Category: The Conversation – Global Perspectives

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Romain Fathi, Senior Lecturer, School of History, ANU / Chercheur Associé at the Centre d’Histoire de Sciences Po, Australian National University

Over the past year, French President Emmanuel Macron has emerged as one of the most influential leaders on the global stage.

His diplomatic activism has reshaped alliances, advanced European priorities and positioned France as a central player in addressing some of the world’s most pressing challenges.

In recent months alone, Macron has:

• cemented a coalition to offer Ukraine security guarantees and military support from 26 countries

• convinced many countries to follow France’s lead in recognising a state of Palestine

• secured a massive trade deal with Vietnam, strategic agreements with Indonesia, and cooperation deals with Brazil and Singapore

• pushed for a High Seas Treaty to protect the world’s oceans.

Domestically, however, his presidency is in crisis. His approval ratings have plummeted to as low as 15% as he has grappled with political paralysis, public discontent and a fragmented National Assembly.

The latest blow to Macron’s presidency occurred this week when his chosen prime minister was ousted by the assembly after serving just 270 days.

This domestic instability has raised questions about France’s – and Macron’s – political future. Some in France are calling for him to step aside before the end of his term in April 2027, triggering new elections.

Revolving door of prime ministers

Macron’s troubles began after his re-election in April 2022 against Marine Le Pen, a victory seen by many as a vote against the far right rather than an endorsement of his agenda.

Traditionally, a freshly elected president gains a strong parliamentary majority, but Macron’s coalition lost its majority in the June 2022 legislative elections.

The first prime minister of his second term, Élisabeth Borne, resigned after 19 months, amid a public and legislative backlash against Macron’s pension reforms. Her successor, Gabriel Attal, faced the same legislative deadlock and did not last six months.

In June 2024, Macron dissolved the National Assembly, hoping fresh elections would resolve the persistent political instability. It backfired. The elections produced an even more fragmented parliament, making governance nearly impossible.

It took Macron seven weeks to appoint a new prime minister, Michel Barnier, during which time France successfully hosted the 2024 Olympics under a caretaker government, a rare bright spot in the political chaos.

Barnier lasted just three months. His replacement, François Bayrou, resigned this week after a resounding no-confidence vote.

Macron has few good options

Macron wasted no time in appointing a successor this week, Sébastien Lecornu, whose key mission will be to pass the October budget.

The 39-year-old Lecornu is a Macron faithful and has been a member of every government since Macron become president in 2017. He has most recently served as a steady defence minister during the Russian war on Ukraine.

At this stage, however, the new government is not likely to last long, for the same reason the others have fallen: a politically fragmented National Assembly that has sought to oppose Macron at every opportunity. Key to Lecornu’s survival will be his ability to appoint well-known ministers from both the moderate left and moderate right, a difficult equation.

Macron has few options to address the bitter opposition he faces in the assembly. He could dissolve the body again, but this risks further empowering the far left and far right, who are pushing for new elections.

Or, he could buckle to the pressure to resign. However, there is no legal obligation for him to do so, and he remains committed to serving out his term.

Growing popular frustration

This decision risks making him even more unpopular in the short term.

Many citizens blame Macron for the current instability, dating back to his election in 2017. When he came into office, Macron revolutionised the French political landscape. The country had traditionally been ruled by either the moderate left (the Socialists) or the moderate right (the Republicans). But Macron delivered a majority at the centre, which had not been seen since 1974.

The issue, however, is that this weakened the moderate left and right. By siphoning supporters from both sides to build his coalition, he decimated the Socialists and Republicans. This in turn gave more power to the far left and far right to become a more vocal and destabilising opposition.

The public also widely views Macron’s decision to call snap elections last year as a reckless gamble that only deepened the country’s divisions.

And his pension reforms, economic policies and perceived favouritism towards the wealthy continue to fuel public anger.

In fact, Macron faces a new wave of nationwide protests on Wednesday called Bloquons Tout (Let’s Block Everything) over economic inequality, rising costs of living and his policies.

Where to from here?

Macron insists it’s his duty to uphold France’s institutions, even in turbulent times. He has signalled his intention to stay the course, using his constitutional powers to govern, despite the lack of a stable majority.

Yet, the French public is growing impatient. His optimism and resilience are being tested as never before.

The coming months will be crucial. If he can pass the budget and restore some stability, he may yet salvage his second term.

If not, France could face a prolonged period of political paralysis, with no clear resolution in sight, at least not until the next scheduled presidential election in April 2027.

Macron can’t run in 2027 – he is barred from serving for more than two consecutive terms. However, he may have ambitions to run again in 2032, despite how toxic his brand has become.

In the end, Macron’s legacy may hinge on how he navigates the current crisis. Paradoxically, although the French have lost confidence in his domestic political vision for France, the moderate majority still believes the potential alternatives (such as Le Pen) are far riskier, and Macron knows this.

Romain Fathi does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Emmanuel Macron’s presidency is in survival mode. How did France’s political paralysis get so bad? – https://theconversation.com/emmanuel-macrons-presidency-is-in-survival-mode-how-did-frances-political-paralysis-get-so-bad-264870

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Jeff Bachman, Associate Professor, Department of Peace, Human Rights & Cultural Relations, American University School of International Service

Is the conflict in Eastern Europe a “special military operation in Ukraine” or a “Russian invasion”? And when it comes to events in the Middle East, are we talking about the “Israeli-Palestinian conflict,” the “War on Gaza” or the “Israel-Hamas war”?

As scholars who study international security, we know that how people refer to a war matters. The name may, for example, signal the speaker’s perspective on who is responsible for the fighting and, therefore, to blame for the death and destruction that follows.

We explored this idea as part of a recent analysis of how scholars discussed the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003 compared with Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. The results of our research show that scholars used diametrically opposed language in describing and referring to the two wars. While the vast majority described the conflict between Iraq and the U.S. as the “Iraq war” – referencing just one of the participants – the most common ways of referring to the current conflict in Eastern Europe are variations of the “Russia-Ukraine War” – which includes both participants.

This sparked our interest into delving deeper into war-naming conventions. What we found is that the way wars are referred to in the U.S. – by politician, journalists and in public scholarship – tends to serve state interests and power rather than necessarily reflect the realities of conflicts.

War-naming conventions

There are a number of different ways in which wars are named, but they can be broadly grouped around place, participants or time.

In the first category, you have examples ranging from the “Vietnam War” to the “Falklands War.” Both examples, incidentally, highlight the fact that a war’s name may differ from place to place. The Vietnam War is the “American War” to the Vietnamese, and Argentinians talk of the “War of the Malvinas.”

In the second category are conflicts such as the “Spanish-American War,” the “Franco-Prussian War” and the “Sino-Japanese War” of 1894–1895. These are also subject to some variation, known in France and China as the “War of 1870” and the “Jiawu war,” respectively.

Wars are named after other conventions, too. They can be named after significant factors that make them stand out – examples include holidays in which the conflict took place in the case of the “Yom Kippur War” – or how long they last, such as the “Thirty Years’ War.”

At first look, naming wars after their location, participants, starting date or duration might appear to be an exercise in objective detachment. But examining why one naming convention is used over another can reveal a particular perspective or bias.

Historian Danny Keenan has demonstrated how decisions are made in naming wars that may imply culpability among the actors involved. He notes that what has come to be known as the “New Zealand Wars” was once referred to as “The Māori Wars.”

“It was generally acknowledged that Māori should not bear such responsibility” implied by the earlier name, writes Keenan.

The New Zealand/Māori Wars name change gets at a wider point that naming conflicts after one participant can be problematic, especially when there is a power imbalance.

Take the British naming of their colonial wars after the populations they were subjugating, such as the “Xhosa Wars” or the “Mahdist War.” Naming an interstate war based on the state in which the war is fought – while omitting the name of outside instigators – implies the culpability of that state.

And more powerful actors, such as colonial powers, have historically been able to make their chosen name stick, obscuring their role in the violence.

When apparent objectivity belies bias

While naming wars after both participants seemingly avoids these biases, what becomes evident is that the order in which participants are listed matters. For example, the “Philippine-American War” – fought between 1899-1902 – may imply that the U.S. engaged in that conflict only in response to the actions of an antagonist, even though it was the U.S. that was seeking to deny the Philippines independence.

The results of our research into the U.S.’s and Russia’s respective invasions of Iraq and Ukraine demonstrate how different naming conventions are used politically.

“Iraq war,” we argue, suggests full culpability on Iraq for the war being fought on its territory, despite Iraq having not attacked the U.S. or its allies. It also entirely omits the U.S., even though it was the invading force.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, meanwhile, is referred to by public scholars and media in a variety of ways that emphasize Russia or President Vladimir Putin as an aggressive antagonist. Examples include Russia’s “murderous war on Ukraine”; “Vladimir Putin’s war on Ukraine”; and “Russian war against Ukraine.”

The New York Times and Foreign Policy Magazine include articles about the war under the topic heading “Russia-Ukraine War,” and The Washington Post and the magazine Foreign Affairs do so under “War in Ukraine.”

Although “War in Ukraine” employs the location naming convention, the other headlines and topic headings use the participants convention, leading with Russia as the antagonist. Noticeably absent is any reference to the “Ukraine War.”

What to call the Middle East conflict?

The naming of the current conflict in the Middle East presents its own issues.

The New York Times and Foreign Affairs, both of which we analyzed for our research, as well as other U.S.-based popular news media such as USA Today and Detroit Free Press, all headline their coverage of Gaza and Israel with the “Israel-Hamas War.”

Based on what research tells us regarding naming conventions, what might this tell us?

First, consider the placement of Israel first. This could identify Israel as the aggressor. However, the use of “Hamas” over “Gaza” is noteworthy. Hamas is recognized by the U.S. and most of the Western world as a terrorist organization. As such, placing Israel first actually can be understood as a legitimation of Israel’s violence.

Also, their is no mention of Palestine, Palestinians, Gaza or Gazans.

This is despite Israeli actions long superseding the targeting of Hamas. Israel’s plans now include the full occupation of, at least, large parts of Gaza and the potential displacement of Gaza’s people.

The move away from the use of “Palestinian” cannot, we argue, be assumed to be incidental. Since October 2023, mentions of the “Israeli-Palestinian” conflict have seemingly become rarer, despite the growing, and related, violence in the West Bank and Jerusalem.

Finally, the use of the term “war” in referring to the “Israeli-Hamas war” can itself be problematic as it indicates a certain level of symmetry.

In the current conflict in Gaza, that is not the case: Israel possesses a far superior and advanced military. And since the Hamas attack on Oct. 7, 2023, in which 1,200 Israelis were killed, those killed have nearly entirely been Palestinians – over 63,000 as of September 2025.

The difference in size and capability between Israel’s military and Hamas is such that using the term “war” is, we believe, misleading.

It may be more accurate to describe it as an “occupation” or “a noninternational armed conflict.” A growing number of international bodies are calling it a “genocide.”

Challenging war narratives

How media, scholars and politicians refer to specific wars says a lot about how they would like them to be perceived. It is not coincidence, we argue, that wars and violence perpetrated by the U.S. and its allies are typically named in ways that contribute to a beneficial narrative, while the opposite is true when those deemed U.S. enemies are involved.

Repetition of such names for war and violence can reinforce narratives that serve state interests – it makes sense, therefore, for state officials to propagate names that potentially misinform. When news media and experts do the same, however, it undermines society’s ability to substantially challenge dominant framings in times of war.

The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. When it comes to wars − from the Middle East to Ukraine − what we call them matters – https://theconversation.com/when-it-comes-to-wars-from-the-middle-east-to-ukraine-what-we-call-them-matters-263388

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By David Mednicoff, Associate Professor of Middle Eastern Studies and Public Policy, UMass Amherst

The oil-rich states of Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates have a lot going for them: wealth, domestic stability and growing global influence. In recent months, these Gulf kingdoms also appear closer to something they have long sought: reliable U.S. support that has become stronger and more uncritical than ever, just as Iranian power in the region has significantly degraded.

In Donald Trump, the nonelected Gulf Arab monarchs have an ally in Washington who has largely shed previous American concerns for democracy and human rights. That the American president made his first scheduled international trip of his second term to Saudi Arabia, Qatar and the UAE only underscores their international clout.

Additionally, the popular overthrow of the Assad government in Syria and Israel’s war against Iran and its allies in Lebanon and Yemen have served to greatly weaken Tehran’s perceived threat to Gulf Arab interests.

Yet, as an expert on Middle Eastern politics, I believe Gulf Arab countries must still navigate a regional political tightrope. And as the Israeli targeting of senior Hamas leaders in Qatar on Sept. 9, 2025, shows, events by other Middle Eastern actors have a nasty habit of derailing Gulf leaders’ plans.

How these countries manage four particular uncertainties will have a significant effect on their hopes for stability and growth.

1. Managing a post-civil war Syria

In Syria, years of civil war that had exacerbated splits among ethnic and religious groups finally ended in December 2024. Since then, Arab Gulf countries, which once opposed the Iranian-allied government of Bashar Assad, have been pivotal in supporting new Syrian President Ahmed al-Sharaa. They successfully lobbied the U.S. to drop sanctions.

In addition to sharing mutual regional interests with Sharaa, the leaders of Gulf Arab states want a Syrian state that is free from internal war and can absorb the millions of refugees that fled the conflict to other countries in the Middle East.

Gulf states can support postwar Syria diplomatically and financially. However, they can’t wish away the legacy of long war and sectarian strife. Israeli attacks on Syrian soil since Assad’s fall, as well as recent outbreaks of fighting in the Sweida region of southern Syria, underscore the ongoing fragility of the Syrian government and concerns over its ability to contain violence and migration outside of its borders.

2. The challenge of regional politics

Syria illustrates a broader policy challenge for Gulf states. As their wealth, military strength and influence have grown, these countries have become dominant in the Arab world.

As a result, Qatar, Saudi Arabia and the UAE have invested billions of dollars in efforts to influence governments and groups across the world. This includes the mostly authoritarian governments in the Middle East and North Africa, such as Egypt’s.

But here, Gulf states are torn politically. If democratic systems form elsewhere in the Arab world, this could encourage Gulf citizens to push for elected government at home. Yet overly coercive Arab governments outside of the Gulf can be prone to popular unrest and even civil war.

Propping up unpopular regional governments risks backfiring on Gulf Arab leaders in one of two ways.

First, it can entice Gulf states into protracted and damaging wars, such as was the case with Saudi Arabia and the UAE’s failed military intervention in Yemen against the Houthis. Second, it can drive a wedge between Gulf states, as is seen with the current conflict in Sudan, in which the Saudis and Emiratis are backing rival factions.

3. Watching which way Iran will turn

Always looming behind complicated Middle Eastern politics is Iran, the historically powerful, populous, non-Arab country whose governing Shiite Islam ideology has been the chief antagonist to the Sunni-led Gulf Arab states since the Iranian Revolution in 1979.

Opposing Gulf Arab and American strategic interests, Iran has for years intervened aggressively in Middle Eastern politics by funding and encouraging militant Shiite groups in Iraq, Lebanon, Yemen and elsewhere.

An assertive Iran has been especially a thorn in the side of Saudi Arabia, which strives to be the dominant Muslim majority power in the region. Dealing with Iran has required careful balancing from Qatar and the UAE, which are more directly exposed to Tehran geographically and have maintained relatively stronger relations.

Given this, Gulf countries may silently welcome the decrease in Iran’s military power in the wake of Israel’s recent war against Iran and its allies, such as Hezbollah in Lebanon, while also fearing further Iranian-Israeli conflict.

At the same time, a less powerful Iran runs two types of new potential dangers for Gulf states. Should Iran become more unstable, the resulting turmoil could be felt across the region.

In addition, should Iran’s military, policy and economic turmoil lead to a new political system, it could disturb Gulf countries. Neither a Muslim majority democratic government nor a more hard-line nationalist variant in Iran would sit well with nearby Gulf monarchs.

Conversely, concerns that the Israeli and U.S. bombing of Iran may actually lead to increased Iranian determination to pursue a nuclear program also worry Gulf leaders.

4. Living with Israel’s military assertiveness

Israel, the unquestioned military power and sole nuclear weapons state in the region, has long posed particularly deep political dilemmas to Gulf Arab states. The current challenge is how to balance the immense global unpopularity of the Israeli government’s war in Gaza – including among Gulf Arab citizens – with common strategic interests the Gulf states hold with Israel.

Gulf Arab leaders face domestic and regional pressure to show solidarity for Palestinians and their aspirations for statehood.

Yet Gulf rulers also share strategic goals with Israel. Along with opposition to Iranian influence, Gulf states maintain strong military links to the U.S, like Israel. They also appreciate the economic and other security value of Israel’s high-tech products, including software used for espionage and cybersecurity.

This helps explain the UAE’s 2019 decision to join the short list of Arab states with full diplomatic relations with Israel. Hamas attacked Israel in 2023 in part to stop Saudi Arabia from following suit – something that might have further sidelined Palestinians’ bargaining power.

Indeed, moves toward open Saudi diplomatic recognition of Israel were stopped by Hamas’ attack and the global backlash that followed Israel’s ongoing devastation of Gaza.

Gulf leaders may still believe that normalized ties with Israel would be good for the long-term economic prospects of the region. And Bahrain and the UAE – the two Gulf Arab states with diplomatic relations with Israel – have not backed away from their official relationship.

Yet expanding open relations with Israel further, and taking in other Gulf states, is unlikely without a real reversal in Israel’s policy toward Palestinians in both Gaza and the West Bank.

All this is more true in the immediate aftermath of Israel’s attack in Qatar – the first time Israel has launched a direct strike within a Gulf Arab state. That action, even if ostensibly directed at Hamas, is likely to exacerbate tensions not only with Qatar but place increasing stress on the calculus allied Gulf Arab countries make in their dealings with Israel.

Tricky way forward for Gulf Arab states

These challenges underscore an inescapable truth for Gulf leaders: They are hostage to events beyond their control.

Insulating them from that reality takes regional unity.

The Gulf Cooperation Council, nearly 45 years old, was established precisely for this purpose. While it remains the most successful regional organization in the Middle East, the GCC has not always prevented major rifts, such as in 2017 when a coalition of Arab states led by Saudi Arabia cut ties with and blockaded Qatar.

The conflict was resolved in 2021. Since then, the six members of the GCC have worked together more closely.

No doubt, rivalries and disagreements still exist. Yet Arab Gulf leaders have learned that cooperation is useful in the face of major challenges. This can be seen in the recent collaborative diplomatic approaches toward Syria and the U.S.

A second lesson comes from the broader Middle East. Key issues are often interdependent, particularly the status of Palestinians. Hamas’ attack on Israel, and the resulting destruction of much of Gaza, resurfaced the deep popularity across the region of addressing Palestinian needs and rights.

The monarchs of the Arab Gulf would like to maintain their unchallenged domestic political status while expanding their influence in the Middle East and beyond. However, even when Gulf leaders wish to be done with the region’s challenges, those challenges are not always done with them.

Isabella Ishanyan, a UMass Amherst undergraduate, provided research assistance for this article.

David Mednicoff held a research grant from the Qatar National Recent Fund from 2013-2016 which has no connection to anything discussed in this article.

– ref. Israel’s attack in Doha underscores a stark reality for Gulf states looking for stability and growth: They remain hostage to events – https://theconversation.com/israels-attack-in-doha-underscores-a-stark-reality-for-gulf-states-looking-for-stability-and-growth-they-remain-hostage-to-events-261146

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Scott Lucas, Professor of International Politics, Clinton Institute, University College Dublin

Israel launched an unprecedented airstrike on the Qatari capital of Doha on September 9, the first time it has directly attacked a Gulf state. The “precision strike”, as Israel has called it, targeted a building in which Hamas officials were reportedly discussing a peace proposal brokered by the US.

Al Jazeera has reported that it had been told by a Hamas official that none of its leadership weree killed in the strike.

The Qatari government said it “strongly condemns the cowardly Israeli attack”, which it described as “a blatant violation of international law”. Other Middle East states including Saudi Arabia condemned the Israeli strike, as did the secretary general of the United Nations, António Guterres, who said it was a “flagrant violation” of Qatari sovereignty.

It has also been reported that Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, informed the White House of Israel’s intentions before carrying out the attack. An Israeli official told local media that the US president, Donald Trump, had given the strike the “green light” but this has not been confirmed.

A statement released by Netanyahu’s office appeared to suggest the strike was at least partly in retaliation for the killing of six Israeli civilians at a bus stop in Jerusalem, for which Hamas has claimed responsibility.

Scott Lucas, a Middle East expert at Dublin City University, spoke to Jonathan Este, The Conversation’s senior international affairs editor, shortly after the attack. He addressed several key questions.

What’s the thinking behind Israel’s strike on Qatar? Why now?

The Israeli government is going for the kill with Hamas. Having staked his political and legal future on the “absolute destruction” of the organisation, Netanyahu cannot agree to a settlement in which it retains any place in Gaza, let alone power.

So he and some of his ministers have not engaged in negotiations for a ceasefire since the start of March. At that point, they pulled out of any discussion of a phase two, resumed the military assault on Gaza, and cut off humanitarian aid. They have only turned it back on in dribs and drabs. Aid distribution has been sporadic and all too often deadly for the people who queue for food. And it’s not enough to prevent widespread famine in Gaza.

But the problem for Netanyahu and his allies is that others continued to push for a resolution – both inside Israel, where citizens are beginning to get sick of endless war, and among Israel’s international allies, who are sickened by the images emerging from the Strip and under pressure from their own populations.

On more than one occasion, Hamas agreed – or at least came close to agreeing – terms put to them by mediators. In August, the Palestinian organisation did so again. At that point, the Israel government had a choice: accept the settlement, get the hostages back and pull back on the plan for a long-term occupation of Gaza. Or try to push aside the settlement while blaming Hamas, then expand its military operations to take over Gaza City.

Netanyahu’s commanders, including the head of the Israel Defense Forces, Eyal Zamir, warned against the assault on Gaza City. Other advisers noted the risk of further international condemnation and the isolation of Israel.

But Netanyahu and hard-right ministers in his government have persisted, urging the prime minister to go for broke. Within minutes of the strike on Doha, finance minister Bezalel Smotrich was on social media praising the attack, writing: “Terrorists have no immunity and will never have immunity from Israel’s long arm anywhere in the world.”

So how to accomplish “absolute” victory? For Israeli hardliners, this means levelling parts of Gaza City while taking out Hamas’s leadership – both to break up the organisation and to ensure that there is no more talk of ceasefire, only capitulation.

What does this mean for the normalisation of relations between Israel and the Gulf States?

There is no normalisation. There probably was none before this attack. The Netanyahu government has decided on a course in Gaza that involves the mass killing of at least 65,000 people, most of them civilians, to displace up to 90% of the population of 2.2 million and to threaten all of them with starvation.

Not even the most cynical Arab government could risk the domestic backlash of continuing with “normalisation” in those circumstances.

So the Netanyahu government is not losing any possibilities with the brazen bombing in a sovereign Arab state. It is trying to set the terms for the future, perhaps a distant one: we’ll come back to normalisation from the position of imposing our will on Gaza, even if you might not have liked it.

Israel said the US president gave the attack the ‘green light’. Where does this leave Washington?

It leaves the Trump administration where it has always been: supporting Israeli actions that have led to the mass killing of people in Gaza. The US president was reportedly briefed on Israel’s intention to strike at Doha – a US ally – before the attack went ahead. Trump’s ally, the Republican speaker of the House of Representatives, Mike Johnson, is now talking about Israel having to contend with “enemies encamped around them and they’re trying to bring peace”.

Yes, Trump has pursued the chimera of a deal which would win him the Nobel peace prize. But when Israel effectively ended the deal at the start of March, the US president provided not only an excuse – Hamas was to blame – but also a rationale. Palestinians could be moved out of Gaza to allow Trump to create his “riviera of the Middle East” – a detailed prospectus for which was obtained and published last week by the Washington Post.

Each time the Netanyahu government has walked away from a peace proposal, Trump and his senior officials have provided them with cover. So, as the Israelis approach their long-term occupation, we are at the same point as we were in March – Trump officials talking about the removal of the civilians.

I doubt this attack will shake that position.

What does this tell us about negotiations over Gaza?

There are no negotiations over Gaza. There is a demand by the Netanyahu government for Hamas’s capitulation. If it does not capitulate, Hamas will be destroyed – no matter how many civilians pay the cost.

This is not just about the approach to Gaza. The Netanyahu government has now decided that its regional objectives will be pursued through “decapitation”.

It has not only tried to destroy the leadership of Hamas, with attacks in Gaza, Iran, Lebanon, Syria and now Qatar. It has killed most of the leadership of Lebanon’s Hezbollah. It laid waste to Iran’s political and military commanders in its 12-day war in June. On August 24, it assassinated Ahmed Ghaleb Nasser al-Rahawi, recognised by the Houthi people as their prime minister, and other senior Houthi officials in Yemen.

The deadly message of the Netanyahu government is clear: no one whom they consider an “enemy” is immune, wherever they are. Negotiations are peripheral, perhaps even irrelevant, to that commitment.

Scott Lucas does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Middle East leaders condemn Israel’s attack on Qatar as Netanyahu ends all talk of Gaza ceasefire – expert Q&A – https://theconversation.com/middle-east-leaders-condemn-israels-attack-on-qatar-as-netanyahu-ends-all-talk-of-gaza-ceasefire-expert-qanda-264945

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Scott Lucas, Professor of International Politics, Clinton Institute, University College Dublin

Israel launched an unprecedented airstrike on the Qatari capital of Doha on September 9, the first time it has directly attacked a Gulf state. The “precision strike” as Israel has called it, targeted a building in which Hamas officials were reportedly discussing a peace proposal brokered by the US.

Al Jazeera has reported that it had been told by a Hamas official that none of its leadership had been killed in the strike.

The Qatari government said it “strongly condemns the cowardly Israeli attack”, which it described as “a blatant violation of international law”. Other Middle East states, including Saudi Arabia, condemned the Israeli strike, as did the secretary general of the United Nations, Antonio Guterres, who said it was a “flagrant violation” of Qatari sovereignty.

It has also been reported that Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, informed the White House of Israel’s intentions before carrying out the attack. An Israeli official told local media that the US president, Donald Trump, had given the strike the “green light” but this has not been confirmed.

A statement released by Netanyahu’s office appeared to suggest that the strike had been at least party in retaliation for the killing of six Israeli civilians at a bus stop in Jerusalem, for which Hamas has claimed responsibility.

Scott Lucas, a Middle East expert at Dublin City University spoke to Jonathan Este, The Conversation’s senior international affairs editor shortly after the attack. He addressed several key questions.

What’s the thinking behind Israel’s strike on Qatar? Why now?

The Israeli government is going for the kill with Hamas. Having staked his political and legal future on the “absolute destruction” of the organisation, Netanyahu cannot agree to a settlement in which it retains any place in Gaza, let alone power.

So he and some of his ministers have not engaged in negotiations for a ceasefire since the start of March. At that point, they pulled out of any discussion of a phase two, resumed the military assault of Gaza, and cut off humanitarian aid. They have only turned it back on in dribs and drabs. But aid distribution has been sporadic and all too often deadly for the people who queue for food. And it’s not enough to prevent widespread famine in Gaza.

But the problem for Netanyahu and his allies is that others continued to push for a resolution: both inside Israel, where citizens are beginning to get sick of endless war and among Israel’s international allies, who are sickened by the images emerging from the Strip and under pressure from their own populations.

On more than one occasion, Hamas agreed – or at least came close to agreeing – terms put to them by mediators. In August, the Palestinian organisation did so again. At that point the Israel government had a choice: accept the settlement, get the hostages back and pull back on the plan for a long-term occupation of Gaza. Or try and push aside the settlement while blaming Hamas and expand military operations to take over Gaza City.

Netanyahu’s commanders, including the head of the Israel Defense Forces, Eyal Zamir, warned against the assault on Gaza City. Other advisers noted the risk of further international condemnation and isolation of Israel.

But Netanyahu and hard-right ministers in his government have persisted and urged the prime minister to go for broke. Within minutes of the strike on Doha, finance minister Bezalel Smotrich was on social media, praising the attack, writing: “Terrorists have no immunity and will never have immunity from Israel’s long arm anywhere in the world.”

So how to accomplish “absolute” victory? For Israeli hardliners it means levelling parts of Gaza City, while taking out Hamas’s leadership – both to break up the organisation and to ensure that there is no more talk of ceasefire, only capitulation.

What does this mean for the normalisation of relations between Israel and the Gulf States?

There is no normalisation. There probably was none before this attack. The Netanyahu government has decided on a course in Gaza that involves the mass killing of at least 65,000 people, most of them civilians, to displace up to 90% of the population of 2.2 million and to threaten all of them with starvation.

Not even the most cynical Arab government could risk the domestic backlash of continuing with “normalisation” in those circumstances.

So the Netanyahu government is not losing any possibilities with the brazen bombing in a sovereign Arab state. It is trying to set the terms for the future, perhaps a distant one: we’ll come back to normalisation from the position of imposing our will on Gaza, even if you might not have liked it.

Israel has said the US president gave the attack the ‘green light’. Where does this leave Washington?

It leaves the Trump administration where it has always been: supporting Israeli actions that has led to the mass killing of people in Gaza. The US president was reportedly briefed on Israel’s intention to strike at Doha – a US ally – before the attack went ahead. Trump’s ally, the Republican speaker of the House of Representatives, Mike Johnson, is now talking about Israel having to contend with “enemies encamped around them and they’re trying to bring peace”.

Yes, Donald Trump has pursued the chimera of a deal that would win him the Nobel Peace Prize. But when Israel effectively ended the deal at the start of March, Trump provided not only an excuse – Hamas is to blame – but also a rationale. Palestinians could be moved out of Gaza to allow Trump to create his “riviera of the Middle East” – a detailed prospectus for which was obtained and published last week by the Washington Post.

Each time that the Netanyahu government has walked away from a peace proposal, Trump and his senior officials have provided them with cover. So, as the Israelis approach their long-term occupation, we are at the same point as we were in March – Trump officials talking about the removal of the civilians.

I doubt that this attack will shake this position.

What does this tell us about negotiations over Gaza?

There are no negotiations over Gaza. There is a demand by the Netanyahu government for Hamas’s capitulation. If it does not capitulate, Hamas will be destroyed – no matter how many civilians pay the cost.

This is not just about the approach to Gaza. The Netanyahu government has now decided that its regional objectives will be pursued through “decapitation”.

It has not only tried to destroy the leadership of Hamas, with attacks in Gaza, Iran, Lebanon, Syria and now Qatar. It has killed most of the leadership of Lebanon’s Hezbollah. It laid waste to Iran’s political and military commanders in its 12-day war in June. On August 24, it assassinated Ahmed Ghaleb Nasser al-Rahawi, recognised by the Houthi people as their prime minister, and other senior Houthi officials in Yemen.

The deadly message of the Netanyahu government is clear: no one whom they consider an “enemy” is immune, wherever they are. Negotiations are peripheral, perhaps even irrelevant, to that commitment.

Scott Lucas does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Middle East holds its breath after Israel launches attack on Qatar: expert Q&A – https://theconversation.com/middle-east-holds-its-breath-after-israel-launches-attack-on-qatar-expert-qanda-264945

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Shaban Sulejman, PhD Candidate, Faculty of Science, The University of Melbourne

Plastic pollution is everywhere: in rivers and oceans, in the air and the mountains, even in our blood and vital organs. Most of the public attention has focused on the dangers of microplastics. These are fragments smaller than 5 millimetres.

But an even smaller class of fragments, nanoplastics, may pose a greater risk to our health and our environment. With diameters of less than a micrometre (one millionth of a metre), these tiny particles can cross important biological barriers and accumulate in the body. Because they’re so tiny, detecting nanoplastics is extremely difficult and expensive. As a result, determining the extent of their impact has been largely guesswork.

A cheap, easy and reliable way to detect nanoplastics is the first step in addressing their potential impact. In our new study published today in Nature Photonics, my colleagues and I describe a simple, low-cost method that detects, sizes and counts nanoplastics using nothing more than a standard microscope and a basic camera.

Breaking down into ever-smaller pieces

What makes plastics useful is their durability. But that is also what makes them problematic.

Plastics do not disappear. They are not broken down by the ecosystem in the same way as other materials. Instead, sunlight, heat and mechanical stress slowly split the plastic apart into ever-smaller fragments. Larger pieces become microplastics, which eventually become nanoplastics once they are less than a micrometre in size.

At such a small size, they can pass through important biological safeguards such as the blood–brain and placental barriers. They can then start to accumulate in our organs, including our lungs, liver and kidneys. They can also carry other contaminants into our bodies, such as pollutants and heavy metals.

Yet, despite these dangers, real-world data on nanoplastics are scarce.

Today, detecting and sizing particles below a micrometre often relies on complex separation and filtration methods followed by expensive processes, such as electron microscopy. These methods are powerful. But they’re also slow, costly and usually confined to advanced laboratories.

Other optical laboratory techniques, such as dynamic light scattering, work well in “clean” samples. However, they struggle in “messy” real-world samples such as lake water because they cannot easily distinguish plastic from organic material.

An optical sieve

To address these issues, our international team from the University of Melbourne and the University of Stuttgart in Germany set out to make detection simple, affordable and portable.

The result of our collaborative work is an optical sieve: an array of tiny cavities with different diameters etched into the surface of a type of semiconductor material called gallium arsenide. Essentially, a collection of tiny holes, invisible to the naked eye, in a flat piece of a suitable material.

Physicists call these cavities “Mie voids”. Depending on their size, they produce a distinct colour when light is shone on them. When a drop of liquid containing nanoplastics flows over the surface, the nanoparticles will tend to settle into cavities that closely match their size.

Then, with a chemical rinse, mismatched particles wash away while matched ones stay tightly held in place by electromagnetic forces.

That part is simple. But it wouldn’t make the process cheaper or more portable if it still required a large, expensive electron microscope to visualise the trapped particles.

But here’s the key: when a particle is captured inside a cavity, it changes the colour of that cavity. This means filled cavities are easily distinguishable from empty ones under a standard light microscope with an ordinary colour camera, often shifting from bluish to reddish hues.

By observing colour changes, we can see which cavities contain particles. Because only certain-sized particles fill certain-sized cavities, we can also infer their size.

In our experiments, using nothing but our optical sieve, a standard light microscope and a simple camera, we were able to detect individual plastic spheres down to about 200 nanometres in diameter – right in the size range that matters for nanoplastics.

Putting it to the test

To validate the concept, we first used polystyrene beads in a clean solution. We observed clear colour changes for particles with diameters between 200 nanometres and a micrometre.

We then tested a more “real-world” sample, combining unfiltered lake water (including biological material) with clean sand and plastic beads of known sizes: 350 nanometres, 550 nanometres and a micrometre.

After depositing this mixture onto the optical sieve and then giving it a rinse, we were able to see distinct bands of filled cavities with diameters that matched the beads we had added.

This confirmed the optical sieve had successfully detected the nanoplastic particles in the lake water sample and determined their sizes. Importantly, this did not require us to separate the plastics from the biological matter first.

What’s next?

Our new method is a first step in developing a cheap, easy and portable method for routine monitoring of waterways, beaches and wastewater, and for screening biological samples where pre-cleaning is difficult.

From here, we are exploring paths to a portable, commercially available testing device that can be adapted for a range of real-world samples, especially those like blood and tissue that will be crucial in monitoring the impact of nanoplastics on our health.

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The author would like to acknowledge the contribution of Lukas Wesemann to this article.

Shaban Sulejman receives funding from The University of Melbourne under a Ernst & Grace Matthaei Scholarship, the Australian Government Research Training Program Scholarship, and the Australian Research Council.

– ref. New type of ‘sieve’ detects the smallest pieces of plastic in the environment more easily than ever before – https://theconversation.com/new-type-of-sieve-detects-the-smallest-pieces-of-plastic-in-the-environment-more-easily-than-ever-before-264593

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Marguerite Johnson, Honorary Professor of Classics and Ancient History, School of Historical and Philosophical Inquiry, The University of Queensland

The Trojan War is a legend that sprang from a distant memory of a real Greek incursion into the Bronze Age city of Troy (in modern day Türkiye). This may have taken the form of annual piracy raids and/or encounters based on control of the Aegean Sea.

These real life encounters between Greeks and Trojans, led to the destruction of Troy circa 1150 BCE (likely though warfare and fire). Over hundreds of years, they were transformed into oral tales.

Collectively known as the Trojan War Cycle, these tales were later committed to writing. They were retold and readapted over centuries in Greek and Roman antiquity, with writers and artists changing and adding to the basic plotline to suit their own purposes. Adaptations of the hundreds of stories that make up this cycle continue today, particularly in theatre.

The immediate cause of the legendary war, as storytellers have told it, was the abduction of King Menelaus’s wife Helen, Queen of Sparta, by the Trojan prince, Paris. (In the shame-based culture of Bronze Age Greek society, this act was deeply humiliating for a man, especially a king).

In response to the kidnapping, Menelaus’s brother, Agamemnon, King of Mycenae (a city in the Peloponnese), led a military campaign against Troy. The city of around 10,000 people was surrounded and held under siege for ten years.

The war ended with the ingenious deception of the Trojan Horse. This huge wooden beast was offered to the Trojans as a so-called gift from the Greeks, but secretly contained Greek soldiers. Once inside the city, they crept out, threw open the gates to their fellow Greeks and so began the city’s final days.

Is any of it true?

Most of us may find it strangely romantic to believe in a heroic quest for a stolen queen rather than accept that the city of Troy ultimately fell as a result of strategic and economic assaults at the hands of the Mycenaean Greeks.

Indeed, the actual city of Troy has been located, complete with two archaeological sublayers. Experts have found evidence that attests to the city’s destruction by siege. Similarly, the site of Bronze Age Mycenae, a palatial structure, as old as the particular sublayers of Troy, has been identified at the place of origin for the Greek expeditions.

But such physical sites cannot prove the historical existence of Helen, Achilles and the other superstars of the storytellers.

Such heroes and heroines most likely came into being as the stories developed, although some characters may have been partially based on historic leaders, their wives and families.

The Iliad’s account

The Iliad (c. eighth century BCE) is the earliest example of how the shadowy, inglorious invasion of a prosperous city was transformed into a monumental national epic. Other stories tell aspects of the myth, for example Euripides’ tragedy, The Trojan Women (415 BCE).

Attributed to the poet Homer, the Iliad chronicles some weeks in the last year of the war. Composed in dactylic hexameter and divided into 24 “books” (chapters, if you will) that culminate in 15,693 lines of poetry, it is the definitive masterpiece of war literature.

Moving from the Greek encampment along the shores of northwest Asia Minor (modern-day Türkiye) to the fortified citadel of Troy (the modern-day city of Hisarlik) at the mouth of the Dardarnelles, the Iliad evokes the lives of both Greek and Trojan warriors as well as those of civilians.

As a war narrative, its battle scenes are visceral and drenched in blood, evoking both courage and cowardice, and certainly not for the squeamish. Yet it also captures the devastation war brings to children, wives, mothers, men too old to fight and hostages, along with soldiers.

The poem opens with an internal feud among the Greeks themselves, centring on the animosity between Agamemnon, and Achilles, leader of the Myrmidons (from modern-day Thessaly), who is also fighting for the Greeks.

At the heart of this bitter dispute are two hostages. Chryseis, daughter of the Trojan priest of Apollo, Chryses, has been taken by Agamemnon as a sex slave following a raid. Briseis was awarded to Achilles during a similar incursion.

The god Apollo sends a plague upon the Greeks as a result of Agamemnon’s refusal to return Chryseis to her father. Achilles – enraged and acting above his station – publicly confronts Agamemnon, demanding he return the young woman. Humiliated, Agamemnon eventually agrees but, in order to regain his preeminent status, takes Briseis from Achilles.

This scene evokes what modern people might recognise as combat fatigue. There is tension around decision-making, confused thinking, mistrust and anger. This personal feud depicts both men, not only as larger than life warriors, but also as complex human beings enduring almost unendurable conditions.

While such a situation may seem irrelevant in an epic that tells such a monumental tale, explicating the horrors of war on such a grand and devastating scale, the reality is quite the opposite.

Firstly, it is a reminder that war can be banal. Indeed, the “mini war” over two sex slaves seized during raiding parties reenacts the overarching “super war” at Troy, reinforcing the vanity of the human condition as well as the recklessness and even malignancy propelling some conflicts.

Interestingly, the story of the Trojan Horse, the death of Achilles, and the many other instalments that constitute the Trojan War Cycle, do not interest the poet who compiled the Iliad. These are tales told elsewhere, in the fragments that remain of other epics, in the songs of lyric poets and in some of the extant tragedies of playwrights, right up to the literature and art of Late Antiquity.

Rather, Homer is interested in the stories of the humans trapped in the crossfire. For example, in Book Six of the Iliad, Hector, a Trojan prince and Troy’s greatest warrior, farewells his wife, Andromache, and his infant son, Astyanax, as he prepares to return to the battlefield. Andromache, who senses her husband is soon to die, says:

[…] for me it would be far better
to sink into the earth when I have lost you, for there is no other
consolation for me after you have gone to your destiny –
only grief […]

The Trojan Women

Andromache’s story and those of other women after the fall of Troy are of particular interest to Greek tragic playwrights of the fifth century BCE. The most powerful of the extant plays on this theme is Euripides’ The Trojan Women. The play consists of the voices of the four women who mourn the death of Hector at the hands of Achilles in the last book of the Iliad: Cassandra, the Trojan princess; Hecuba, the Queen of Troy; Andromache; and, finally, Helen herself.

To emphasise the suffering in war, the Chorus (the traditional collective narrators in Greek plays) is comprised of captive Trojan women, representing the nameless and forgotten human collateral.

This tragedy has been retold and re-imagined since its original production, including a heralded Australian adaptation by Barrie Kosky and Tom Wright in 2008.

Euripides details the fate of Cassandra, the princess also taken as a sex slave by Agamemnon; Hecuba, the wife of Priam, the last king of Troy, who is enslaved to Odysseus, King of Ithaca, and Andromache, indentured to Neoptolomus, son of Achilles. As for Helen, she is vilified as having caused the Trojan War, although in this play she, too, is a victim of war as she must beg her husband for her life.

The horror and inhumanity expressed in The Trojan Women culminates in the Greek execution of Astyanax, the baby son of Andromache and Hector. The tiny body is prepared for burial by his grandmother, Hecuba, while Andromache wails and Troy burns.

The endless interpretations of the siege of Troy in both literature and art can show courage and the triumph of the human spirit in the face of the worst of adversities. Yet others show that heroism is debatable and mutable, victory comes with loss of humanity, and women and children are always the victims.

Marguerite Johnson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. The legend of Troy explained – https://theconversation.com/the-legend-of-troy-explained-263905

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Ian Langford, Executive Director, Security & Defence PLuS and Professor, UNSW Sydney

The Chinese military parade that had the world talking last week was more than just pageantry. It was a declaration that Chinese leader Xi Jinping sees himself in a race against time to secure his place in history.

For Xi, who has just turned 72, unification with Taiwan is not just a policy aim; it is the crown jewel that would elevate him above Mao Zedong and cement his reputation as the greatest leader in modern Chinese history.

The timing and staging of the parade underscored this urgency, a showcase of power before an audience of foreign leaders and cameras at a high-stakes anniversary event in Beijing.

Mao, the founder of the People’s Republic of China, unified the country under Communist rule, but left it poor and isolated.

Xi’s mission is to finish the job by formally ending the Chinese civil war that pitted the Communists against the Nationalists and annexing the island of Taiwan to lock in his place in the party pantheon.

But waiting is dangerous. Inside the Chinese Communist Party, loyalty is transactional and rivals constantly watch for weaknesses.

In 2012, for example, Bo Xilai, a rising star and once-close ally of Xi’s, suffered a dramatic and very public downfall. The scandal could easily have consumed Xi, but he turned it into an opportunity, using Bo’s downfall to cement his own rise.

That episode remains a cautionary tale in Beijing’s elite politics: power must never falter; momentum must never slip.

More than a decade later, Xi has removed or sidelined nearly every rival and manoeuvred himself into a third term. However, he still governs with the urgency of someone who knows how quickly fortunes can turn.

US catching up on hypersonic missiles

Abroad, the strategic equation is also changing.

For years, Beijing enjoyed a headstart in hypersonic weapons, anti-ship missiles and industrial production. China’s air and advanced missile defence systems have been designed to threaten US carrier strike groups and complicate allied operations across East and North Asia.

But Washington may soon close the gap. The Pentagon requested nearly US$7 billion (A$10.6 billion) in hypersonic missile program funding in the fiscal year 2024–25, while private firms are accelerating innovation in reusable missile testbeds and propulsion.

The US Navy is repurposing Zumwalt-class destroyers for its Conventional Prompt Strike hypersonic system, giving the navy its first maritime platform capable of hypersonic strike. Sea-based demonstrations of the new system are planned as soon as the program matures.

Every step narrows China’s military advantage.

US shipbuilding looking for revival, too

The industrial rivalry between China and the US is a similar story.

China currently dominates global commercial shipbuilding, a dual-use foundation that also supports naval expansion.

A recent analysis found one Chinese shipbuilder alone built more ships by tonnage in 2024 than the entire US industry has produced since the second world war. Foreign ship orders are underwriting this building capacity, which can rapidly pivot to naval platforms.

This edge has continued in 2025. Xi is counting on this industrial base to give China an edge in a future conflict over Taiwan.

However, US and allied investments in shipbuilding are starting to respond.

The Trump administration has set up a White House office dedicated to fixing US shipbuilding, while the Pentagon has requested US$47 billion (A$71 billion) for Navy ship construction in its annual budget.

Japan and South Korea, both major shipbuilders, have also added significant resources to their shipbuilding capacity in an acknowledgement of the changing power structures in East and North Asia. US politicians recently visited both countries to secure greater assistance in boosting US building capacity, too.

China is also getting older

More urgent still is the demographic clock. China’s population shrank by about two million in 2023, the second straight annual decline, as births fell to nine million, half the 2017 level.

The working-age cohort is shrinking, while the number of people over 60 years old is expected to rise to roughly a third of China’s population by the mid-2030s. This will be a major drag on growth and strain on social systems.

Demography is not destiny, but it compresses timelines for leaders who want to lock in strategic gains.

America’s competitive advantage

There is a final, often overlooked problem. The most efficient political-warfare system of the modern era is capitalism – the engine of competition that rewards adaptation and punishes failure.

The US still possesses a uniquely deep capacity for “creative destruction” – it constantly churns through firms and ideas that power long-term growth and reinvention.

That dynamism is messy, decentralised and often uncomfortable. However, it remains America’s strategic ace: it can retool industries, scale breakthrough technologies and absorb shocks faster than any centrally directed system.

China can imitate many things, but it cannot easily replicate that market-driven ecosystem of risk capital, failure tolerance and rapid reallocation.

All of this explains why Xi wants the world to believe China’s rise is unstoppable and unification with Taiwan is inevitable.

But inevitability is fragile. Beijing’s “win without fighting” approach, which involves grey-zone coercion, economic leverage and an incremental, “salami-slicing” approach to territorial claims in the South China Sea, has worked because it relies on patience and subtlety. The more Xi accelerates, the more he risks miscalculation.

A forced attempt to seize Taiwan would be the most dangerous gamble of his rule. If the People’s Liberation Army falters, the consequences would be severe: strategic humiliation abroad, political turbulence at home, and a punctured narrative of inevitability that sustains party authority.

Sun Tzu’s greatest victory is the one won without fighting, but only when time favours patience. For Xi Jinping, time is not on his side.

Ian Langford does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Xi Jinping is in a race against time to secure his legacy in China – https://theconversation.com/xi-jinping-is-in-a-race-against-time-to-secure-his-legacy-in-china-264691

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By John Joseph Chin, Assistant Teaching Professor of Strategy and Technology, Carnegie Mellon University

Former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro could soon be convicted as a failed coup plotter.

Brazil’s Supreme Court is expected to deliver a verdict by Sept. 12 over charges that the former president and key aides plotted to overturn Bolsonaro’s 2022 election defeat to Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva. Prosecutors allege that Bolsonaro and others discussed a scheme to assassinate Lula and incited a riot on Jan. 8, 2023, in hopes that Brazil’s military would intervene and return Bolsonaro to power.

Bolsonaro maintains his innocence. But if found guilty, he could face a lengthy prison sentence.

As political scientists who have documented the fate of hundreds of coup leaders in the book “Historical Dictionary of Modern Coups D’état,” we have collected a dataset of every coup attempt since the end of World War II. Bolsonaro could soon join the ranks of thousands of coup plotters who have been brought to justice.

But not all coup plotters are held accountable for their actions. And even when they are – it doesn’t necessarily mark the end of their political ambitions.

Coup and punishments

Plotting a coup is risky business. Some of those who attempt to seize or usurp power unconstitutionally are killed during their takeover bid, particularly when security forces loyal to the incumbent leader foil the attack. Christian Malanga, an exiled former army captain who led a violent attempt to seize power in the Democratic Republic of Congo, is one such example. He was killed in the ensuing shootout in May 2024.

But most leaders of failed coups survive.

And although they typically face punishment, the severity of consequences varies greatly; it often depends on whether the attempt is a self-coup, which is a power grab by an incumbent leader, or an attempt to oust a sitting government.

The most common fate of failed self-coup leaders in democracies is impeachment and removal from office, as occurred to Indonesia’s Abdurrahman Wahid in July 2001, Ecuador’s Lucio Gutiérrez in April 2005, Peru’s Pedro Castillo in December 2022, and South Korea’s Yoon Suk Yeol in April 2025.

Some coup plotters and their co-conspirators are charged in a court and, if convicted, sent to prison. Malanga’s American co-conspirators were ultimately sentenced to life in prison in April 2025.

A similar fate could befall Bolsonaro. A conviction in his case could mean 40 or more years in a Brazilian prison for the 70-year-old.

Still, it could be worse – failed coupists are often punished outside of independent courts, where the penalty is often more severe. Coup plotters have been summarily executed or sentenced to death by a military tribunal or a “people’s court.” The longtime Zairean dictator Mobutu Sese Seko executed over a dozen junior officers and civilians after his government uncovered an alleged coup plot in 1978.

One recent estimate suggests 40% of coup conspirators suffer relatively light punishment. Many coup backers are simply demoted or purged from the government without facing trial or execution. An especially popular move is to send coup plotters into exile to discourage their supporters from mobilizing against the regime. Former Haitian president Dumarsais Estimé was forced into exile after his self-coup attempt failed in May 1950; he died in the U.S. a few years later.

Punishment doesn’t always end threat

The problem facing governments is that failed putschists pose a lingering political threat. Ousted leaders often plot “counter-coups” to return to power. For example, former president of the Philippines Ferdinand Marcos, after being ousted in the 1986 People Power movement, masterminded coup plots from exile, though he never returned to power.

Some succeed, such as David Dacko, who returned from exile to grab power in the Central African Republic in 1979, but only with the help of French forces.

Even when convicted or exiled, coup plotters may be later freed. Some members of Brazil’s Congress have already introduced a bill that could grant Bolsonaro amnesty.

A few former failed coup leaders manage to come to power later. Ghana’s Jerry Rawlings led a failed coup in May 1979 but went on to seize power in subsequent coups in June 1979 and 1981; Hugo Chavez was convicted and jailed for leading a failed coup in 1992 but ended up being elected president in Venezuela in 1998.

The risk of coupists going unpunished

Only one failed self-coup leader, as designated in our dataset, has managed to retain office – from where he worked, critics say, to successfully dismantle democracy: El Salvador’s strongman, Nayib Bukele. In February 2020, amid a standoff with the political opposition, Bukele threatened to dissolve the legislature, bringing with him armed soldiers to occupy the legislative assembly.

Though Bukele temporarily backed down, he faced no legal or political backlash. His party won a legislative supermajority in 2021, and he won reelection in 2024. Bukele’s ruling party recently lifted presidential term limits, allowing him to potentially rule for life.

The good news about punishing unsuccessful coup plotters is that because they’ve failed, they do not have to be coaxed out of power. Thus, holding them accountable for their actions should deter future plotters from attempting the same thing. In contrast, for a leader who has done unsavory things while still in office – such as killing domestic dissidents or committing war crimes – the threat of punishment once they leave power can backfire by giving them a reason to fight to stay in power.

In the long term, failed coup leaders who escape punishment are more likely to make a political comeback.

When defeated at the polls, both Donald Trump and Bolsonaro tried to overturn the official results. Both attempted to alter vote totals after they had lost and block an election winner from being inaugurated.

But for Trump there was no censure or punishment, and he is now back in power, where he has weakened the checks and balances that we and other political scientists see as crucial for the preservation of liberty and growing economic prosperity.

In contrast, a conviction for Bolsonaro would make it unlikely he could follow the same path to political resurrection. Even if he’s eventually pardoned, a guilty verdict makes him ineligible to compete again for Brazil’s presidency.

Joe Wright received funding for research on coups from the National Science Foundation and the Minerva Research Initiative.

John Joseph Chin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Brazil’s Bolsonaro may soon join ranks of failed coup plotters held to account − hampering the chance of any political comeback – https://theconversation.com/brazils-bolsonaro-may-soon-join-ranks-of-failed-coup-plotters-held-to-account-hampering-the-chance-of-any-political-comeback-264565

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Sebastian Maslow, Associate Professor, International Relations, Contemporary Japanese Politics & Society, University of Tokyo

Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba has bowed to weeks of pressure from within his party and announced his resignation, less than a year after taking office.

His departure plunges Japan back into political uncertainty, reviving fears of a return to the revolving-door prime ministers who dominated the 1990s and late 2000s, before Shinzo Abe restored stability in 2012.

Whoever succeeds him must not only steady the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), but also restore public trust in a political system battered by scandals, factional infighting and rising voter scepticism about one-party dominance.

Why is Ishiba leaving?

Ishiba took office only last September, after Fumio Kishida stepped down amid a string of scandals.

He inherited a deeply troubled party. Kishida was forced out in 2024 after revelations of extensive ties between the LDP and the Unification Church. The church had long been controversial in Japan, but became even more so after Abe’s assassination in 2022 by a man who held a grudge against it. The church’s ties to the LDP were revealed shortly thereafter.

A slush-fund scandal further eroded public trust in the party. Ishiba promised reform and stricter accountability — but that stance angered many senior figures, especially those implicated in the scandals he sought to confront.

The LDP lost its lower-house majority soon after his election, followed by further setbacks, including a defeat in the July upper-house poll. Calls for Ishiba to quit grew louder, with party heavyweights warning of a split in the conservative base if he clung to power. Over the weekend, he finally surrendered.

Ishiba justified the timing by pointing to the risk of a political vacuum during ongoing trade talks with the United States. With an agreement on tariff reductions concluded last week, he yielded to critics without resorting to the traditional prime ministerial weapon of dissolving parliament to silence his rivals.

The decision may appear puzzling. Recent polls showed Ishiba’s popularity edging upward, suggesting ordinary voters were warming to him.

But his downfall underlines how much sway the LDP’s old guard still holds behind the scenes, prioritising internal discipline over electoral momentum.

Koizumi vs Takaichi

The leadership race is already underway, with a vote expected in early October. Two names stand out.

On one side is Shinjiro Koizumi, 44, son of former prime minister Junichiro Koizumi. Representing the party’s more liberal wing, he has previously expressed support for same-sex marriage and allowing married couples to use separate surnames – positions that set him apart in the LDP.

As agriculture minister in Ishiba’s government, he won recognition for tackling rising rice prices and pushing reform in a sector long tied to LDP patronage politics.

Charismatic and popular with voters, Koizumi has cultivated ties with the opposition Japan Restoration Party. This support could prove crucial in the LDP forging a new coalition or shoring up its minority government with its coalition partner, Komeito, which would still need opposition backing to pass legislation.

If chosen, he would become Japan’s youngest-ever prime minister.

On the other side stands Sanae Takaichi, a staunch conservative who finished runner-up in last year’s leadership race.

A self-styled heir to Abe’s legacy, she opposes same-sex marriage and dual surnames, favours constitutional revision to clarify to the role of the country’s Self-Defense Forces, and regularly stresses the need to strengthen Japan’s military posture.

She has likened herself to former UK prime minister Margaret Thatcher, calling for bold fiscal spending and monetary easing to drive growth.

If elected, she would become Japan’s first female prime minister, though her hardline positions could strain ties with coalition partner Komeito.

A TBS poll this week puts Koizumi and Takaichi neck-and-neck, each at 19.3%, while a Nikkei survey from August 31 gives Takaichi a slim lead at 23%, just one point ahead of Koizumi.

Other contenders may emerge, including Chief Cabinet Secretary Yoshimasa Hayashi. Much will depend on the LDP’s choice of election format: whether rank-and-file members get a say, or only lawmakers in parliament.

Either way, candidates need the support of 20 members of the Diet (Japan’s parliament) to enter the race.

High stakes for Japan’s ruling party

The stakes could not be higher. With Ishiba’s departure, hopes of reforming the LDP have faded.

If the new leader fails to regain public confidence, the party risks falling victim to its own long dominance. To maintain power, it has been locked into defending the status quo, while new right-wing populist challengers, such as Sanseito, gain ground with anti-foreigner rhetoric.

With the next elections not due until 2028, Japan is entering another uncertain political chapter. Whether the LDP emerges strengthened or weakened will depend not just on who replaces Ishiba, but on whether the party can convince a sceptical public it is still capable of renewal.

Sebastian Maslow does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Why did Japanese Prime Minister Shigeru Ishiba resign? And who might replace him? – https://theconversation.com/why-did-japanese-prime-minister-shigeru-ishiba-resign-and-who-might-replace-him-264768