Just International

Kashmir’s Solidarity with Iran

By Ranjan Solomon

The killing of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, amid escalating conflict in West Asia has triggered a profound and multifaceted response in Kashmir. Far beyond routine political reactions, the Valley has witnessed an outpouring of humanitarian support, public protests, and symbolic acts of solidarity. These developments offer a compelling lens through which to examine the intersection of religion, politics, identity, and global consciousness in Kashmir’s socio-political fabric.

Humanitarian Mobilisation: Beyond Symbolism

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Kashmir’s response has been the scale and intensity of grassroots humanitarian efforts. Across the Valley—particularly in Shia-majority areas—residents have organised donation drives, contributing cash, gold jewellery, and even essential household items such as copper utensils.

These contributions are not merely token gestures. They reflect a deeply internalised sense of moral obligation toward communities perceived as suffering under conflict. In many cases, families have reportedly parted with heirlooms or encouraged children to donate their savings. Such acts suggest that the movement is not driven solely by political motivations but also by ethical and emotional impulses rooted in shared identity and empathy.

From a sociological perspective, this behaviour aligns with what scholars describe as “transnational moral communities” – networks of solidarity that transcend national boundaries, often anchored in shared religion, history, or perceived collective vulnerability. In Kashmir, where political uncertainty and conflict have long shaped everyday life, such identification with distant crises becomes particularly pronounced.

Religious Identity and Transnational Solidarity

The prominent participation of Shia communities in these efforts is significant. Iran, as a major centre of Shia Islam, occupies a unique symbolic position within the global Shia imagination. For many Kashmiri Shias, solidarity with Iran is not just geopolitical – it is also spiritual and cultural.

However, what makes the current wave of support noteworthy is its apparent expansion beyond sectarian lines. Reports suggest that Sunnis, as well as members of Hindu and Sikh communities in some areas, have also contributed to relief efforts. While the scale of such cross-community participation may vary, its presence indicates that the response cannot be reduced to sectarian affinity alone.

Instead, it reflects a layered identity structure in Kashmir, where religious belonging intersects with broader narratives of justice, resistance, and humanitarian concern. The framing of the donations as aid for “war-affected people” rather than as support for a state or regime reinforces this interpretation.

Protest as Political Expression

Parallel to the humanitarian initiatives, protests across Srinagar, Budgam, and other parts of the Valley have underscored the political dimension of the response. Demonstrators have voiced anger over the alleged involvement of the United States and Israel in the killing, raising slogans and organising public gatherings despite restrictions.

These protests can be understood within Kashmir’s long-standing tradition of political mobilisation. Public demonstrations in the region often serve as a means of articulating grievances—not only about local issues but also about global events perceived to resonate with local experiences.

In this context, the protests are not simply about Iran. They are also about expressing dissent against perceived global power asymmetries and military interventions. For many participants, the events in West Asia may echo their own perceptions of injustice, marginalisation, or geopolitical vulnerability.

Institutional Responses and Political Contestation

The involvement of religious and political institutions has further shaped the narrative. The Muttahida Majlis-e-Ulema (MMU), an influential body of Islamic scholars, called for a voluntary shutdown to express solidarity with Iran. Such calls carry significant weight in Kashmir, where religious leadership continues to play an important role in public life.

Meanwhile, political leaders, including members of the Jammu and Kashmir National Conference, have condemned the killing and criticised the imposition of restrictions on protests. Their stance highlights an ongoing tension between state authority and civil liberties in the region.

Authorities, for their part, have responded by tightening security and imposing restrictions in sensitive areas such as Srinagar’s Lal Chowk. These measures are consistent with the state’s approach to managing public order in a region historically marked by volatility. However, they also raise questions about the balance between security and democratic expression.

Media Narratives and Information Flows

Another critical dimension of the situation is the role of media—both traditional and digital—in shaping public perception. Social media platforms have played a key role in disseminating images of protests, donation drives, and emotional appeals. These platforms amplify the sense of immediacy and connection, enabling local communities to engage with distant conflicts in real time.

At the same time, the circulation of unverified or exaggerated claims—such as the scale of funds raised – highlights the challenges of information reliability in a hyperconnected environment. Competing narratives, often influenced by political or ideological biases, further complicate the public understanding of events.

For analysts, this underscores the importance of critically evaluating sources and recognising the ways in which information ecosystems can both mobilise and polarise communities.

Historical Context: Kashmir and Global Muslim Causes

Kashmir’s response to the situation in Iran is not an isolated expression. Historically, the region has demonstrated solidarity with various international causes involving Muslim-majority populations, including conflicts in Palestine, Iraq, and Afghanistan.

This pattern reflects what sociologists’ term “imagined solidarities” – forms of collective identification that are not based on direct interaction but on shared narratives, symbols, and experiences. In Kashmir, such solidarities are often reinforced by religious discourse, media representations, and political rhetoric.

At the same time, these expressions of solidarity are shaped by local conditions. Kashmir’s own history of conflict and political contestation provides a framework through which global events are interpreted and internalised.

Humanitarianism vs. Political Implications

While many participants frame their actions as purely humanitarian, the broader implications are more complex. Acts of solidarity, especially in politically charged contexts, inevitably carry symbolic and political meanings.

For some observers, the donation drives and protests represent a compassionate response to human suffering. For others, they raise concerns about the potential politicisation of humanitarian aid and the alignment of local sentiments with international geopolitical dynamics.

This duality is not unique to Kashmir. Across the world, humanitarian actions often exist at the intersection of ethics and politics, reflecting both genuine concern and underlying ideological orientations.

Conclusion: A Mirror of Kashmir’s Complex Identity

The wave of solidarity with Iran in Kashmir offers a revealing glimpse into the region’s intricate social and political landscape. It highlights the coexistence of humanitarian empathy, religious identity, and political consciousness within a single collective response.

Far from being a simple reaction to distant events, Kashmir’s mobilisation reflects a deeply embedded sense of connection to global issues—one that is shaped by history, identity, and lived experience. It also underscores the enduring role of civil society, religious institutions, and political actors in mediating public sentiment.

As the situation in West Asia continues to evolve, the developments in Kashmir serve as a reminder that global conflicts are rarely confined to their immediate geography. Instead, they ripple outward, influencing communities far beyond their point of origin and revealing the complex ways in which people make sense of a turbulent world.

Ranjan Solomon has worked in social justice movements since he was 19 years of age.

28 March 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

From Gaza to Minab, the Same Story — Children Paying the Price of War

By Dr. Ramzy Baroud

Those who had the misfortune of growing up in a war zone require no explanation. War is hell, it is true—but for children, it is something else entirely: a confusing, disorienting fate that defies comprehension.

There are children who live only briefly, experiencing whatever life manages to offer them: the love of parents, the camaraderie of siblings, the fragile joys and inevitable hardships of existence.

There are over 20,000 children in this category who have been killed in Gaza over the span of roughly two years, according to figures released by the Gaza Health Ministry and repeatedly cited by United Nations agencies. Some were born and killed within the same short timeframe.

Others remain buried beneath the rubble of the destroyed Strip. According to humanitarian and forensic experts cited by the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), thousands of bodies are still missing under collapsed buildings, with recovery efforts hindered by the scale of destruction and lack of equipment. In some cases, extreme heat, fire, and the use of heavy explosive weaponry have rendered identification nearly impossible, meaning that many of these children may never be properly accounted for, let alone mourned at a grave.

These children will not have graves to be visited. And if they do, many will have no living parents left to pray for them. But we will always do.

And then, there are those who are wounded and maimed—tens of thousands of them. Visiting Amro, the wounded son of a relative who perished along with his entire family in Gaza, I witnessed one of the most heartbreaking sights one could possibly endure: the wounded and maimed children of Gaza in a Turkish hospital.

There were a few teenagers, many without limbs. Hospital staff had adorned them with the beloved Palestinian keffiyeh. Those who could flashed the victory sign, and those who had no arms raised what remained of their limbs, as if to tell every wandering visitor that they stand for something deep and unyielding, that their losses were not in vain.

But then there were the little ones, who experienced trauma without fully comprehending even the magnitude of their tragedy. They stared in confusion at everyone—the unfamiliar faces, the incomprehensible languages spoken around them, the empty walls.

My nephew kept speaking of his parents, who were meant to visit him any day. They were both gone, along with his only brother.

I was in kindergarten in a refugee camp in Gaza when I witnessed my first military raid. The target was our school. I still recall our teachers pushing back against soldiers as they forced their way into the building. I remember them being physically assaulted, screaming at us to run toward the orchard.

We began running while holding hands with one another. We were all wearing matching red outfits with stickers on our faces—none of us had any understanding of who these men were or why they were hurting the people who cared for us.

If the killing of children in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, Iran, and across the Middle East is normalized, then it will become just another accepted feature of war. And since “war is hell,” we will all move on, accepting that our children—anywhere in the world—now stand on the front lines of victimhood whenever it suits the calculations of war.

I have thought about this often in recent years—during the devastation in Gaza, the wars across the region, and the killing of students at a school in the Iranian city of Minab.

Minab is not just an Iranian tragedy; it is our collective loss. Evidence from international investigations indicates that the strike on the Shajareh Tayyebeh school was not an accident, but the result of deliberate targeting within a broader military campaign.

Amnesty International concluded that the school building was directly struck with guided weapons. Investigations by major outlets, alongside US military sources, suggest the site had been placed on a target list despite being a functioning school. The result was devastating: children killed, families shattered, and yet another atrocity absorbed into the relentless rhythm of war.

The US administration may deny intent as often as it wishes. But we know that the killing of children is not incidental. It is evidenced in Gaza, where the scale alone defies any claim of accident. As UNICEF Executive Director Catherine Russell stated, “Gaza has become a graveyard for thousands of children.” That reality alone should end any debate.

I could pause here to tell you that all children are precious, that all lives are sacred, and that international law is unequivocal on this matter. I could invoke the Fourth Geneva Convention, which states that “protected persons (…) shall at all times be humanely treated,” and that violence against civilians is strictly prohibited.

Yes, I could do all of that. But I fear it would make little difference.

Everything we have said and done has failed Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and much of our region. International law, once seen as a shield, has become little more than a point of departure for conversations about its ineffectiveness and hypocrisy.

Speaking to Palestinians about international law often generates not reassurance, but frustration and anger. So I will spare you that, too.

Instead, I want to make a call to the world.

A call on behalf of Amro, and the many others from our family who were killed, and the thousands more who perished; a call on behalf of the frightened children of the Flowers Kindergarten in my old refugee camp in Gaza: please, do not allow them to normalize the killing of children.

Do not settle for indifference, or mere concern, or even moral outrage that is never followed by action.

Dr. Ramzy Baroud is a journalist, author and the Editor of The Palestine Chronicle.

28 March 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

The Miscalculation of the Century: Trump’s Iran Adventure

By Vijay Prashad

Last year, in July, the United States and Israel bombarded Iran’s nuclear energy and nuclear research facilities over twelve days. After a few days, the two belligerent powers—who had no United Nations authorisation for this war of aggression—opened the door for a ceasefire. At that time, believing that this might very well be the basis for a full negotiation, the Iranian government led by Supreme Leader Ali Hosseini Khamenei agreed to the terms set out: an immediate end to the strikes and no escalation. The missile launchers went quiet, but the deal was very fragile. There was no long-term peace agreement, no binding enforcement or monitoring mechanisms, no settlement on the nuclear issues, and no agreement to end US and Israeli sabotage and attacks on Iran. This was not an end to the war imposed by the United States and Israel on Iran, but only an agreement to stop one battle. Khamenei described the US and Israel aggression as futile and said that they “gained nothing,” while at the same time saying that Iran had forced a ceasefire and would “never surrender.”

Oman has a decades-long reputation as a neutral intermediary between Iran and the United States (with Israel lurking in the background). Between 2012 and 2013, it was Oman that hosted the US-Iran talks that resulted in the 2015 Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action (JCPOA) between Iran and the P5+1 (USA, UK, France, China, Russia + Germany) and the European Union—reducing sanctions in exchange for some promises on nuclear enrichment. A secure and discreet channel existed between Muscat for Tehran and Washington, and this communication line became active after July toward a proper negotiation to clarify red lines and to reduce the risk of miscalculation. In fact, the conversation broadened, and Iran came to the point of accepting that its uranium enrichment would be capped, that its highly enriched stockpiles would be diluted, and that the International Atomic Energy Agency could re-expand monitoring and inspections. This was not a final deal, but it was a negotiation framework with conditional nuclear restraint and an ongoing practice of de-escalation. Both Supreme Leader Khamenei and President Masoud Pezeshkian had the political will for a deal, which was very much on the horizon. Iran’s Foreign Minister Abbas Araqchi said less than a day before the US and Israeli attack that a deal was “within reach, but only if diplomacy is given priority.”

In fact, the United States and Israel took the other path: a war of aggression that violated the UN Charter (Article 2). On the very first day, 28 February, the United States and Israel assassinated Supreme Leader Khamenei and killed 180 girls at the Shajareh Tayyebeh Elementary School in Minab. The United States and Israel believed that this barrage of strikes against political leaders, key infrastructure, and civilians would immediately lead to a popular uprising that would remove the Islamic Republic. The US and Israeli intelligence overestimated the protests that began in December 2025 around the depreciation of the rial and rising inflation. But there is an enormous difference between a cycle of protests against economic issues and the appetite to rise up and overthrow an entire system. When the missiles killed the Supreme Leader–who has a reputation even amongst his critics for piety (he was elevated by the Society of Seminary Teachers at Qom as a Marja-e Taqlid or Source of Emulation in 1994)– and when they killed the school children, the public mood was electrified by patriotism. It was impossible in this situation to take the side of the imperialist war against innocent children. The nature of the US and Israeli attack, and the fact that Iran was able to strike Israeli targets as well as US targets in the Gulf Arab states, focused the population of Iran around its own survival and its ability to defend itself. That is the current mood amongst Iranians for the most part.

Since the US wars on Afghanistan in 2001 and Iraq in 2003, US war planners have not set aside the concept of the escalation ladder and have used the concept of rapid dominance (through decapitation strikes, paralysis of command, and total dominance of the adversary’s military). This worked with Afghanistan and Iraq, where the scale of the US violence destroyed the capacity of retaliation. It was truly ‘shock and awe’. Such a military framework did not function with Iran. The Iranians had prepared for a full—scale US and Israeli attack for decades. Their political leadership understood the vulnerability of decapitation strikes, and therefore created eight levels of replacements for most of the top, essential leaders. The military hastily formed different kinds of weapon systems, from hypersonic cluster missiles that could overcome air defence systems to the fast inshore attack crafts that employ swarm tactics in the Gulf waters. These, alongside the pro-Iranian militias from Lebanon to Iraq, are the many rings of defence that the Iranians have built. This means that while the US opens with rapid dominance and does not have an escalation ladder, the Iranian response to the US and Israel was strategically built on starting with its simplest missiles and moving to its more sophisticated cluster missiles—while it has been holding back its small boats and its militias. These have not been deployed, as Iran remains reliant upon its missiles and its hold on the Straits of Hormuz (now only open to ships from certain countries).

Iran’s intelligent response to the United States and Israel has pinned them down, leaving them with no choice but to beg for a ceasefire. The Iranian leadership says that it is uninterested in a partial ceasefire, as in July 2025, that would simply allow Israel and the United States to rearm and return with another round of violence. Iran says that it wants to have a grand bargain that includes Iran, Iraq, and Lebanon—not just Iran—and that it wants total sanctions withdrawal, an end to the genocide of the Palestinians, and other requirements that the US remove its threatening base structure that encircles Iran. If the United States and Israel agree to these demands, it would mean an absolute victory for Iran—despite the tragic losses of human lives from the vicious attack by Israel and the United States. Having killed

Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, who had been eager for the ceasefire in July 2025, the United States and Israel have lost someone who would perhaps have argued again for a ceasefire. The current leadership, including the new Supreme Leader Mojtaba Khamenei, has made an accurate assessment that a ceasefire without a grand bargain is merely about time and not about peace. The Iranians want peace for the region, not war, ceasefire, war– an endless war that results in austerity and pain.

The Israelis have not said much about the war in Iran, preferring to strike with their missiles and block any news coverage of the Iranian missile strikes on Israel. Would they be governed by a peace deal made by Trump? Unlikely. The Israelis have an eschatological view of the Middle East, eager to take the land from the Nile to the Euphrates, which would need them to silence their biggest and most consequential critic in the region, namely Iran. For Israel, this is a fight to the end. They have dragged the United States into this battle, even though there is no realistic gain for the US regarding the existence or not of the Islamic Republic (which has not threatened the United States at all). Israel wants to see the Islamic Republic uprooted, but that is an unlikely outcome given its deep roots in Iranian society. The United States would, on the other hand, be content with the management of the Islamic Republic with a pliant leadership. Neither option is on the cards. The only option for military escalation is for either the US or Israel to launch a nuclear strike against Iran—which would, after the egregious impact on the lives of Iranian civilians, evoke a totally negative response from global opinion.

There are no good options for the United States and Israel. They can remain with their bombing, but they will continue to see Iranian escalation that inflicts harm on Israel and on US interests in the region. The United States and Israel will have to face the world as fuel and food prices skyrocket. This was a miscalculation by the United States and Israel. Iran will not bend so easily. Hundreds of years of a proud civilization is at stake. Its leaders know that. They are not just standing for the Islamic Republic or the Iranian Revolution of 1979, but for Iran itself. They will not back down.

Vijay Prashad is an Indian historian and journalist.

28 March 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

How U.S. Sanctions Are Fueling Hunger in Cuba

By Medea Benjamin

In Cuba today, food is rotting in the fields while families go hungry.

On a recent trip to the eastern part of the island, I spoke with farmers who are watching their livelihoods slip away—not because they lack skill or dedication, but because they lack fuel, parts, and basic inputs. One farmer described fields ready to harvest but no diesel to bring the crops in. Others showed broken machinery they have no way to repair. Even those who have turned to animal traction are having problems with feed.These are not isolated stories; they reflect a system under siege.

The U.S. fuel embargo, together with tightened sanctions under Trump, is strangling Cuba’s agricultural system from seed to table—making it harder and harder for Cubans to feed themselves.

Cuban farmers have already been operating under severe constraints imposed by U.S. sanctions—struggling to obtain spare parts to repair tractors, access fertilizers and pesticides, or secure basic inputs like seeds. Machinery breaks down and sits idle for months because parts can’t be imported or paid for through normal banking channels.

Add to that Hurricane Melissa, which struck Cuba in October 2025, flooding fertile farmland and destroying crops. Climate change is wreaking havoc on agriculture, bringing stronger storms, longer droughts, erratic rainfall, and rising temperatures.

Into this already fragile system comes the fuel crisis, compounding every existing problem. Even the farm equipment that can be repaired can’t be used because there is no diesel to run it. Irrigation systems go dry, planting is delayed or scaled back, and harvests are lost.

At the same time, there is not enough fuel to transport fresh produce from rural farms to urban markets. Trucks sit idle. Distribution chains break down. Food that could nourish communities never makes it to the people who need it most.

Processing food becomes impossible. Tomatoes—one of Cuba’s most abundant seasonal crops—are a painful example. Without reliable electricity, processing factories cannot operate. Mountains of ripe tomatoes, waiting to be turned into paste or sauce, are left to spoil.

Cuban farmers are certainly resilient. Across the island, they have been experimenting with agroecology, animal traction, local inputs, and cooperative models. They are finding creative ways to grow food with fewer resources. But resilience has limits.No amount of ingenuity can substitute for fuel that doesn’t arrive, machinery that can’t be repaired, or markets that can’t be reached.

This is not just an agricultural crisis—it is a humanitarian one.

On various trips to Cuba delivering humanitarian aid, I met women across the island who are desperate to find enough food to feed their children. They spend hours in lines, piecing together meals from whatever they can find, and constantly worrying about what to put on the kitchen table tomorrow. Their struggle mirrors what is happening in the countryside: a breakdown that is squeezing both producers and consumers at once.

Families stand in long lines for basic staples. Protein is scarce. Fresh fruits and vegetables—when available—are often priced beyond the reach of ordinary people. State salaries—often the equivalent of $15 to $30 a month—have been completely overtaken by soaring food prices driven by scarcity and inflation. A few pounds of tomatoes, a carton of eggs, or a bottle of cooking oil can consume a week’s wages. Pensioners and families living on fixed incomes are hit the hardest, forced to stretch rations, skip meals, or rely on remittances from relatives abroad—if they are lucky enough to have them.

The government has set up soup kitchens—the Sistema de Atención a la Familia (Family Care System)—to support the most vulnerable. But at the one we visited in Holguín, portions had grown smaller and less varied, and staff were forced to scavenge for wood to cook with due to gas shortages and unreliable electricity.

Rep. María Elvira Salazar, a leading voice in Congress for tightening sanctions, has openly acknowledged that the suffering of mothers and children is a price worth paying for regime change. Perhaps she should consult with Cubans on the island—not just those in Miami—about whether this is a price worth paying.

Trump’s major proponent of squeezing Cuba is Secretary of State Marco Rubio. Rubio argues that this pressure is necessary to force regime change and a flowering of private enterprise. But across the island, small-scale farmers and cooperatives already operate as private entrepreneurs, growing food, managing their own production, and selling to local markets–most of which have been privatized. Yet instead of supporting this sector, U.S. sanctions are crippling it. The very people the U.S. claims to champion are being strangled by the same policies that claim to promote them.

If the goal is to support the Cuban people, this policy is an utter failure. And for those unmoved by humanitarian concerns, think about an unstoppable wave of mass migration that may well be unleashed. In recent years, over a million Cubans—roughly one in ten—have migrated in search of a better life, most of them heading to the United States. While Trump has now closed the borders, the crisis risks fueling a new wave of desperate Cubans.

The solution is not complicated.

Lift the blockade. Allow Cuba to import fuel without threats of sanctioning the countries that provide it. Stop punishing farmers for trying to grow food—and the Cuban people simply trying to feed their families.

Medea Benjamin is co-founder of Global Exchange and CODEPINK: Women for Peace. She is the co-author, with Nicolas J.S. Davies, of War in Ukraine: Making Sense of a Senseless Conflict, available from OR Books in November 2022.

4 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

‘Torture and Degrading Treatment’ — The Case of Dr. Abu Safiya and Gaza’s Broken Medical System

By Dr. Ramzy Baroud

“Israel must immediately release Gazan doctor Dr. Hussam Abu Safiya,” UN experts said in a recent statement, in unequivocal terms.

Dr. Abu Safiya was “subjected to torture and other cruel and degrading treatment,” they said. His health condition is “dire.”

Many are already familiar with the iconic Palestinian doctor from Gaza. But the deserved and urgent focus on his case should not end with him. Rather, it should illuminate the broader catastrophe afflicting Gaza’s health sector — one deliberately dismantled as part of the ongoing genocide that began on October 7, 2023.

Palestinians and others continue to refer to the genocide as ‘ongoing’. This is not hyperbole. Though the rate of killing by bombs has decreased, the genocide remains in effect because the destruction of Gaza, and of all civilian infrastructure necessary for survival, continues to produce the same outcome: Palestinians are still dying as a direct result of the same policies.

This has affected every aspect of Palestinian life in Gaza that guarantees survival—from water and food to medical care.

Speaking at a WHO press briefing in Cairo on October 8, 2025, Dr. Hanan Balkhy, the World Health Organization’s top regional health official for the Eastern Mediterranean, laid it all on the table.

Though she spoke in institutional terms, outlining Gaza’s urgent healthcare needs, her account confirmed the scale of devastation caused by Israel’s genocide in Gaza.

Over 1,700 health workers have been killed in Gaza since the start of the genocide, she said. The majority of Gaza’s hospitals have been destroyed or rendered non-functional, with only a few partially operating. At least 455 Palestinians have died due to hunger, including 151 children, within months.

In all of the grim numbers the Gaza genocide has produced — and continues to produce — one constant stands out: for every growing number of victims, there is a corresponding number of those meant to save them who have also been killed.

Thousands of doctors, health workers, humanitarian workers, civil defense personnel, emergency responders, volunteers, charity workers, and municipal officials have been swept into the same cycle of destruction.

It could be argued that these numbers correspond to the overall scale of death in Gaza. Official figures state that over 72,000 Palestinians have been killed and more than 172,000 wounded, while independent research, including estimates published in The Lancet, suggests the true death toll may be far higher.

This argument may appear defensible. But the targeting of hospitals, the killing and wounding of doctors, and the unlawful detention and torture of health workers cannot be dismissed as a mere reflection of mass killing.

From the earliest days of the genocide, Israel placed Gaza’s hospitals at the center of its assault. On October 17, 2023, Al-Ahli Arab Hospital in Gaza was struck in one of the most horrific early massacres, followed by systematic assaults on major medical facilities, including Al-Shifa Hospital, Al-Quds Hospital, the Indonesian Hospital, and Nasser Medical Complex.

But why hospitals? Because hospitals were not only places of treatment. They were places of refuge. As tens of thousands of Palestinians sought shelter within their walls, hospitals became the last spaces where survival was still possible. To destroy them was to sever that final lifeline.

The killing of doctors, the bombing of hospitals, and the detention of medical personnel were not incidental. They formed part of a broader strategy: to render Gaza uninhabitable by dismantling the systems that sustain life.

Deprived of care, stripped of infrastructure, and denied the means to survive, Palestinians were left with fewer options — first to flee south, and ultimately, to be pushed beyond Gaza altogether.

This is why Dr. Abu Safiya has become so vital to this story.

Every Gazan doctor who refused to leave his or her post during the genocide is a hero. Every health worker who risked his or her life to save others represents a model of courage that should be emulated everywhere. And every doctor killed, wounded, or detained deserves to be remembered as the highest expression of human commitment to life.

Dr. Abu Safiya embodies all of them.

He is not unique — and that is precisely the point. He is the collective face of a medical community that refused to abandon its people, even as the system around it collapsed.

At Kamal Adwan Hospital in northern Gaza, Abu Safiya remained at his post as Israeli forces advanced on the facility, already overwhelmed by waves of wounded and displaced civilians. Despite shortages of fuel, medicine, and staff, he continued to treat patients while helping to protect those sheltering inside the hospital compound.

In the final days before his detention on December 27, 2024, he was among the last senior doctors still operating in the hospital, overseeing care under conditions that defy any conventional understanding of medical practice.

One image came to define him.

Standing amid the ruins outside Kamal Adwan Hospital, surrounded by destruction, he walked alone in his white coat toward advancing Israeli armored vehicles — a lone doctor facing a war machine. The image circulated widely because it captured, in a single frame, the reality of Gaza: those who heal standing unarmed before those who destroy.

That destruction remains in effect today, even as global attention has shifted elsewhere, compounding the danger facing a besieged Gaza. “Israel must release Dr. Abu Safiya and all healthcare workers,” said UN experts. Israel should also release all Palestinian prisoners, lift the siege, and end the genocide in its entirety.

“States have the power to end his torment,” they said. They are not wrong — and there can be no moral or legal justification for their inaction.

Dr. Ramzy Baroud is a journalist, author and the Editor of The Palestine Chronicle.

4 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

US special forces launch rescue operation inside Iran after downing of US fighter jet

By Andre Damon

What will the costs of the latest round of illegal, ill-fated U.S. military adventurism in the Middle East amount to? Some of the toll is already clear. Washington has squandered billions of dollars on a reckless war of aggression against Iran. A merciless campaign of aerial bombardment has driven millions from their homes. American and Israeli airstrikes have rained destruction on 10,000 civilian sites and already killed more than 3,000 people in Iran and Lebanon. Among the dead are more than 200 children, many killed in a U.S. strike on a girls’ school, a war crime that evokes the grim precedent of such past American atrocities as the 1968 My Lai massacre in Vietnam or the 1991 Amiriyah shelter bombing in Iraq.

The latest war has also dealt a potentially fatal blow to our already battered democratic institutions. It’s a war neither authorized by Congress nor supported by the public. Instead, it was launched by a president who refuses to submit to the law or heed the will of the people, claiming in true authoritarian fashion that he is the law, and that he alone embodies the popular will.

Such democratic backsliding has, however, been decades in the making, a predictable result of longstanding imperial impunity. Yet we may rapidly be approaching a point of no return. Even George W. Bush, in launching his catastrophic wars of choice in the region, sought to manufacture consent and present the case before the United Nations. Today, there is neither the pretense of legality nor of legitimacy.

The costs associated with this latest criminal war, measured in human lives; the misappropriation of national resources; and the erosion of the rule of law will only continue to mount. Yet there is also a less visible, less immediate price tag for such wars. If the history of American interventions in the region offers any guide, the full bill will likely not become apparent for months, years, or even decades. When it finally arrives, however, it will carry a familiar name: blowback.

For that reason, it’s important at this moment to recall the lessons Washington appears determined to forget. From Afghanistan to Iran, Iraq to Libya, the record is unmistakable. Yet as long as the historical amnesia that grips this country’s political establishment remains unchallenged, the same cycles of escalation and reprisal will undoubtedly persist in the years to come, threatening to once again draw the United States (and much of the world) ever deeper into the abyss of forever war.

Oil and the Engine of Empire

While the post-9/11 “war on terror” is often invoked as the starting point of U.S. militarism in the Middle East, the roots of conflict there stretch back nearly a century. The violence and instability unleashed after the attacks of September 11, 2001, represented less a rupture with the past than a continuation of long-established patterns of U.S. policy. The seeds of the forever wars had, in fact, been planted decades earlier in the oil-rich soil of the region.

Direct American involvement began in the previous century in the years between the First and Second World Wars. By that point, petroleum had become not merely a valuable commodity but a strategic necessity for sustaining a modern industrial economy. The vast oil reserves discovered in the United States had propelled the American economy to global prominence and played a decisive role in fueling the Allied war effort during World War I. Yet policymakers in Washington understood that domestic reserves were finite. As petroleum became synonymous with power, economically, militarily, and politically, the United States increasingly turned abroad to secure new sources.

The Middle East emerged as a critical frontier in that search, drawing the region ever more tightly into the orbit of an expanding American empire. In 1933, Standard Oil of California secured an exploratory concession with the conservative monarchy of Saudi Arabia. The agreement created the Arabian American Oil Company (ARAMCO), laying the groundwork for the 1945 U.S.-Saudi oil-for-security partnership that would become central to Washington’s future influence over the region’s geopolitical order.

Over the years, the insatiable thirst for oil only drew the United States ever deeper into the region. By 1953, American intervention assumed more overtly coercive forms. That year, in coordination with British intelligence, the CIA orchestrated the overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh, Iran’s popular prime minister, who had committed a cardinal sin in the emerging Cold War years. In 1951, he presided over the nationalization of his country’s oil industry in an effort to return sovereign control of its resources to the Iranian people by wresting them from the exploitative grip of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, the precursor to British Petroleum.

Despite his staunchly nationalist rather than communist credentials, a fact understood in Tehran, London, and Washington, Mossadegh would then be cast as, at worst, a dangerous proxy of the Soviet Union and, at best, a threat to regional stability (as in, American hegemony). The coup that followed ended Iran’s fragile democratic experiment, secured continued access to Iranian oil for Western companies, and restored the Shah of Iran to power. His regime would then be sustained by a steady outward flow of oil and a nearly endless influx of U.S. weaponry. With CIA backing, his secret police, SAVAK, would terrorize and torture a generation of Iranians.

Yet Washington celebrated this new arrangement, claiming that Iran had been transformed into an “island of stability,” and a cornerstone of the “twin pillar strategy,” in which Washington would outsource regional Cold War policing to compliant authoritarian allies in Iran and Saudi Arabia. Such subversion of nationalist movements and support for despotic monarchies, as well as the increasingly unequivocal backing of Israel, would generate intense backlash. Among the most visible early expressions of that was the 1973 OPEC oil crisis, demonstrating how U.S. policy in the Middle East could reverberate domestically.

But the first unmistakable case of blowback arrived in 1979 with the Iranian Revolution. In that country, discontent had been simmering beneath the seemingly stable façade of the Shah’s rule for years. When the monarchy collapsed after months of protests and repression, the Islamic Republic would fill the political vacuum, drawing on the theological language of Shi’ism and the political rhetoric of opposition to the Shah, the United States, and Israel.

In the U.S., those developments were largely stripped of their historical context. Americans were instead cast as the innocent victims of irrational fanaticism. Why do they hate us? was the refrain that echoed across the Western media and the answers offered rarely confronted the long history of intervention and exploitation. Instead, they defaulted to a supposed civilizational conflict with Islam, which was portrayed as inherently antagonistic to “Western values.”

Such explanations obscured an uncomfortable reality — that the U.S. had repeatedly undermined democracy across the region (as well as in other parts of the world) to advance its own interests. As a Pentagon commission report in 2004 acknowledged, the problem was not that people “hate our freedoms,” as President George W. Bush had reductively claimed, but that many “hate our policies.” In other words, the attacks on New York City and the Pentagon in Washington on September 11, 2001, were the ultimate, if deeply disturbing, expression of blowback.

Revolution and Counterrevolution in the Persian Gulf

Those widely resented policies from Washington were reinforced by its overreaction to the 1979 upheaval in Iran. That country’s new leader, Ayatollah Khomeini, sought not only to transform Iranian society internally but envisioned the Islamic Republic as the opening move in a broader anti-imperialist struggle across the Middle East. For Washington and its reactionary regional allies, the specter of such potential revolutionary contagion posed a profound threat.

In January 1980, in an attempt to contain the Iranian regime, President Jimmy Carter articulated a new foreign policy position that placed the U.S. on a collision course in the region. The Carter Doctrine declared the Persian Gulf a “vital interest” of the United States, warning that any attempt by an outside power to gain control would be repelled by “any means necessary, including military force.” In that fashion, Washington asserted an explicit claim to a protectorate thousands of miles from its shores. The United States, Carter made clear, was prepared to send soldiers there to ensure uninterrupted access to oil.

The strategic reorientation that followed proved violent and far-reaching, while marking a shift away from East and Southeast Asia as the principal theaters of Cold War conflict. As Andrew Bacevich observed in his book America’s War for the Greater Middle East, if you were to measure U.S. involvement by the number of troops killed in action, the transformation was striking. From the end of World War II to 1980 almost no American soldiers were killed in the region. Since 1990, however, virtually none have been killed anywhere except in what Bacevich termed the “Greater Middle East.”

Measured in American lives alone, the subsequent costs would number in the thousands. Measured in civilians killed across the region, the toll would be vastly greater. Over the past several decades U.S.-led or -backed wars have contributed to the deaths of millions of people and the displacement of tens of millions more, producing one of the most devastating population catastrophes since the end of World War II.

Proxy Wars and the Escalation Trap

The American shift toward the Middle East ensured that the United States would become deeply entwined in a cascade of conflicts. As regional actors moved either to defend a fragile status quo or exploit the upheavals that followed, Washington began instigating new conflicts in the region.

In Baghdad, Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein opposed the new government in Tehran on ideological and strategic grounds. The emergence of a revolutionary Shi’a state next door threatened his Sunni-dominated Ba’athist regime that ruled over a Shi’a majority in Iraq. At the same time, Saddam sought to exploit what he perceived to be Iranian weakness, pressing longstanding revanchist claims to the oil-rich borderlands of southwestern Iran.

Saudi Arabia viewed these developments with similar alarm. In the capital Riyadh, policymakers feared that revolutionary Shi’ism might threaten the legitimacy of the kingdom’s Sunni Wahhabi monarchy. The call for a Shi’a revolution also raised concerns about unrest in its oil-rich Eastern Province, where Shi’a workers faced economic exploitation and near colonial conditions. Similar anxieties reverberated across the other Gulf monarchies.

The United States responded by doubling down on support for the remaining pillars of its regional order, Saudi Arabia and Israel, while seeking to contain and roll back the perceived threat posed by Iran. Still interpreting regional upheaval through the prism of the Cold War, U.S. policymakers also expanded their involvement elsewhere. In Afghanistan, the CIA launched the largest covert operation in its history, channeling weapons and support to the Afghan mujahideen resisting the Soviet Union’s occupation of that country that began in December 1979.

The Soviet intervention itself was shaped by the shockwaves of the Iranian Revolution. Leaders in Moscow feared a militant Islam on their southern flank that might embolden similar currents within Muslim-majority regions of the Soviet Union.

In Iraq, the U.S. publicly tilted toward Saddam Hussein while simultaneously engaging in illegal weapons sales to Iran, with the funds received being rerouted to bankroll another American-backed war in Nicaragua. Meanwhile, the Lebanese Civil War, worsened by Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon, created the conditions for the rise of Hezbollah, which presented itself as a defender of marginalized Shi’a communities against Israeli military aggression and sectarian violence.

By 1986, after escalating regional violence and spill-over, the administration of President Ronald Reagan took a step that paved the way for what would, in the next century, become Washington’s “War on Terror.” In April of that year, Reagan launched airstrikes in the dense heart of Tripoli on the home of Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi, holding him responsible for acts of non-state terrorism abroad, including support for armed movements from the Palestine Liberation Organization to the Irish Republican Army.

That operation marked a significant escalation in the region and its justification would later be formalized as the Bush Doctrine: the claim that Washington could wage preemptive war anywhere against any state accused of supporting terrorism inside its country or outside its borders. That doctrine was no less illegitimate, illegal, or dangerous in the 1980s than it would become two decades later. As Daniel Ellsberg observed then (a point he would continue to press throughout his life, including after President Barack Obama ordered similar strikes on Libya in 2011), it seemed that the U.S. had “adopted a public policy of responding to state-sponsored terrorism with U.S. state-sponsored terrorism.”

In each instance, deeper involvement in the region produced deeper backlash. The U.S.-backed Afghan jihad helped give rise to Al-Qaeda in 1988 and paved the way for the Taliban’s seizure of power in 1996 and the failed 20-year American war in Afghanistan. The Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s set in motion a chain of events that culminated in the Gulf War of 1991, which laid the groundwork for the criminal 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq. The instability that followed not only expanded Iran’s regional influence but contributed to the emergence of the Islamic State. In Lebanon, the power vacuum that Hezbollah came to fill resulted in the 1983 barracks bombing in Beirut, the deadliest day for U.S. Marines since Iwo Jima.

The Lesson Not Learned

The pattern is difficult to ignore, despite our government’s persistent efforts to do so. Many of the actors Washington came to identify as its principal adversaries emerged either in direct response to U.S. policies or had themselves once been cultivated by Washington in pursuit of short-sighted strategic aims. In case after case, conflicts initiated or intensified by the United States appeared to subside, only to reemerge in new, more volatile forms. Intervention produced instability; instability served to justify further interventions; and the cycle only repeated itself thereafter.

There is little reason to believe that Donald Trump’s war against Iran will prove any different. By now, the historical record should make that clear, which is why we must oppose the violence being carried out in our name, as it is wrong, criminal, and immoral. We must oppose it for the sake of our common humanity, but also for our own sake.

After all, history tells us one thing: when we wage unjust wars that terrorize distant populations in far-off lands, the violence rarely remains confined there. Sooner or later, in one form or another, it returns. Violence begets violence, and imperial war has a way of boomeranging back upon those who initiate it. We reap what we sow; the chickens, in time, invariably come home to roost.

Eric Ross is an organizer, educator, and PhD candidate in the history department at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.From its inception, the American presidency has bound immense destructive capacity to the temperament of a single individual. It is an office that concentrates not only authority but impulse by placing a military juggernaut in the hands of an individual.

Alice Roosevelt once distilled this dynamic with biting precision, remarking that her father (President Roosevelt) wished “to be the corpse at every funeral, the bride at every wedding and the baby at every christening.” Beneath the wit lay the indictment of an untethered ego.

Today, that strain of vanity has been eclipsed by Donald Trump. Ego is not merely a trait but an overarching principle that has converted statecraft into spectacle. Personal whims are reality; any contradiction is a threat. What emerges is more than political volatility; it is a destabilization that seeps outward, unsettling the fragile architecture of international order.

Clinical insight offers a useful lens. Mary Trump is a psychologist and Donald Trump’s niece. She describes a “monstrous ego” that has reduced the Oval Office into an arena of impulse and dominance. According to her, Trump’s core team is not a cabinet of peers but a collection of enablers. She calls them “weaker, more craven and just as desperate.” Within such a structure, advisers become amplifiers, selected less for judgment than for their willingness to reflect and reinforce.

The fallout sees governance morphing into spectacle. Its logic is laid bare in self-inscribed tokens of power like Trump’s commemorative gold coins and his signatures emblazoning future currency notes. Contagious, it results in loyalists curating the same iconography. Kash Patel’s personalized sneakers with his own and the FBI initials to Pete Hegseth’s conspicuous tattoos; governance morphs into an orbit of narcissism.

The most dangerous aspect of this dogma is what psychologists identify as narcissistic injury. This is the moment when reality refuses to conform with delusions. Within an individual, the fallout is contained. In a president, it has ruinous consequences. Slights are magnified and setbacks personalized. Decision-making, under these conditions, is less a calculation of consequence than a destructive reflex of conserving self-image.

The recent purge within the Pentagon should be understood in this context. It is not an act of strategic recalibration. Finding scapegoats is a desperate gesture of portraying control. Supposed to cauterize wounded pride, it is merely a balm for the bruising realization of a feckless conflict with Iran. In such moments, governance ceases to be an instrument of statecraft and becomes an apparatus of psychological self-preservation.

In such conditions, truth inevitably becomes malleable. It is distorted, diluted or outrightly discarded. The pattern is not new. The claims of WMDs that initiated the 2003 Iraq invasion were totally fabricated. The tragedy that saw over a million perish was an irreversible reality.

This demonstrates the disastrous consequences when deception is institutionalized to validate the self at all costs. This paradigm is starkly visible again in the narratives enabling the Gaza genocide and the strikes on Iran. Curated intelligence reports and the ever-shifting justifications make a mockery of established facts.

In “The Second Coming”, Yeats laments the incarnation of ruin: “What rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?” In his vision, the disintegration of order did not herald a new one but the emergence of something unrestrained and primal. The destruction wrought by narcissism is far more insidious. It does not emerge from chaos; it engineers it. Conflict and disorder become an assertion of self.

History offers fewer poetic parallels. Roman Emperor Caligula governed through spectacle and fear. He was known for his cruelty in prolonging his victims’ sufferings. Through their entire ordeal, he had these words of Roman tragedian Lucius Accius on his lips – oderint dum metuant – let them hate, so long as they fear me.

In the modern era, such a mindset carries unprecedented stakes. The fusion of personal volatility with nuclear capability renders miscalculation existential. John Kennedy warned about a Pax Americana enforced on the world by American weapons of war. He called it “peace of the grave or security of the slave.” – subjugation or annihilation. This is the calamitous binary that we see invoked from Gaza to Iran. The strikes on Iran and its retaliation starkly illustrates how quickly provocation and response can spiral beyond initial intent. What began as an assertion of might has morphed into a destructive conflagration.

The world remains riveted with Iran. Gaza, with its ongoing sufferings has become a sidelined tragedy. In one case, resistance commands attention; in the other, endurance slips from view. The defining pathology is the chilling distillation of an egocracy where sanity has been subsumed by one man’s unbounded ego that cannot bear the ignominy of his being diminished. This is the ultimate manifestation of Trump’s Egocracy.

Mir Adnan Aziz explores the forces which shape power, belief and society. He can be reached at miradnanaziz@gmail.comIranian air defenses shot down an F-15E Strike Eagle jet over western Iran Friday, the first US aircraft shot down by Iranian fire since the war began. Following the downing, US special forces launched a rescue operation inside Iran to recover the pilot. Axios reported that “US special forces located one of the crew members and rescued him, alive, on Iranian territory.” The other crew member remains missing inside Iran.

The rescue operation came as roughly 7,500 Marines from three Marine Expeditionary Units and a combat brigade from the 82nd Airborne Division’s Immediate Response Force arrived or were en route to the Persian Gulf, joining more than 50,000 US service members already in the region. The buildup points toward a ground invasion.

Following the downing of the aircraft, President Donald Trump wrote on Truth Social: “With a little more time, we can easily OPEN THE HORMUZ STRAIT, TAKE THE OIL, & MAKE A FORTUNE.” Seizing Iran’s oil would require a ground invasion and occupation.

A second aircraft, an A-10 Thunderbolt, was shot down in a separate incident the same day. The pilot ejected over Kuwaiti airspace and was rescued. Two HH-60G rescue helicopters sent to recover the F-15E’s crew were also hit by Iranian fire, injuring US personnel aboard before returning to base. In all, four American aircraft were struck in a single day—the worst losses of the five-week war.

The shoot-downs came two days after Trump addressed the nation in a prime time speech in which he threatened to destroy Iranian society. “We are going to hit them extremely hard over the next two to three weeks,” Trump said Wednesday. “We are going to bring them back to the stone ages, where they belong.” He threatened to hit “each and every one of their electric generating plants,” and said he had not yet struck Iran’s oil only because doing so “would not give them even a small chance of survival or rebuilding.”

“We are on track to complete all of America’s military objectives shortly, very shortly,” Trump said in the same speech. “They have no antiaircraft equipment. Their radar is 100 percent annihilated. We are unstoppable as a military force.” Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth declared on March 31: “Iran knows that, and there’s almost nothing they can militarily do about it.” Forty-eight hours later, Iran shot an American fighter jet out of the sky.

As the Intercept noted, “Neither the White House nor the Pentagon responded to requests for comment on how Iran could down an advanced US aircraft when the country supposedly no longer possesses anti-aircraft weaponry.” The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) claimed responsibility for the shoot-down.

The Washington Post verified footage of US refueling and rescue aircraft operating roughly 90 miles inside Iranian territory. Mark Cancian, a senior adviser at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), said the low-altitude flights indicated “willingness to take a lot of risk.”

Meanwhile, Politico reported Friday that US officials were warning that the military was running out of targets to strike. Roughly half of Iran’s ballistic missile launchers remain intact despite more than 12,000 US and Israeli strikes since February 28. The New York Times reported that Iranian operatives have been digging out underground bunkers struck by American and Israeli bombs and returning them to operation within hours. Iran is deploying decoys, making it difficult for US intelligence to assess how many launchers have actually been destroyed.

The destruction continues to widen. On Thursday, Trump posted footage of US strikes hitting the newly constructed B1 bridge between Tehran and Karaj, which was due to open this year. Trump wrote: “Bridges next, then Electric Power Plants!”

On Friday, a drone struck a Red Crescent relief warehouse in Iran’s southern Bushehr province. Shahid Beheshti University in Tehran, one of the country’s most prominent institutions, was hit during strikes on the capital. Iran has struck back at Gulf energy infrastructure—hitting a power and water desalination plant in Kuwait and a Kuwait Petroleum refinery, underscoring the vulnerability of Gulf states that depend on desalination for drinking water.

Five weeks of bombing have killed more than 5,000 people, the vast majority of them Iranian civilians. More than 85,000 civilian structures have been damaged, including 64,000 homes and 600 schools. Between 3 and 4 million Iranians have been internally displaced. Iran’s 90 million people have been cut off from the outside world by a near-total internet blackout since February 28.

Thirteen American service members have been killed and nearly 370 wounded. Brent crude has surged more than 60 percent and gasoline has passed $4 a gallon. The war has cost at least $25 billion—and the administration is asking for more.

On Friday, Trump released the largest defense budget in American history: a $1.5 trillion Pentagon request for fiscal year 2027, a 44 percent increase. The budget cuts the Environmental Protection Agency by 52 percent, the State Department by 30 percent and NASA by 23 percent. It eliminates the National Endowment for Democracy. It cuts $73 billion from environmental, health and education research to pay for warships, missiles and a “Golden Dome” missile defense system. Jessica Riedl, a budget analyst at the Brookings Institution, said the purpose of the budget is “to push Congress to approve the largest defense spending increase since the Korean War.”

The war is expanding. Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz announced that the Israel Defense Forces will demolish all homes in Lebanese border villages “like in Rafah and Beit Hanoun.” More than 600,000 Lebanese have fled their homes. Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich has called for making the Litani River Israel’s new northern border.

Originally published in WSWS.ORG

4 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

Trump’s Egocracy

By Mir Adnan Aziz

What will the costs of the latest round of illegal, ill-fated U.S. military adventurism in the Middle East amount to? Some of the toll is already clear. Washington has squandered billions of dollars on a reckless war of aggression against Iran. A merciless campaign of aerial bombardment has driven millions from their homes. American and Israeli airstrikes have rained destruction on 10,000 civilian sites and already killed more than 3,000 people in Iran and Lebanon. Among the dead are more than 200 children, many killed in a U.S. strike on a girls’ school, a war crime that evokes the grim precedent of such past American atrocities as the 1968 My Lai massacre in Vietnam or the 1991 Amiriyah shelter bombing in Iraq.

The latest war has also dealt a potentially fatal blow to our already battered democratic institutions. It’s a war neither authorized by Congress nor supported by the public. Instead, it was launched by a president who refuses to submit to the law or heed the will of the people, claiming in true authoritarian fashion that he is the law, and that he alone embodies the popular will.

Such democratic backsliding has, however, been decades in the making, a predictable result of longstanding imperial impunity. Yet we may rapidly be approaching a point of no return. Even George W. Bush, in launching his catastrophic wars of choice in the region, sought to manufacture consent and present the case before the United Nations. Today, there is neither the pretense of legality nor of legitimacy.

The costs associated with this latest criminal war, measured in human lives; the misappropriation of national resources; and the erosion of the rule of law will only continue to mount. Yet there is also a less visible, less immediate price tag for such wars. If the history of American interventions in the region offers any guide, the full bill will likely not become apparent for months, years, or even decades. When it finally arrives, however, it will carry a familiar name: blowback.

For that reason, it’s important at this moment to recall the lessons Washington appears determined to forget. From Afghanistan to Iran, Iraq to Libya, the record is unmistakable. Yet as long as the historical amnesia that grips this country’s political establishment remains unchallenged, the same cycles of escalation and reprisal will undoubtedly persist in the years to come, threatening to once again draw the United States (and much of the world) ever deeper into the abyss of forever war.

Oil and the Engine of Empire

While the post-9/11 “war on terror” is often invoked as the starting point of U.S. militarism in the Middle East, the roots of conflict there stretch back nearly a century. The violence and instability unleashed after the attacks of September 11, 2001, represented less a rupture with the past than a continuation of long-established patterns of U.S. policy. The seeds of the forever wars had, in fact, been planted decades earlier in the oil-rich soil of the region.

Direct American involvement began in the previous century in the years between the First and Second World Wars. By that point, petroleum had become not merely a valuable commodity but a strategic necessity for sustaining a modern industrial economy. The vast oil reserves discovered in the United States had propelled the American economy to global prominence and played a decisive role in fueling the Allied war effort during World War I. Yet policymakers in Washington understood that domestic reserves were finite. As petroleum became synonymous with power, economically, militarily, and politically, the United States increasingly turned abroad to secure new sources.

The Middle East emerged as a critical frontier in that search, drawing the region ever more tightly into the orbit of an expanding American empire. In 1933, Standard Oil of California secured an exploratory concession with the conservative monarchy of Saudi Arabia. The agreement created the Arabian American Oil Company (ARAMCO), laying the groundwork for the 1945 U.S.-Saudi oil-for-security partnership that would become central to Washington’s future influence over the region’s geopolitical order.

Over the years, the insatiable thirst for oil only drew the United States ever deeper into the region. By 1953, American intervention assumed more overtly coercive forms. That year, in coordination with British intelligence, the CIA orchestrated the overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh, Iran’s popular prime minister, who had committed a cardinal sin in the emerging Cold War years. In 1951, he presided over the nationalization of his country’s oil industry in an effort to return sovereign control of its resources to the Iranian people by wresting them from the exploitative grip of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, the precursor to British Petroleum.

Despite his staunchly nationalist rather than communist credentials, a fact understood in Tehran, London, and Washington, Mossadegh would then be cast as, at worst, a dangerous proxy of the Soviet Union and, at best, a threat to regional stability (as in, American hegemony). The coup that followed ended Iran’s fragile democratic experiment, secured continued access to Iranian oil for Western companies, and restored the Shah of Iran to power. His regime would then be sustained by a steady outward flow of oil and a nearly endless influx of U.S. weaponry. With CIA backing, his secret police, SAVAK, would terrorize and torture a generation of Iranians.

Yet Washington celebrated this new arrangement, claiming that Iran had been transformed into an “island of stability,” and a cornerstone of the “twin pillar strategy,” in which Washington would outsource regional Cold War policing to compliant authoritarian allies in Iran and Saudi Arabia. Such subversion of nationalist movements and support for despotic monarchies, as well as the increasingly unequivocal backing of Israel, would generate intense backlash. Among the most visible early expressions of that was the 1973 OPEC oil crisis, demonstrating how U.S. policy in the Middle East could reverberate domestically.

But the first unmistakable case of blowback arrived in 1979 with the Iranian Revolution. In that country, discontent had been simmering beneath the seemingly stable façade of the Shah’s rule for years. When the monarchy collapsed after months of protests and repression, the Islamic Republic would fill the political vacuum, drawing on the theological language of Shi’ism and the political rhetoric of opposition to the Shah, the United States, and Israel.

In the U.S., those developments were largely stripped of their historical context. Americans were instead cast as the innocent victims of irrational fanaticism. Why do they hate us? was the refrain that echoed across the Western media and the answers offered rarely confronted the long history of intervention and exploitation. Instead, they defaulted to a supposed civilizational conflict with Islam, which was portrayed as inherently antagonistic to “Western values.”

Such explanations obscured an uncomfortable reality — that the U.S. had repeatedly undermined democracy across the region (as well as in other parts of the world) to advance its own interests. As a Pentagon commission report in 2004 acknowledged, the problem was not that people “hate our freedoms,” as President George W. Bush had reductively claimed, but that many “hate our policies.” In other words, the attacks on New York City and the Pentagon in Washington on September 11, 2001, were the ultimate, if deeply disturbing, expression of blowback.

Revolution and Counterrevolution in the Persian Gulf

Those widely resented policies from Washington were reinforced by its overreaction to the 1979 upheaval in Iran. That country’s new leader, Ayatollah Khomeini, sought not only to transform Iranian society internally but envisioned the Islamic Republic as the opening move in a broader anti-imperialist struggle across the Middle East. For Washington and its reactionary regional allies, the specter of such potential revolutionary contagion posed a profound threat.

In January 1980, in an attempt to contain the Iranian regime, President Jimmy Carter articulated a new foreign policy position that placed the U.S. on a collision course in the region. The Carter Doctrine declared the Persian Gulf a “vital interest” of the United States, warning that any attempt by an outside power to gain control would be repelled by “any means necessary, including military force.” In that fashion, Washington asserted an explicit claim to a protectorate thousands of miles from its shores. The United States, Carter made clear, was prepared to send soldiers there to ensure uninterrupted access to oil.

The strategic reorientation that followed proved violent and far-reaching, while marking a shift away from East and Southeast Asia as the principal theaters of Cold War conflict. As Andrew Bacevich observed in his book America’s War for the Greater Middle East, if you were to measure U.S. involvement by the number of troops killed in action, the transformation was striking. From the end of World War II to 1980 almost no American soldiers were killed in the region. Since 1990, however, virtually none have been killed anywhere except in what Bacevich termed the “Greater Middle East.”

Measured in American lives alone, the subsequent costs would number in the thousands. Measured in civilians killed across the region, the toll would be vastly greater. Over the past several decades U.S.-led or -backed wars have contributed to the deaths of millions of people and the displacement of tens of millions more, producing one of the most devastating population catastrophes since the end of World War II.

Proxy Wars and the Escalation Trap

The American shift toward the Middle East ensured that the United States would become deeply entwined in a cascade of conflicts. As regional actors moved either to defend a fragile status quo or exploit the upheavals that followed, Washington began instigating new conflicts in the region.

In Baghdad, Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein opposed the new government in Tehran on ideological and strategic grounds. The emergence of a revolutionary Shi’a state next door threatened his Sunni-dominated Ba’athist regime that ruled over a Shi’a majority in Iraq. At the same time, Saddam sought to exploit what he perceived to be Iranian weakness, pressing longstanding revanchist claims to the oil-rich borderlands of southwestern Iran.

Saudi Arabia viewed these developments with similar alarm. In the capital Riyadh, policymakers feared that revolutionary Shi’ism might threaten the legitimacy of the kingdom’s Sunni Wahhabi monarchy. The call for a Shi’a revolution also raised concerns about unrest in its oil-rich Eastern Province, where Shi’a workers faced economic exploitation and near colonial conditions. Similar anxieties reverberated across the other Gulf monarchies.

The United States responded by doubling down on support for the remaining pillars of its regional order, Saudi Arabia and Israel, while seeking to contain and roll back the perceived threat posed by Iran. Still interpreting regional upheaval through the prism of the Cold War, U.S. policymakers also expanded their involvement elsewhere. In Afghanistan, the CIA launched the largest covert operation in its history, channeling weapons and support to the Afghan mujahideen resisting the Soviet Union’s occupation of that country that began in December 1979.

The Soviet intervention itself was shaped by the shockwaves of the Iranian Revolution. Leaders in Moscow feared a militant Islam on their southern flank that might embolden similar currents within Muslim-majority regions of the Soviet Union.

In Iraq, the U.S. publicly tilted toward Saddam Hussein while simultaneously engaging in illegal weapons sales to Iran, with the funds received being rerouted to bankroll another American-backed war in Nicaragua. Meanwhile, the Lebanese Civil War, worsened by Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon, created the conditions for the rise of Hezbollah, which presented itself as a defender of marginalized Shi’a communities against Israeli military aggression and sectarian violence.

By 1986, after escalating regional violence and spill-over, the administration of President Ronald Reagan took a step that paved the way for what would, in the next century, become Washington’s “War on Terror.” In April of that year, Reagan launched airstrikes in the dense heart of Tripoli on the home of Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi, holding him responsible for acts of non-state terrorism abroad, including support for armed movements from the Palestine Liberation Organization to the Irish Republican Army.

That operation marked a significant escalation in the region and its justification would later be formalized as the Bush Doctrine: the claim that Washington could wage preemptive war anywhere against any state accused of supporting terrorism inside its country or outside its borders. That doctrine was no less illegitimate, illegal, or dangerous in the 1980s than it would become two decades later. As Daniel Ellsberg observed then (a point he would continue to press throughout his life, including after President Barack Obama ordered similar strikes on Libya in 2011), it seemed that the U.S. had “adopted a public policy of responding to state-sponsored terrorism with U.S. state-sponsored terrorism.”

In each instance, deeper involvement in the region produced deeper backlash. The U.S.-backed Afghan jihad helped give rise to Al-Qaeda in 1988 and paved the way for the Taliban’s seizure of power in 1996 and the failed 20-year American war in Afghanistan. The Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s set in motion a chain of events that culminated in the Gulf War of 1991, which laid the groundwork for the criminal 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq. The instability that followed not only expanded Iran’s regional influence but contributed to the emergence of the Islamic State. In Lebanon, the power vacuum that Hezbollah came to fill resulted in the 1983 barracks bombing in Beirut, the deadliest day for U.S. Marines since Iwo Jima.

The Lesson Not Learned

The pattern is difficult to ignore, despite our government’s persistent efforts to do so. Many of the actors Washington came to identify as its principal adversaries emerged either in direct response to U.S. policies or had themselves once been cultivated by Washington in pursuit of short-sighted strategic aims. In case after case, conflicts initiated or intensified by the United States appeared to subside, only to reemerge in new, more volatile forms. Intervention produced instability; instability served to justify further interventions; and the cycle only repeated itself thereafter.

There is little reason to believe that Donald Trump’s war against Iran will prove any different. By now, the historical record should make that clear, which is why we must oppose the violence being carried out in our name, as it is wrong, criminal, and immoral. We must oppose it for the sake of our common humanity, but also for our own sake.

After all, history tells us one thing: when we wage unjust wars that terrorize distant populations in far-off lands, the violence rarely remains confined there. Sooner or later, in one form or another, it returns. Violence begets violence, and imperial war has a way of boomeranging back upon those who initiate it. We reap what we sow; the chickens, in time, invariably come home to roost.

Eric Ross is an organizer, educator, and PhD candidate in the history department at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.From its inception, the American presidency has bound immense destructive capacity to the temperament of a single individual. It is an office that concentrates not only authority but impulse by placing a military juggernaut in the hands of an individual.

Alice Roosevelt once distilled this dynamic with biting precision, remarking that her father (President Roosevelt) wished “to be the corpse at every funeral, the bride at every wedding and the baby at every christening.” Beneath the wit lay the indictment of an untethered ego.

Today, that strain of vanity has been eclipsed by Donald Trump. Ego is not merely a trait but an overarching principle that has converted statecraft into spectacle. Personal whims are reality; any contradiction is a threat. What emerges is more than political volatility; it is a destabilization that seeps outward, unsettling the fragile architecture of international order.

Clinical insight offers a useful lens. Mary Trump is a psychologist and Donald Trump’s niece. She describes a “monstrous ego” that has reduced the Oval Office into an arena of impulse and dominance. According to her, Trump’s core team is not a cabinet of peers but a collection of enablers. She calls them “weaker, more craven and just as desperate.” Within such a structure, advisers become amplifiers, selected less for judgment than for their willingness to reflect and reinforce.

The fallout sees governance morphing into spectacle. Its logic is laid bare in self-inscribed tokens of power like Trump’s commemorative gold coins and his signatures emblazoning future currency notes. Contagious, it results in loyalists curating the same iconography. Kash Patel’s personalized sneakers with his own and the FBI initials to Pete Hegseth’s conspicuous tattoos; governance morphs into an orbit of narcissism.

The most dangerous aspect of this dogma is what psychologists identify as narcissistic injury. This is the moment when reality refuses to conform with delusions. Within an individual, the fallout is contained. In a president, it has ruinous consequences. Slights are magnified and setbacks personalized. Decision-making, under these conditions, is less a calculation of consequence than a destructive reflex of conserving self-image.

The recent purge within the Pentagon should be understood in this context. It is not an act of strategic recalibration. Finding scapegoats is a desperate gesture of portraying control. Supposed to cauterize wounded pride, it is merely a balm for the bruising realization of a feckless conflict with Iran. In such moments, governance ceases to be an instrument of statecraft and becomes an apparatus of psychological self-preservation.

In such conditions, truth inevitably becomes malleable. It is distorted, diluted or outrightly discarded. The pattern is not new. The claims of WMDs that initiated the 2003 Iraq invasion were totally fabricated. The tragedy that saw over a million perish was an irreversible reality.

This demonstrates the disastrous consequences when deception is institutionalized to validate the self at all costs. This paradigm is starkly visible again in the narratives enabling the Gaza genocide and the strikes on Iran. Curated intelligence reports and the ever-shifting justifications make a mockery of established facts.

In “The Second Coming”, Yeats laments the incarnation of ruin: “What rough beast, its hour come round at last, slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?” In his vision, the disintegration of order did not herald a new one but the emergence of something unrestrained and primal. The destruction wrought by narcissism is far more insidious. It does not emerge from chaos; it engineers it. Conflict and disorder become an assertion of self.

History offers fewer poetic parallels. Roman Emperor Caligula governed through spectacle and fear. He was known for his cruelty in prolonging his victims’ sufferings. Through their entire ordeal, he had these words of Roman tragedian Lucius Accius on his lips – oderint dum metuant – let them hate, so long as they fear me.

In the modern era, such a mindset carries unprecedented stakes. The fusion of personal volatility with nuclear capability renders miscalculation existential. John Kennedy warned about a Pax Americana enforced on the world by American weapons of war. He called it “peace of the grave or security of the slave.” – subjugation or annihilation. This is the calamitous binary that we see invoked from Gaza to Iran. The strikes on Iran and its retaliation starkly illustrates how quickly provocation and response can spiral beyond initial intent. What began as an assertion of might has morphed into a destructive conflagration.

The world remains riveted with Iran. Gaza, with its ongoing sufferings has become a sidelined tragedy. In one case, resistance commands attention; in the other, endurance slips from view. The defining pathology is the chilling distillation of an egocracy where sanity has been subsumed by one man’s unbounded ego that cannot bear the ignominy of his being diminished. This is the ultimate manifestation of Trump’s Egocracy.

Mir Adnan Aziz explores the forces which shape power, belief and society. He can be reached at miradnanaziz@gmail.com

3 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

The Price of Empire and the Costs of War on Iran

By Eric Ross

What will the costs of the latest round of illegal, ill-fated U.S. military adventurism in the Middle East amount to? Some of the toll is already clear. Washington has squandered billions of dollars on a reckless war of aggression against Iran. A merciless campaign of aerial bombardment has driven millions from their homes. American and Israeli airstrikes have rained destruction on 10,000 civilian sites and already killed more than 3,000 people in Iran and Lebanon. Among the dead are more than 200 children, many killed in a U.S. strike on a girls’ school, a war crime that evokes the grim precedent of such past American atrocities as the 1968 My Lai massacre in Vietnam or the 1991 Amiriyah shelter bombing in Iraq.

The latest war has also dealt a potentially fatal blow to our already battered democratic institutions. It’s a war neither authorized by Congress nor supported by the public. Instead, it was launched by a president who refuses to submit to the law or heed the will of the people, claiming in true authoritarian fashion that he is the law, and that he alone embodies the popular will.

Such democratic backsliding has, however, been decades in the making, a predictable result of longstanding imperial impunity. Yet we may rapidly be approaching a point of no return. Even George W. Bush, in launching his catastrophic wars of choice in the region, sought to manufacture consent and present the case before the United Nations. Today, there is neither the pretense of legality nor of legitimacy.

The costs associated with this latest criminal war, measured in human lives; the misappropriation of national resources; and the erosion of the rule of law will only continue to mount. Yet there is also a less visible, less immediate price tag for such wars. If the history of American interventions in the region offers any guide, the full bill will likely not become apparent for months, years, or even decades. When it finally arrives, however, it will carry a familiar name: blowback.

For that reason, it’s important at this moment to recall the lessons Washington appears determined to forget. From Afghanistan to Iran, Iraq to Libya, the record is unmistakable. Yet as long as the historical amnesia that grips this country’s political establishment remains unchallenged, the same cycles of escalation and reprisal will undoubtedly persist in the years to come, threatening to once again draw the United States (and much of the world) ever deeper into the abyss of forever war.

Oil and the Engine of Empire

While the post-9/11 “war on terror” is often invoked as the starting point of U.S. militarism in the Middle East, the roots of conflict there stretch back nearly a century. The violence and instability unleashed after the attacks of September 11, 2001, represented less a rupture with the past than a continuation of long-established patterns of U.S. policy. The seeds of the forever wars had, in fact, been planted decades earlier in the oil-rich soil of the region.

Direct American involvement began in the previous century in the years between the First and Second World Wars. By that point, petroleum had become not merely a valuable commodity but a strategic necessity for sustaining a modern industrial economy. The vast oil reserves discovered in the United States had propelled the American economy to global prominence and played a decisive role in fueling the Allied war effort during World War I. Yet policymakers in Washington understood that domestic reserves were finite. As petroleum became synonymous with power, economically, militarily, and politically, the United States increasingly turned abroad to secure new sources.

The Middle East emerged as a critical frontier in that search, drawing the region ever more tightly into the orbit of an expanding American empire. In 1933, Standard Oil of California secured an exploratory concession with the conservative monarchy of Saudi Arabia. The agreement created the Arabian American Oil Company (ARAMCO), laying the groundwork for the 1945 U.S.-Saudi oil-for-security partnership that would become central to Washington’s future influence over the region’s geopolitical order.

Over the years, the insatiable thirst for oil only drew the United States ever deeper into the region. By 1953, American intervention assumed more overtly coercive forms. That year, in coordination with British intelligence, the CIA orchestrated the overthrow of Mohammad Mossadegh, Iran’s popular prime minister, who had committed a cardinal sin in the emerging Cold War years. In 1951, he presided over the nationalization of his country’s oil industry in an effort to return sovereign control of its resources to the Iranian people by wresting them from the exploitative grip of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, the precursor to British Petroleum.

Despite his staunchly nationalist rather than communist credentials, a fact understood in Tehran, London, and Washington, Mossadegh would then be cast as, at worst, a dangerous proxy of the Soviet Union and, at best, a threat to regional stability (as in, American hegemony). The coup that followed ended Iran’s fragile democratic experiment, secured continued access to Iranian oil for Western companies, and restored the Shah of Iran to power. His regime would then be sustained by a steady outward flow of oil and a nearly endless influx of U.S. weaponry. With CIA backing, his secret police, SAVAK, would terrorize and torture a generation of Iranians.

Yet Washington celebrated this new arrangement, claiming that Iran had been transformed into an “island of stability,” and a cornerstone of the “twin pillar strategy,” in which Washington would outsource regional Cold War policing to compliant authoritarian allies in Iran and Saudi Arabia. Such subversion of nationalist movements and support for despotic monarchies, as well as the increasingly unequivocal backing of Israel, would generate intense backlash. Among the most visible early expressions of that was the 1973 OPEC oil crisis, demonstrating how U.S. policy in the Middle East could reverberate domestically.

But the first unmistakable case of blowback arrived in 1979 with the Iranian Revolution. In that country, discontent had been simmering beneath the seemingly stable façade of the Shah’s rule for years. When the monarchy collapsed after months of protests and repression, the Islamic Republic would fill the political vacuum, drawing on the theological language of Shi’ism and the political rhetoric of opposition to the Shah, the United States, and Israel.

In the U.S., those developments were largely stripped of their historical context. Americans were instead cast as the innocent victims of irrational fanaticism. Why do they hate us? was the refrain that echoed across the Western media and the answers offered rarely confronted the long history of intervention and exploitation. Instead, they defaulted to a supposed civilizational conflict with Islam, which was portrayed as inherently antagonistic to “Western values.”

Such explanations obscured an uncomfortable reality — that the U.S. had repeatedly undermined democracy across the region (as well as in other parts of the world) to advance its own interests. As a Pentagon commission report in 2004 acknowledged, the problem was not that people “hate our freedoms,” as President George W. Bush had reductively claimed, but that many “hate our policies.” In other words, the attacks on New York City and the Pentagon in Washington on September 11, 2001, were the ultimate, if deeply disturbing, expression of blowback.

Revolution and Counterrevolution in the Persian Gulf

Those widely resented policies from Washington were reinforced by its overreaction to the 1979 upheaval in Iran. That country’s new leader, Ayatollah Khomeini, sought not only to transform Iranian society internally but envisioned the Islamic Republic as the opening move in a broader anti-imperialist struggle across the Middle East. For Washington and its reactionary regional allies, the specter of such potential revolutionary contagion posed a profound threat.

In January 1980, in an attempt to contain the Iranian regime, President Jimmy Carter articulated a new foreign policy position that placed the U.S. on a collision course in the region. The Carter Doctrine declared the Persian Gulf a “vital interest” of the United States, warning that any attempt by an outside power to gain control would be repelled by “any means necessary, including military force.” In that fashion, Washington asserted an explicit claim to a protectorate thousands of miles from its shores. The United States, Carter made clear, was prepared to send soldiers there to ensure uninterrupted access to oil.

The strategic reorientation that followed proved violent and far-reaching, while marking a shift away from East and Southeast Asia as the principal theaters of Cold War conflict. As Andrew Bacevich observed in his book America’s War for the Greater Middle East, if you were to measure U.S. involvement by the number of troops killed in action, the transformation was striking. From the end of World War II to 1980 almost no American soldiers were killed in the region. Since 1990, however, virtually none have been killed anywhere except in what Bacevich termed the “Greater Middle East.”

Measured in American lives alone, the subsequent costs would number in the thousands. Measured in civilians killed across the region, the toll would be vastly greater. Over the past several decades U.S.-led or -backed wars have contributed to the deaths of millions of people and the displacement of tens of millions more, producing one of the most devastating population catastrophes since the end of World War II.

Proxy Wars and the Escalation Trap

The American shift toward the Middle East ensured that the United States would become deeply entwined in a cascade of conflicts. As regional actors moved either to defend a fragile status quo or exploit the upheavals that followed, Washington began instigating new conflicts in the region.

In Baghdad, Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein opposed the new government in Tehran on ideological and strategic grounds. The emergence of a revolutionary Shi’a state next door threatened his Sunni-dominated Ba’athist regime that ruled over a Shi’a majority in Iraq. At the same time, Saddam sought to exploit what he perceived to be Iranian weakness, pressing longstanding revanchist claims to the oil-rich borderlands of southwestern Iran.

Saudi Arabia viewed these developments with similar alarm. In the capital Riyadh, policymakers feared that revolutionary Shi’ism might threaten the legitimacy of the kingdom’s Sunni Wahhabi monarchy. The call for a Shi’a revolution also raised concerns about unrest in its oil-rich Eastern Province, where Shi’a workers faced economic exploitation and near colonial conditions. Similar anxieties reverberated across the other Gulf monarchies.

The United States responded by doubling down on support for the remaining pillars of its regional order, Saudi Arabia and Israel, while seeking to contain and roll back the perceived threat posed by Iran. Still interpreting regional upheaval through the prism of the Cold War, U.S. policymakers also expanded their involvement elsewhere. In Afghanistan, the CIA launched the largest covert operation in its history, channeling weapons and support to the Afghan mujahideen resisting the Soviet Union’s occupation of that country that began in December 1979.

The Soviet intervention itself was shaped by the shockwaves of the Iranian Revolution. Leaders in Moscow feared a militant Islam on their southern flank that might embolden similar currents within Muslim-majority regions of the Soviet Union.

In Iraq, the U.S. publicly tilted toward Saddam Hussein while simultaneously engaging in illegal weapons sales to Iran, with the funds received being rerouted to bankroll another American-backed war in Nicaragua. Meanwhile, the Lebanese Civil War, worsened by Israel’s 1982 invasion of Lebanon, created the conditions for the rise of Hezbollah, which presented itself as a defender of marginalized Shi’a communities against Israeli military aggression and sectarian violence.

By 1986, after escalating regional violence and spill-over, the administration of President Ronald Reagan took a step that paved the way for what would, in the next century, become Washington’s “War on Terror.” In April of that year, Reagan launched airstrikes in the dense heart of Tripoli on the home of Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi, holding him responsible for acts of non-state terrorism abroad, including support for armed movements from the Palestine Liberation Organization to the Irish Republican Army.

That operation marked a significant escalation in the region and its justification would later be formalized as the Bush Doctrine: the claim that Washington could wage preemptive war anywhere against any state accused of supporting terrorism inside its country or outside its borders. That doctrine was no less illegitimate, illegal, or dangerous in the 1980s than it would become two decades later. As Daniel Ellsberg observed then (a point he would continue to press throughout his life, including after President Barack Obama ordered similar strikes on Libya in 2011), it seemed that the U.S. had “adopted a public policy of responding to state-sponsored terrorism with U.S. state-sponsored terrorism.”

In each instance, deeper involvement in the region produced deeper backlash. The U.S.-backed Afghan jihad helped give rise to Al-Qaeda in 1988 and paved the way for the Taliban’s seizure of power in 1996 and the failed 20-year American war in Afghanistan. The Iran-Iraq War of the 1980s set in motion a chain of events that culminated in the Gulf War of 1991, which laid the groundwork for the criminal 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq. The instability that followed not only expanded Iran’s regional influence but contributed to the emergence of the Islamic State. In Lebanon, the power vacuum that Hezbollah came to fill resulted in the 1983 barracks bombing in Beirut, the deadliest day for U.S. Marines since Iwo Jima.

The Lesson Not Learned

The pattern is difficult to ignore, despite our government’s persistent efforts to do so. Many of the actors Washington came to identify as its principal adversaries emerged either in direct response to U.S. policies or had themselves once been cultivated by Washington in pursuit of short-sighted strategic aims. In case after case, conflicts initiated or intensified by the United States appeared to subside, only to reemerge in new, more volatile forms. Intervention produced instability; instability served to justify further interventions; and the cycle only repeated itself thereafter.

There is little reason to believe that Donald Trump’s war against Iran will prove any different. By now, the historical record should make that clear, which is why we must oppose the violence being carried out in our name, as it is wrong, criminal, and immoral. We must oppose it for the sake of our common humanity, but also for our own sake.

After all, history tells us one thing: when we wage unjust wars that terrorize distant populations in far-off lands, the violence rarely remains confined there. Sooner or later, in one form or another, it returns. Violence begets violence, and imperial war has a way of boomeranging back upon those who initiate it. We reap what we sow; the chickens, in time, invariably come home to roost.

Eric Ross is an organizer, educator, and PhD candidate in the history department at the University of Massachusetts Amherst.

3 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

Six Months into Gaza’s Ceasefire: No Pause in Israeli Genocide or in Suffering

By Quds News Network

Gaza (QNN)- Nearly six months into the Gaza ceasefire, which took effect on October 10, the Israeli occupation continues its genocidal war on the Palestinian enclave, killing hundreds and restricting the entry of desperately-needed aid, with no pause in the attacks or the suffering.

What Are the Terms of the Ceasefire?

On September 29, the US unveiled a 20-point proposal to end Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza, release the remaining captives held in the enclave, allow the full entry of humanitarian aid into the besieged territory and outline a three-phase withdrawal of Israeli forces.

Some of the main conditions of the first phase, include:

  • An end to the attack in Gaza
  • Lifting the blockade of all aid into Gaza by Israel and stopping its interference in aid distribution
  • Release of all captives held in Gaza – alive or dead – by Hamas
  • Release of some 2,000 Palestinian hostages and disappeared people from Israeli jails
  • Withdrawal of Israeli forces to the “yellow line”
  • Open the Rafah crossing between Gaza and Egypt

On October 10, 2025, Trump’s ceasefire took effect in the Gaza Strip. 

Here is what has happened since the ceasefire took effect:

Israel violated the ceasefire agreement over 2,070 times. The average number of violations committed by Israeli forces has reached 13.1 violations per day, according to the Gaza Government Media Office.

Attacks and Killings

> Did not stop

According to reports, including by Palestinian sources, the UN and human rights groups, Israel has killed hundreds of Palestinians in the enclave.

The Gaza Government Media Office said Israel shot at civilians 840 times, raided residential areas beyond the “yellow line” 95 times, bombed and shelled Gaza 1051 times, and demolished people’s properties on 271 occasions. 

It added that Israel had also abducted about 50 Palestinians from Gaza.

The Palestinian Health Ministry said Thursday that 713 Palestinians have been killed and 1,943 others wounded in Israeli attacks on Gaza. Among the victims were 309 children, women and elders, representing 43.3%.  The number of wounded among children, women, and the elderly reached 1044, representing 53.7%.

Humanitarian Aid

> Israel still blocks and restricts aid 

Israel has also restricted the entry of essential humanitarian aid to the enclave despite the ceasefire stipulating that “full aid will be immediately sent into the Gaza Strip”. 

From October 10 to April 1, only 40,572 trucks have entered Gaza. That is only 39.3 percent of the trucks allocated, the Gaza Media Office said, with an average of 235.8 trucks entering daily.

In addition, Israel has blocked essential and nutritious food items, including meat, dairy, and vegetables, crucial for a balanced diet. Instead, non-nutritious foodstuffs are being allowed, such as snacks, chocolate, crisps, and soft drinks.

600 trucks are supposed to enter the enclave daily, including 50 fuel trucks.

The Office noted that Israel continues to provide misleading figures to the mediators and refuse to submit to independent international monitoring.

It added that field data confirm that what has actually entered does not exceed 40% of the total number of trucks agreed upon. 

The most serious violation concerns the entry of fuel, as the quantity allowed to enter did not exceed 15%, underscoring a deliberate obstruction of recovery efforts and the continuation of basic services in the Gaza Strip.

The Office also noted that Israel continues to block the entry of tents, mobile homes, caravans, and other essential shelter materials, “in clear violation of existing agreements and international humanitarian law.”

On February 28, the first day of the Israeli-US assault on Iran, Israel closed all the Gaza border crossings, citing an emergency situation, worsening an already severe humanitarian crisis. The closures included the Rafah And Karem Abu Salem crossings. 

Israel claimed in its statement on the closures of the Gaza crossings that enough food had been delivered to Gaza since the beginning of the ceasefire to provide four times the need of the population, without providing evidence. 

Ismail Ibrahim al-Thawabta, director general of the Gaza Government Media Office, said the Gaza Strip “faces indicators of a worsening humanitarian crisis if restrictions on aid continue. Responsibility for preventing this crisis lies with the occupying power, which is limiting humanitarian supplies in clear violation of international humanitarian law and its obligations towards the civilian population.”

According to truck drivers, aid deliveries are facing significant delays, with Israeli inspections taking much longer than expected.

Also, the Israeli occupation government said it banned 37 aid groups from war-torn Gaza, the occupied West Bank and occupied East Jerusalem; the decision took effect on March 1, a move described as having potentially devastating consequences for Palestinians.

The vast majority of Gaza’s more than 2 million residents rely on aid groups for food, water, healthcare, shelter and other essentials.

Only on March 3, Israeli occupation authorities said that they would reopen the Karem Abu Salem crossing to allow for the “gradual entry of humanitarian aid” into the territory. That crossing sits at the intersection of the Gaza Strip boundary with the Israeli and Egyptian borders.

Rafah Crossing

> Opened partially for limited passage

On February 2, Israel reopened the Rafah Crossing between Gaza and Egypt partially for limited traffic under heavy restrictions and monitoring.

Health authorities said at least 1,268 people have died in Gaza while waiting for medical transfer after the crossing was closed by Israel.

The Palestinian Ministry of Health warned that there are critical medical cases in urgent need of immediate evacuation through the Rafah Crossing, as their lives are at serious risk. 

There are 20,000 patients in the territory, including 4,500 children, in urgent need of treatment.

The Ministry said around 6,000 injured people require urgent transfer to receive medical treatment. It added that the current evacuation system is extremely slow and could take years to clear the backlog of patients and wounded. 

According to the Ministry, evacuating at least 500 patients per day is necessary to alleviate their suffering.

Health authorities have warned that the number of deaths among those waiting for medical transfer will rise soon unless more Palestinians are allowed to exit immediately.

“We’re still losing lives every day. Allowing only 50 patients out of Gaza each day is not proper. This dynamic is very dire and we’re going to lose more lives,” Gaza’s Al-Shifa Hospital director said.

The reason the mass evacuations are needed is because Israel’s military “entirely destroyed” Gaza’s health system, said Muhamed Abu Salmiya.

For Palestinians in Gaza, the Rafah crossing had long been the only connection to the outside world.

Israeli forces occupied the Palestinian side of the crossing in May 2024, destroying its buildings, preventing travel and causing a severe humanitarian crisis, especially for patients. They deployed soldiers in a military buffer zone all across the Philadelphi Corridor, where they remain today.

The first phase of Trump’s Gaza ceasefire 20-point plan had called for Israel to let humanitarian aid into the territory and open “the Rafah crossing in both directions”. 

However, Israel had continued to close it. 

There have been reports that Israel plans to restrict the number of Palestinians entering the Gaza Strip through the Rafah border crossing, ensuring that more people are allowed out than in. Israeli officials have repeatedly called for the forcible displacement of Palestinians from Gaza, the occupation of the enclave, and the construction of illegal settlements. 

As of April 1, the Office said the actual number of travelers moving through the Rafah Crossing in both directions reached 2449 passengers, out of a total of 9,400 individuals who were scheduled to travel, reflecting a compliance rate of 26%.

However, Israel, as mentioned above, closed it again when it launched the assault on Iran, without providing any justification. Following 20-day closure, Israel reopened it also for limited passage.

About two weeks ago, it was confirmed that Israeli forces abducted a Palestinian man who was among the returnees coming back to Gaza after a three-year absence, prior to the genocide. A Palestinian security source warned that Israel could turn the crossing into a point for arresting Palestinians traveling to and from Gaza.

Israeli Withdrawal

> Did not fully withdraw and has expanded occupation of more areas

What is the “yellow line”?

On October 10, 2025, the Israeli forces completed the first phase of withdrawal under the ceasefire deal to the “Yellow Line,” a non-physical demarcation line separating the Israeli occupation forces from certain areas of Gaza, while occupying more than 53 percent of the Strip.

The “Yellow Line” refers to Israeli-designated military zones and buffer areas inside the Gaza Strip.

Israeli Defence Minister Israel Katz said anyone remaining beyond the yellow line would be targeted without warning.

According to an Israeli map presented under Trump’s 20-point Gaza ceasefire plan, the yellow line extends from south of northern Gaza down to the outskirts of Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip.

Israeli forces remain deployed in the Shejaiya neighborhood, parts of the Tuffah and Zeitoun in Gaza City, as well as in Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahiya in the north, Rafah in the south, and along the Gaza coast.

So, the line divides Gaza into two zones: an eastern area under Israeli military control and a western area where Palestinians live, were forcibly displaced to, and are under constant Israeli threat of attacks.

The Israeli forces directly open fire on any Palestinians crossing this “Yellow Line” or even approaching, without prior warning. 

Palestinians returning to their destroyed homes amid the ceasefire have been attacked by the Israeli forces near the line.

The Israeli military said it placed yellow concrete blocks to mark the imaginary boundary, a line, for Palestinians, that separates between life and death. 

According to the Israeli military Spokesperson, “The marking is being carried out on concrete barriers topped with a yellow-painted post standing 3.5 meters (11.5 feet) above the ground,” adding that concrete barriers are “being placed every 200 meters.”

Israeli military maps indicate the line extends 1.5km and 6.5km (0.9 to 4 miles) inside Gaza from its eastern boundary with Israel and covers roughly 58 percent of the enclave.

During a visit to the Gaza Strip in December, the Israeli military’s chief of staff, Eyal Zamir, said unequivocally that the “Yellow Line” is “a new border line”.

This imaginary line decides which streets and areas are safe and when it’s time to run. According to UN agencies, humanitarian organizations operating in Gaza and satellite images, Israeli forces have been extending the “Yellow Line” into the areas under Palestinian control.

Israel has no plans to withdraw from the “Yellow Line” in the eastern Gaza Strip. This was announced on the “This Morning” program with Ilael Shahar, on Channel 2’s News.

The Israeli Public Broadcasting Corporation, known as Kan, also reported that Israeli officials consider the so-called “Yellow Line” as a strategic area that will remain under Israeli control.

According to the UN, more than 200 Palestinians have been killed in its vicinity, including women and children.

The OHCHR identified an ongoing “pattern of attacks targeting Palestinians apparently only due to their proximity to Israeli forces’ deployment lines in Gaza,” calling this a war crime.

According to a recent Haaretz report, the Israeli military is turning the so-called “yellow line” into a physical border, with forces in recent months having established new outposts along the line and built a ground barrier. 

Haaretz reported, citing recent satellite images, that the forces have established new outposts along the line, carrying out infrastructure work and transferring equipment and facilities. At the same time, they are implementing a large-scale engineering project: constructing a ground barrier stretching for many kilometers along the line. The line leaves more than half of the Strip in Israel’s hands.

The report added that there is currently no detailed mechanism regulating a withdrawal from it.

Since the ceasefire was announced, the forces have built seven new outposts along the line, as seen in satellite imagery. In five outposts in Gaza, the ground has been covered with asphalt, enabling prolonged operational activity.

Analysis of satellite imagery shows that the forces have established positions across the northern, eastern and southern Strip. It currently holds at least 32 outposts, most of them built before the ceasefire. Some are located near the yellow line, while others are deeper toward Israeli-occupied territory. Many are equipped with electricity and lighting infrastructure, communications masts, excavators and other equipment.

The forces have established outposts at strategic points across Gaza, including on Tel al-Muntar, in Jabalia, and in Beit Hanoun, with some built around surviving multi-story buildings such as a Qatari-funded hospital in Rafah.

Many of these outposts are set amid the ruins of agricultural and residential areas, including sites where mosques once stood and a cemetery destroyed during the war. Clearing operations are also underway in Shujaiyeh, where another cemetery previously existed.

What about Palestinian violations of the ceasefire?

> All captives returned

Under the ceasefire deal, Hamas released all the living Israeli captives in exchange for nearly 2,000 Palestinian detainees. Hamas has also returned the 28 bodies of deceased captives. 

According to Hamas and mediators, Palestinian factions in Gaza have not committed any violations of the ceasefire agreement and instead blame Israel for failing to uphold its terms.

Phase Two

100 days after the ceasefire, the US announced the transition to the second phase of the plan which is supposed to shift the focus to long-term governance and the establishment of a panel of Palestinian technocrats to lead post-war Gaza. The US announced the establishment of the so-called “Board of Peace”, with members like Jarad Kushner and Tony Blair appointed as part of its Gaza executive board. Trump also invited countries to join his ‘board of peace. In February, ICC-wanted Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu joined the board.

A UN Security Council resolution, adopted in mid-November, authorized the board and countries working with it to establish an international stabilization force in Gaza, 

Many rights experts say that Trump overseeing a board to supervise a foreign territory’s affairs resembled a colonial structure. 

Also, a Palestinian committee tasked with overseeing the future administration of Gaza as part of the plan was also established. The general commissioner of the National Committee for Gaza Management (NGAC), Ali Shaath, said that the technocratic body would seek to restore core services and cultivate a society “rooted in peace”.

The NGAC faces enormous challenges. Gaza has been physically destroyed after more than two years of Israel’s genocidal war, and there has been widespread scepticism from Palestinians over how much autonomy the body will have.

Those concerns have been compounded by the presence of firm supporters of Israel, and a lack of Palestinians, so far, on the board of peace and the Gaza executive board.

It was confirmed that Israel prevented the entry of the 12-member committee into Gaza. The committee is still based in Egypt and has not yet entered Gaza to begin its work.

Most of the goals in Trump’s so-called 20-point plan never became a reality on the ground. Despite continuing attacks, the US insists that the ceasefire is still holding.

3 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org

From Palestine to Iran and the Axis of Resistance: Islamic Liberation Theology and the Struggle for Freedom from Imperialism and Colonialism

By Feroze Mithiborwala

From the rubble of occupied cities to trans-national battlefields, the Islamic liberation movements of the Middle East articulate a profound critique of global power, colonialism, and domination. From Iran to liberation organisations such as Hamas in Palestine, Hezbollah in Lebanon, Hashd al-Shaabi in Iraq, and Ansarullah (Houthis) in Yemen do not simply emerge as militant actors in isolated conflicts; they derive ideological coherence from a blend of historical resistance and theological imperatives rooted in what can be termed Islamic Liberation Theology (ILT). This theology situates the struggle against oppression as not merely political but sacred—a duty (wajib) incumbent upon believers in the face of occupation and injustice.[1]

The Metaphysics of Defiance: Understanding ILT

At its core, Islamic liberation theology evolves from the understanding that the ummah (the global Muslim community) must resist systemic injustice wherever it appears. Unlike Eurocentric Christian liberation theology—which emerged from Christian critiques of Latin American imperialism—ILT intersects with anti-colonial Islamic political thought, emphasizing resistance against Western hegemony and Zionist settler colonialism. It frames resistance as both spiritual and temporal, rejecting the passive acceptance of subjugation.[2]

In contemporary dialectical terms, this places groups like Hamas and Hezbollah not just in a geopolitical contest but within a wider struggle for existential dignity against what they rightly describe as imperialist forces. This framework is not without precedent. Christian Liberation Theology (CLT), which emerged in Latin America in the 1960s, is widely accepted within mainstream theology as a legitimate moral response to oppression, colonialism, and structural violence. Rooted in the “preferential option for the poor,” it holds that faith is meaningless unless it confronts injustice and aligns itself with the oppressed—even through political struggle.[3]

If Christian liberation theology is recognized as an ethical and theological response to empire, then Islamic Liberation Theology, grounded in Quranic condemnations of zulm (oppression) and the divine obligation to stand with the mustad‘afin (the downtrodden), must be afforded the same legitimacy.[4] To accept one as a noble pursuit of human rights while demonizing the other as mere extremism is not a theological distinction; it is an ideological manoeuvre in service of established power. Both traditions argue that the divine is not neutral in the face of suffering, and both reposition the place of worship as the front line of social emancipation.

Profiles in Resistance: The Case Studies

Hamas: The Islamic Resistance Movement

Founded in 1988 during the First Intifada, Hamas is best understood as a movement rooted in the Palestinian branch of the Muslim Brotherhood.[5] Its founding charter framed jihad as a religious obligation and resistance as central to liberation, declaring “Jihad is its path,” and framing Palestine as waqf (Islamic endowment) land that must be defended and liberated from occupation.[6]

Hamas’s ideology remains anchored in Islamic liberation rhetoric: liberation through resistance, not surrender. Analysts like Max Blumenthal (Editor, Grayzone) interpret Hamas’s actions within a framework of resistance against an overwhelmingly powerful adversary. Blumenthal positions Gaza’s armed factions as embodying a grassroots struggle against occupation, shaped by decades of siege and structural marginalization. He argues that the militant tactics of Hamas evolved as a deliberate challenge to the asymmetry of power between the Palestinian people and the Israeli state, thereby rendering armed resistance as a central element of Palestinian liberation.[7]

Hezbollah: The Theology of Muqawama – Resistance

Hezbollah—a Shiʿa Islamist movement born out of the Israeli invasion of Lebanon in 1982—represents a form of resistance that has transcended mere military engagement to become a socio-political and theological paradigm. For Hezbollah, resistance (muqawama) is both cultural and political: it defines collective identity in opposition to colonial domination.[8]

The group’s articulation of resistance draws on blends of Shiʿi historical memory, martyrdom, and opposition to Western and Israeli influence. George Galloway, a long-time advocate for Arab causes, encapsulates this by praising Hezbollah as “the legitimate national resistance movement of Lebanon.”[9] For Galloway, resistance against occupation—whether in Lebanon or Palestine—is inherently justifiable, grounded in the rights of peoples to resist subjugation.

Hashd al-Shaabi and Ansarullah: Regional Diffusion

The diffusion of liberation frameworks is evident in the Hashd al-Shaabi (“Popular Mobilization Forces”) of Iraq and Ansarullah (Houthis) of Yemen.

  • Hashd al-Shaabi: Originating in 2014 to combat the Islamic State, the ISIS, its emergence illustrates a self-defence mobilization against existential threat, intertwined with broader geopolitical alignments within the “Axis of Resistance.”[1]
  • Ansarullah: In Yemen, the Houthis frame their struggle against foreign intervention as spiritually mandated. In the context of the ongoing Israeli genocide of Gaza, the Houthis launched attacks against Israeli-linked shipping, framing these as expressions of solidarity and a moral duty to confront systemic injustice.[10] Their actions underline how ILT narratives permeate even movements with distinct local grievances.

Iran: The Institutional Engine of Islamic Liberation

The Islamic Republic of Iran serves as the primary state-level architect and institutional engine of contemporary Islamic liberation theology. Following the 1979 Revolution, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini fundamentally reinterpreted Shiʿi eschatology, transforming the concept of “waiting” for the Imam into an active, revolutionary pursuit of justice against Istikbar (arrogance/imperialism). This “Theology of the Oppressed” moved from the margins to the centre of statecraft, providing the ideological glue for the Axis of Resistance.[11]

Under this framework, Tehran views its support for groups like Hezbollah and Hamas not as mere proxy warfare, but as a religious and moral imperative to safeguard the ummah from colonial occupation. By exporting this revolutionary ethos, Iran has created a trans-national identity that bridges the Sunni-Shiʿa divide through the shared language of anti-imperialism. This state-backed ILT emphasizes that true sovereignty is impossible under the shadow of foreign hegemony, thereby framing Iran’s strategic depth in the Levant and Yemen as a defensive shield for the region’s disenfranchised. Consequently, Iran’s role is seen by proponents as a “Vatican of the Oppressed,” providing the material and ideological sanctuary necessary for liberation movements to endure asymmetrical warfare against global powers.[12]

Expert Perspectives on Resistance and Strategy

The discourse surrounding these movements is shaped by a variety of strategic and ethical interpretations:

  • Muhammad Marandi: Situates these movements within the struggle against U.S. and Israeli policies, underscoring that Tehran’s support for allies is not merely opportunistic but part of a broader resistance infrastructure—one that views collective action against perceived hegemony as mandatory.[1]
  • Ken O’Keefe: A former U.S. Marine and activist, O’Keefe articulates the universal right to self-defence, arguing that resistance against occupation and foreign domination is instinctive and justifiable—a perspective that aligns with liberation theology’s emphasis on resisting oppression in all its forms.[13]
  • Jeffrey Sachs: While diverging from martial valorisation, Sachs stresses that lasting freedom requires political solutions grounded in international law, including statehood and diplomatic recognition. He argues that sustainable liberation is inseparable from peace frameworks like the two-state solution.[14]

To this, I must add that the Judeo-Nazi Israeli regime is clearly committed to the expansionist so-called Greater Israel Project. Thus, as Gaza undergoes a Genocide, the West Bank is exposed to fanatical Jewish Settler violence on a daily basis and the Two-State Solution is all but dead.

Conclusion: Theology, Resistance, and Freedom

Islamic liberation theology provides a crucial interpretive lens for understanding why movements like Hamas, Hezbollah, Hashd al-Shaabi, and Ansarullah adopt resistance as a central tenet of their identity. While their methods and specific ideologies vary, they share a narrative of resistance against oppression and occupation — framed as ethical, spiritual, and political imperatives.

In the complex geopolitical tapestry of the Middle East, theological discourses, strategic interests, and historical grievances intertwine. Whether through the lens of Quranic zulm or the Latin American “preferential option for the poor,” the message remains consistent: where there is occupation, there will be resistance; and where there is resistance, there is a theology of liberation seeking to define the path toward freedom.

References

[1] Marandi, Mohammad. “The Axis of Resistance and the New Middle East.” Journal of Islamic Studies (2024).

[2] Dabashi, Hamid. Islamic Liberation Theology: Resisting the Empire. London: Routledge, 2008.

[3] Gutiérrez, Gustavo. A Theology of Liberation: History, Politics, and Salvation. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1971.

[4] Esack, Farid. Quran, Liberation and Pluralism. Oxford: Oneworld Publications, 1997.

[5] Milton-Edwards, Beverley, and Stephen Farrell. Hamas: The Islamic Resistance Movement. Cambridge: Polity, 2010.

[6] The Covenant of the Islamic Resistance Movement (Hamas), 1988.

[7] Blumenthal, Max. The 51 Day War: Ruin and Resistance in Gaza. New York: Nation Books, 2015.

[8] Levitt, Matthew. Hezbollah: The Global Footprint of Lebanon’s Party of God. Georgetown University Press, 2013.

[9] Galloway, George. Speech to the Lebanese National Resistance Conference, Beirut, 2006.

[10] Ansarullah Bureau. “Statement on Maritime Operations in Support of Gaza,” December 2023.

[11] Khomeini, Ruhollah. Islam and Revolution: Writings and Declarations of Imam Khomeini. Translated by Hamid Algar. Berkeley: Mizan Press, 1981.

[12] Abrahamian, Ervand. Khomeinism: Essays on the Islamic Republic. University of California Press, 1993.

[13] O’Keefe, Ken. “Resistance, International Law, and the Right to Self-Defense.” Socialist Review (2010).

[14] Sachs, Jeffrey. “The Path to Peace in Palestine.” Project Syndicate, 2024.

Feroze Mithiborwala is an expert on West Asian & International Geostrategic issues and committed to the international struggle against Imperialism and Zionism.

3 April 2026

Source: countercurrents.org