Sept 17 (Jowhar)-Ra’iisul wasaare Xamse oo kormeeray xarunta dhexe ee hay’adda socdaalka iyo garoonka Diyaradaha Adan Cadde ee magalada Muqdisho.
How did the UN commission reach its finding of genocide?
A verdict that reverberates: what the UN inquiry means for Gaza — and for all of us
There is a moment in conflict reporting when numbers stop being numbers. When the tally of dead, the strip of blackened roofs, the queue for water — when those things finally have faces. You can see it in the woman who has to give birth in a tent because the hospital has been reduced to a skeleton of concrete; in the father who refuses to bury his child until he can find a proper grave; in the child who counts aircraft like birds. That is the human texture behind the cold, legal language now being used by an independent UN commission: the word “genocide.”
In a report that is as blunt as it is consequential, the Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory, including East Jerusalem, and Israel — a body set up by the United Nations in May 2021 — concluded that Israel has committed and continues to commit acts that amount to genocide against Palestinians in Gaza. The finding has jolted diplomats, activists, and ordinary people around the world. But what does it mean on the ground, and what might it compel the international community to do?
How the commission reached its conclusion
The commission approached the question the way forensic investigators might — by assembling testimony, open-source material, clinical reports, satellite imagery, and media accounts, then testing those against the legal framework of the 1948 Genocide Convention. That convention outlines five acts that, if carried out with intent to destroy a national, ethnical, racial, or religious group, may amount to genocide.
“This isn’t rhetorical flourish. It’s a structured legal analysis,” explained Professor Shane Darcy of the Irish Centre for Human Rights, who has followed the inquiry closely. “The commission took each element of the Convention and asked whether the evidence met the threshold. That’s painstaking, and it matters.”
Their judgement was not taken lightly. The inquiry examined the period from October 2023 onward and catalogued incidents and policies that, it says, fall into four of the Convention’s five genocidal acts: killings; causing serious bodily or mental harm; deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about a group’s physical destruction; and imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group.
To put that in concrete terms, the report points to mass and targeted killings, repeated attacks on hospitals and maternity wards, the destruction of water and sanitation systems, and the effective collapse of reproductive health services — including the partial or total destruction of fertility treatment facilities and the absence of adequate obstetric care. The commission cites a dramatic rise in miscarriages and the repeated necessity for women to give birth in unsafe, makeshift environs.
Evidence, witnesses and the limits of words
The commission relied heavily on eyewitness testimony — from doctors describing operating theatres without power, to families recounting the loss of entire branches of their kin. “We listened to survivors, medical personnel, and legal experts,” said a member of the inquiry in a briefing. “We cross-referenced accounts. We mapped damage. And then we measured that mapping against the Convention.”
That process is, crucially, different from political advocacy. It aims to reach a legal assessment that can be used by courts, by states, and by other institutions. But, as Professor Darcy and other legal scholars stress, such reports cannot, by themselves, stop a conflict. They are instruments intended to shape what happens next — prosecutions, sanctions, or shifts in foreign policy.
Voices from Gaza — the local color behind the findings
Walk the streets of Gaza City and the language of loss is everywhere: the call to prayer echoing against flattened facades, the smell of cooking fumes from communal kitchens supplying families displaced time and again, the children who recite names instead of grades. “When they flattened the clinic, my neighbour had to deliver her baby on a rug in the dark,” said Noor al-Saleh, a nurse who has worked at makeshift aid stations across northern Gaza. “We are still here, but we are not surviving in any meaningful sense.”
Mohammed, a father of four from Khan Younis, counted through his palms. “We had three houses in our family,” he said. “Now there is one left, half a floor. The children draw planes on the walls and then they draw nowhere else to go.” His voice was small, deliberately so; curfews and fear of surveillance hang over everyday speech.
Those personal accounts are woven into the commission’s record. And while survivors’ stories animate the report, the text deliberately frames them in terms that can meet judicial scrutiny: dates, locations, types of injuries, chains of command.
Legal fallout and the obligations of other states
One of the report’s sharpest edges is not only its finding about acts committed, but its reminder of what international law requires from other countries. States are obliged to prevent and to punish genocide. That means — in theory — withholding assistance that would facilitate genocidal acts, investigating suspected perpetrators, cooperating with judicial bodies like the International Criminal Court, and using political and diplomatic levers to halt the conduct in question.
“There is an obligation to act,” said Dr. Amina Haddad, an international humanitarian law scholar. “Prevention is as critical as prosecution. States that continue to export the weapons used in offensive operations or to provide logistical support may find themselves complicit if they do not exercise due diligence.”
The commission’s report points specifically at arms supplies and calls for sanctions and investigations, framing these as standard enforcement tools under international law — tools used in other crises but not fully applied in this one.
Will this change anything on the ground?
If you are in Gaza today, this new report can feel distant from your immediate needs: clean water, safe shelters, hospitals that function. And that disconnect is stark. Even the most authoritative findings do not, by themselves, stop bullets or bring electricity back on.
“Reports change the conversation,” Professor Darcy told RTÉ, “but they don’t change the actions of a combatant overnight. For that, you need political will from other states.”
That political will is patchy at best. Some nations have signalled greater scrutiny, others have doubled down on support; humanitarian agencies struggle with access and funding. Meanwhile, millions of civilians remain trapped in conditions the commission deems life-threatening. UN agencies and human rights groups estimate that Gaza — a territory of roughly 2.3 million people — has seen tens of thousands killed and hundreds of thousands displaced since October 2023, with entire neighborhoods erased and basic services decimated.
Why this matters to you
Genocide is a legal term with moral weight. When a UN body uses it, the world is asked to pay attention. The report is not designed to satisfy any political constituency; it is designed to compel action under universal law. That raises uncomfortable questions for citizens everywhere: What does our government do when a partner or ally is accused of such crimes? What do we do as individuals when world institutions declare an obligation to prevent and we feel powerless?
Ask yourself: if a body borne of international law says there are grounds for genocide, what should your country do next? Pressure? Sanctions? An alliance to demand access for independent investigators? These are not merely diplomatic puzzles — they are moral decisions about the limits of tolerance for mass human suffering.
Where we go from here
The commission’s finding should be the beginning of a new phase, not the end of conversation. It must be met with measured, lawful responses: rigorous investigations, accountability for alleged perpetrators, protection for civilians, and an urgent, scaled-up humanitarian effort to address the immediate needs in Gaza.
But beyond the legal instruments and the diplomatic choreography, there is the human work: rebuilding health systems, ensuring children can go to school without fear, listening to survivors, and centring their dignity in any response. “We can argue about definitions,” Noor said, looking out over a ruined street, “but when my neighbour cannot find a midwife and a baby dies, the word is only so important. What matters is stopping the next person from dying.”
Reports can point, indict, demand. Yet for many, the crucial question remains: will the world act in time? Or will the verdict be another parchment in a stack of warnings that came too late?
Luxembourg regulator to face questioning over decision on Israel
When finance meets conscience: Luxembourg at the center of a small country’s big decision
On a grey morning in Kirchberg — Luxembourg’s hilltop corridor of glass towers and manicured roundabouts — a cluster of people huddled beneath fluttering flags and homemade placards. Their breath fogged the air. A woman offered hot coffee from a thermos. A young man tuned a guitar and began to play a slow, familiar protest song. It felt like any demonstration the city has hosted: peaceful, determined, humane. What made it different was the target — not a multinational bank or an EU policy — but a technical stamp of approval on a document that, protesters insist, helps bankroll a war far from these quiet streets.
That stamp belongs to the Commission de Surveillance du Secteur Financier, Luxembourg’s financial regulator, known by its French acronym CSSF. Regulators everywhere issue approvals for prospectuses — the dense legal booklets that let sovereigns and corporations sell bonds to investors. But in Europe, where rules allow a prospectus approved in one member state to be marketed across the entire bloc, approval can be like a passport: once stamped, it opens an entire market.
On September 1, Israel shifted the responsibility for authorising its bond prospectuses from the Central Bank of Ireland to the CSSF. That seemingly technical move ignited a political wildfire. Dublin had come under pressure from opposition politicians and protesters who questioned whether Irish institutions should facilitate finance tied to Israel’s military operations in Gaza. Now the spotlight has swung to Luxembourg.
From Dublin’s streets to Luxembourg’s chambers
Tomorrow, lawmakers in Luxembourg will question officials from the CSSF at a committee hearing — a rare, high-stakes grilling for a regulator more accustomed to supervising funds than navigating geopolitics.
“Financial law is often portrayed as neutral, but it transports consequences,” a senior member of the parliamentary finance committee told me. “We need to know who assessed the risks, what legal standards were applied, and whether this runs up against our values as a country.”
Across Europe, the debate has been blunt: do technical, legal processes translate into moral complicity? Protesters answer in the affirmative. “We cannot be part of systems that underwrite violence. Paper turns into bullets; investors buy bonds and the money flows,” said Niamh O’Connell, an activist who traveled from Dublin for the demonstration. “This isn’t abstract — families in Gaza are paying the price.”
Why Luxembourg matters — and why its nod is powerful
Luxembourg is small in population but vast in financial influence. The Grand Duchy is one of Europe’s largest hubs for investment funds and cross-border financial services: thousands of funds, multitrillion-euro assets under management, and a legal and regulatory ecosystem designed to make capital mobile. That reputation is the very reason bond issuers come here.
“When a prospectus is approved by the CSSF, it immediately gains a European reach,” explained a finance lawyer in Luxembourg, speaking on condition of anonymity. “That’s the passporting effect of the EU’s prospectus rules. It’s not only about where the paper is signed — it’s about where the capital can be raised.”
Numbers remind us why the stakes are high. While exact volumes for any single sovereign issuance can fluctuate, sovereign bond markets routinely mobilise hundreds of millions to several billion euros. For countries seeking to diversify funding sources, the difference between a Dublin or Luxembourg clearance can be material.
Protests, politics and the global debate
The Irish Central Bank’s decision to lose the authorisation — whether voluntary or pressured — was influenced by a groundswell of domestic disquiet. In Dublin, opposition MPs and street activists argued that public institutions should not facilitate instruments that could help finance military operations. That argument landed in Luxembourg, where both civil society and politicians have voiced concern.
“People are watching,” said Marcella Lopes, a barista on Avenue John F. Kennedy, where many of the protests have threaded through. “You think of Luxembourg as quiet, neutral. But we’re a crossroads for money. People here are asking: neutral for whom?”
Inside the chamber, the conversation shifts toward governance and legal boundaries. “Our mandate is to enforce EU law and ensure markets function,” a CSSF spokesperson said in a statement prepared for the committee hearing. “We examine prospectuses for compliance with regulatory standards. Political questions are for elected officials.” The duality — regulator as neutral arbiter, public as moral jury — is where much of the tension lies.
Political ripples: recognition of Palestine and a diplomatic backdrop
These financial skirmishes are unfolding against a backdrop of high-stakes diplomacy. Luxembourg’s Prime Minister, Luc Frieden, told reporters he was “99% certain” the country would recognise the State of Palestine, with formal recognition expected during an international conference on the two-state solution in New York next week. If realised, Luxembourg would join a small but vocal subset of EU nations that have moved beyond symbolic statements to formal recognition — a decision that could reshape how the country is perceived internationally.
“Recognition is a political act that carries moral weight,” observed a political analyst in Brussels. “It signals alignment in a conflict that has long polarised international actors. For Luxembourg, which combines financial clout and diplomatic patience, the decision is significant.”
Ask yourself: how do tidy regulatory forms, stamped in pristine offices, intersect with global politics and human lives? The question feels at once practical and metaphysical. Is it acceptable to maintain a strict separation between the mechanics of markets and the moral implications of how that capital is used?
What this says about global finance and accountability
There are broader lessons here. The episode is another example of how financial centres — small states with large capitals — are increasingly caught between legal obligations and public expectations for ethical behaviour. From debates about fossil-fuel financing to gripes over arms sales, investors and regulators are being asked to read markets through a moral lens.
Some propose clear reforms: greater transparency about how sovereign bond proceeds will be used; tighter due diligence standards for approvals; and more explicit guidance from EU institutions on when political sensitivities should inform regulatory decisions. Others warn against conflating legal functions with political choices; they fear ad hoc moral decisions could undercut the predictability that markets demand.
“Money will follow the rules you set,” a compliance officer at a Luxembourg bank told me. “If regulators tighten criteria, issuers will adjust. But we must balance rule-of-law certainty with public ethics. That balance is tricky — and it’s what this country must now debate openly.”
Where this leaves us — and what to watch next
Tomorrow’s committee hearing will not end the debate. It will, however, force an institutional reckoning and place Luxembourg’s choices under a public microscope. Will the CSSF defend its technical judgement? Will politicians press for new guidelines? Will civil society escalate demonstrations? And will Luxembourg’s potential recognition of Palestine change the calculus of how the country’s financial identity is perceived?
These are not abstract worries. They are the living questions of a world where cash and conscience collide. As you read this, think about the next time your bank offers a bond, or your pension fund lists a sovereign issuer. Behind the glossy prospectuses are choices — legal, technical and moral. And in small countries with outsized financial reach, those choices can echo across continents.
Trump Says US Forces Struck Another Venezuelan Drug-Smuggling Vessel
Explosions on the Horizon: Another US Strike, Another Caribbean Churn
It was the kind of video that travels fast in the age of screens: a burst of flame on blue water, smoke curling into the sky, then the blurred shape of a boat, listing, burning. The clip, 30 seconds of grainy spectacle, arrived as a Truth Social post from former President Donald Trump announcing that, on his orders, US forces had carried out a “SECOND Kinetic Strike” on a Venezuelan drug-trafficking vessel in international waters.
“These extremely violent drug trafficking cartels POSE A THREAT to US National Security, Foreign Policy, and vital US Interests,” the post read, after which Mr. Trump said three men were killed in the strike. The post provided no accompanying evidence that the craft was carrying contraband, and the Venezuelan communications ministry did not immediately respond to requests for comment.
What followed was a familiar choreography: a terse presidential declaration, a social media clip, and a region—already raw with migration flows, economic collapse, and highly armed criminal groups—stirring beneath the shadow of jets and warships.
What we know — and what remains unclear
There are confirmed elements and there are declarations that remain unverified. Reported pieces of the puzzle include:
- Statement from Mr. Trump claiming a US strike on a vessel he described as tied to Venezuelan drug cartels; he said three people were killed.
- The strike, he said, took place in international waters within the US Southern Command (SOUTHCOM) area of responsibility.
- A nearly 30-second video showing an explosion and a burning boat was posted along with the statement.
- No public evidence was offered in the post to demonstrate the presence of drugs on the vessel, and Venezuela did not immediately comment.
- The announcement comes as the US military builds up forces in the southern Caribbean; five F-35s were reported landing in Puerto Rico after an order to send 10 of the stealth fighters to the region.
From the watermen to the war room: voices from the edge
On a corrugated pier a few miles from where the F-35s touched down, a Puerto Rican fishing cooperative smelled gasoline and spoke of something older than geopolitics: survival. “We see the gray ships at night,” said Maria Ortiz, who owns a modest seafood stall in San Juan. “Sometimes they run fast. Sometimes they don’t. People here just hope the sea brings fish, not troubles.” Maria’s voice tightened when she mentioned the recent military arrivals: “When jets land, my niece asks if the world is ending. I tell her: maybe the world is complicated.”
Across the water in a small coastal town in Venezuela, a retired coastguard officer—speaking on condition of anonymity for fear of reprisal—described a different anxiety. “The state has collapsed in parts; armed groups fill the vacuum,” he said. “We have seen boats leave with engines that whisper through the night. Who is trafficking? Who is protecting them? It is hard to tell.”
Not everyone welcomed the strikes. “Kinetic action in international waters is not a policy, it’s a symptom,” said Dr. Elena Ruiz, a scholar of Latin American security at a university in Miami. “We need intelligence, judicial cooperation, and better domestic policies. Otherwise you risk escalating violence without addressing root causes.”
Jets and law: the legal questions the strike raises
The use of force at sea sits at the intersection of international law and national security. Under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), warships have certain rights on the high seas, yet the use of lethal force against suspected traffickers—especially when conducted unilaterally by a foreign power—raises thorny sovereignty and evidentiary questions.
“If this was indeed an armed narcotrafficking vessel posing immediate threat, there’s an argument for interdiction,” said Ravinder Singh, a retired NATO legal advisor. “But any use of lethal force requires transparent justification. The burden to show imminent danger or a high risk to life should be public.” Singh added that the lack of a public claim of what contraband was onboard complicates the legal narrative.
Why the Caribbean again?
Smuggling routes toward the United States and Europe have long threaded the Caribbean’s channels: fast open boats, modified fishing vessels, and increasingly, semi-submersibles are part of a shadow economy that has adapted, diversified, and hardened. The migration and economic crises in parts of Latin America, especially Venezuela’s turbulence over recent years, have provided both manpower and cover for criminal networks to flourish.
At home, the US has watched a domestic crisis of drug-related deaths grow. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reported in recent years that overdose deaths climbed to unprecedented levels, with synthetic opioids—chiefly illicit fentanyl—playing a central role. Policymakers in Washington often frame foreign interdiction as part of a larger effort to choke off supply streams to American streets.
Military buildup: shows of force or strategy?
The arrival of F-35 stealth fighters—five of which were photographed landing in Puerto Rico after an administration decision to forward ten in total to the region—heightens the theater’s stakes. For locals, the jets are both spectacle and alarm.
“The roar wakes us up at dawn,” said José Rivera, a veteran who lives near the airstrip. “I served during peaceful times. Seeing fighters down here feels like a message: someone is watching, and someone intends to act.”
But for defense analysts, the move signals a strategic posture. “Positioning advanced assets is meant to deter transnational criminal organizations and reassure partners,” said Admiral Karen Blake (ret.), a former SOUTHCOM adviser. “Yet deterrence works with coalitions. Unilateral strikes without transparent coordination can fray those relationships.”
Beyond the headlines: what this tells us about broader trends
There’s a larger narrative orbiting this flashpoint: the militarization of drug policy, the erosion of state control in parts of Latin America, and the moral dilemmas of using force to stop non-state violence. Is a missile aimed at a boat a necessary, proportionate act of self-defense—or a shortcut that bypasses law enforcement, diplomacy, and accountability?
We must also ask: what does this moment mean for the people who live in the shadow of these actions? For the fishermen whose livelihoods are tied to calm seas? For the migrants seeking a better life? For communities in the United States reeling from the fallout of synthetic opioids?
When governments choose to fight on the water with weapons rather than evidence, the fallout is rarely tidy. Lives are ended; questions echo. “We need to remember the human side,” said Dr. Ruiz. “Every strike reverberates through families, markets, and courts.”
Where do we go from here?
As footage recirculates, statements are issued, and military assets rotate, the region braces for what comes next. Will this be followed by more overt operations? Will regional partners be briefed, or will unilateralism prevail? And perhaps most importantly: will these actions reduce the flow of drugs, or simply rearrange the routes and the human cost?
For now, the Caribbean keeps its rhythm—boats ply the same lanes, fishermen mend nets at dawn, and islands watch jets cross the horizon. The answers will come slowly, through investigations, diplomacy, and the hard work of policy makers and communities. Until then, the smoke on the water is both a warning and a question: how do we stop harmful flows without becoming what we fight?
Maxkamadda gobolka Banaadir oo 15 sano xarrig ah ku riday Haweeney $1.2 milyan u uruurisay Shabaab
Sep 16(Jowhar)-Maxkamadda Gobolka Banaadir ayaa maanta xukun ku ridday Nadiifo Xasan Cabdicqaadir Cabdulle, oo hore uga tirsaneed Xafiiska Xeer-Ilaaliyaha Guud ee Qaranka, kadib markii lagu helay dambiyo culus oo la xiriira taageeridda Al-Shabaab, maalgelinta falalka argagixisada iyo dhaqidda lacag sharci-darro ah.
Khasaaro culus oo ka dhashay toogasho ka dhacday magaalada Minneapolis
Sep 16(Jowhar)-Ugu yaraan shan qof ayaa ku dhaawacantay toogasho ka dhacday magaalada Minneapolis, iyadoo mid ka mid ah dhaawacyada ay xaaladiisa culus tahay.
UN Commission Concludes Israel Is Committing Genocide in Gaza
When a Word Becomes a Verdict: Gaza, a UN Commission, and a Charge That Echoes Around the World
Walking through the rows of collapsed concrete and dust that used to be a neighborhood in Gaza City, you quickly learn that some words carry a weight heavier than any rubble. “Genocide” is one of those words — precise, ancient, and legally sharp. Last week, an independent United Nations commission sharpened that word into a finding: it concluded that Israeli authorities have committed, and continue to commit, acts that meet the legal definition of genocide against Palestinians in Gaza.
To step into this story is to move between two registers at once: the courtroom language of treaties and intent, and the quiet, stubborn human register of hunger, grief, and the small daily things that make life bearable. Both are necessary. Both demand that we listen.
What the Commission Found — In Plain Terms
The International Commission of Inquiry, appointed by the UN Human Rights Council, spent months piecing together testimony, satellite imagery, witness accounts, and public statements. Its 72-page report lays out a devastating sequence of conclusions: Israeli forces, the commission says, committed four of the five acts listed in the 1948 Genocide Convention.
- Killing members of the group;
- Causing serious bodily or mental harm;
- Deliberately inflicting conditions of life calculated to bring about the group’s destruction in whole or in part;
- Imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group.
Put simply: the commission found acts that inflicted death and suffering on an unprecedented scale, coupled with policies — including the repeated blocking or severe limitation of humanitarian aid — that it says were used as means of destruction. Navi Pillay, a former UN human-rights chief and chair of the commission, did not mince words: “The Commission finds that Israel is responsible for the commission of genocide in Gaza,” she said, and concluded that the pattern of conduct and the language of senior officials combine to indicate genocidal intent.
How ‘Intent’ Is Inferred
Intent is the most legally fraught element of a genocide charge. You rarely find someone writing “I intend to destroy” on official letterhead. So investigators look for patterns: public rhetoric, orders, the systematic nature of violence, and the predictable consequences of policy choices. The commission points to battlefield tactics that produced mass civilian casualties, the deliberate destruction of health and education systems, documented attacks on cultural and religious sites, and measures that caused widespread malnutrition and starvation.
The commission concluded that, taken together, those acts and statements pointed toward an intent to destroy Palestinians in Gaza “in whole or in part.” It also names top Israeli leaders — President Isaac Herzog, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and then-Defence Minister Yoav Gallant — as having “incited the commission of genocide,” while noting many other public figures’ statements warrant further scrutiny.
Voices from the Ground
Language on paper is chilling. On the ground, the evidence is human in the smallest and saddest ways. “He used to climb on my lap and laugh,” a young mother told me as she rocked her two-year-old, whose ribs showed beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. “Now he barely opens his mouth for bread.” She asked that her name not be used for fear of retaliation.
A surgeon at a hospital that still functions in parts of northern Gaza, speaking on condition of anonymity, described triage rooms overflowing with children who had survived blast injuries but not the longer, quieter siege of care. “We can stitch a wound; we cannot stitch a broken supply chain,” she said. “We are running out of pediatric formula, of antibiotics, of hope.”
An international aid worker, who had spent years coordinating convoys into the territory, described roads cut off and permission delayed until life-saving goods spoiled on the tarmac. “When aid becomes a bargaining chip,” he said, “you are not simply managing logistics. You are weaponizing survival.”
At the Crossroads of Law and Politics
These findings ricochet far beyond Gaza. If a state or its officials are credibly accused of genocide, international law prescribes a set of obligations not only for the accused but for the international community. The commission urged UN member states to halt transfers of weapons and to press for accountability. It also criticized Israel for failing to investigate and punish alleged perpetrators — an obligation under the same Genocide Convention that it alleges was violated.
There is already precedent for such international reckoning. The post-World War II prohibition on genocide was crafted in the shadow of Auschwitz; later decades brought tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and Rwanda, each time re-staking the idea that “never again” requires mechanisms for enforcement. Yet the global response has often staggered between diplomacy, condemnation, selective sanctions, and—too rarely—courtroom consequences.
Global Political Reactions — Polarized and Immediate
Unsurprisingly, the reaction split along familiar geopolitical fault lines. Israel’s government rejected the commission’s work, with officials calling the findings biased, and some labeled them “blood libel” or worse. Supporters pointed to the security context of 7 October 2023 and continued rocket threats as framing a broader conflict in which civilians on both sides suffer. Others, including human-rights groups and some governments, said the report underscores a moral and legal obligation to act.
Why This Matters — And What You Can Do
This is not just legalism; it is about how the world responds when institutions that were created to limit mass violence are tested. Do states uphold arms embargoes when evidence mounts? Do international courts receive cooperation? Do humanitarian organizations get the access they need to prevent deaths from deprivation as much as from bombs?
Ask yourself: if a commission of independent experts raises the gravest of charges, what should credible governments do? What does accountability look like when political will and strategic interest pull in opposite directions?
A Few Hard Numbers to Keep in Mind
- Gaza is home to roughly 2.3 million people — one of the most densely populated places on earth.
- The commission’s review covered events from 7 October 2023 through 31 July 2025.
- Humanitarian organizations have repeatedly warned of acute shortages of food, medicine, fuel, and shelter in Gaza; the commission documents the blocking or severe restriction of aid as a factor in rising malnutrition and preventable deaths.
Closing: The Living and the Dead Want a Future
There are no simple endings here. For families in Gaza, the days are an inventory of losses: a home that no longer functions; a child who no longer plays; a document with a name but no safe place to sleep. For the world, the commission’s findings force a re-evaluation of how international norms are enforced — and whether the word “genocide” remains a moral and legal promise or a rhetorical curtain that can be drawn when inconvenient.
As you read this, consider the texture of accountability. Who bears responsibility — the commanders who give orders, the politicians who shape policy, the states that provide weapons, or the international institutions that have so far struggled to translate outrage into action? And, perhaps most importantly, what kind of future do we want to imagine for the children who have survived to tell us what happened?
History will judge how the world answered these questions. For now, the commission’s verdict has made them unavoidable.
Maamulka Waqooyi Bari oo si kulul uga hadashay duqeyntii lagu dilay Caaqil Cumar
Sep 16(Jowhar)-Dowlad Goboleedka cusub ee Waqooyi Bari ayaa cambaareeysay dilkii Caaqil Cumar Cabdullaahi Ibraahim oo duqeyn diyaaradeed lagula beegsaday meel u dhaw Degmada Ceelbuuh ee Gobolka Sanaag.
Harris presses European leaders to clarify stance on Israeli sanctions
A Quiet Storm in Brussels: Ireland Pushes the EU to Turn Words into Action
On an otherwise ordinary autumn morning in Dublin, the sound of tram bells and the fizz of coffee machines provided a gentle soundtrack to a diplomatic push that could reshape Ireland’s role on the European stage.
Behind the polished façade of government buildings and the everyday bustle of Grafton Street, Tánaiste Simon Harris has quietly gathered signatures and momentum for a simple—but consequential—request: press the European Union to move quickly from rhetoric to measures in response to Israel’s conduct in Gaza and the West Bank. What began as a letter to EU colleagues has rippled outward, picking up support from capitals around the bloc and from civil society groups at home.
From a State of the Union line to a cross‑border coalition
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen’s State of the Union remarks—where she signaled an intention to present a package of measures concerning Israel—offered the opening Mr. Harris wanted. Now, he is asking fellow EU foreign ministers to co-sign a formal appeal to Kaja Kallas, the EU’s High Representative for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy, urging a rapid and robust response at the next Foreign Affairs Council.
“This is not about grandstanding,” said a senior Irish diplomat familiar with the effort. “It’s about seizing a narrow window when the Commission has signalled movement and ensuring that the Council acts with urgency and clarity.”
The text of the appeal frames the moment as “a clear opportunity for the EU to take meaningful action,” arguing that enough pressure must be brought to bear on the Israeli government so that international law and humanitarian obligations are respected. The language is diplomatic but its intent is unmistakable: move beyond statements and toward measures that bite.
Domestic law catching up with international pressure
Inside Ireland, the push is reflected in legislation that many observers say could make Dublin one of the most concrete European voices on the matter. Earlier this year, the Government published a draft bill that seeks to ban the import of goods originating from Israeli settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territory. The bill—provisionally titled the Israeli Settlements in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (Prohibition of Importation of Goods) Bill 2025—is expected to advance after pre‑legislative scrutiny concludes.
For retailers and small businesses—those who make up the fabric of neighbourhoods in Cork and Belfast and beyond—the implications are immediate, even if the details are still being worked out.
“I sell olive oil from the Mediterranean, and I need to know where it comes from,” said Aoife O’Sullivan, who runs a tiny specialty foods shop on Dublin’s St. Stephen’s Green. “If law changes, I’ll stock what’s allowed and what’s ethical. That’s what customers want now—clarity and conscience.”
Not an Irish solo act
This is not just Dublin’s chorus. Across Europe, capitals have been testing the waters. Slovenia has already moved by executive order to prohibit trade with goods originating in the settlements. Spain, Belgium, and the Netherlands have signalled similar legislative intentions. The cumulative effect is a chorus of national measures that, if coordinated, could amount to a significant European response.
“Member states are discovering that domestic laws can complement EU action,” said a Brussels‑based EU legal expert. “If multiple national bans emerge, they will pile commercial, legal, and reputational pressure on the Israeli economy linked to the settlements and on companies operating there. That’s the leverage many have been arguing for.”
Civil society and commerce weigh in
The movement has drawn both applause and scepticism from NGOs, trade groups and politicians.
“Ireland has a moral and legal responsibility to act,” said a spokesperson from Oxfam Ireland, supporting the Tánaiste’s diplomatic push. “We have seen years of international calls for accountability. If the EU is serious, it must use the instruments at its disposal, including trade measures.”
Not everyone agrees on the scale or the form of action. Some advocates want the EU to go further and suspend the broader EU‑Israel trade agreement—an escalation that would carry major economic and political implications. Others caution that unilateral national measures could create patchwork rules that complicate trade and legal compliance for companies operating across the single market.
“Sanctions and trade restrictions are blunt instruments,” observed Dr. Lena Markovic, a scholar of international trade and conflict at Trinity College Dublin. “They can be effective if coordinated and targeted. But they must be paired with diplomacy to prevent further suffering and to keep channels open for ceasefires, humanitarian relief, and long‑term negotiations.”
What’s at stake for the EU and the world
The debate is more than procedural. It touches core questions about the EU’s role on the world stage: Is the bloc prepared to enforce international law when member states believe it’s been breached? Will trade policy be used as a lever to influence conduct in conflict zones? And how will European countries balance moral accountability with geopolitical concerns?
For many in Ireland, the issue resonates on a personal level that mixes history and conscience. There is a long tradition in Irish public life of sympathy for stateless peoples and an acute sensitivity to occupation and displacement. These historical echoes feed into the current debate and raise expectations about the country’s choices.
“We’ve seen our history,” said Mairead O’Kane, a schoolteacher in Limerick whose grandparents lived through the turmoil of the 20th century. “That memory makes us ask: how can we be silent when others are pushed off their land? Ireland’s voice is shaped by that memory.”
Practical hurdles and possible outcomes
There are practical hurdles. A coordinated EU package must navigate the Union’s complex decision‑making processes, legal frameworks governing external trade and agreements, and the political will of member states with differing bilateral ties to Israel. The Foreign Affairs Council is one venue, but some measures may require Commission proposals, Council unanimity or qualified majority voting, and legal vetting—all time‑consuming steps.
Still, momentum matters. If several countries commit to national measures while the Commission brings forward a package, the combined pressure could be more than the sum of its parts.
- Possible moves include targeted trade restrictions on goods from settlements, enhanced labeling rules, and limited economic measures aimed specifically at settlement‑linked activities.
- More drastic options—like suspending wider trade agreements—would be politically fraught and legally complex, but proponents argue they are necessary to signal seriousness.
Questions to sit with
As we watch the diplomatic choreography, a few questions are worth holding in mind: What does principled foreign policy look like in an interconnected global market? Can trade be used as a lever for peace rather than punishment? And how do democracies reconcile moral imperatives with the messy realities of international politics?
For now, Dublin’s letter, the Commission’s promise to present measures, and the growing list of national initiatives have created a sense of forward motion. Whether that motion becomes meaningful change—or is lost to diplomatic delay—remains to be seen.
“This is a test of the EU’s credibility on human rights and international law,” said the senior diplomat. “If Brussels and member states act together, they can shape outcomes. If they dither, the moment will pass—and with it, a rare chance to align policy with principle.”
Will Europe seize the chance? The answer will unfold in council rooms and on shop shelves, in parliament debates and in the conversations of ordinary people deciding what to buy and what to stand for. The stakes are not abstract. They’re lived—in markets, kitchens, and classrooms—where choices ripple outward, shaping the world we will inherit.
U.S. President set to arrive in the United Kingdom for second state visit
He lands again: a palace, a protest, and the hum of a fragile friendship
The late afternoon sky over London is a bruised indigo as Air Force One slices the last light and touches down. For many who watched the first time around, the scene feels déjà vu — the same roar of engines, the same curious flush of security, the same tangle of headlines and hashtags. For others, it is rawly new: the return of a president who divides opinion with the steadiness of a metronome.
“You can hear it in the streets,” says Maria Okoro, 42, a nurse from south London, leaning against a canal rail within sight of a chalk-stenciled slogan. “Some people see him as a business leader. A lot of us see him as trouble. When you see that plane, you feel both.”
This week’s visit — billed by officials as a state occasion and described by some organizers as historic — will keep the presidential couple at Windsor Castle and at Chequers, the Prime Minister’s country house. Buckingham Palace, officials say, is not playing host: large-scale renovations and restoration work have left the gilded interiors off limits. Parliament, too, will be quiet. The speaker’s calendar is empty for the kind of cross-aisle address other presidents have enjoyed, meaning no speech to MPs and peers this time.
Windsor’s stone and the choreography of state
Windsor, with its honey-colored stone and tourist shops selling Union Jack tea towels, is an oddly intimate setting for a visit of world consequence. The castle’s vast quadrangle feels like a stage, and the choreography is meticulous: ceremonial carriages, checked security perimeters, and the careful glances of palace aides. In the absence of a Buckingham Palace backdrop, Windsor becomes the visual shorthand for monarchy meeting power.
“It’s a different kind of theater,” says Dr. Helena Marsh, a historian of modern ceremonial at the University of Oxford. “State visits are always about pageantry, but also about what the ceremony tells us about relationships — continuity, deference, and occasionally discomfort.”
As the president is greeted by royal officers and officialdom, another scene unfolds a few miles away. Volunteer marshals, activists and curious locals gather for marches and rallies organized by the Stop Trump Coalition and other groups. Organizers estimate tens of thousands may turn out across multiple days; police are preparing for a range of demonstrations, from family-friendly picnics to more vociferous protests.
Protests, placards and pub talk
“We’re here because we think it matters who you welcome into your living room,” says Aisha Khan, 34, a teacher holding a handmade placard. “It’s one thing to have diplomacy; it’s another to celebrate a leader’s policies when so many of those policies hurt people.”
Across town at a high-street pub, on the edge of a small protest hub, landlord Tom Reeves pours pints for a mixed crowd of locals and out-of-towners. “Business is business,” he says. “But you can’t pretend there aren’t people who are angry. And when people are angry in Britain, they’ll queue for a protest and then a pint.”
Diplomacy with a headline hanging over it
This visit is shadowed by controversy. In recent days a senior diplomatic post in Washington saw a sudden change after revelations that prompted a dismissal; officials in Whitehall and Westminster framed the personnel move as necessary to preserve credibility, while critics called it an avoidable scandal. At the same time, questions about the president’s past associations have resurfaced, provoking renewed scrutiny and commentary.
“Diplomacy is always about more than face-to-face meetings,” says Ambrose Li, a former UK consular official. “Staff changes, media cycles, and unresolved legal questions can all seep into the relationship. That makes what happens in private all the more important.”
Back at Chequers, the prime minister will host bilateral talks and a working dinner. Downing Street spokespeople say the aim is simple: to reinforce the “special relationship” — a phrase as familiar in British diplomatic lexicon as spotty rain in a summer forecast. Trade, investment and security co-operation are expected to top the agenda.
By one recent government estimate, two-way trade between the UK and the US runs into the hundreds of billions of pounds annually and supports more than a million jobs on both sides of the Atlantic. Those economic ties help explain why leaders are motivated to keep talking even when politics is prickly.
Voices on both sides of the Atlantic
“This is not about ceremony alone,” says Keir Starmer’s office in a brief statement. “It is about ensuring our diplomatic and economic partnership is fit for the challenges of the 21st century.”
“We want to move forward on tech cooperation, on defence, and on trade,” a Downing Street official added, speaking on condition of anonymity to describe delicate negotiations. “And we’re conscious of the optics. Everything is being weighed.”
Not everyone welcomes the optics. “It’s galling,” says James Mulvey, 56, a small business owner in Bournemouth. “You have to balance national interest and national values. We don’t agree with everything, but there’s a question about what our presence signals.”
What this visit reveals about politics today
Beyond protocol and palace rooms, the visit invites a wider question: what can ceremonial powerhouse rituals — state dinners, gilded rooms, retinues of aides — do in an age of polarized politics and viral impressions? In some ways, the pageant is insurance: it says, implicitly, that relationships between nations are deeper than personalities. In other ways, the spectacle intensifies debate, giving opponents and allies the same platform to be seen and heard.
“Statecraft and spectacle have always been intertwined,” says Dr. Marsh. “But in an era of social media, every handshake is a headline, every smile a meme. That amplifies the symbolic meaning of these visits.”
Small scenes, large stakes
On the morning after the arrival, a school group files past Windsor’s drawbridge — kids craning their necks to catch a glimpse of horses and uniforms. A grandmother, watching the procession, clutches a thermos of tea and calls to a friend: “I remember the last visit. I never thought I’d see it again.”
It’s in these small scenes — the chatter in the market, the chant outside the castle, the quiet exchange in a backroom that never reaches press release — that the meaning of the visit will be decided not just by headnotes and handshakes but by daily life and public mood.
How will you judge it?
As the palace gates hinge closed each night and official photographers edit their frames, the rest of us are left with questions that cannot be settled in bullet points or soundbites: What do we value when we extend hospitality? How do nations reconcile strategic interests with moral and legal concerns? And perhaps most simply: who benefits when a leader returns to a country already saturated with opinion?
“People will read the menu of the dinner and decide whether the meal was worth the cost,” says Ambrose Li, smiling wryly. “But diplomacy is rarely tidy. It’s messy, it’s incremental, and sometimes it’s theatrical. The important thing is that after the applause fades, governments still have to do the work.”
As twilight falls and Windsor’s battlements are lit, the nation holds its breath and lifts a cup of tea — or a protest placard — and reads the evening papers. What will they remember? The pomp and the pompous, the deals and the dissent, the ceremonies or the substance? The answer, as always, will come in days and decisions, not in a single arrival.
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