Royal events set for day two of Trump’s visit

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September 17, 2025

Protest sees Peru evacuate 1,400 people from Machu Picchu — Machu Picchu was built in the 15th century at an altitude of 2,500 meters on orders from the Inca ruler Pachacutec

Night on the Tracks: When Machu Picchu’s Gateway Became a Standoff

The wet air of Aguas Calientes tasted like toasted corn and diesel the night trains were blocked—smoke rising from street stalls, steam from mate de coca mingling with the fog drifting down from the mountains. Under the sodium lights of the small station, families hunched over backpacks, travelers checked their phones in search of signal, and somewhere above, Machu Picchu’s stone shoulders sat quiet in the dark, a silhouette of centuries-old endurance caught in the middle of a very modern fight.

By dawn, Peruvian authorities said they had moved roughly 1,400 tourists overnight from the station that serves the UNESCO-listed citadel. Another 900 people remained stranded, the rail lines choked with felled logs and piled stones. The scene was less about ruins and more about a tug-of-war over who controls the flow of people, money, and power into one of the world’s most visited archaeological sites.

The Spark: Buses, Contracts, and Local Frustration

At the heart of the blockade is a dispute with a blunt, everyday complexity: who should operate the shuttle buses that take visitors from Aguas Calientes—popularly called Machu Picchu Pueblo—up a steep, switchback road to the ancient citadel?

For three decades a single company ran those buses. Its long contract expired, locals say, yet its buses continued to roll—fuel for resentment in a town where many residents depend on tourism for their livelihoods but feel shut out of decision-making. Protesters, frustrated by what they describe as opaque bidding processes and a lack of local benefits, placed logs and rocks across the rails to force attention.

“We love visitors. We live with visitors. But we don’t see the benefits,” said Rosa Huaman, a vendor who has sold handwoven alpaca scarves and empanadas at the market in Aguas Calientes for 12 years. “They made decisions in offices far away, and our sons and daughters don’t see the jobs. Today our voices had to be loud.”

Tourism Minister Desilu Leon told RPP radio that authorities “managed to evacuate about 1,400 tourists” overnight and that talks were planned with local authorities and unions to find a solution. The ministry has estimated average daily visits to Machu Picchu at about 4,500 people, many of them international visitors—numbers that underscore the economic stakes of even short interruptions.

Human Dominoes: Who Pays When the Train Stops?

The impacts ripple quickly. A stranded tourist is a missed tour, an empty restaurant table, a canceled guide booking. For many families in the valley below, each visitor arrival—or every blocked train—matters.

Approximately 4,500 visitors per day visit Machu Picchu on average, according to Peru’s tourism ministry.
Trains run from Cusco and Ollantaytambo—Cusco is roughly 110 kilometers away, and the rail journey can take three to four hours depending on the route and stops.
Machu Picchu sits around 2,500 meters above sea level, its terraces and temples a living museum of Inca ingenuity.

“It’s not that we want the buses for ourselves only,” said Miguel Quispe, a driver who works informally shuttling luggage and people between the station and guesthouses. “We’re saying: let our cooperatives bid. Let us have jobs that pay. When companies are chosen without us, it’s like the mountain is being taken.”

Heritage in the Crosshairs

Machu Picchu’s stones have weathered centuries of rain, frost, and human curiosity. Built in the 15th century under the orders of the Inca ruler Pachacutec, the site earned UNESCO World Heritage status in 1983. Yet the citadel has repeatedly been the stage for modern grievances—about land, governance, and the uneven flow of tourism dollars to small Andean communities.

In January last year, some 1,200 visitors had to be evacuated from the site—some without ever laying eyes on the terraces they had traveled so far to see. In another episode, the site closed for 25 days during nationwide unrest tied to political turmoil that followed the impeachment and arrest of then-president Pedro Castillo. These closures are not mere calendar blips; they alter livelihoods and strain the fragile infrastructure that keeps the valley running.

“Cultural heritage is not only about stones,” said Dr. Ana Velásquez, a heritage conservation scholar at a Peruvian university. “If local communities feel heritage is being managed over their heads, conflict is inevitable. We must think beyond preservation in a museum sense to stewardship—how can communities participate meaningfully in decisions about access, services, and profits?”

On the Ground: Stories of Stranded Travelers

For visitors, the experience was disorienting. “We arrived from Spain, excited, and ended up sleeping on benches,” said Carlos, a 28-year-old backpacker who agreed to be identified only by his first name. “People were kind, guides shared snacks. But it felt wrong—to have your dreams paused by politics.”

Another tourist, an older woman traveling with her adult daughter, described the community’s resolve. “They were firm but peaceful,” she said. “At one point a local elder explained why they were blocking the rail. I could see their pain—the same place that brings wealth also brings confusion and division.”

What Could Change?

The protesters’ demands are straightforward: transparency in the bidding process for the bus contract, fair opportunities for local operators and workers, and guarantees that revenues support community priorities—education, infrastructure, and conservation. Whether those demands translate into lasting policy depends on negotiation, political will, and sometimes, outside mediators.

Experts suggest possible paths forward:

Open, transparent procurement processes with community representation on selection committees.
Benefit-sharing agreements where a portion of ticket and service revenue is earmarked for communal projects.
Capacity-building initiatives to help local cooperatives meet safety and service standards expected by international tourists.

Beyond Machu Picchu: A Global Question

This is not only a Peruvian story. All around the world, communities face the paradox of heritage tourism: a resource that brings wealth and attention, but also strain and inequality. From the canals of Venice to the temples of Angkor, the same questions rise: Who decides what happens in a place that belongs to the world, but whose daily rhythms belong to local people?

As you read this, consider the next time you click “book” on a heritage destination—what is your role? What responsibilities do governments, tour operators, and travelers share? And can admiration for ancient stone inspire a contemporary ethic that ensures those who live beside those stones thrive as well?

After the Blockade

Officials said discussions were planned between the central government, local authorities, and unions, aiming to find a negotiated solution. Whether that meeting will defuse immediate tensions or merely delay another confrontation remains uncertain.

For now, the mountain waits. Tourists will return, buses will climb again, and the market stalls will reopen with their bright textiles and steaming snacks. But the conversations sparked on the railroad—about inclusion, dignity, and who benefits from world heritage—are likely to continue long after the tracks are cleared.

When the last log was cleared and the trains resumed, the valley didn’t simply revert to normal. The episode left behind a question that will not be easily swept up: how do we balance the global desire to see wonders with a local need for fairness and voice?

So I ask you, reader: if you could sit at a long wooden table in Aguas Calientes and listen, what would you say to help bridge the gap between stones and people?

Ra’iisul wasaare Xamse oo u koor galay howlaha ka socda Garoonka A cadde

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September 17, 2025

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?

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September 16, 2025

How did UN commission reach its genocide conclusion? — Israeli airstrikes hit and destroyed multiple buildings and high-rise towers in Gaza City

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

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September 16, 2025

Luxembourg's regulator to be quizzed on Israel decision — Commission de Surveillance du Secteur Financier - Luxembourg's financial regulator

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

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September 16, 2025

Trump threatens trade probe over 'unfair' Google ruling — US President Donald Trump previously threatened to retaliate against the European Union for any push against Big Tech (file photo)

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

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aden

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September 16, 2025

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

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aden

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September 16, 2025

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

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September 16, 2025

Israel committing genocide in Gaza - UN commission — Children try to get rice from a charity kitchen providing food for free in the west of Gaza City

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

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aden

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September 16, 2025

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.