UK urges allies to increase Ukraine’s missile strike range

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October 25, 2025

Suspect in deadly Los Angeles fire pleads not guilty — Jonathan Rinderknecht's arrest in Florida this month came after a lengthy investigation into the cause of the Palisades Fire

A New Year’s Blaze: How Two Fires Rewrote a California Landscape

It was supposed to be a quiet New Year’s morning — sleepy sidewalks, the faint smell of rosemary and coffee, the hush that settles over places where ocean breezes meet manicured hills. Instead, flames licked at the skyline above Pacific Palisades and, nearly simultaneously, a different inferno erupted near Altadena. By the time the smoke cleared, 31 people were dead, whole neighborhoods were unmoored, and an already anxious state was left confronting fresh questions about responsibility, infrastructure and climate.

“I woke to a sound like a jet engine,” said Maria Lopez, 62, who evacuated her Spanish-tiled house in the Palisades clutching family photographs. “The sky was the color of an old coin, orange and mean. I kept thinking, ‘Is this really happening here?’ We never imagined our street would be on fire.”

The Man Arrested: Courtroom, Charges and a Plea

In a federal courthouse this autumn, 29-year-old Jonathan Rinderknecht entered a plea that will keep him at the center of a case with national resonance: not guilty. He stands charged with destruction of property by means of fire, arson affecting property used in interstate commerce, and timber set afire — federal counts that together carry up to 45 years in prison if prosecutors prevail.

Rinderknecht, who remains in federal custody after his arrest in Florida this month, told US Magistrate Judge Rozella Oliver he understood the allegations and denied them. He is due back in court on 12 November, with a trial tentatively scheduled for 16 December.

“We are committed to following the evidence wherever it leads,” a prosecutor said outside the courthouse, declining to comment further. “This case involves not only the loss of property but the loss of life. Accountability matters.”

Two Fires, Two Narratives

Investigators point to different causes for the two conflagrations that ravaged Los Angeles County. Prosecutors allege the Palisades Fire was deliberately set and initially suppressed, only to be blown back into life by ferocious winds days later. Near Altadena, investigators and residents have focused on signs of electrical failure — images and witness accounts describe sparks from aging infrastructure as flames took hold.

Southern California Edison, the utility that serves the region, has already said it would begin paying compensation to those affected by the Eaton Fire in Altadena. “We are deeply sorry for the devastation these fires have caused,” a company statement read in July. “We will cooperate with investigators and support our customers during recovery.”

But apologies and payments do not erase the sleeplessness on the ground. “We watched a power pole pop and shower sparks like the Fourth of July,” said Ana Castillo, an Altadena resident who has spent weeks volunteering at a shelter. “I grabbed my dog and my passport. That’s all I could think to take.”

What the Flames Reveal: Water, Wind and the Urban Fabric

Firefighters battled winds clocked at up to 160 km/h (around 100 mph), conditions that grounded helicopters and overwhelmed containment strategies. The blaze ran through landscapes — eucalyptus groves, chaparral, and a patchwork of million-dollar villas — that were never meant to coexist with such ferocity. Urban water systems, engineered for domestic supply and not for firefighting on this scale, strained under demands they were never designed to meet.

“When you’ve got winds like that and fuel like chaparral, you’re dealing with a different beast,” said Captain Marcus Reed of the Los Angeles Fire Department. “We do heroic work, every day. But there are limits to what people and machines can stop when the weather and the landscape conspire.”

More than property was at risk. For many residents the loss has been existential: the erasing of family heirlooms; the forced scatter of a neighborhood’s social life; the sudden rewriting of daily routines. Evacuation centers sprouted in community centers and school gyms, where volunteers sorted donations and strangers brokered comfort in shared, groggy silence.

Fatalities: 31 people confirmed dead.
Homes destroyed and thousands left homeless.
Damage estimates running into the hundreds of billions — a sobering marker of social and economic loss.

Voices from the Rubble

At a makeshift soup kitchen, a volunteer chef ladled out stew and listened. “You can’t fix grief with canned beans,” she said, wiping her hands. “But people need to be heard. They need to know they’re not facing this alone.”

Legal analysts watching the Rinderknecht case say the intersection of alleged arson, infrastructural blame and climate-driven risk will make this trial more than a criminal proceeding: it may be a bellwether for how society assigns responsibility in an era of compound disasters.

“We’re entering an era where the law has to grapple with culpability across actors — individuals, utilities, government agencies,” said James Monroe, a legal scholar. “Courts will be tasked with sorting intentions from coincidences and failures of systems.”

Climate, Infrastructure and Accountability

These fires did not happen in a vacuum. Scientists have documented that wildfire seasons in the western United States have gotten longer and more intense over recent decades, driven by higher temperatures, shifting precipitation patterns, and decades of vegetation changes. Urban expansion into wildland-urban interfaces has put more people, homes and assets in harm’s way.

“You can point to one spark, one ignition, and still be looking at a system failure,” said Dr. Elaine Park, a wildfire ecologist. “When climate, fuel and infrastructure vulnerabilities line up, the result is catastrophic. Prevention has to be systemic, not just a call for better behavior.”

In California, the conversation now includes questions about vegetation management, hardening electrical grids, and the responsibilities of corporations whose equipment often runs through high-risk zones. There are also calls for smarter land use and better-resourced emergency water systems that can support prolonged firefighting efforts.

Recovery, Memory and the Question of “Normal”

For residents like Maria and Ana, recovery is a word that arrives in fits and starts. Insurance claim forms pile up. Rebuilding permits move through bureaucracies. And yet, beneath the paperwork, there is the quieter work of rebuilding lives — remembering the routes children took to school, the sound of a neighbor’s piano, the way a particular lemon tree bent under its own fruit.

“Will things go back to normal?” a volunteer asked one evening. The question hung in the smoky air. “Maybe ‘normal’ is gone. Maybe the word now means how we adapt.”

What Can We Learn — and What Will We Do?

As the Rinderknecht case moves through the courts and investigators continue to sift through the physical and social wreckage, the larger questions remain. How do we protect lives and landscapes in a warming world? How do we hold institutions accountable while also investing in resilient infrastructure? How do communities keep their memory and identity alive after a catastrophe?

Think about your own neighborhood. Could it withstand a similar shock? What would you take if you had five minutes to leave? These are uncomfortable questions — but they are the ones that will shape how we live together in the years ahead.

In the end, the ashes of the Palisades and Altadena are not only a ledger of loss. They are a classroom. They teach us about the fragility of place, the interdependence of systems, and the stubborn human capacity to rebuild. They also remind us that accountability — in courtrooms and in policy rooms — will be part of the work of healing.

“We owe the memorial to those we lost the truth,” said a council member at a community vigil. “And we owe the living action that will prevent the next tragedy.”

International coalition seeks to compel Putin into peace negotiations

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October 25, 2025

Coalition of the Willing aims to force Putin to negotiate — Volodymyr Zelensky, Keir Starmer and Mark Rutte speaking to the media after the meeting of the Coalition of the Willing

A Royal Reception, a Red Carpet — and a Moment of Reckoning

There are moments when diplomacy feels almost ceremonial: the clip-clop of horses, the low brass of a national anthem, a salute as crisp as a photograph. At Windsor Castle on a damp afternoon, President Volodymyr Zelensky walked beneath ancient stone and modern scrutiny to meet King Charles, and the world seemed to pause to watch what looked, on the surface, like pageantry.

“Ukraine’s future is our future,” Prime Minister Keir Starmer declared afterward, and his words settled into the press rooms of London like a deliberate, heavy note. “What happens in the weeks and months ahead is pivotal for the security of the UK and all our allies across NATO and beyond. So we are determined to act now.”

It was an image-heavy visit: the royal welcome, the dignity of a guard of honour, then a red carpet laid out at Downing Street where Mr. Starmer waited with an embrace that seemed meant to reassure a weary ally. But beneath those images was a more urgent choreography — a rush to maintain momentum for Ukraine as winter approaches and as global attention flickers between summits, sanctions and high-stakes diplomacy.

Coalition of the Willing: A Digital Roundtable with Real Stakes

Within hours of Zelensky’s stop in Washington — a visit that had produced public disappointment at the lack of a concrete U.S. pledge on long-range systems like Tomahawk missiles — the United Kingdom convened a version of what it called a “Coalition of the Willing.” More than 20 leaders dialed in, many remotely, to knit together assurances, money and munitions.

The U.S. was not present at the virtual table; by design it is not a member. Yet every speaker returned to the same refrain: no meaningful long-term peace for Ukraine will be viable without American guarantees. “We need the United States at the heart of any sustainable security architecture,” said a senior European official after the call. “It’s a political and practical reality.”

That reality was sharpened by recent moves: American sanctions on two major Russian oil companies, the EU’s adoption of its 19th round of sanctions and discussions in Brussels about a plan to offer Ukraine a €140 billion loan using immobilised Russian assets as backing. These are not merely punitive measures; they are efforts to change the calculus on Moscow’s ability to wage war.

What Leaders Agreed — And What They Didn’t

Out of the meeting came a handful of concrete pledges and a stack of political promises. Britain accelerated the delivery of some 140 lightweight multirole missiles being manufactured in Belfast. The Netherlands promised extra energy support to get Ukraine through the winter. Denmark said it hoped a major financing package could be locked in “by Christmas Eve,” and Ireland’s Taoiseach Micheál Martin reiterated Ireland’s willingness to consider contributing to peacekeeping if and when a ceasefire holds.

“The idea of getting Russia to pay for the damages they have done in Ukraine is the only way forward,” Denmark’s Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen said. “There are technical questions, but this is a political choice.”

UK: Accelerate delivery of 140 lightweight missiles produced in Belfast.
EU: Adopted 19th round of sanctions and discussed a €140bn loan backed by frozen Russian assets.
Netherlands: Boost energy support for Ukraine through the winter months.

Winter, Weapons and the Long Game

For Zelensky and for the Europeans gathered virtually, winter is not just weather; it is a season of strategic danger. Energy grids will be strained, humanitarian needs will spike, and the rhythm of conflict — supply, counteroffensive, attrition — can change with the cold. “We are fighting on multiple fronts: military, economic, diplomatic and humanitarian,” a Ukrainian field medic, Anna Kowalska, told me over the phone from Lviv. “Every blanket, every megawatt, every missile counts.”

British Prime Minister Starmer urged partners to provide long-range capabilities and to speed up already-announced shipments. “If Ukraine goes into negotiations, it must do so from strength,” he argued, capturing the strategic logic behind pushing arms and finance now.

On the ground in Belfast, where the UK-supplied missiles are being assembled, workers speak of the work with a mix of pride and unease. “I’m building something that might save lives,” said Liam O’Connor, a technician at one of the factories. “But you can’t help thinking about where it will end up and what it means for people in the other country.”

Can Sanctions and Loans Force a Negotiation?

The coalition’s long-term objective is blunt: to compel President Vladimir Putin to the negotiating table on terms that could secure Ukrainian sovereignty. “Putin is gaining little ground on the battlefield,” Netherlands’ Prime Minister Mark Rutte said; “they are coming at a huge price.” He stressed that Russia’s resources — soldiers, money, and political capital — are under pressure.

But the Kremlin’s reaction has been steady defiance. Moscow called the latest U.S. sanctions “serious” but argued they were insufficient to topple the Russian economy or change policy. For every sanction, there is a countermeasure; for every freeze on assets, a volley of rhetoric. The stalemate produces a troubling question: what level of pain is necessary, and who bears it?

Economists estimate the cost of prolonged conflict in Ukraine in the hundreds of billions of euros in economic damage, with millions displaced and large swathes of industry and agriculture disrupted. The EU’s €140 billion loan proposal — using immobilised Russian assets — is meant to be both a lifeline and a lever. But turning frozen assets into functioning credit is as much a legal and diplomatic challenge as it is a moral one.

Voices from the Street: Hope, Skepticism, Resolve

Not all the voices are those of leaders. In a café near Downing Street, an older woman stirred her tea slowly and said, “We do what we can. But sometimes it feels like hearing the same vows again and again.” In a refugee center outside Warsaw, Sofia, a mother of two who fled Kharkiv, said, “We are grateful. We need more than gratitude. We need power and food and safety.”

Security analysts caution that Western unity is brittle. “Coalitions of the willing can move fast, but they can also fracture quickly when domestic politics shift,” warned Dr. Sofia Marin, a geopolitical analyst at a Brussels think tank. “The U.S. is central. If Washington snaps one way or another, European coherence could be tested.”

Why This Matters to You

Ask yourself: why should a royal visit or a summit of leaders in Europe matter to someone in Lagos, Lagos; Lahore, Pakistan; or Lima, Peru? Because the way the world deals with aggression now sets precedents for how international law and power politics operate in years to come. Food and fuel markets ripple from Ukraine; migration patterns shift as cities swell with displaced families; and the norms that protect smaller nations are under test.

We are watching a diplomatic relay that alternates between ceremony and urgent problem-solving. There will be more speeches, more sanctions, more shipments. There will also be nights when soldiers huddle in trenches and parents pray for warmth and peace. The question the Coalition of the Willing confronted is not merely military logistics; it’s whether democracies will cohere long enough to turn tactical support into a strategic solution.

As you read this, ponder what your nation, community, or corner of the world can do to keep attention on the human costs — and to press leaders to translate symbolic gestures into enduring security and reconstruction. A red carpet and a royal handshake are powerful images. Now the harder work begins.

Madaxweynaha Puntland oo Inkiray maamulka Waqooyi Bari ee dhawaan ka dhisay

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October 25, 2025

Nov 25(Jowhar)-Madaxweynaha Puntland Siciid Deni oo khudbad ka jeediyay furitaanka kalfadhigga 57-aad ee baarlamanka maamulkiisa ayaa inkiray maamulka Waqooyi bari ee dhawaan la dhisay.

Shacabka Qaza oo wali go’doon ku jiray kadib heshiiskii ay galeen Xamaas iyo Israel

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October 25, 2025

Nov 25(Jowhar)-Dad badan oo ku nool Gaza ayaa weli ku jira xaalad hubanti la.aan ah. Qaybaha kala duwan ee Cisbitaalka Naasir ayaa jiifa laba wiil oo 10 jir ah, oo mid ka mid ah ay ku dhacday rasaas habow ah oo dhanka Israa’iil ka timid taasoo curyaamisay, mid kalena waxaa ku taalla buro maskaxda ah.

Russian strikes in Ukraine leave at least two people dead

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October 25, 2025

Russian strikes on Ukraine kill at least two — A crushed truck at a civilian enterprise destroyed by a Russian airstrike in the Industrialnyi district of Kharkiv

Nightfall and Shrapnel: Kyiv and Dnipropetrovsk After Another Round of Strikes

When the first explosions rip through the hush of a Ukrainian night, the sound arrives in layers — a distant thump, then the metallic rattle of falling debris, then the high, uncompromising wail of air-raid sirens. On this wintry evening, the sirens were not a warning but a soundtrack to a city and a region that have learned how to catalog fear into routines.

Local authorities reported that a series of missile and drone strikes struck several regions, including Dnipropetrovsk Oblast and the capital, Kyiv. In Dnipropetrovsk, officials say at least two people were killed and seven wounded as buildings, a shop and vehicles were damaged. In Kyiv, hospitals treated eight people for wounds, three of whom required hospitalization; fires burned through non-residential buildings in multiple districts.

A city under light and shadow

“It felt like the ground was being peeled back,” said Oksana, a 42-year-old schoolteacher who lives in Darnytskyi district, where authorities reported large fires. “You duck, you count, you text the same three people: Are you safe? Have you seen the kids? Then you go outside because everyone goes outside. We are human after all.”

The pattern of the attack — a mix of ballistic missiles and smaller loitering drones — is one that has become depressingly familiar over the last three winters of a war that keeps finding new ways to test both machinery and morale. Kyiv’s mayor described the capital as being “under a ballistic attack,” with impacts reported in several districts, and the head of the city’s military administration confirmed damage across Dniprovsky district as well.

Firefighters and emergency crews moved through streets still slick with melting snow and water, the air thick with smoke. Apartment blocks bore the ragged lacework of shattered windows. A corner shop, its neon sign half-collapsed, smelled of burned sugar and spilled bread.

Faces amid the rubble

Not every casualty is recorded in the official tallies. Volodymyr, 28, a volunteer who runs a neighborhood aid center near the site of one strike, described the aftermath in human scale: “We grabbed hot tea, water, blankets. There’s always someone who lost a photograph, a T-shirt, a small memory. To them it’s everything. One old woman kept asking where her cat was. How do you tell her the cat is probably hiding under broken plywood?”

Emergency responders described scenes of quick triage in lobbies and stairwells, the informal “hospitals” that spring up when ambulances are swamped. “We are trained for this,” said an EMT who asked not to be named. “But training isn’t the same as having a child crying in your arms asking why the sky is angry.”

Local textures

In Dnipropetrovsk, the strike zone is an ordinary urban quilt: Soviet-era apartment blocks sit shoulder-to-shoulder with small corner bakeries, an auto repair shop, and a family-run grocer whose owner greeted customers each morning with a joke and a free ponta — a small pastry. Now the grocer’s window is gone, its shelves dusted in gray. Neighbors leave candles and stuffed animals at the curb, not unlike small altars to randomness.

“We were not fighters,” says Natalia, a retiree who has lived in the same apartment for thirty-eight years. “We grew tomatoes on our balcony, we learned to ride bikes. Now every time the phone buzzes I think, should I leave or should I stay? There is no normal anymore.”

Strategy, sanctions, and winter geopolitics

This wave of attacks arrives against a backdrop of intensified diplomatic pressure on Moscow. In recent days, both the United States and the European Union announced fresh measures targeting Russian energy exports — moves designed, officials said, to constrict revenue streams feeding the machinery of war. The sanctions aim to limit Russia’s ability to sell oil and gas freely on international markets and to target key revenue channels.

Sanctions and energy measures are intended to reduce Moscow’s export income and limit its access to vital western technology for its energy sector.
Western governments have also expanded restrictions on individuals, banks, and critical infrastructure linked to military procurement.
Analysts say such measures are calibrated to apply pressure while trying to shield global energy markets from sudden shocks — a delicate balancing act ahead of another harsh winter.

“Sanctions are a blunt instrument,” noted Dr. Elena Markov, a security analyst who studies energy geopolitics. “They can restrict cash flow, but history shows that determined states find workarounds. The real measure is whether these steps degrade logistics and procurement over the medium term.”

What this means for ordinary people

For residents of Kyiv and Dnipropetrovsk, the macro moves of diplomacy are intangible. The immediate questions are practical: Will the electricity hold through the night? Can the small bakery reopen tomorrow? Will the child smiling at the bakery window still have flour to knead for school buns? The link between sanctions and the soldier on the front line is indirect; the link between a damaged apartment and a household’s ability to cope is immediate.

“We are watching global leaders on TV,” said Mykola, a small-business owner whose storefront was scorched in the strike. “But when the lights go out, when your freezer thaws, you don’t call them. You call your neighbor.”

Broader currents: winter, resilience, and the human cost

As the war moves into another winter, scarcity becomes not just a strategic concern but a seasonal one. Fuel, power, shelter — these are the axes along which civilian endurance will be tested. Even as sanctions aim to tip the balance of resources, the ethical and humanitarian calculus grows more complex. How do democracies press an aggressor economically without deepening the suffering of ordinary people who are already being crushed?

That question doesn’t have a tidy answer. It unfolds in hospital corridors, in the administrative spreadsheets of ministries, and in the quiet sacrifices of people who learn to share a heater or a bag of potatoes. It is asked every time a missile arcs across the sky.

What can you do — and what should you think about?

When you read these reports from afar, it’s tempting to scroll, sigh, and move on. But consider the gestures that matter: supporting vetted humanitarian groups, asking your representatives about diplomatic paths and civilian protections, and holding fast to the fact that behind every data point is a person.

“We are not numbers,” said Oksana, the teacher. “We make jam, we argue about politics, we go to weddings. Please don’t let our stories be footnotes.”

So as night settles and emergency lights blink through the smoke, remember that this is not an abstract chessboard. It is a mosaic of neighborhoods, laughter, grief, and perseverance. It is a test of how the world balances strategy with compassion, pressure with protection. And in the quiet between sirens, the question returns: when the fireworks end, what will we have learned about holding people responsible without breaking them?

Madaxweyne Deni oo saaka la hadlayo baarlamaanka Puntland

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October 25, 2025

Nov 25(Jowhar)-Madaxweynaha maamulka Puntland, Siciid Cabdullaahi Deni, ayaa saaka khudbad dastuuri ah ka jeedin doona furitaanka kal-fadhiga 57-aad ee Golaha Wakiillada Puntland, taas oo ka dhici doonta magaalada Garoowe, caasimadda maamulka.

Alabama carries out execution of convicted killer using nitrogen gas

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October 24, 2025

Alabama executes convicted murderer with nitrogen gas — Anthony Boyd was executed at the state prison in Atmore

A Quiet Town, a Loud Decision: Alabama’s Latest Execution and the Questions It Leaves Behind

In the late heat of an Alabama evening, the town of Atmore felt ordinary — crickets under the oaks, a church bell marking the hour, the slow exhale of a community used to its own rhythms. But inside the state prison, a different kind of hush settled: mechanical, clinical, final. At 6:33pm Central time, Anthony Boyd, 54, was pronounced dead. The method was nitrogen hypoxia — a face mask and a steady stream of inert gas — a technique that has opened a new front in the long, polarizing fight over capital punishment in the United States.

The case that followed a life

Boyd had been on death row for decades. Convicted in 1995 for the 1993 killing of 32-year-old Gregory Huguley, he insisted until the end that he was innocent. Prosecutors said Boyd and three others abducted Huguley, allegedly over a $200 drug debt. According to court testimony, Huguley was bound, doused in gasoline and set alight at a baseball field. The conviction rested largely on the testimony of a co-defendant, Quintay Cox, who, unlike Boyd, was spared the death penalty.

“I’ve sat with dozens of families on both sides of cases like this,” said a retired public defender who asked not to be named. “For the state, executions are supposed to be about closure. For many families — and for those who believe in rehabilitation or fear judicial error — they breed more trauma than peace.”

Nitrogen Hypoxia: A New Method, Old Debates

Nitrogen hypoxia works by displacing oxygen with an inert gas. In theory, it causes a painless loss of consciousness — a simple, modern alternative to lethal injection. In practice, it has become a lightning rod. United Nations human rights experts have called the method cruel and inhumane. Ethics scholars and medical organizations have raised alarms about any medicalized involvement in executions.

“We’re walking a tightrope between technological efficiency and moral responsibility,” said Dr. Laila Mercer, a bioethicist at a university in the Southeast. “When the state experiments with new ways to end life, ensuring transparency and scientific scrutiny is not optional.”

Numbers that matter — and some that don’t

This execution was recorded as the 40th in the United States this year — the highest annual total since 2012, when 43 people were put to death. Florida has led that grim tally with 14 executions, while Texas and Alabama have each carried out five. Those numbers are more than tallies; they are a map of where the death penalty remains an active part of criminal justice.

Approximately half the states have moved away from capital punishment: 23 states have abolished it outright, while California, Oregon and Pennsylvania maintain formal moratoriums on executions.
Federal and state policies vary: some jurisdictions are accelerating execution schedules, others are stepping back entirely.

“These statistics remind us that the death penalty in America is a patchwork,” said an analyst at a criminal justice think tank. “It’s driven by local politics, availability of drugs for lethal injection, and shifting public opinion.”

Voices from the margins — family, neighbors, campaigners

Outside the prison gates, reactions were raw and diverse. A woman who said she was a cousin of Huguley shook her head as she remembered the man she lost. “It wasn’t justice that took him back,” she said. “It was a life tangled up in drugs and pain.”

On the other side, a small group of activists chanted and held signs urging abolition. “You can’t put the state in the business of deciding when people die without accountability,” said Marcus Reed, who has campaigned against executions for more than a decade. “We’re not anti-victim; we’re pro-justice.”

Inside the prison, a chaplain who had spoken with Boyd in the days before his death described a man worn by time but steady in his convictions. “He kept asking for his mother,” the chaplain said. “He wanted forgiveness and he wanted to be heard.”

Law, politics and the wider context

The recent uptick in executions has been shaped by several forces. Supply shortages of drugs used for lethal injection pushed states to explore alternatives, including nitrogen. Political leaders who publicly back capital punishment have influenced the pace of executions. On the federal level, supporters have called for broader use of the death penalty for heinous crimes — a stance that has filtered into state politics as well.

“The mechanics of execution are only one piece of the puzzle,” said a law professor who studies capital punishment. “We also need to look at representation quality, plea bargaining dynamics, racial disparities, and how poverty and addiction feed into violent crime.”

What do we owe each other?

The sight of a gas mask and a machine in a small Alabama room raises a question many Americans are confronting anew: what is the purpose of punishment? Is it retribution, deterrence, incapacitation, or rehabilitation? Or some mixture of them all?

“We must ask, honestly, whether the state should claim the authority to end lives — and under what safeguards,” said Dr. Mercer. “That conversation involves not just lawyers and politicians, but doctors, ethicists, and everyday citizens.”

Across the country, attitudes are shifting. Younger generations appear less supportive of capital punishment than their elders; several states have moved to abolish it or to impose moratoriums. Yet in places where violent crime and political rhetoric collide, the death penalty remains a tool some leaders turn to.

Questions for the reader

What do you think justice looks like for victims’ families? When a legal system convicts someone based largely on the testimony of a co-defendant, should the state proceed with the ultimate punishment? How should societies balance a demand for accountability with a precaution against irreversible error?

These are not simply legal queries. They are moral and civic ones, pushing us to examine what kind of society we want to be. As Anthony Boyd’s last breath became part of the public record, the debate did not end. It widened — across kitchens and courtrooms, across choked towns and city halls.

There will be more stories like this one. There will be other faces and other families. And each time, we will be invited — implicitly or explicitly — to decide whether the machinery of punishment is meeting the demands of justice, or merely amplifying its wounds.

Rubio pushes for swift deployment of multinational Gaza security force

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October 24, 2025

Rubio seeks quick deployment of international Gaza force — A humanitarian aid convoy consisting of 50 trucks sent by Egypt on its way to Gaza City

A warehouse, a truce and the weight of a war: Inside the fragile pause in Gaza

There is an oddness to the place: a cavernous, rented warehouse in southern Israel converted into a nerve centre, its concrete floors softened by a strip of artificial grass and its walls lined with screens pulsing maps, satellite feeds and lists of names. Uniforms of many nations shuffle past one another. Coffee cups multiply on a cluttered table. Hope and skepticism hang in the air like dust.

It is here, amid the hum of radios and the quiet urgency of people who have not slept properly for months, that the future of a fragile ceasefire is being debated. US Secretary of State Marco Rubio arrived as part of a diplomatic flurry — a visit after the US vice-president and a sign that Washington is leaning hard into stabilising a conflict that has ravaged Gaza for two long years.

“We have to put the stabilisation force in as soon as it is ready,” Rubio told a small press grouping inside the warehouse. “Countries have volunteered; Israel must feel comfortable with who is on the ground.”

Who can be trusted to hold the peace?

That line — Israel’s comfort — is the hinge on which everything turns. The deal being pushed by the US administration proposes an international force to enter Gaza to ensure security as Israeli forces stand down after a devastating war that began with Hamas’s October 7, 2023 attack.

But comfort is a complicated thing in the Middle East. Turkey, a NATO power and the first Muslim-majority nation to recognise Israel decades ago, is now in fraught political orbit with Jerusalem. Under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Ankara has hosted Hamas leaders and has accused Israel of atrocities — charges Israel rejects. As a result, Istanbul’s potential participation has reportedly raised Israeli objections.

Other offers are on the table: Indonesia, the world’s most populous Muslim-majority nation, has said it could send troops. The United Arab Emirates — which normalised ties with Israel in 2020 and has experience in ceasefire monitoring — has already been involved in aspects of the truce. The United States may seek a United Nations mandate to give countries the political cover they need to deploy.

Turkey — reportedly objected to by Israel
Indonesia — has said it is ready to participate
United Arab Emirates — already engaged in monitoring
Multiple Western countries — personnel seen at the coordination centre

“If they send forces that Israel can’t live with, the whole thing collapses,” said an Israeli defence official who asked not to be named. “We will veto; we must be certain this is not a ticking time bomb.”

Between politics and the people

For those who live with the day-to-day consequences of the war, the debates about vetoes and mandates can feel remote. In Khan Yunis, in southern Gaza, vendors have begun to reopen stalls. A small cluster of oranges, a crate of tomatoes, a bar of locally made cheese — these are almost miraculous after months of siege and bombardment.

“You come to buy a kilo of onions and feel like you have bought the sea,” laughed Samira, a market vendor, her hands still shaking from the afternoon’s bustle. “We had lost everything. The pause has given the children bread again.”

Yet the pause has not fixed the deeper wounds. The World Health Organization has issued a stark plea: the inflow of aid is still far below what is needed. While the WHO has helped evacuate nearly 7,800 patients from Gaza since the war began, it estimates roughly 15,000 people still need advanced medical care outside the territory — a figure that includes about 4,000 children.

“The situation still remains catastrophic because what’s entering is not enough,” WHO Director-General Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus said. Rik Peeperkorn, the WHO’s representative in the Palestinian territories, put it bluntly: only 14 of 36 hospitals in Gaza are even partially functioning for a population that tops two million. At the pace of current evacuations — just 41 patients since the new ceasefire took effect — clearing the backlog could take years.

“Open the medical corridors,” Peeperkorn urged from Geneva. “If crossings were functioning as before the war, we could move hundreds, not dozens, of patients every day. It would be a game-changer.”

Power plays, promises and the politics of reconstruction

There is also a larger political dance taking place. The US administration driving the ceasefire deal is one that has, until recently, pulled back from certain United Nations engagements. Its architects are trying to thread a needle: reassure Israel while persuading Arab states and Muslim-majority countries to engage in a mission that will be watched — and judged — globally.

At the same time, domestic Israeli politics loom. Proposals in the Israeli parliament to advance laws on annexation of parts of the West Bank raised alarm among regional capitals and in Washington. “We don’t think it’s going to happen,” Rubio said of the immediate push to annex territory, a line that hints at quiet diplomatic pressure behind the scenes.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, meeting Rubio, sought to frame the visits as a reaffirmation of friendship. “This is a circle of trust and partnership,” he told reporters, careful to underline the strategic bond between the two countries.

Can an international force answer the moral test?

Ask yourself: what kind of mandate does a stabilisation force need to truly protect civilians? Is peacekeeping the right tool after an offensive that some describe as one of the most destructive in recent memory? And who gets to write the rules — the victims, the victors, or distant capitals?

These are not idle questions. More than 700 people have reportedly died waiting for medical evacuation since the war began. Buildings across Gaza lie in rubble. Millions live amid displaced-person camps and the constant ache of loss. To local civilians, the force is not a matter of geopolitics but of whether their children will awake from nightmares, whether hospitals can treat a fractured arm, whether an elderly patient can receive dialysis.

“We want peace,” said Ahmed, a father of three, as he watched aid trucks crawl slowly toward a nearby crossing. “Not flags or speeches. We want the quiet to last long enough to rebuild a house and plant a tree.”

What happens next?

The coming weeks will be decisive. Will countries rally around a model that balances Israel’s security concerns with the urgent humanitarian needs of Gazans? Will a UN mandate be secured to give participating nations the legal authorization they need? Can the fragile logistics of aid, medicine and evacuations be scaled up fast enough to spare lives?

The answers will tell us more about the international community than about any single ceasefire. They will reveal whether global institutions and alliances can translate diplomatic language into safe passage, functioning hospitals and a real chance for longer-term recovery.

For now, the warehouse continues to flicker with activity: maps overlay maps, lists are updated, and people argue and make concessions in hushed tones. Outside, in Gaza, a child clutches an orange like a small sun. Inside, officials try to stitch together a force that can keep that sun from being eclipsed again.

What would you want to see from the international community if you were in their place: robust boots on the ground guided by community leaders, a strictly monitored air and sea embargo, or a different architecture of peace altogether? The debate is no longer abstract. It is happening in that rented room with the artificial grass, and in streets where families are slowly, tremblingly, beginning to live again.

Wasiir Roobow oo la kulmay madaxweynaha dalka Jabuuti

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October 24, 2025

Nov 24(Jowhar)-Wasiirka Wasaaradda Awqaafta iyo Arrimaha Islaamka Xukuumada Soomaaliya Sheekh Mukhtaar Roobow Abuu-mansuur ayaa la kulmay madaxweynaha dalka Jqbuuti Ismaaciil Cumar Geelle.