erosion of Moscow’s energy revenues. Observers will also watch which countries seek derogations or transition support, and how the market responds — whether prices spike, or whether supply chains adapt quietly.

But beyond technicalities there is a larger question: what is Europe becoming as it reconfigures essential lifelines? Is this a pivot toward genuine energy sovereignty, and towards the cleaner, decentralized systems climate scientists say we need? Or will geopolitics simply reroute dependencies to new suppliers halfway across the world?

As the ministers dispersed, there was a consensus about urgency and a clear admission of work to do. “We are not there yet,” Aagaard said — and that sentence, candid and human, may be the most useful of all. It acknowledges complexity without abandoning ambition.

So I ask you, reader: when a continent rewrites its energy script, who gets a seat at the table? The negotiator in Brussels? The small-business owner by the tram line? The engineer planning the next interconnector? The answer will help determine whether Europe’s exit from Russian gas is merely a geopolitical maneuver — or a chance to reimagine an energy future that is cleaner, fairer and more resilient.

Prosecutors Withdraw Charges Against Linehan After Social Media Posts

By

hanad

-

October 21, 2025

0

Prosecutors drop Linehan case over social media posts — Graham Linehan was arrested at Heathrow Airport

The Arrest at the Airport and a Case That Vanished

Heathrow at dusk can feel like a city inside a city: suitcases roll, children argue in a dozen languages, travelers hug and part and vanish into the terminals. It was into that familiar, bustling blur that five armed officers stepped last month to arrest Graham Linehan — the 57-year-old Irish writer best known for co-creating the beloved sitcom Father Ted — on suspicion of inciting violence over social media posts about transgender people.

Today that drama has a coda: the Crown Prosecution Service has dropped the case and the Metropolitan Police have told Linehan’s lawyers he faces “no further action.” Linehan marked the announcement with a defiant post on X: “The police have informed my lawyers that I face no further action in respect of the arrest at Heathrow in September,” he wrote, adding that the CPS had “dropped the case.”

The arrest itself had been stark. Linehan says the action related to three social media posts; one of them — widely circulated — included the line: “If a trans-identified male is in a female-only space, he is committing a violent, abusive act. Make a scene, call the cops and if all else fails, punch him in the balls.” It is the kind of provocation that sits at the center of an international debate about speech, safety and the role of law enforcement in policing online words.

Voices in the Aftermath

For Linehan and his supporters, the dropped charges are vindication. “With the aid of the Free Speech Union, I still aim to hold the police accountable for what is only the latest attempt to silence and suppress gender critical voices on behalf of dangerous and disturbed men,” he wrote on X after the news broke.

The Free Speech Union — which has said it will sue the Met for what it calls a “wrongful arrest” — framed the episode as part of a worrying pattern. “We’ve instructed a top flight team of lawyers to sue the Met for wrongful arrest, among other things,” the group declared, criticizing police for subjecting Linehan to weeks of bail with conditions that included a ban on posting on X. “Police forces cannot continue to suppress lawful free speech without facing consequences,” their statement continued.

On the other side, the Met spokesperson acknowledged the sensitivity of the case but also signalled a policy shift. “We understand the concern around this case,” a statement said. “The Commissioner has been clear he doesn’t believe officers should be policing toxic culture war debates… As a result, the Met will no longer investigate non-crime hate incidents.”

What are non-crime hate incidents?

Non-crime hate incidents are reports logged by police when someone alleges a hateful act that falls short of a criminal threshold. They can be based on offensive comments or behaviour that leaves no evidence of an offence. Such reports have been increasingly used as intelligence — a way for forces to track patterns — but they have also become lightning rods in debates about free expression.

According to police guidance and civil liberties groups, thousands of such incidents have been recorded across UK forces in recent years, a number that has prompted both concern and scrutiny: are police stretched thin investigating speech, or are they failing to capture the build-up to real-world harm by ignoring these early warnings? The Met’s announcement suggests they aim to draw that line more clearly.

Images and Ironies: Armed Officers and Bail Conditions

There is a particular irony in the image that has stayed with many observers: a writer, on his way home, met by an armed response unit. The Free Speech Union points to that moment as disproportionate; critics say the spectacle shows how fraught policing speech has become under pressure from vocal activists on all sides.

One legal source familiar with these kinds of cases told me, on background, that arrests at airports are often tactical — designed to prevent flight — but they also send a message. “An arrest is public. It carries with it a stigma even if no charge follows,” the source said. “This is not just about one man’s social media posts. It’s about how institutions react under pressure.”

The Broader Conversation: Speech, Safety and the Digital Age

What looks like an isolated drama actually sits at the intersection of several global currents: the furious contest over transgender rights and spaces; the uneven ways law enforcement translates online words into offline risks; and the persistent tension between protecting vulnerable communities and preserving contentious debate in public life.

Across North America and Europe, courts and police are wrestling with similar questions. When does a tweet cross the threshold into criminal incitement? When does a provocative call to “make a scene” become a roadmap to violence — and who decides? As social media accelerates emotions and flattens context, these questions become harder to resolve.

“There is no easy answer,” says a civil liberties academic I spoke with. “Laws were drafted before the velocity of platforms like X or Threads. We are still inventing the right tools—and the right norms—for a world where a single post can ripple across continents.”

Local Colour: The Human Dimension

Walk through a London high street and you’ll find the debate is not theoretical. At a small trans support centre in east London, a volunteer told me the fear is real. “Our clients tell us they don’t feel safe in public toilets sometimes,” she said, pausing to choose her words. “Words can become action. That’s the context for why people react when public figures say things like that.”

Meanwhile, in a pub near Heathrow, a retired airline worker shrugged. “Freedom of speech is important, but there’s a duty of responsibility too,” he said. “If someone tells people to punch another person, that feels violent.”

What Happens Next?

For Linehan, the immediate legal cloud has cleared — but the wider cultural battle is far from over. The Free Speech Union’s threat to sue the Met could force another public reckoning: about arrest protocols, bail conditions and the role of police in disputes that begin online and spill into real-world fear.

The Met’s decision to stop investigating non-crime hate incidents may reduce ambiguity for officers, the force said, allowing them to “focus our resources on criminality and public protection.” But critics warn that removing that intermediate category could obscure the early patterns that sometimes presage more serious wrongdoing.

So, where does that leave us? As readers, as citizens, as neighbours who share streets and services, we are left to navigate the uncomfortable middle ground between offence and illegality, between protest and violence, between the right to speak and the risk that speech may harm.

Would you want police to act sooner on offensive speech, or would you fear the chilling effects of overreach? How much power should platforms, prosecutors, or the public have over what is said in the name of political or personal belief? These are not questions for a single case to answer — they are the questions of an era.

Final Thought

Graham Linehan’s case will be cited on both sides: as an example of over-zealous policing or as a near-miss that exposed the limits of free expression. But beyond the headlines, the real story is about how a society chooses to negotiate the space between speech and safety. That negotiation will shape not only the next viral post, but the next life lived in the shadow of those posts — at the airport, in a hospital corridor, in a neighbourhood pub. And it will require judgement, patience, and above all a willingness to listen to the people most affected.