Tatiana Schlossberg, granddaughter of President John F. Kennedy, passes away at 35

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December 31, 2025

Tatiana Schlossberg, granddaughter of JFK, dies aged 35 — Tatiana Schlossberg was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia

Tatiana Schlossberg: A Life Measured in Questions, Climate Stories — and a Mother’s Lasting Gaze

There are moments when news arrives like weather: a gray band of cold that settles without warning. The notice that Tatiana Schlossberg had died — at just 35, after a battle with acute myeloid leukemia — landed like that. Her family’s brief, luminous statement posted to the JFK Library Foundation’s Instagram account captured the private, stubborn tenderness of the moment: “Our beautiful Tatiana passed away this morning. She will always be in our hearts.”

That sentence alone feels too small for a life that braided public curiosity with intimate devotion. Tatiana was, by heritage and by choice, tethered to many worlds: the Kennedy family’s Washington orbit; the rigorous, sometimes lonely craft of environmental reporting; the messy centripetal force of family life. She worked as a science and climate reporter for The New York Times, wrote for The Atlantic and Vanity Fair, and in 2019 published a prize-winning book, Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have. Yet the ledger of her accomplishments tells only part of the story.

From a Postpartum Blood Count to a New Reality

Her illness was not something she carried in secret. In a November essay for The New Yorker, Tatiana laid out the anatomy of the diagnosis with outraged clarity and luminous tenderness. Doctors flagged an unusually high white blood cell count after the birth of her second child in May 2024. That simple clinical flicker — a lab value — led to a cascade no one expected.

“During the latest clinical trial, my doctor told me that he could keep me alive for a year, maybe,” she wrote. “My first thought was that my kids, whose faces live permanently on the inside of my eyelids, wouldn’t remember me.” The line reads like a flashlight under the door: the small, animal terror of a parent making a bargain with time.

Acute myeloid leukemia (AML) is, in clinical terms, a harsh and fast-moving disease. It is relatively rare — incidence in the United States is on the order of a few cases per 100,000 people each year — but it is also the most common acute leukemia in adults. Survival statistics vary widely by age, treatment, and disease subtype; overall five-year survival in many studies remains under 40 percent, though young patients who can access aggressive therapies sometimes fare better. Those numbers, cold and impersonal, do not capture what Tatiana’s writing did: the day-to-day arithmetic of keeping small humans in mind while your body argues with itself.

Reporting the Planet — and the Personal

Tatiana’s work lived in the liminal spaces of modern journalism, where data meets the human heart. She explored the invisible footprints of ordinary choices — the hidden carbon costs of our routines — and aimed to translate complexity into actionable empathy. Her book, Inconspicuous Consumption, was both a map and a mirror, asking readers to look at how everyday life collides with planetary limits.

“She had that rare reporter’s instinct,” a former colleague told me, asking not to be named. “Tatiana could sit with a spreadsheet and find a story about a person. She never wrote climate doom without a door open — a person you could imagine sitting across from you.”

Those doors sometimes opened onto terrible ironies. From a hospital bed, Tatiana watched a family member’s public ascent into the very apparatus she had spent years defending. In her New Yorker piece she wrote of seeing Robert F. Kennedy Jr. confirmed as health secretary: “I watched from my hospital bed as Bobby, in the face of logic and common sense, was confirmed for the position, despite never having worked in medicine, public health, or the government.” Her words were not merely political; they were the lament of someone who had trusted science in her work and now felt the institutions she respected bending under political pressure.

Family: A Compass in the Storm

Tatiana was the daughter of Edwin Schlossberg, a designer, and Caroline Kennedy, the diplomat and diplomat’s daughter; she moved through rooms where the past could feel like instruction and obligation. But those rooms did not define her. She chose the often-difficult beat of environmental reporting because she believed that curiosity, coupled with rigorous evidence, could change how we live.

She is survived by her husband, Dr. George Moran, and their two children. The image Tatiana offered in her writing — of her children’s faces living “permanently on the inside of my eyelids” — is painfully specific and universally recognizable. It is the small litany parents recite in their heads at night; it is the constellation that makes risk intolerable.

What Her Passing Asks of Us

Deaths like this are private and public at once. They are private for the family that must gather beneath the ache; they become public because Tatiana’s life and work engaged with civic questions — how we feed ourselves, how we power our lives, how we care for one another in times of crisis. Her critique of vaccine access and research funding — voiced from a place of personal urgency — is part of a larger conversation about how societies prioritize health.

If Tatiana’s last months made anything clear, it is that the systems we trust — hospitals, research programs, public-health infrastructure — require vigilance. Around the world, scientific institutions have been strained by political interference, funding swings, and public distrust. The human toll of those forces, sometimes invisible in policy memos, becomes painfully visible in bedside conversations.

Remembrance and Reckoning

For many readers, Tatiana’s passing will be catalogued alongside her reporting: a life spent teaching us that small choices matter and that the language of data can be tender. For others, she will remain a member of the Kennedy family roster — a lineage that has, for a century, occupied an outsized place in American imagination. For those who knew her, she was simply Tatiana: a mother pacing a hospital room; a friend with clear opinions; a colleague who could make complex problems feel human-sized.

“She had a clarity that could be startling,” another writer who collaborated with her remembered. “Tatiana could cut through the noise and say, ‘This is what matters — and here’s why.’”

How do we carry forward the work of someone who thought so hard about stewardship and responsibility? Perhaps by refusing to reduce her legacy to a single label. She was a reporter, a daughter, a wife, a mother, an author, and a citizen furious at threats to science. She leaves behind the kind of work that invites action: essays that instruct, investigations that nudge policy, and conversations that spread like ripples.

Questions for the Reader

When a journalist who has spent her life measuring the planet’s stresses dies young, what do we owe her? Is it enough to post a sympathy and move on, or is there a duty to carry the questions she raised into our daily choices and our civic life?

Tatiana’s life was an argument against smallness of spirit: an insistence that our private acts are not insignificant and that grief, curiosity, and commitment can live together. If we are to honor that, let us read her work, learn from her reporting, and, where possible, step into the messy work of caring for the commons.

Her family’s simple declaration — “She will always be in our hearts” — is both elegy and charge. We will miss her voice on the page. We will, I hope, answer the questions she kept asking the rest of us.

Mamdani to become New York’s mayor amid Trump’s looming influence

By

hanad

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December 31, 2025

Mamdani to take over as New York mayor under Trump shadow — Zohran Mamdami has promised an ambitious agenda which includes universal childcare and rent freezes

Midnight in an Empty Station: A New Mayor, a New Chapter for New York

There was a hush when the clock struck midnight. Not the cinematic silence of a city that never sleeps, but the intimate, breath-held pause of people gathered beneath a trainless tunnel—an abandoned subway platform lit by salvage lamps and the glow of smartphones. Zohran Mamdani, 34, took his oath there, swearing in as New York City’s first Muslim mayor. The choice of venue—raw, unadorned, unmistakably urban—was not spectacle so much as signal.

“This is for the people who clean the platforms, bake the bread, sit two to a kitchen in Queens,” Mamdani said later, his voice still carrying the gravelly edge of someone who came up through canvassing and late-night neighborhood meetings. “If we don’t start at the places the city has forgotten, our promises won’t be worth anything.”

About 8.5 million people call this city home. It is a tapestry of languages, faiths and cuisines; a place where block parties run together down Broadway, where halal cart steam mingles with the sweet smoke of Jamaican patties. That everyday life—that constant choreography of transit, school drop-offs, and rent checks—was the audience Mamdani had in mind as he campaigned on bold, disruptive fixes: rent freezes, universal childcare and the radical idea of free public buses for all New Yorkers.

Why an Abandoned Platform?

The stage was chosen deliberately. “Symbolism only goes so far,” said Ana Rivera, a community organizer from Jackson Heights who was at the midnight ceremony. “But this—this felt honest. We live under the same city. He put it in a place where we live our lives.”

For a mayor who spent much of the campaign talking about the cost of living—about the families who are spending bigger shares of their incomes on rent and childcare—the venue was shorthand. It was a pledge to prioritize the working city over the glamour of the mayor’s mansion.

Still, practical questions hover. Mayor’s aides say security concerns required Mamdani to move into the official residence in Manhattan; he will leave behind his rent-controlled apartment in Queens, a fact that has irked some voters who saw his modest home life as a testament to his platform.

Public Promises, Private Pressure

Mamdani’s agenda reads like a manifesto for a city under financial strain. Rent freezes, an expansion of subsidized childcare, and fare-free buses would be expensive and politically combustible. New York’s transit system—the MTA—moves millions of riders daily. Any shift to free buses or widespread fare reform would have ripple effects on budgets, operations, and regional politics.

“People are hungry for change,” said Dr. Lina Ahmed, an urban policy scholar at CUNY. “But adjusting the levers of a city this big requires an extraordinary mix of municipal creativity, state cooperation and federal partnerships. It’s doable—but it’s not a simple line-item in a speech.”

Consider the numbers. Roughly one in three New Yorkers is housing-cost burdened—spending more than 30% of their income on rent—and the city’s shelter system still houses tens of thousands of people every night. These are not abstract statistics; they are the experiences of neighbors who skip medicine to pay the rent, who juggle three jobs and watch their kids grow up faster than they can breathe.

Between Washington and City Hall

If the crucible for any mayor is a mix of policy and politics, Mamdani faces an unusual set of both. His relationship with the federal government—particularly with former President Donald Trump, who remains a central political figure—already has headlines. Trump derided Mamdani during the campaign and even threatened to yank federal aid. Yet the pair sat down in November for a surprisingly cordial meeting at the White House.

“It was short, but it wasn’t a shouting match,” said Lincoln Harris, a veteran political strategist who watched the exchange. “That could be a doorway to cooperation—or the beginning of a very public feud.”

One likely flashpoint is immigration enforcement. With federal raids increasing in some parts of the country and save-the-date threats about withholding funding, Mamdani has vowed to stand with immigrant communities. That will test his relationships with federal authorities and his ability to protect residents while navigating legal and fiscal realities.

Building a Coalition—From Queens to Wall Street

Mamdani’s rise was meteoric. A year ago he was practically unknown. He came through the New York State Assembly, heaviest on ideas and light on the kind of resume older politicians brandish. To compensate, he has stocked his team with experienced aides—from former mayoral offices and even from the Biden administration—people who know budgets, blizzards and the 3 a.m. calls that keep a city functioning.

“We need bridges,” said Jacob Rosen, a small business owner on Bedford Avenue. “If he can talk to my landlord and then to a bank, he can do a lot.”

Business leaders warned of a capital exodus if Mamdani won; that claim turned into a self-fulfilling narrative in some conservative outlets. Yet many real estate analysts say an immediate mass flight of the wealthy is unlikely—New York’s economy is too complex, its ecosystems too interconnected. Instead, the mayor’s real test will be whether he can halt slow attrition: the steady, quiet departures of middle-income families priced out of neighborhoods.

Balancing Acts

Mamdani’s commitment to Palestinian rights has also stirred debate and concern in the Jewish community, particularly in a city with a large and diverse Jewish population. The resignation of a recent hire after revelations of past anti-Semitic posts underscored the delicate tightrope the mayor must walk: standing firm on human rights while actively and visibly reaffirming inclusivity and safety for all communities.

“Leadership in New York requires empathy and clarity,” said Rabbi Miriam Katz of a Brooklyn synagogue. “We welcome a mayor who protects our neighbors and also condemns hate when it appears.”

What Will Success Look Like?

Voters who elected Mamdani signed up for big thinking. But big thinking needs to be met with metrics, timetables and the gritty work of governance. How quickly can a rent freeze be implemented legally? How will childcare be funded sustainably? Can fare reforms be rolled out without crippling the MTA?

“Symbolism was the campaign,” said Elena Ramos, an NYU lecturer. “Now comes administration. If he can reduce the number of families spending half their paycheck on housing, if he can expand childcare so a parent can go to work without fear, then people will say he delivered.”

Those are high bars. But New York has a history of improbable comebacks: subway lines reopened, neighborhoods reimagined, laws changed after years of protest and policy churning. The midnight oath beneath the tiles is both vow and challenge: the city will judge him not on rhetoric but on daily, tangible changes.

In the End, This Is Our City

So what do you want from your city? Safety? Affordability? A cleaner bus? A place where your faith and food and work are not only tolerated but reflected in policy? Zohran Mamdani’s story is, in many ways, a mirror held up to New Yorkers: demanding, hopeful, and impatient for results.

Walking away from the shuttered station, the crowd dispersed into the early hours—coffee shops already wheeling up shutters, a man humming an old Brill Building tune. The block party planned for the following day promised music from every borough, speeches by allies like Senator Bernie Sanders and Representative Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and tens of thousands of people lining Broadway to watch a ceremony on big screens.

“We elected someone who wants to govern for us,” Rivera said, pausing on the corner as a delivery bike zipped by. “Now we see if he can keep his promises.”

What would you ask for if you could ask the mayor one question at midnight beneath an abandoned platform? The answer may determine the shape of this city’s next four years.

PM Hamze discusses Israeli interference in Somalia’s independence with Chinese Ambassador

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hanad

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December 31, 2025

Dec 31 (Jowhar)-The Prime Minister of the Federal Republic of Somalia, Mr. Hamze Abdi Barre, today received in his office the Ambassador of the People’s Republic of China to Somalia, Mr. Wang Yu, and discussed ways to jointly address Israel’s blatant interference in the territorial sovereignty of the Republic of Somalia and defend the interests of the two countries based on security and political cooperation.

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Thailand Frees 18 Cambodian Soldiers Held in Custody Since July

By

hanad

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December 31, 2025

Thailand releases 18 Cambodian soldiers held since July — Cambodian soldiers, who had been captured by Thai soldiers in July, gesture to well-wishers from a bus after their release

When a Border Finally Quieted: Soldiers Returned, but a Fragile Peace Lingers

The morning the 18 Cambodian soldiers stepped across the checkpoint back toward Phnom Penh, there was an odd mix of relief and exhaustion writ across faces on both sides of the Thai-Cambodian frontier. After weeks of artillery duels, drone sorties and tank movements that had turned sleepy border hamlets into emptied shells, the small procession felt less like victory than a delicate stitch in a garment that has been coming apart for decades.

<p”Today, we returned 18 of our neighbors to their families,” said a Thai foreign ministry official in a low, almost hesitant voice. “The release is a demonstration of goodwill and a modest confidence-building step.” The phrasing was formal but the scene at the checkpoint was quietly human: uniforms swapped for hugs, hands wiping damp cheeks, old women bringing plates of rice cakes as if to feed away the trauma.

The Numbers Behind the Headlines

Official counts remain messy, but the scale of the human fallout is unmistakable. The renewed clashes earlier this month killed dozens, and aid agencies estimate that more than one million people were displaced from villages along the roughly 800-kilometre (about 500-mile) Thai-Cambodian border. Families fled with nothing but what they could carry—children, a few photos, a pot. Markets closed. Rice paddies grew quiet under a haze of uncertainty.

The truce, which has held for more than three days at the time of writing, includes promises to stop firing, halt troop movements and launch joint demining operations across disputed sections of the frontier. Leaders on both sides have also pledged to allow residents back into their homes as soon as security can be guaranteed.

Why the Fighting Flares Again

This is not a new story. The flashpoint is a colonial-era border demarcation that left lines on maps that communities have disputed for generations. Around the most contentious spots—ancient temple ruins that both sides claim as part of their cultural patrimony—soldiers have squared off for years. The site most often named in past disputes is the 11th-century Hindu temple Perched On Cliff—known internationally as Preah Vihear—and similar ruins dot the frontier, turning archaeology into geopolitics.

“These are not simply lines on a map,” said a Southeast Asia security analyst, Dr. Anan Chai. “They are the bones of identity for people on both sides. When leaders play up nationalism, local tensions can explode into very lethal encounters.”

Captured Soldiers, A Test of Trust

Cambodia says its troops were seized on 29 July—nearly eight hours after a ceasefire intended to halt a prior round of violence had taken effect. The prior truce had been brokered with help from international mediators, including delegations from the United States, China and Malaysia, who have periodically stepped in to cool this simmering conflict.

“We received word that our men were being handed over. There was no fanfare—just men stepping into custody and then walking home,” said a Cambodian provincial official, eyes tired but steady. “For many families, this is closure. But it is a fragile closure.”

International mediators had urged Thailand to release the soldiers as part of earlier agreements. Promises made in diplomatic communiqués are helpful, analysts say, but words must be backed by sustained action on the ground—particularly the removal of mines, which have maimed or killed troops and civilians alike.

Lives Disrupted: Stories from the Border

In a displaced persons camp beneath a strip of rusting corrugated iron, a woman named Sokha pinned a child’s drawing to a tarp wall and laughed briefly through tears. “We left with our baby and our chickens. We could not pick up the rice—there was gunfire,” she said. “The children ask when the quiet will come. How do I tell them?”

Nearby, a Thai rice farmer, Somchai, cradled an old bicycle as if it were a relic. “We’ve shared water and seeds across this river for generations,” he said. “Now a line on paper tells us to hate one another. It’s painful. We want the scholars to finish the border marking so we can return to ploughing.” His voice was flat with two months of fear and two centuries of history.

What Joint Demining Might Mean

One of the more tangible elements of the ceasefire is a pledge to cooperate on demining. Landmines are a slow, indiscriminate menace that linger long after guns fall silent. Clearing them will be costly, technical and time-consuming, but it is also something that directly protects civilians and could allow agriculture and trade to resume.

“Demining is practical confidence-building,” said Mei-Lin Tan, a humanitarian demining specialist who has worked across Southeast Asia. “It shows that both governments are willing to accept risk for the benefit of civilians. But the process must be transparent and involve local communities to have lasting impact.”

What Comes Next?

The truce is a necessary breathing space, not an endgame. Political leaders will have to negotiate the thornier question: how exactly to demarcate the border where maps and memories disagree. That process will test institutions, international goodwill and the patience of people who have already suffered a great deal.

Regional diplomacy will likely continue to involve outside powers—neighbors and global players who have an interest in stability in Southeast Asia. But for people under the tarps, in the ruined marketplaces, in the temple shadows, international delegations feel abstract. What they need most is safe return, livelihood recovery and guarantees that a child will not lose a leg to a forgotten mine.

“We do not want parades of diplomats here,” said a 62-year-old villager who gave his name only as Mr. Vann. “We want our rice fields back and our children to go to school without fear.”

Reflection: Borders, Identity and the Human Cost

Reading headlines from afar, it is easy to see this as another border scuffle—an arc on a map, another temporary truce. But walk these roads, listen to the laughter and worry in the camps, and the contours of the conflict change. It becomes a story of people bound to place, of temples that mean more than tourism brochures, and of maps that can take a lifetime to redraw.

Are we comfortable with conflicts that flare up because of century-old maps? How much global attention do we owe to places that don’t appear on prime-time broadcasts, even when a million people are displaced? The answer matters, not only to Bangkok and Phnom Penh, but to any nation where borders are both identity and instrument.

For now, the checkpoint where the soldiers crossed back home sits quiet. Children chase a battered football. An old radio plays a country song somewhere down the road. The truce holds, cautiously. The hard work—mapping, demining, reparations and real reconciliation—begins now.

RW Xamze oo Safiirka Shiinaha kala hadlay faragalinta Israel ee madax banaanida Soomaaliya

By

aden

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December 31, 2025

Dec 31(Jowhar)-Ra’iisul Wasaaraha Xukuumadda Jamhuuriyadda Federaalka Soomaaliya, Mudane Xamze Cabdi Barre, ayaa maanta xafiiskiisa ku qaabilay Danjiraha Jamhuuriyadda Dadka Shiinaha u qaabilsan Soomaaliya, Mudane Wang Yu, iyaga oo ka wada- hadlay sidii meel looga soo wada jeesan lahaa faragelinta qaawan ee Isra’iil ku qaaday madax-bannaanida dhuleed ee Jamhuuriyadda Soomaaliya iyo difaaca danaha labada dal ee ku dhisan iskaashiga amniga iyo siyaasadda.

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Postwar Liberal International Order Is Collapsing — Don’t Blame Trump Alone

By

hanad

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December 31, 2025

Post-war liberal order is dead but don't just blame Trump — US President Donald Trump turns his back on the post-war liberal order

The Year the Rules Fell Silent

There are years that hum along like a familiar song, and then there are years that sound a different tune altogether — dissonant, jagged, impossible to ignore. 2025 will be remembered by many as one of those years. Walking through capital cities from Brussels to Bangkok, you could feel it in the air: the polite assumptions that guided international life after 1945 — mutual defense, predictable alliances, shared trade rules — were fraying in real time.

Imagine a library where the great volumes of post-war diplomacy have begun to collect dust. The signatures on those pages — treaties, institutions, norms — remain, but their authority has grown thin. And, like readers leaving one by one, the Western-led order that anchored global politics for decades has simply been left with fewer defenders.

Where the Old Script Began to Unravel

What pulled at these threads? Partly it was domestic: a politics of grievance that had been simmering in industrial towns and small cities for decades. Factories moved. Paychecks got squeezed. Trust in institutions ebbed. “People started asking a simple question: what did this international order do for me?” said a former diplomat I spoke with in London. “Once that question went unanswered, the rest followed.”

At the international level the signs were unmistakable. The United Nations — born from the wreckage of world war and long the symbol of a cooperative vision — announced steep cuts in 2025, forced to trim almost a fifth of its workforce as member states clawed back funding. A UN official described the moment bluntly: “We’re in a race to bankruptcy.” For many staffers who had spent careers trying to keep humanitarian programmes afloat, the phrase felt like an elegy.

NATO, too, lay under strain. The compact that once bound North America and Europe in mutual defense was being reinterpreted and, to some, quietly cast aside. European leaders, who once took for granted the certainty of American backing, now spoke in the language of contingency. “Prepare to stand alone,” warned a senior German official in a private conversation. The public phrases were sharper: Europe’s foreign ministers made urgent shuttle trips across capitals in search of new guarantees, new partners, even a new grammar of security.

Decisions and Detonations

Then there were the decisions that felt like punctures. Tariffs were slapped on long-standing trading partners. Ambitious rhetoric about expanding borders — from Panama to Greenland — surfaced in bewildering public statements. Naval skirmishes in international waters made headlines, and a White House increasingly comfortable with transactional diplomacy seemed to prefer courting illiberal powers over consoling traditional allies.

A small-business owner in Ohio, who had once voted for openness and trade, told me over coffee: “My town’s been hollowed out. Policies didn’t protect us. Now politicians are telling me they’d put America first — I want to believe it means jobs, not just grandstanding.”

For Europeans, the shock was visceral. At the UN General Assembly the rhetoric turned personal: leaders were chastised openly about migration, climate policy, and “decay.” Public figures in finance piled on — Jamie Dimon, for example, called Europe into question over competitiveness, and media columns followed, wondering whether the old transatlantic compact had outlived its purpose.

Alliances Reframed, Values Recast

What worries many is less the collapse of a set of institutions than the erosion of the values they championed. Human rights, the inviolability of borders, and the idea that the global arena could be governed by rules rather than brute force — these were centuries in the making. Now they are being reframed, challenged, and in some corners, openly rejected.

Beijing and Moscow, long uneasy partners, tightened an axis of convenience in 2025. In a frank exchange, a senior Chinese diplomat told his European counterpart that China “cannot afford” for Russia to falter in its contest with the West — a statement that made many in Brussels wince. Inside international forums, Beijing has pushed a narrative that prioritizes state sovereignty and development over what it calls “Western universals” like individual civil liberties.

At the same time, inside the United States a campaign to strip diversity, equity and inclusion programs from federal institutions and allied organizations created friction with the UN’s human-rights agenda. That clash, seemingly technical to some, struck at the core of what international cooperation had been trying to do for decades: build shared norms around dignity, equality and protection.

Voices from the Ground

“We used to assume the West spoke with one voice,” said an EU diplomat who preferred not to be named. “Now we see different agendas even among allies. It’s not just policy — it’s identity.”

“My family remembers when NATO feel like a promise you could write a cheque on,” said a teacher in Warsaw. “Now the cheque has been returned with a note: ‘Use at your own risk.'”

How Did We Get Here?

Historians remind us that systems crack long before they collapse. The post-1989 moment — when the Iron Curtain fell and many believed “the end of history” had arrived — sowed hubris. Globalization brought incredible growth and lifted millions from poverty, but it also hollowed out communities and concentrated wealth. Policymakers often prioritized capital mobility and corporate interests over working-class stability, and those decisions have political consequences.

“There is a sense of dislocation that didn’t appear overnight,” said an academic specializing in trade and labor. “When domestic policies ignore the social cost of openness, the political backlash is inevitable.”

And when leaders answer that backlash with blunt nationalistic remedies — tariffs, tightened borders, military posturing — the international web that had evolved over decades may not be able to absorb the shock.

So What Comes Next?

There are three broad possibilities, and none are tidy. First, a more fractured world in which regional blocs operate with greater autonomy — Europe hedging, Asia coalescing, the Global South forging new arrangements. Second, a return to renewed, if narrower, cooperation built around pragmatic interests rather than lofty ideals. Or third, a world where might increasingly defines right, and the old rules become relics.

A veteran aid chief I spoke with said: “We shouldn’t mourn an imagined golden age. But we should mourn the decline of institutions that, imperfectly, saved lives and reduced suffering.” His point was simple: institutions are means, not ends, and their erosion has human consequences.

Meanwhile, scholars talk of a “multiplex” system — a patchwork of powers and norms, a world less centered on Washington and Brussels and more shaped by emerging capitals in Asia, Africa and Latin America. “It could be messier, certainly,” said a geopolitical analyst. “But it could also be more representative of a world in which power is not the monopoly of one or two blocs.”

Questions for the Reader

As you scroll through this moment from afar, what do you feel? Alarm? Relief? Something in between? Do you believe the world will reknit itself into new patterns of cooperation — or are we entering an era where the loudest nations write the rules?

There are no easy answers. But there are real lives caught in these shifts: aid budgets that dry up, soldiers on increasingly uncertain alliances, workers in towns where factories closed and never returned. If the post-war liberal order is indeed giving way, then what replaces it will be the work of policymakers and citizens alike. It will be argument, negotiation, and, crucially, the willingness to protect the vulnerable rather than scores of interests alone.

The old volumes are still on the shelf. Whether we open them with care, tear out pages, or write new chapters is up to us. The question is urgent: what kind of world do you want to wake up to tomorrow?

Madaxweyne Xasan oo shaaciyay Saddex arrin oo Israel kaga bedelatay Somaliland Aqoonsiga

By

aden

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December 31, 2025

Dec 31(Jowhar)-Madaxweynaha Soomaaliya, Xasan Sheekh Maxamuud ayaa soo bandhiggay Saddex dalab oo ay Israel ka heshay Somaliland si ay usiiso aqoonsi.

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Israel signals move to bar 37 humanitarian groups from Gaza

By

hanad

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December 31, 2025

Israel threatens to bar 37 aid groups from Gaza — MSF has said the humanitarian crisis in Gaza is deepening

A Deadline at Dawn: When Aid Workers Become the Story

The sun rises hard and merciless over Gaza, bleaching the tarpaulins that pass for roofs, the patchwork of tents that keep families out of the rubble. At dawn, a convoy of ambulances—if there are any left with fuel—winds past a playground that no longer sees children at play. In a small, crowded clinic, a nurse pins her hair back and whispers to a colleague, “If they shut MSF out, we will be patching wounds with hope.”

Tomorrow, Israeli authorities have warned, could be the day dozens of international aid groups are told their work is no longer permitted in Gaza and parts of the occupied West Bank. The deadline is framed as a security measure: provide full staff lists or lose registration. For people already counting on every syringe, every convoy, every doctor who still shows up, the stakes feel existential.

What’s at Risk

Among the organisations facing expulsion is Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), the aid group that — according to its own figures — treated nearly half a million people over the two-year span of conflict. “If we are prevented from operating, hundreds of thousands will be deprived of essential medical care,” MSF warned publicly this week. That is not abstraction; it is a ledger of life and death: maternity wards where Caesarean sections are scarce, insulin-dependent patients running low, trauma units barely holding.

It is not just MSF. Israeli military coordination body COGAT has said up to 37 aid organisations could be stripped of registration unless they hand over personnel details to the Diaspora Affairs Ministry. Those ministries say the information is needed to prevent the infiltration of militants into humanitarian organisations. The Diaspora Affairs Ministry has said some individuals affiliated with NGOs have alleged ties to militant groups — claims the NGOs dispute and describe as unproven.

On the Ground: Voices and Fears

“We’ve been living in tents for months. The clinic is our lifeline,” says Mariam, a 34-year-old mother of three, waiting outside a makeshift health post in southern Gaza. “They (the aid groups) are the ones who bring the medicines my children need. I don’t understand why lists should matter to us.”

Shaina Low, a spokesperson for the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC), said bluntly: “At a time when needs in Gaza far exceed available services, forcing NGOs out or preventing them from importing supplies is tantamount to rolling back the humanitarian response.” The NRC warned that it could be forced to close its East Jerusalem office and lose the ability to bring in foreign staff — a blow to coordination and to any relief beyond what local procurement can supply. The NRC currently employs roughly 200 local staff and 35 international personnel across Gaza and the occupied West Bank.

In Gaza’s narrow streets, people talk in small, urgent knots. “We depend on international aid because local shops are empty or overpriced,” a pharmacist in Gaza City told me. “If only local procurement is allowed, we will see shortages and price hikes. That harms ordinary people.”

Security, Sovereignty, or Something Else?

From Jerusalem’s perspective, the demand for names is about control and prevention. “We have an obligation to safeguard our citizens,” an Israeli official said in a statement last week, calling for transparency from organisations working in areas that have been active theaters of conflict. COGAT has also emphasized that some 4,200 aid trucks continue to enter Gaza every week through the UN, donor nations, private sector partners, and more than 20 NGOs that have been re-registered.

But for humanitarians, privacy is protection. “Sharing employee names with authorities who may be party to the conflict creates real risks for staff and their families,” Bushra Khalidi, Oxfam’s policy lead in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, said. “It undermines confidentiality and could expose people to reprisals.” Oxfam and others also warn that being forced to rely only on local procurement — no imports, no international staff — effectively dismantles the international humanitarian system that stepped in when local markets and health systems failed.

What the Numbers Tell Us

Consider the arithmetic of emergency medicine. MSF says it cared for nearly 500,000 people across Gaza during two years of hostilities. The NRC has around 235 staff on the ground between Gaza and the West Bank. COGAT’s figure of 4,200 aid trucks weekly is not trivial — it represents hundreds of thousands of kilograms of food, medical supplies, fuel, and construction materials. Strip away some of the organisations that coordinate and deliver those supplies, and the entire chain frays.

International responses are trickling in. The British Foreign Office, joined by France, Canada, and other partners, urged Israel to allow NGOs to operate consistently and predictably, citing concerns about the humanitarian situation in Gaza. Humanitarian law and principles — neutrality, impartiality, and independence — are being invoked in corridors far from Gaza’s battered hospitals.

Beyond the Headlines: Cultural Threads and Human Detail

Walk a few blocks from the clinics and you will hear, as you always do in any Palestinian neighborhood, the familiar cadence of life: the call to prayer from a nearby mosque, the hiss of tea being poured into tiny glasses, the elderly man who insists on sharing a piece of flatbread with a stranger. Hospitality persists even here, even when the shelves are empty.

Local aid workers bring a different kind of intimacy to relief. A community organizer named Ahmed described to me the logistics of maintaining trust: “We know every family on our street. They know us. If a foreign NGO leaves, that human bridge will be gone.” He paused and added, “People don’t just need food. They need someone who listens.”

Questions We Should Be Asking

How do you balance legitimate national security concerns with the absolute urgency of saving lives? Can a state ask for information that could, if mishandled, put people at risk? And where does the responsibility lie when international humanitarian systems — built to be impartial — are asked to accommodate political and security priorities?

These are not theoretical queries. They are questions that decide whether a child with a fever will be seen before it becomes meningitis, whether a pregnant woman will get the surgery she needs, whether a small, dedicated clinic will have the oxygen canisters that keep patients alive.

Looking Forward: Fragile Hope

For now, some NGOs have been re-registered and continue their work; some supplies keep coming. COGAT’s 4,200 trucks weekly is a lifeline. But a 60-day window has been mentioned for those who do not comply, and in emergency response, 60 days is an eternity and a death sentence.

There are no easy answers. Security and humanitarian imperatives clash in an environment where mistrust is abundant and options are scarce. But perhaps the smallest gestures matter most: a nurse who keeps her clinic open until midnight, a driver who delivers a crate of antibiotics through checkpoints, an aid coordinator who negotiates a corridor of safe passage.

As you read this from wherever you are, ask yourself: what does accountability look like when lives hang in the balance? And what would you do if your nearest hospital was reliant on a list of names to stay open? The answers will help shape not just policy papers in faraway capitals, but whether a family in Gaza wakes up to another day.

Soomaaliya oo la safatay Sucuudiga, kana hor-timid Imaaraatka Carabta

By

aden

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December 31, 2025

Dec 31(Jowhar)-Dowladda Federaalka ah ayaa xalay sii daysay bayaan ku qoran luqad adag oo dublumaasiyadeed kaas oo ay ku taageertay siyaasadda iyo hoggaaminta Boqortooyada Sucuudiga ee arrimaha dalka Yemen.

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United States Says It Struck Venezuelan Dock Used by Drug Smugglers

By

hanad

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December 31, 2025

US claims it struck dock for drug boats in Venezuela — A US military drone (File picture)

When the Sea Exploded: A Shoreline Story of Drugs, Diplomacy and Deepening Doubt

It was a sound that did not belong to the rhythm of the Venezuelan coast — a distant boom that swallowed the night and left fishermen counting their boats as if inventorying lives. News of a U.S. strike that “knocked out” a docking area used by alleged drug-running vessels began as a terse presidential line delivered from Mar‑a‑Lago, and by morning it had spread into an argument about sovereignty, the rule of law, and the shadow wars of interdiction.

“At first we thought it was thunder,” said Ana Ricardo, a 42‑year‑old fisherwoman from a small village outside Maracaibo. “Then everyone ran to the shore. The smell — like burnt rubber and diesel — stayed with us for hours. We are tired of breaking the days between fear and hunger.”

Tonight’s Blast—A Fragmentary Account

President Donald Trump told reporters that U.S. forces had “hit all the boats” and destroyed an “implementation area” along a shoreline where drug shipments were loaded. He would not specify whether the operation was military or carried out by the Central Intelligence Agency; U.S. media outlets later reported that sources familiar with the matter told CNN and The New York Times the CIA had launched a drone strike on a port facility.

According to those reports, the target was connected to Tren de Aragua, a sprawling Venezuelan criminal network whose reach has reportedly extended from prisons to informal border economies. Officials said no casualties were reported at the site because the docks had been empty at the time of the strike.

But absolute certainty remains out of reach. The Venezuelan government offered no immediate official comment, the Pentagon referred questions to the White House, and U.S. officials were tight‑lipped on location and operational detail. In the absence of transparent confirmation, the air filled with competing narratives.

What we do know — and what we must treat as unresolved

The U.S. president publicly confirmed an attack on a shore facility used in alleged drug trafficking.
U.S. outlets reported the CIA conducted a drone strike; those reports cite unnamed sources.
There were reportedly no casualties at the targeted docks.
The U.S. military announced an additional maritime strike in the eastern Pacific that it said killed two people, bringing its reported maritime campaign total to at least 107 dead.

Voices on the Ground

On the windswept spit at the mouth of the Gulf, locals have grown adept at turning disaster into story. “I have seen the coast change more in one year than in ten,” said José Alvarez, a second‑generation boat builder in Zulia. “The sea gives and the sea takes, but now strangers take on the sea. Planes, drones — they are new weather.”

An NGO volunteer distributing water to displaced families described the scene with weary clarity: “You can’t separate the drugs issue from the collapse of institutions. People turn to informal economies because formal ones have disappeared. When a strike happens, the ones who lose are not the big men — they are the wives who lose a day’s fish.”

Back in Washington, one retired legal adviser to the Pentagon—speaking on condition of anonymity—said, “These operations are being framed as law enforcement at sea, but the line between law enforcement and military action on foreign soil is legally thin. The administration believes it’s disrupting supply chains. Critics warn it could violate international law.”

The Moral and Legal Ledger

The strikes in the Caribbean Sea and eastern Pacific that Washington has conducted since September are controversial not only for their lethality but because they are carried out largely without public evidence of wrongdoing, according to human rights groups and some international law scholars. Several organizations have flagged the maritime campaign as raising grave questions about extrajudicial killings and sovereignty.

“When a state uses force in another state’s territory without consent and without judicial process, it enters legally fraught territory,” said Dr. Helena Moretti, an international law scholar at the Atlantic Institute. “There are avenues under self‑defense and consent, but these operations often lack the transparency required to justify such exceptions.”

That opacity has consequences beyond the courtroom. It shapes narratives about who is attacking whom, feeds recruitment myths for criminal organizations, and can harden popular anger. It also leaves families and communities in limbo — uncertain whether the looming drones are their protectors or the next danger.

Numbers that Matter

Data and statistics are the ballast in this storm of rhetoric. The U.S. military announced that the maritime campaign had resulted in at least 107 deaths from strikes it claims targeted drug smuggling operations. Meanwhile, the UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) and other agencies have been tracking shifting smuggling routes and rising flows of cocaine through the Caribbean and Central America, though precise figures on interdicted tons versus produced supply vary year to year.

Experts warn that interdictions alone rarely change global supply. “You can sink boats and seize shipments, but unless demand and the production economies are addressed, the market adapts,” said Professor Miguel Torres, a drug policy expert. “We need a strategy that combines interdiction with development, strong courts, and regional diplomacy.”

Local Color and the Everyday Stakes

To understand the stakes, you must imagine a Sunday market in a coastal town: plantains sizzling on a makeshift grill, a radio playing salsa, children chasing a dog between baskets of cassava. In places where state services have receded, informal economies — some illicit, some not — become the fabric of daily life. Dockside crew who once mended nets now take jobs moving opaque cargo; boatyards that once built casitas for festivals are repurposed into quick, utilitarian docks.

“We are musicians, not smugglers,” laughed Rafael, a makeshift bandleader whose terraza is a popular stop for sailors. His laugh was a shield for a more guarded reality: “If you are hungry, you take what work you can get. It is not pride. It is survival.”

Why this matters beyond Venezuela

When a powerful country carries out actions along another country’s littoral in the name of counter‑drug operations, the reverberations are global. The strike raises questions about the rule of law, the political uses of force, and the effectiveness of single‑minded interdiction strategies. It also spotlights the tangled connections between corruption, porous borders, economic collapse, and organized crime.

And it asks an unsettling question: do quick, kinetic strikes provide a durable answer to a problem rooted in demand, poverty, and weak governance? Or do they simply push trafficking routes and fuel cycles of violence that cost more in blood and trust than they ever remove from the market?

Where Do We Go From Here?

Policymakers in Washington and capitals across Latin America face a stark choice. They can double down on remote strikes and risk legal blowback and local resentment, or they can invest in the slower, messier work: judicial reform, economic opportunity, anti‑corruption measures, and regional cooperation that is not perceived as coercion.

“We cannot bomb our way into stability,” said Dr. Moretti. “If operations continue, they must come with oversight, accountability, and clear multilateral frameworks.”

For the people on the shoreline, these debates are not abstract. They are about children who will sleep through the boom, fishermen who will count their nets, and small towns that will decide whether to welcome development or fear the next drone.

So ask yourself: when you hear of a strike that claims to close a drug corridor, do you imagine a headline ending a story — or the beginning of another chapter we have not yet learned to read? The answer will shape not just the coasts of Venezuela, but the kind of global order we want to live in.