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Have We Become Stupider?

Or Are We Experiencing a Transformation in the Structure of Knowledge?
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By Mona Fayad
Published Sep 5, 2026 - 20:01
The question “Has the world become stupider?” frequently returns in contemporary debates about digital media, search engines, and social networks. On the surface, it seems simple. Yet behind it lies a deeper issue concerning the very nature of knowledge: how it is produced, how it is transmitted, and how it is consumed. Perhaps “Have we become stupider?” is not the most accurate question. A better one might be: Is knowledge still being transmitted in a way that allows it to be understood and made productive? Do most readers still go back to the original texts? Or do they turn instead to summaries and to what is said about those texts through material circulating among readers? One key to understanding this phenomenon lies in the work of British psychologist Frederic Bartlett, who conducted a series of experiments in the 1930s on what he called “serial reproduction.” In these experiments, one person would be asked to hear a story and then retell it to someone else, who would in turn retell it to a third person, and so on. The results were striking: with each new transmission, the story was not conveyed as it had originally been told, but was reformulated. Some details were omitted, others were exaggerated, and still others were replaced by elements that better suited the recipient’s background, experience, and culture. By the time the chain had passed through enough people, the original story had become something entirely different. This simple model reveals a fundamental truth: memory is not a neutral container, but a mechanism of reconstruction. When knowledge passes through multiple intermediaries, it is not “preserved” but “reproduced.” Here we begin to see the resemblance to our contemporary world, and with it the fear that we may be becoming stupider. In the age of digital media, knowledge no longer travels through oral transmission, but through chains of mediation: an article is summarized, then quoted, then reposted as a short post, before being further reduced to a sentence or a headline. In this context, we might borrow a metaphor that appeared in a journalistic text: a library whose books are gradually replaced by summaries, then by summaries of summaries, until the reader is left facing layer upon layer of reduction. We might call this the “raccoon chain”: the raccoon does not read the original, but rummages through what remains of it. It is worth clarifying that the choice of the “raccoon” is not arbitrary. The metaphor symbolically condenses a cognitive condition that is becoming increasingly entrenched. This animal, which lives on the fringes of cities and rummages through garbage bins, does not produce its own food but feeds on the leftovers of what others have produced. Despite its practical intelligence and its ability to pry things apart, pick through them, and seize what is useful, it does not understand what lies before it. It treats things simply as material available for immediate use. This is what knowledge begins to look like in an age of serial reduction: texts are shortened, then shortened again, until all that remains are scraps of meaning, rearranged and circulated without any genuine connection to their source. At that point, we have not merely moved away from the original. We have entered a new phase in the production of information or knowledge, in which the cognitive actor is no longer a reader or a thinker, but a collector of fragments of meaning who redistributes them in forms designed for rapid consumption. “Raccoon culture,” then, is not merely a description of superficiality. It is an accurate description of the degradation of the knowledge chain itself: from creation to summary, from understanding to formal processing, from ideas to something resembling only their faded trace. Yet this phenomenon cannot be understood apart from the technological structure that governs it. Here Marshall McLuhan becomes relevant, with his famous formulation: “The medium is the message.” The problem lies not only in content, but also in the form through which that content is transmitted. Contemporary digital media do not simply convey information. They reshape it according to the logic of speed, condensation, and fragmentation. Long texts become unsuitable for consumption, while an idea becomes acceptable only if it can be compressed into a few shareable lines. This transformation produces a striking paradox: we live in a time when access to knowledge is no longer difficult. It is excessively easy. And with that excessive ease comes what might be called a “cognitive illusion”: reading a brief passage or a quick summary can be enough to make a person feel that they have grasped an idea. Yet this feeling of possession is not necessarily accompanied by deep understanding, or by the ability to reconstruct or critique that knowledge. This is where we encounter what might be called the “semi-educated”: people who possess the signs of knowledge but not its structure, its vocabulary but not its internal logic. The problem becomes even more complex when viewed through the lens of attention. Instead of remaining in a state of sustained concentration, as in traditional reading or prolonged reflection, the mind now exists under continuous informational bombardment: notifications, clips, headlines, and successive waves of content. This does not merely fragment attention. It reshapes it according to a logic of constant jumping between short units of meaning, rather than the gradual and cumulative construction of an idea. I am reminded here of a joke that we used to tell and that was widely circulated during the days of popular demonstrations. It vividly illustrates the process of reduction and reshaping of content. After the occupation of Palestine, many popular demonstrations took to the streets chanting, “Down with the Balfour Declaration!” The joke was that by the end of the demonstration, the slogan had become, in Arabic, “Let one fall from above,” a completely different phrase that retained something of the original slogan’s rhythm and sound. This image may help bring us closer to what happens in everyday language when knowledge is transformed into short messages that are collectively repeated. A demonstration begins with a precise political slogan. Through repetition, collective immersion, and sonic rhythm, it gradually turns into a completely different formula. The new version may preserve the rhythm and emotional charge of the original, while losing its meaning and original significance. What remains is no longer the meaning, but the emotional energy of the phrase. Here, in another form, we encounter what Bartlett observed: what matters is not merely what was said, but how it was retold and how it was reinterpreted within a changing social context. If we bring these strands together, we might say that what we are experiencing today is not so much a “collapse of intelligence” as a transformation in the conditions under which intelligence operates. The human mind has not changed radically, but the environment in which it functions has changed profoundly: from an environment that allowed slow accumulation to one that imposes the rapid and fragmented reproduction of knowledge. This transformation creates a permanent tension between two kinds of thinking: reflective thought, which requires time, and rapid thought, which demands an immediate response. Seen in this light, the question “Have we become stupider?” is partly misleading. It may be more accurate to say that we are increasingly exposed to conditions that make deep thinking less stable, or less possible, and knowledge more vulnerable to fragmentation and recycling. As for stupidity, if the term can be used, it may not be a quality of the mind at all, but rather a side effect and a characteristic of the cultural structure that has emerged. It is a technology that reshapes our relationship with the world. Thus, rather than seeing this as a decline in human capacities, we might understand it as a transformation in the “knowledge environment”: an environment in which it has become easy to know something, but harder to truly understand it in depth.
Opinion
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By Youssef Mouawad - Published Sep 5, 2026 - 13:25
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In 2010, Israel violently intercepted the Mavi Marmara, a Turkish ship chartered by a humanitarian NGO to bring aid to the Gaza Strip, which was under Israeli blockade at the time. This was the last straw, and the incident brought the simmering hostility between Erdogan's government and the Jewish state out into the open. (AFP)
The war has not yet ceased in our south, and already it threatens to break out among our neighbors. In other words, we live on borrowed time, lurching from one conflict to the next. And for good reason! The bombing of a Syrian base very nearly escalated into an all-out clash between Ankara and Tel Aviv. That was on August 18, and Benjamin Netanyahu didn't mince his words: his country would not tolerate a Turkish military foothold that could spread into southern Syria. The warning was all the more forceful given that eight strikes had targeted the Abu al-Dhuhur air base, just 70 kilometers from the Turkish border. It's worth recalling, too, that since the fall of Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, Erdogan has become the chief mentor of the new Syria under Ahmed al-Sharaa, helping rebuild its armed forces and turning it into a strategic partner. This is no longer Hafez al-Assad's Syria Was it this renewed tension between Ankara and Tel Aviv that prompted a meeting between Syria's top diplomat, Assaad Chaibani, and Mossad chief Roman Gofman, in Jordan on August 23? Yet this quiet parley did not spark outrage across the Arab world the way Anwar al-Sadat's surprise visit to Israel did in 1977. A taboo was officially broken—and indeed, who would have imagined such talks taking place under the Baathist regime? Israel might have been expected to welcome this, but contrary to expectations, it halted neither its airstrikes nor its territorial incursions, as seen on August 27 in Quneitra. The fact is, things have changed. Under Hafez al-Assad, Syria was a regional power that, while not exactly formidable, was feared by its immediate neighbors, Arab or otherwise. No one wanted to pick a fight with it, which allowed it to pursue, within certain limits, an assertive foreign policy that often bordered on provocation. As a result, thanks to the autonomy it exercised and the room to maneuver it granted itself, Syria had become, at least geographically, a buffer zone between an "Erdoganist" Turkey flaunting its unabashed brand of Islam on one side, and Israel, a state Jewish to its core, on the other. But now, in a country worn down by Baathist mismanagement and ravaged by years of civil war, Turkey has begun staking its claims—and will inevitably find itself face to face with an Israel that occupies part of Syrian territory. What can we expect? Given the outsized egos of both Netanyahu and Erdogan, and assuming both leaders remain in power, we should brace for an epic showdown across Syrian, Lebanese, Jordanian, or even other territories. This will be a fight of feints and dodges, of underhanded tactics as well as head-on attacks, close combat, and rising tensions right up to the breaking point. And this despite a September 2025 report from the Congressional Research Service concluding that direct confrontation between Turkey and Israel remains unlikely, precisely because both states are well aware of the cost such a war would entail. Still, in the realm of conflict studies, leaders and other elites don't always act rationally! All the more so since, in the eyes of Israeli observers, the slogan now popular in Anatolia—"Make Turkey great again"—hardly reassures the Zionist state. Washington will find it increasingly difficult to contain or keep apart two adversaries already gearing up for battle. Turkey, the new Iran? Yes, that's one hypothesis, but only in a face-off with Israel, since Syria has overnight become a zone where 'two security perimeters overlap' — the Turkish and the Israeli, the Muslim and the Jewish. And it can't be ruled out that Shiite militancy, that mobilizer of "proxies," might end up allying itself, even if only temporarily, with a 'Muslim Brotherhood version' of political Islam championed by Ankara! So we would have, against all odds, a Hezbollah backed by its former enemy, Ahmad al-Sharaa, an Islamist who emerged from Jabhat al-Nusra and Hayat Tahrir al-Sham! Against a common adversary, a reversal of alliances is always legitimate and opportune. But this would only be a tactical alliance, dictated by the exigencies of the moment, one that couldn't presume anything about the future. With Arab nationalism now out of the picture, Turkey won't settle for economically capturing the Syrian market of 25 million consumers: it will want to wield political influence in Damascus, and to that end will deploy its military and security apparatus. Since the shaky power of the Syrian president can't fulfill certain sovereign functions or oversee the various branches of the state, it will inevitably turn to the expertise of its northern neighbor. Does this mean Turkey will get sucked into the spiral of 'announced belligerence'? Everything points that way, and we can already see the early signs of a spiral reminiscent of the US involvement in Vietnam under Lyndon Johnson. Indeed, if the Syrian state intends to rebuild itself, it will first need an army capable of quelling the centrifugal tendencies of the Alawites, the Druze, and other factions calling for the country's breakup. And it's up to Ankara to provide that and to bolster the central authority based in Damascus. But Israel, which has gotten into bad habits in Syria and intends to keep its freedom of aerial action there, cannot tolerate an army built along NATO lines that could serve as a proxy for a neo-Ottoman venture. And Lebanon, from primary stage to secondary stage? A new stage is now set for a new script that will define new rules of the game! What will become of Hezbollah, caught in a trap? Well, in that scenario, it could benefit, even if only partly, from Damascus's logistical support — support it has sorely lacked since the fall of Bashar al-Assad. And perhaps, through a shift in the tectonic plates, Lebanon would move from being the initial stage to being merely a secondary stage of a regional conflict. But frankly, that would do us a lot of good!
Today's Essential
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By LevantTime . - Published Sep 5, 2026 - 00:55
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The ICRC convoy carrying the released civilians left the area occupied by Israel in southern Lebanon and traveled to the point marking the start of the zone controlled by the Lebanese authorities. (AFP)
The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) announced on Friday that it had transferred four more people released by Israel to Lebanon, a day after the release of a first civilian. They are three Lebanese nationals and two Syrians, according to the ICRC. This is the first time such an operation has taken place since negotiations between Lebanon and Israel began in April under US auspices. During the last round of talks in August, Beirut had requested the release of a first group of its nationals captured by Israel in southern Lebanon, where Israel is at war with the pro-Iranian Hezbollah. Their relatives estimate their number at around thirty, including fighters from the Islamist movement. In a statement, Lebanese President Joseph Aoun thanked the United States and the ICRC, saying the release "confirmed the soundness of the position" taken by Lebanon, which is engaged in negotiations with Israel that Hezbollah rejects. On Thursday, the United States praised "the government of Israel and the government of Lebanon for demonstrating good faith through these initial steps," expressing hope that this would "serve as a foundation for broader discussions on other civilian matters." The two countries are set to hold another round of negotiations in September, though the date has not yet been set. According to the Israeli prime minister's office, Thursday's announcement "follows efforts by Israel and Lebanon to locate and repatriate the remains of Jewish community leaders who were kidnapped and killed in Lebanon" between 1984 and 1986. Israeli strikes intensify On the ground, Israeli strikes killed three people and wounded 23 others on Friday in southern and eastern Lebanon. Israel stepped up its strikes in the region on Friday, after announcing Thursday evening that it had taken control of the Ali Taher mountain ridge, which had served as a strategic position for the pro-Iranian Hezbollah and overlooks Nabatiyeh, among other areas. The army will now reinforce its positions there in order to "prevent the enemy from retaking the area," said Israeli Defense Minister Israel Katz. A strike also hit the Tyre region, particularly the village of Rmadiyé, according to the National News Agency (NNA). For Trump, the war in Iran is "small potatoes" Regarding the war in Iran, US President Donald Trump sought on Friday to downplay its impact on the United States ahead of the crucial midterm elections. "A lot of people aren't calling it a war. I call it a military conflict, because it's small potatoes for us. It's not a big deal. We did Venezuela, and we did that," he told reporters in the Oval Office when asked about his vice president, JD Vance, who had said the day before that he didn't want to call the conflict a war. With fuel prices surging because of the war and threatening to cost Donald Trump's Republicans their majority in Congress in November's midterm elections, his administration is working to downplay the scale of the conflict. According to the president, the United States is carrying out "targeted strikes," insisting that it is "not currently engaged in fighting." He also claimed that the United States controlled the Strait of Hormuz and had wiped out Iran's armed forces. "What we've accomplished is remarkable. We took control of Venezuela, and we've essentially taken control of Iran," he said.
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The big stick and the deterrent effect !
By
Youssef Mouawad
Published

What if Iran were to yield in the face of the massive deployment of American force? What if it chose not to take up the challenge posed by the U.S. fleet now anchoring in what it considers its own waters, those of the Persian Gulf? It would lose face—after having so recently strutted and solemnly proclaimed that it controlled four Arab capitals! Let us not be mistaken: Tehran is now faced with a choice between war and compromise—that is, a retreat that would bring back into fashion the much-criticized gunboat diplomacy, so often denounced in academic circles. This so-called diplomacy, which predates the First World War, consisted of firing from the sea at the coasts of a country deemed to have something to answer for, usually unpaid financial debts. To make an adversary see reason, is it not preferable to resort to bluff or warning shots—that is, a threat not followed by execution—rather than to a military engagement that would be measured in casualties and large-scale destruction? This is precisely the dilemma confronting the ayatollahs today: to make amends, submit, attempt to save face—or otherwise be wiped off the map. Historical precedents The Americans did not invent the use of the “big stick.” In 1793, during the second partition of Poland, Catherine II of Russia surrounded the seat of the Polish Diet. With her cannons trained on the assembly, she imposed her will by force. “The vote was extorted in a silence of terror, as the occupation made any opposition impossible,” we are told. This coercive practice likely did not escape the proponents of the Monroe Doctrine in the United States, and President Theodore Roosevelt could declare, on two occasions in 1904 and 1905, that—even reluctantly—in clear cases of injustice or impotence, the United States had the right to exercise an “international police power.” The New Jersey and the Weinberger Doctrine To be sure, Donald Trump is not about to commit troops to support Iranian demonstrators demanding bread and freedom. That is the least of his concerns. In reality, his objectives are limited to settling the issues of nuclear weapons, missiles, and Iran’s support for proxies such as Hezbollah and the Houthis—and, behind the scenes, to controlling China’s hydrocarbon supply. Nevertheless, we will not witness this time, as in 1984 off the coast of Beirut, a repeat of the pitiful retreat of the New Jersey . In this case, the Weinberger Doctrine applies—and it is unequivocal: if American troops are to be deployed only as a last resort, then “they must be deployed without reservation and with the clear intention of winning—or not deployed at all.” Moreover, it is understood that the Iranian regime, despite its capacity for disruption, is in no position to withstand an assault by combined American-Israeli forces. It will have to yield, unless it is suicidal. At the end of the ordeal, if it concedes on the nuclear issue or any other point, it will lose its swagger—and might even have to eat humble pie to remain in power. This is where the whimsical Donald Trump can step in and settle for a purely symbolic success—that is, a cheap triumph he can loudly proclaim at will. Hence the concern expressed by Saudi Defense, Minister Khalid bin Salman, who fears that the ayatollahs’ regime might actually emerge strengthened if the United States refrains from going on the offensive. For there is no reason to declare victory if there is no regime change in Tehran. What is the point in taking the same people only to start all over again? In short, without military intervention, Iran will once again have won the round.

Iran and its Proxy War in Sudan (3/4)
By
Michel Hajji Georgiou
Published

Analytical focus on the war in Sudan which, since 2023, has already resulted in tens of thousands of deaths and millions of displaced persons, with a particularly devastating human cost in Darfur, where mass violence, sieges and forced displacement have taken on a dimension that many international actors now describe as genocidal. It seems necessary to analyze Iran's role in the Sudanese conflict alone, even though the latter does not present itself in the classic form of an identified sponsor, an overt political support or an assumed alliance. It is more diffuse, more indirect, but, in many respects, more structuring. Tehran is not a central actor in the Sudanese theater; it is a kind of strategic amplifier, inscribing the conflict in a broader regional architecture, dominated by the Red Sea and new forms of asymmetric warfare. For several years, Iranian strategy has been based on a constant principle: extending strategic depth without exposing itself frontally. This logic has been tested in Lebanon with Hezbollah, in Syria through the Alawite regime, in Iraq via Shiite militias and in Yemen thanks to Houthi ambitions. It therefore relies on networks, local relays, and transfers of know-how more than on visible deployments. Sudan, long peripheral in Iranian mapping, is gradually regaining a functional place in this whole. This return is explained first by the increasing centrality of the Red Sea. Since the outbreak of the war in Gaza and the rise of the Houthis in Yemen, the Red Sea has become an area of indirect confrontation between the Iranian axis and Western powers, as well as a major point of friction with Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates. Attacks on commercial shipping, threats to energy routes, drone and missile strikes have transformed this maritime space into a direct extension of Middle East conflicts. In this context, Sudan appears as an area of depth, rather than a front. Its coastline, its ports, its grey security zones offer a useful backdrop, without requiring explicit political involvement. Iran does not need to control Sudan, nor even to have an official ally there. It is enough for the country to remain unstable, fragmented, incapable of durably securing its coasts and infrastructures. Evidence of a tactical rapprochement between Tehran and the Sudanese army has thus multiplied since 2024. Accusations of Iranian drone deliveries to the Sudanese Armed Forces, although systematically denied, are part of a logic already observed elsewhere, that of a transfer of capabilities rather than direct presence. Drones, due to their limited cost, flexibility, and psychological impact, constitute the ideal tool for this strategy. They make it possible to compensate for structural weaknesses without modifying the internal political balance. But it would be simplistic to read Iranian involvement as a mere occasional military support to the Sudanese army. Iran is not seeking to save the Sudanese state. It is not part of a stabilization logic. What interests it is the controlled disorganization of a strategic maritime space, which forces its adversaries to disperse their means and multiply theaters of attention. A strategy of subversion that is found, moreover, as a hallmark of Tehran almost everywhere in the Middle East. From this perspective, the Sudanese war thus functions as a saturation conflict. It is not an objective in itself, but an element of an enlarged conflictual landscape, where each peripheral crisis weakens the overall response capacity of Western powers and their regional allies. Sudan, like Somalia or Yemen, becomes a space where conflict is tolerable precisely because it is far from decision-making centers. This strategy finds a particular echo in the contemporary transformation of war. Drones, long-range strikes, and cross-border logistical networks make it possible to conduct conflicts of low political intensity but high human intensity. Thus, attacks against Port Sudan and targeted strikes against sensitive infrastructures demonstrate that even supposedly secured areas remain vulnerable. And this vulnerability is in itself a strategic message… For Saudi Arabia, this evolution is particularly worrying, insofar as the security of the Red Sea is a pillar of its economic, tourist, and geopolitical ambitions. Any prolonged instability on the African shore weakens this projection. Iran does not need to directly challenge Riyadh; it simply needs to contribute to an environment where stabilization becomes costly, uncertain, and politically risky. For the United Arab Emirates, the situation is more ambivalent. Their indirect approach to Sudan, based on networks and non-state actors, sometimes resonates with Iranian logic, without however being a matter of coordination. It is not an alliance, but an objective convergence of methods consisting in prioritizing flexibility, avoiding direct exposure, and accepting instability as a lasting parameter. Iran also benefits from the weakening of the international normative framework. In a system where the qualification of genocide, sanctions, and condemnations no longer lead to strategic rupture, room for maneuver expands. The Sudanese war then becomes an additional example of this normalization of extreme violence on the periphery, which objectively benefits actors seeking to delegitimize the liberal international order. Finally, one essential point must be emphasized: Iran has no interest in a rapid victory for either Sudanese side. A clear victory for the army, supported by Riyadh and Cairo, would strengthen a hostile axis. Total domination by the RSF, backed by Emirati networks, would produce another form of regional consolidation. Iranian interest lies in the in-between, in the prolongation of a conflict that prevents any stable recomposition. Playing on the contradictions of others ensures, by default, a victory for Tehran. Thus, the Iranian role in the Sudanese war is measured neither in square kilometers conquered, nor in official declarations. It is read in the duration of the conflict, in its ability to be part of a regional continuum of crises, in the way it contributes to transforming the Red Sea into an area of permanent tension. Sudan, in this interpretation, is neither an ally nor an enemy. Nothing but a vector; a space where war, stripped of any political finality, becomes one instrument among others of global strategic rivalry… The cynicism of realpolitik pushed to the extreme. Read also on the same topic: Sudan's Collapse: War for War's Sake (1/4) Red Sea, Gulf, and Horn of Africa: The Regionalization of the Sudanese Conflict (2/4) Next article: Sudan's War: Scenarios, False Settlements, and Strategic Dead Ends (4/4)

Haykal's response to Senator Graham: everything is relative

Americans are known for being "direct," especially in the questions they ask their interlocutors, expecting an automatic, Manichaean answer: yes/no, black/white. Kash Patel, FBI director, during his Senate hearing, was relentlessly pressed by Senator Eric Swalwell with the same question: "Did you inform the Attorney General about the mention of Donald Trump's name in the Epstein file, yes or no?", a question to which Patel did not give the expected categorical answer. While the answer to this question is simple, as it concerns a fact, the one posed by Senator Lindsey Graham, in Washington, to the army's commander-in-chief, General Rodolphe Haykal, is, however, much more complex, as it concerns an opinion, or even a political stance. "Do you consider Hezbollah a terrorist organization?" is the quintessential question to which the army commander certainly could not answer with a simple affirmation or negation. His reply "No, in the Lebanese context" is not skillful, but it is not false either. He could have said that, as long as the Lebanese government has not officially banned this organization, he is not in a position to comment on the matter, being himself a military officer executing instructions given to him by the political power. However, and at the risk that the following comments may shock, Hezbollah is not (yet) considered an outlaw organization in Lebanon, especially since it is represented within the government and Parliament itself. Unlike the IRA, which had the idea of separating its paramilitary wing from its political wing (Sinn Fein), which, thanks to leaders like Gerry Adams, managed to gain the upper hand over the militia, Hezbollah's military wing is the one that dominates the political wing, as well as the entire Lebanese system. Hezbollah MPs pose in militia attire, defend all positions as well as the instigation of wars and hostilities that have devastated the country. The most disheartening thing is that other political factions, out of opportunism or, worse still, conviction, defend Hezbollah, which, during its glorious thirty years (from 1994 to 2024), has managed to extend its influence throughout the entire Lebanese administration, including the army. It is undeniable that, since September 27, 2024, the militia's decline has begun. However, asking subordinates to change their ways (literally "change shoulder rifle" in this context) is utopian. The episode of the illumination of the Raouché grotto is the most flagrant example. One must give time to time, as Cervantes wrote, even if our political and/or military institutions show a certain quixotism by avoiding seeing "the elephant in the room" and tackling other problems that will never truly be resolved until Hezbollah has been definitively demilitarized. But, here's the thing: time is pressing, and we don't have the luxury of waiting. Therefore, Rodolphe Haykal's answer is not wrong: everything is relative, everything is a matter of perception. At the moment the question was asked, Hezbollah is not a terrorist organization in the eyes of the State. Otherwise, it would mean that Ministers Chéhadé, Issa el Khoury, Nassar, Raggi, and Saddi, as well as all sovereignist deputies, associate and discuss with criminals, and in a certain sense, are themselves criminals. One could always say in their defense that Judas had irreproachable friends, but that still remains a simplistic view of the situation. Consequently, and very objectively, the fact that General Haykal gave an answer that does not necessarily correspond to the aspirations of a majority of Lebanese is not particularly reprehensible. However, what is unfortunate is that Hezbollah's lobotomized camp, their cerberuses and other individuals suffering from Mar Mikhael syndrome, far more powerful than that of Stockholm, which celebrated its twentieth anniversary, have already used and abused, in an Epsteinian manner, General Haykal's remarks to resurrect the triptych "army, people and resistance," a true triolism that the country and its entire population have endured for decades. It remains to be hoped that the president will not bestow a new decoration upon Rodolphe Haykal's return, especially since the one he previously received (after Raouché) was the highest distinction. Unless a new category is envisioned: that of relative merit, a medal for services rendered to national confusion, awarded with honors by a State that prefers to decorate its contradictions rather than face its reality....

Beware of the Trivialization of Massacres in Iran

Secretary of State Marco Rubio hit the nail on the head, without mincing words. Showing himself paradoxically not very 'diplomatic' on this occasion, he displayed magnificent frankness by summarizing in a few words, in a short laconic phrase, the basis of the Iranian crisis from the perspective of the strained relations between Washington and the Islamic Republic. 'The leadership in Iran is in no way a reflection of the Iranian population (…). I'm not sure we can reach a deal with these people'... These remarks echo those made in the same vein by former French Minister of Foreign Affairs and Defense Jean-Yves Le Drian, who is well acquainted with the centers of power in Tehran, having dealt with them. 'They are very good at trickery (…),' he emphasized in a televised interview. 'Their only concern is to buy time and (ensure) the longevity of the regime.' Everything is said… But it still seems vital, particularly in the current context, to constantly bear in mind the ideological dimension, the deeply (and dangerously) theocratic foundations of the mullahs' regime, especially of the Revolutionary Guard Corps (the Pasdaran). It is by being fully aware of this doctrinaire, in all respects obscurantist dimension, that it becomes possible to perceive to what extent the American-Iranian 'talks' scheduled for this Friday, February 6, in Oman, risk constituting nothing more than a vast deception… Or, worse still, a serious strategic and historical, even moral, error. After the large-scale massacres perpetrated in a matter of days by the security apparatus of the mullahs' regime, one can only condemn any 'deal' that would be concluded in Oman and that would be politically immoral in the highest degree. It would indeed represent a shameful rehabilitation, a reaffirmation of the alleged legitimacy of a power that killed in cold blood, in 48 hours (January 8 and 9), no less than 30,000 young people and adolescents in the prime of their lives (much more, even, according to various sources), some of whom were hanged from a crane, others liquidated at point-blank range on their hospital beds after being wounded by live bullets, still others coldly poisoned with mercury… Not to mention the arrests of doctors accused of treating demonstrators (!), and students abducted in the middle of university campuses. To trivialize, under the guise of cynical realpolitik , the abominable atrocities for which the mullahs' regime is guilty, with complete impunity, would undoubtedly have the effect – if such a complacent stance is confirmed – of casting a heavy discredit on those who present themselves as standard-bearers of democratic values in the world and who are already bitterly called 'quitters' by many Iranians. Parallel to this moral aspect, a rehabilitation of the current power through a supposed agreement, even a global one, will undoubtedly strengthen and embolden the radical wing of the Pasdaran, with all the destabilizing political (on a regional level) and destructive (on a security level) consequences that a deal that is manifestly deceptive would entail… No one is unaware, in this regard, that the leaders of the Islamic Republic have elevated lying and takiya (the dissimulation of true political intentions) into a system of governance based on a theocratic ideology, which, due to its divine character, imposes ensuring the perpetuity of power by all possible means. In this context, blind violence, mass killings, bloodshed, savage repression, torture, death sentences, summary executions become 'legitimate' and even constitute a religious duty. Deception and takiya, combined with the absolute political power attributed to the Supreme Leader (the walih el-faqih ), Imam Khamenei, in his capacity as the divine representative of the disappeared Imam el-Mahdi, explain why the mullahs' regime continuously pretends to discuss the nuclear issue with the international community, and particularly with Western powers. Except that these negotiations have been going on for nearly… 25 years! And, when an agreement is reached, Tehran has no scruples in brazenly failing to respect its commitments. At each difficult phase the Islamic Republic goes through, the Supreme Leader gives the deceptive impression that he wishes to 'dialogue'; the real objective, however, is to gain time, awaiting a change of power in a decision-making country or an evolution towards a more favorable situation that would allow the hegemonic and expansionist policy initiated since 1979 by the Revolutionary Guard Corps to be relaunched with renewed vigor. A year ago, almost to the day, on February 9, 2025, President Donald Trump declared that he hoped Iran would change its course of conduct, emphasizing that he wished to reach an agreement with Tehran instead of embarking on a military path. That was a year ago… We know what happened next. The meeting in Oman is taking place today even though the mullahs' regime has not changed its anti-Western and fundamentally anti-American line of conduct by one iota since… 1979, displayed relentlessly for 47 years, as illustrated by the recent media posturing of Iranian deputies who, disguised as Pasdaran militiamen, chanted in unison a few days ago, in the middle of Parliament, 'Death to America,' while joyfully burning an American flag…

Saif al-Islam Gaddafi: Anatomy of a Betrayal
By
Khairallah Khairallah
Published

A single question imposes itself on anyone attempting to unravel the mystery surrounding the assassination of Saif al-Islam, the most prominent of Muammar Gaddafi’s sons, a man of singular ideas and conduct, and the presumed heir of a ruler who governed Libya from 1969 to 2011. The question is simple yet decisive: who lifted the protection from Saif al-Islam, at a time when he was living in a house in Zintan under tight security provided by local forces? One thing is certain: Saif al-Islam was betrayed. A betrayal that enabled an armed group to enter the place where he resided, with the explicit aim of assassinating him. Seasoned observers of Libyan affairs largely agree in dismissing the hypothesis that local forces, acting alone, could have been behind the operation targeting Saif al-Islam. He had played a role both domestically and internationally and had prepared himself to succeed his father — or so he believed. There are no local forces in Libya capable, on their own, of carrying out an operation of this nature, requiring such a degree of coordination and professionalism. What was at stake, in reality, was the settling of accounts with any internal or external force likely to support Muammar Gaddafi’s son and help him one day reach the presidency. It should be recalled in this regard that the presidential elections scheduled for 2021 were cancelled as soon as opinion polls revealed that Saif al-Islam’s victory constituted a serious possibility. In recent months, the emergence of new actors on the Libyan stage, such as Pakistan and India, has not gone unnoticed. This should not be interpreted as evidence of a Pakistani or Indian role in Saif al-Islam’s assassination, but rather as a sign of the widening conflict and competing interests surrounding Libya. The country remains torn by deep fault lines between East and West. In the East, the forces of Khalifa Haftar and his three sons — Saddam, Khaled, and Belkacem — exercise their dominance. In the West, power is held, within certain limits, by the government of Abdelhamid Dbeibah, who, like Haftar, has begun to rely on his own sons. Yet the most significant event Libya witnessed roughly two months ago was the death of the Libyan Chief of Staff, Mohamed Haddad, while he was in Ankara at the head of a military delegation. His private plane, an aging Falcon, crashed shortly after takeoff. The circumstances of the accident remain obscure. The aircraft was carrying one of Libya’s most senior military officials, whose exact coordination with Turkey remains unknown, despite Ankara’s close relations with the Dbeibah government on the one hand and with Islamist movements in Libya on the other. What matters today is that a major actor has exited the Libyan stage, for reasons that are both internal and external. This does not mean, however, that Saif al-Islam was an exceptional politician. He was above all a figure who knew the world and, at a certain moment, attempted to play a role, despite his father’s opposition, which prevented him from going too far in the relationships he had established with Western countries and certain American circles. In reality, Saif did not possess the means necessary to implement the reforms to which he aspired. His ability to control Libyan state funds always remained limited. Muammar Gaddafi, fully aware that money constituted one of the principal sources of his power, retained total control over the country’s resources. He never accepted sharing absolute authority, not even with one of his sons. From this perspective, Saif remained a secondary actor for as long as his father was alive, despite the image he cultivated as a reformer and as the embodiment of a possible future for a Libya that Muammar Gaddafi had succeeded in turning into a pariah state. The failure of the satellite television channel he launched in Libya offers a telling illustration of this reality. The channel’s employees endured severe hardship when the funds allocated to it were abruptly cut off, even though Saif personally supervised the project. Saif al-Islam was not only marginalized outside Libya during the years of his father’s rule and of what was known as the “Jamahiriya”; he was also marginalized internally, where centers of power were directly controlled by Muammar Gaddafi himself. Abdullah Senussi constituted one such pole of power, as did some of Saif’s brothers, notably Moatassem and Khamis. Other figures close to the elder Gaddafi carried out specific missions on his behalf. Contrary to a widespread belief, it was not Saif who negotiated the agreement by which Libya renounced its weapons of mass destruction. That agreement was concluded by George Tenet, then Director of the CIA, who established a direct channel with Moussa Koussa, head of Libyan intelligence. It was Muammar Gaddafi himself who ordered the abandonment of those weapons after realizing, in light of the exchanges between Tenet and Moussa Koussa, the futility of any attempt to evade rigorous American surveillance. After the death of his father Muammar and of most of his brothers, Saif remained the sole survivor of the family. He managed to adapt to the phase that followed the fall of the regime. The chaos that took hold in Libya nourished his ambitions — a chaos that has persisted since the end of the “Jamahiriya,” resulting both from a genuine popular revolution and from NATO’s intervention, which pursued Gaddafi until his physical elimination. Only time will make it possible to identify those who assassinated Saif al-Gaddafi. The days ahead will reveal whether political Islam in Libya and its networks, benefiting from external support, played a role in eliminating a figure capable of filling the political vacuum from which the country has suffered for more than fourteen years. Ultimately, Saif al-Gaddafi, who at one point attempted to publish a book bearing his name, held political ideas that were largely naïve. Yet he consistently refused to enter the game of political Islam and remained, like his father, deeply hostile to the ideology of the Muslim Brotherhood and to all organizations born from the intellectual matrix of Hassan al-Banna and his companions.

Has the United States’ Long-Term Decline Already Begun? (1/2)

Following the Allied victory in the Second World War, the United States emerged as a superpower, shaping the course of the Western world. Its vast industrial machine was instrumental in securing the military defeat of fascism. In the first part of this analysis, we examine how the US established its model – not only through military might, but also by creating a new global economic, financial, and institutional order. In a forthcoming second part, we will consider the risks now confronting America. Many economists and commentators argue that the United States has entered the early stages of a secular decline. As outlined in the work of Russian economist Nikolai Kondratieff in the 1930s, global history unfolds through long economic and geopolitical cycles. These eras – often lasting between 60 and 80 years – are typically dominated by a leading power and accompanied by major technological revolutions and transfers of global leadership. From China around the year 900, to the Italian city-states of the Renaissance, to the British Empire under Queen Elizabeth I, successive cycles of world economic dominance have followed this pattern. The era of American global leadership broadly began after World War II. What we are witnessing today – both domestically and internationally – may be the early signs that this leadership is beginning to unwind within the coming decade. America’s Rise from “Emerging Market” to “Superpower” Before World War II, the United States was not yet the unchallenged center of global power. In many respects, it still resembled an emerging economy – powered by a new energy source, oil, and by transformative innovations such as the automobile and the telephone. It was a land of opportunity, driven by a more liberated entrepreneurial spirit than the dominant British Empire and the mature European democracies. The American model combined a “can-do” mindset, rapid industrial expansion, high growth rates, speculative dynamism, and the typical “risk-taking” investment posture common to emerging economies. As history repeatedly shows, emerging-market excesses often carry the seeds of their own crises. That trajectory culminated in the 1929 crash, followed by the Great Depression of the 1930s. At that time, real capital concentration and geopolitical weight still resided in Europe. The United Kingdom remained the anchor of the global order, with the pound sterling serving as the currency of international trade and finance. World War II: The Great Transfer of Power World War II changed everything. Europe was shattered. Asia was devastated. Tens of millions perished. Entire nations – including Germany and Japan – were physically, industrially, and institutionally ruined. The British Empire itself was critically weakened, and the balance of power shifted irreversibly. America’s initial isolationism, combined with its extraordinary industrial capacity and geographic insulation, allowed it to become the arsenal of the Allied world. The United States supplied everything from grain to cannons, from ammunition to ships and aircraft. The inflection point came on December 7, 1941, when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. The United States entered the war, first in the Pacific and then in Europe. The Allied victories – May 8, 1945, in Europe and September 2, 1945, in Asia – did more than end a conflict. They propelled the United States into the role of the dominant global power, succeeding the declining British Empire. The Post-War Order: America Builds the System It Will Depend On British economist John Maynard Keynes addressing the Bretton Woods conference in July 1944, which founded the global financial system with the creation of the IMF and the World Bank. (Staff/IMF/AFP) Through the Marshall Plan in Europe and a decade of oversight in Japan, Washington positioned itself as the provider of capital, the architect of reconstruction, and the reference model of Western modernity, capitalism, and governance. But America’s most consequential act was not merely rebuilding economies. It rebuilt the rules. The United States constructed an international order rooted in multilateralism, the rule of law, and institutional architecture designed to promote peace, security, and economic cooperation. Washington played a central role in shaping the institutions that defined the post-war world: the United Nations; the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund; NATO; and regional frameworks such as the Organization of American States. Over time, this architecture expanded to include bodies such as the World Health Organization, UNICEF, the G7, and the G20. This architecture was not moral symbolism. It was strategic infrastructure – and it became the scaffolding of American power. The Fall of Communism Cements America’s Role as the World Leader The collapse of centrally planned communist economies further consolidated American dominance. China’s opening in 1978 and the fall of the Soviet bloc in 1989 appeared to confirm the triumph of the American model. Francis Fukuyama famously framed this moment in The End of History and the Last Man as the final form of political and economic organization. For a time, American supremacy appeared indefinite. This dominance is often attributed to democracy. The reality is less comforting. The United States did not prevail primarily because of its democratic governance model. It prevailed because of the superior efficiency of its capitalist ecosystem, the productivity of private enterprise, and the stakeholder corporate governance system developed in Western Europe as early as 1602 with the Dutch East India Company – a system that is fundamentally not democratic. America’s economic efficiency won World War II. Conversely, the inefficiency of centrally planned economies doomed communist ideology long before political legitimacy collapsed. US President Ronald Reagan and Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev during a meeting in 1985. (Ann Ronan Picture Library/Photo12 via AFP) Democracy, as a political system, is structurally inefficient when it comes to long-term planning, structural reform, and strategic trade-offs – whether in the United States, Europe, or many developing nations. Examples abound: Germany’s abandonment of nuclear energy; France’s and Britain’s repeated failures to reform pensions and healthcare; or America’s lag in building infrastructure. But the broader argument is even more striking: the phenomenal rise of countries such as China and the United Arab Emirates over the past five decades is almost entirely attributable to their ability to function not as democracies, but as strategic corporations. They adopted Western private corporate stakeholder governance as their public governance model: – In China, the people are the “clients” and the Communist Party acts like the “shareholders” of the national enterprise. For the shareholders to remain in power, they need to satisfy the clients – as a private company needs to satisfy its clients to thrive, grow, and remain profitable. – In the UAE, nationals and residents are the clients, and the ruling Emirati tribes act as the strategic owners of the system. In both cases, ultimate decision-making power does not sit with clients or voters in a consumer-like relationship. It sits with highly skilled decision-makers who define a vision – and can implement it without being paralyzed by permanent pressure groups or unqualified political bargaining – under the control of their shareholders. China’s leap forward in technology, infrastructure, communications, research, critical minerals, solar power, electric vehicles, or high-speed rail has everything to do with the state’s ability to dictate industrial priorities and fund long-term national objectives at scale, in research, technology, and infrastructure. Likewise, the UAE’s rise into a global platform – where capital, entrepreneurship, and talent come to live, invest, and build – stems from proactive policies designed to create a stable, safe, tax-friendly environment for entrepreneurs, wealthy individuals, skilled workers, and researchers from more than 200 nations. Democracy Sometimes Elects Its Own Destroyers There is another, darker flaw inside democratic systems. Democracy can enable authoritarianism – not by force, but by consent. It allows demagogues to rise to power through the mechanics of elections, often by inflaming sentiment, fear, identity, and resentment. Then, once in office, they twist institutions and weaken counterpowers until democracy becomes procedural theater. From Hitler to Mussolini to Franco; from Erdoğan to Putin – history is clear. This raises an uncomfortable question: is the United States approaching such a moment? There are increasing signs that American democracy may now be facing its harshest stress test since its creation in 1776. When America Turns Against the Order It Built America’s power was never only military or economic. It was institutional. The United States embedded its strength into a world order it built through rules, alliances, treaties, and credibility. That system underpinned the dollar, U.S. capital markets, and America’s global leadership. But the moment the United States begins to treat that order as optional – or worse, as an obstacle to be dismantled – it is no longer weakening its rivals. It is weakening itself. Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again” doctrine embraces isolationism and coercion: unilateral tariffs, withdrawals from dozens of international agreements, and sharp restrictions on immigration. These policies are reshaping not only America, but the international system itself. Here lies the core fault line of modern geopolitics. The renewed discussion of U.S. claims over Greenland is emblematic. Greenland is not just an Arctic landmass. It is linked to Denmark – a NATO ally – and embedded in the Western alliance framework. The issue is not territory. It is credibility. It raises a far more consequential question: has the United States now positioned itself above the rules-based order? And the moment that perception spreads, the consequences do not remain confined to the Arctic. They reverberate across every contested border, every fragile treaty, every alliance commitment, and every currency regime. It tells Russia that spheres of influence are legitimate again. It tells China that coercion is merely the natural expression of power – and that if Washington allows itself to use coercion against its own allies over Greenland, it forfeits the moral authority to deny Beijing the same logic over Taiwan. It tells middle powers that legal sovereignty is questionable – less a principle than a convenience, as recent events in Venezuela have demonstrated. And, far more consequentially, it tells America’s own allies that their security, their economies, and their trade ultimately rest not on law, but on the sole will of Washington. Davos 2026: The Turning Point Far from leaning into Donald Trump’s negotiating tactics, world leaders finally realized that they could no longer consider the U.S. a reliable partner – economically, militarily, and technologically. And the response was immediate. On January 27, 2026, the EU and India signed the India–European Union Free Trade Agreement, bringing together two billion people in a trade arrangement covering roughly a quarter of global GDP. Canadian, Australian, and European leaders are flocking to China to secure access to the world’s largest consumer market, and European nations are rethinking their military architecture to reduce their dependence on the US and on NATO. This is how international orders collapse: through a constant and cumulative erosion of legitimacy – where enforcement power remains, but the moral foundation evaporates. America’s dominance was never indestructible. It was conditional on one critical asset that cannot be manufactured with military spending or fiscal deficits: credibility. And credibility, once broken, cannot be rebuilt with slogans. We may have reached the point of no return… Next article: Has the United States’ long-term decline already begun (2/2) The fragility of the economy, a real danger