Category: The Conversation – Global Perspectives

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Kristian Coates Ulrichsen, Fellow for the Middle East at the Baker Institute, Rice University

Years of simmering tensions between Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates exploded into the open on Dec. 30, 2025.

That’s when Saudi officials accused the UAE of backing separatist groups in Yemen and carried out an airstrike in the southern Yemeni city of Mukalla targeting an alleged shipment of weapons from the UAE to the Southern Transitional Council, one such separatist group.

Amid a rapidly rising war of words, Saudi-backed forces in Yemen recaptured two provinces that the STC had previously taken. Continued Saudi pressure resulted in the expulsion of the STC leader, Aidarous al-Zubaidi, from the Presidential Leadership Council – an eight-strong executive body that represents Yemen’s internationally recognized government. On Jan. 7, 2026, al-Zubaidi fled Yemen. That, plus the reported disbanding of the STC, brings a dramatic end to years of UAE influence in the south and dramatically fractures the coalition against the Houthis, a rebel group that currently controls most of northern and central Yemen.

For observers of Yemen it should come as little surprise that the country is now splitting apart along the two-country axis that has defined so much of the geopolitics of the Middle East since the 2011 Arab uprisings. It continues a long-term trend away from initial alignment between Saudi Arabia and the UAE over Yemen that risks not only reigniting conflict there but exposing a deeper power struggle that could fracture the entire region.

An uneasy alignment

The Saudis and Emiratis entered the Yemen conflict in alignment, forming an Arab coalition in March 2015 to push back the advance of Houthi rebels and forces loyal to the government of ousted president Ali Abdullah Saleh.

Almost from the start, though, Riyadh and Abu Dhabi pursued different aims and objectives on the ground.

The Saudis viewed the conflict as a direct cross-border threat from the Houthis – a rebel force backed, in their view, by Iran. For the Emiratis, meanwhile, the priority was acting assertively against Islamist groups in southern Yemen.

Initially, decision-making at the highest level of the intervening coalition in Yemen reflected a close alignment between Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman in Riyadh and then-Crown Prince Mohammed bin Zayed in Abu Dhabi.

The two were seen as acting in lockstep in the mid-2010s across the region, including the blockade of Qatar in 2017 over the smaller Gulf state’s alleged links to terrorist groups.

From 2015 to 2018, UAE’s Mohammed bin Zayed played a key role in facilitating Mohammed bin Salman’s rapid rise to authority in Saudi Arabia.

A mentor-mentee relationship was seen by many analysts of Gulf affairs to have developed between the two as Mohammed bin Zayed, 24 years the senior, became almost a father figure to the hitherto little-known Mohammed bin Salman while singing his praises in Western capitals, including Washington, D.C.

The coalition frays

But the cozy relationship between Saudi Arabia and the UAE didn’t last.

A range of factors contributed to the cooling between the two states. These included the abrupt Emirati decision in July 2019 to withdraw its troops from the front line in the anti-Houthi struggle and refocus UAE support for local groups in southern Yemen, including the STC, which had been established in 2017 with visible Emirati backing.

Saudi officials expressed surprise at the UAE decision. From the Saudi perspective, UAE objectives in Yemen had been fulfilled after the recapture of critical southern cities, including Aden and Mukalla in 2015 and 2016.

In their reading, it was the Saudis, not the Emiratis, who were bogged down in an unwinnable campaign against the Houthis. The subsequent fraying of a power-sharing agreement between the STC and Saudi-backed government forces caused additional friction between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi.

Elsewhere, signs emerged that the Emirati leadership did not share the Saudi openness to healing the rift with Qatar – even as U.S. officials signaled frustration at a stalemate that damaged U.S. partnerships in the region and gave succor to adversaries such as Iran.

Clashing visions

As the potency of the turbulent post-Arab Spring decade ebbed, the glue that had brought Riyadh and Abu Dhabi closer together in their desire to reassert control over the post-2011 regional order weakened.

On two occasions, in November 2020 and July 2021, Emirati and Saudi officials sparred at OPEC+ meetings over preferred oil price and output levels, and in the summer of 2021 the Saudis tightened rules on what passed for tariff-free status in a move that appeared to target goods that passed through the many economic free zones in the UAE.

Also that year, Saudi officials decreed that companies wishing to do business with government agencies in the kingdom would have to locate their regional headquarters in the kingdom by 2024 – a move seemingly aimed at Dubai’s long-standing leadership in regional business circles. The launch of a new Saudi airline, Riyadh Air, and the emphasis placed in Riyadh on developing travel, tourism, entertainment and hospitality as part of its Vision 2030 plan also took aim at sectors in which the UAE has long enjoyed first-mover advantage.

However, the real significance of the Yemen bust-up is that it demonstrates the degree of divergence in Saudi and Emirati visions of regional order. The Saudi preference is for “de-risking” – that is, making the region appear safe and stable for would-be outside investors.

This fits the Saudi’s resolute focus on economic development and delivering Vision 2030.

But it clashes directly with the perceived Emirati tolerance for risk-taking in regional affairs. Abu Dhabi is widely believed to have backed armed nonstate groups in Libya and supports Sudan’s rebel Rapid Support Forces, in addition to its known links with the STC in Yemen.

Libya and Sudan were less central to Saudi security concerns, but the STC’s capture of the southeastern Yemeni provinces of Hadramout and Mahra in early December crossed Saudi red lines.

The fact that the STC advance began on Dec. 3, the day Gulf Cooperation Council leaders met for their annual summit, was also seen by Saudi policymakers as a major provocation. They assumed that the offensive must have received a green light from Abu Dhabi.

An off-ramp to tensions?

While ties are unlikely to rupture between Saudis and Emiratis in the same way they both did with Qatar in 2017, the current trajectory between these two key U.S. allies in the Middle East is not good.

There is no desire within the Gulf Cooperation Council for another such rift, and the Emirati decision to withdraw its remaining forces from Yemen and leave the STC to its own fate suggests there are still off-ramps to defuse tensions.

Yet the headstrong leaders in Riyadh and Abu Dhabi are all but certain to continue on a divergent pathway, I believe. And this could manifest in multiple ways, including growing economic competition in areas such as AI investments, where the Saudis, once again, are playing catch-up to the UAE. These are areas of competition that could only intensify as both Gulf states try to gain an advantage with a transactional Trump administration.

Given the challenges that the wide region faces – not only in Yemen but also in war-torn Gaza and Lebanon, a Syria emerging from civil conflict, and now, potentially, an Iran embroiled in protest – a fractured vision of regional order between the Gulf’s two biggest players does not bode well for the future.

Kristian Coates Ulrichsen 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. Saudi-UAE bust-up over Yemen was only a matter of time − and reflects wider rift over vision for the region – https://theconversation.com/saudi-uae-bust-up-over-yemen-was-only-a-matter-of-time-and-reflects-wider-rift-over-vision-for-the-region-273083

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Peter Harris, Associate Professor of Political Science, Colorado State University

Asked in December 2025 what the biggest sticking point was in negotiating peace in Ukraine, U.S. President Donald Trump got straight to the point: land. “Some of that land has been taken. Some of that land is maybe up for grabs,” he added.

From the very beginning of the full-scale war, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy has ruled out ceding territory to the invading Russians.

Yet, when the war in Ukraine finally grinds to a halt, it seems likely that Russia will, indeed, control vast portions of Ukrainian land in the south and the east – about 20% of Ukraine’s pre-2014 landmass, if today’s line of actual control is any guide.

Ukrainians have spent years trying to eject Russian forces from occupied areas in the Luhansk, Donetsk, Zaporizhzhia and Kherson administrative regions. Captured and fortified by Russia in 2014, Crimea has been mostly out of reach. But despite Kyiv’s best efforts, Russia is now poised to seize even more Ukrainian territory if the war does not end soon.

The pressure on Zelenskyy to accept some sort of territorial loss only increases with each new peace plan presented – all of which include some degree of map redrawing in Russia’s favor. And although a majority of the Ukrainian public is against the idea of exchanging land for peace, pragmatists in the West, and even some within Ukraine, accept that this will almost certainly be part of any peace deal.

But then what? If Ukraine accepts the de facto loss of its eastern oblasts as the price of peace, should this be understood by Ukrainians as a permanent or a temporary concession? If the latter, what measures – if any – exist for Ukraine to eventually restore its territorial integrity?

As an international security expert, I would argue that it’s essential that Ukrainians and their international backers have clear-eyed answers to these questions now, before a peace agreement is put in place.

Land lost forever?

History can provide a useful, if imperfect, guide to what happens when states are forced to cede territory to invaders.

Past precedent suggests Ukraine must be prepared for the worst: Occupied territories, once lost, often remain so indefinitely. This is what happened when the Soviet Union conquered the province of Karelia from Finland following the Winter War in 1939-1940. Finland tried to reclaim Karelia from Moscow via military means in the Continuation War of 1941-1944. But Finnish forces were ultimately beaten back.

In the aftermath, Moscow ordered the mass expulsion of ethnic Finns and implemented a program of political and cultural assimilation. Today, ethnic Russians make up more than 80% of Karelia’s population.

Support for reabsorbing Karelia into Finland is low. When surveyed about the idea 20 years ago, most Finns balked at the cost of integrating poor, Russian-speaking communities into their thriving nation-state.

The same could happen to the occupied territories in eastern Ukraine. Over time, Russian-controlled areas might become “Russified” to the point of no longer being recognizably Ukrainian. In Crimea since 2014, for example, Russia is thought to have moved more than 200,000 Russian citizens into the territory, in addition to expelling ethnic Ukrainians.

Even if they are not forcibly expelled, civilians in the occupied areas who are loyal to Kyiv might choose to leave, and already millions have. But doing so means abandoning property to ethnic Russians – and once property is ceded, it makes the chances of a permanent return that much harder. Ukrainians who remain will face almost certain repression.

As occupation wears on, the social and economic differences between the ceded territories and the free areas of Ukraine will likely become ever starker. And this will be especially true if Ukraine joins the European Union – something that Kyiv has long coveted and could be a sweetener to any peace deal involving land loss.

With fewer pro-European Ukrainians living there and a wider cultural divide, the prospect of reclaiming the Russian-controlled oblasts could become markedly less attractive to Ukrainians than it appears today.

Diplomacy and war: Dead ends

Still, Ukrainians might hope that they can avoid this outcome by moving swiftly to undo the occupation before it becomes irreversible. In theory, they could accomplish this one of two ways: through deal-making or through fighting. But in practice, neither is likely to work.

Examples of a negotiated, voluntary return of land are few and far between. In 1979, Egypt managed to negotiate the return of its Sinai Peninsula, which Israel had captured during the Six-Day War in 1967. Although some in Israel wanted to keep hold of the Sinai for security reasons, Israeli leaders instead decided to swap the territory in exchange for a durable peace with Egypt, a leading Arab nation, in the hope that others would follow.

The problem for Ukraine is that Kyiv has very little to offer Russia in exchange for its lost territories. If and when the present war ends, it will likely be on terms favorable to Moscow, which is why territorial concessions are on the table to begin with.

If Ukraine cannot negotiate the return of the occupied territories as part of a peace arrangement, it probably means that it will not be able to negotiate their return in the post-peace phase, either.

What about the potential to regain the occupied territories by force? Finland tried that in Karelia and failed. But other countries have been more fortunate: France regained Alsace-Lorraine from Germany after World War I, for example. But it was a reversal that took nearly 50 years to bring about – Germany had annexed the territory in the Franco-Prussian War of 1871.

Given the massive disparity in size, population and troop numbers between Russia and Ukraine, it is highly unlikely that Ukraine could reclaim the territories through war – not least of all because its international backers would very likely refuse to support Kyiv in a war of choice against nuclear-armed Russia. The task would be made harder still should Russia succeed in getting some form of Ukrainian disarmament, or a downsizing of its military, into any peace deal.

A black swan event

There is only one other set of circumstances under which territorial conquests tend to be undone in world politics: When the international system is convulsed by a major, system-level change or crisis. This might include a regional or world war, or the implosion of a great power – in this case, Russia.

This is how Czechoslovakia reclaimed the Sudetenland from Germany in 1945, China restored its control over Manchuria from Japan at the end of World War II, and the Baltic states regained their independence from the Soviet Union in 1990-1991 – not because they fought and won a narrow war of reconquest, but because their occupiers collapsed under the pressure of an external or internal crisis.

Could Russia collapse from within in the event of the death or ouster of Putin, an economic catastrophe, or some other critical development in the decades to come?

It is impossible to predict. But in the final analysis, should Ukraine be forced to accept land loss as part of any peace deal, it may require a seismic event in Russia for the territorial changes to be reversed.

Peter Harris is a Non-Resident Fellow with Defense Priorities.

– ref. Ukraine is under pressure to trade land for peace − if it does, history shows it might not ever get it back – https://theconversation.com/ukraine-is-under-pressure-to-trade-land-for-peace-if-it-does-history-shows-it-might-not-ever-get-it-back-271609

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Penny Bailey, Lecturer in Japanese Studies, The University of Queensland

On January 10 1926, Yanagi Sōetsu and the potters Hamada Shōji and Kawai Kanjirō sat talking excitedly late into the night at a temple on Mt Kōya, in Japan’s Wakayama Prefecture.

They were debating how best to honour the beauty of simple, everyday Japanese crafts. Out of that conversation came a new word, mingei, and a plan to found The Japan Folk Crafts Museum in Tokyo. Later, Yanagi would describe what emerged that night as “a new standard of beauty”.

A century on, Yanagi’s ideas feel strikingly relevant. His message was simple: beautiful things need not be rare or expensive – they can be well-designed objects that we use every day.

In an age of fast fashion, disposable products and growing concerns about waste, his approach offers an important reminder to think about the objects we choose to have around us.

How mingei was born

Yanagi (1889–1961) was an art critic and collector who believed beauty was not solely the preserve of famous artists or rare treasures. He and his friends were drawn, instead, to well-made and functional objects: bowls, baskets, fabrics and tools created for daily use, rather than to display.

To Yanagi, these simple things shaped the rhythm of daily life – yet had gone unnoticed in a world rushing toward modern mass production.

The attraction came from looking closely. Yanagi described it as “seeing with one’s own eyes before dissecting with the intellect”. He admired the work of anonymous craftspeople who repeated familiar forms, refining them through long periods of practice.

These makers did not seek fame; their goal was to create objects that balanced beauty and function so completely that they were inseparable.

Japan in the 1920s was changing fast. Mass-produced goods were replacing handmade ones, and many local craft traditions were in decline. Yanagi worried this shift would erase skills and weaken the bond between beauty and everyday life. Mingei aimed to bring this connection back into view.

Yanagi, Hamada and Kawai agreed they needed a new word for the kind of objects they wanted to celebrate. From minshuteki kōgei, meaning “craft of the people”, they coined the shorter term mingei. It describes objects made for use rather than prestige, and by hand rather than by machine. Yanagi believed these objects formed the true heart of Japanese craft.

A year after their Mount Kōya conversation, the group held their first folk craft exhibition in Ginza. None of the works carried signatures. The exhibition aimed to encourage a new way of looking at humble objects, suggesting that everyday things held artistic value when viewed with care.

How mingei shaped Japanese design

Yanagi’s ideas went on to shape Japanese craft and design throughout the 20th century, influencing not only craftspeople but also designers.

His son, Yanagi Sōri, adopted mingei principles in his famous 1954 Butterfly Stool, made from two curved pieces of plywood that meet like wings. Simple, balanced and light, the stool is now an icon of modern design, showing how mingei could take form in new materials and contexts.

The movement also shaped the work of Hamada and Kawai, and many other makers including Tomimoto Kenkichi, Serizawa Keisuke, Munakata Shikō and the Englishman Bernard Leach. They showed how traditional craft practised with care and humility could remain vital in a rapidly changing world.

Another branch of Yanagi’s legacy emerged with the rise of seikatsu kōgei, or “lifestyle crafts”, in the 1990s. These makers turned to simple, functional objects to reconsider how we live. After Japan’s economic bubble burst in the 1980s, many began to question the habit of buying and discarding.

Why Yanagi’s ideas matter today

The influence of mingei continues in contemporary design. Fukasawa Naoto – one of Japan’s most influential designers and the current director of The Japan Folk Crafts Museum – aims to create objects which work so naturally that they seem to disappear into daily life.

He describes this as “without thought” design: things that feel right in the hand, fit their purpose and do not demand attention. His long collaboration with MUJI, known for its pared-back products, shows how closely his work follows the mingei spirit.

This way of thinking sits in sharp contrast to how many goods are made today. A culture of fast buying and quick disposal has left people feeling disconnected from the act of making, from materials and from the things they own.

Mingei offers an alternative way of thinking. It invites us to look closely at the objects we use each day – to notice their shape, feel and purpose. It suggests beauty should be part of everyday life, not an escape from it.

Yanagi believed if we change how we see and choose ordinary things, we might also change how we live. A century later, his call to value simple and well-made objects offers a steady guide through our profit-driven, disposable world.

Penny Bailey 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. Beauty in ordinary things: why this Japanese folk craft movement still matters 100 years on – https://theconversation.com/beauty-in-ordinary-things-why-this-japanese-folk-craft-movement-still-matters-100-years-on-269802

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Kai Schweizer, PhD Candidate in Youth Mental Health, The University of Western Australia; The Kids Research Institute

When people picture someone with an eating disorder, many think of a thin, teenage girl with anorexia nervosa. This stereotype is so pervasive it can feel like a fact.

The reality is that eating disorders affect people of all ages, body sizes, cultures, races, sexes, genders and sexualities. In 2023, around 1.1 million Australians (around 4.5% of the population) were living with an eating disorder.

A growing body of evidence suggests LGBTQIA+ people are particularly vulnerable to developing eating disorders. But we still need more research to understand how and why they affect this group more.

Here’s what we know so far about LGBTQIA+ people’s higher risk – and what treatment actually works for them.

What is an eating disorder?

Eating disorders are serious mental health conditions that affect a person’s eating behaviours. They can harm both physical and mental health.

Anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa are the most well-known eating disorders, but the most common are actually binge eating disorder (eating a lot in a short amount of time and feeling out of control) and avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder (restricting eating because of sensory sensitivity, lack of appetite, or fear of illness or choking).

Eating disorders can cause damage to a person’s organs, bones, fertility and brain function. People with an eating disorder are up to five times more likely to die early than those without one.

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Read more:
What’s the difference between an eating disorder and disordered eating?

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How much higher is the risk for LGBTQIA+ people?

Research shows that LGBTQIA+ people have much higher rates of eating disorders than non-LGBTQIA+ people.

For example, in the United States an estimated 9% of the population will experience an eating disorder in their lifetime. But a 2018 survey of LGBTQ young people in the US found rates were significantly higher:

• 54% reported an eating disorder diagnosis
• another 21% thought they had an eating disorder, but hadn’t been diagnosed.

Within the LGBTQIA+ community, the risk also varies across different groups:

• lesbian, gay and bisexual people: more than twice as likely to have an eating disorder as heterosexual people
• intersex people: nearly four times as likely as endosex (non-intersex) people
• trans people: nearly 11 times more likely than cisgender people.

We don’t have data for asexual people, but we do know that asexual people have poorer body image than their non-asexual peers. So it is likely they also experience higher rates of eating disorders.

Why LGBTQIA+ people face higher risk

Being an LGBTQIA+ person is not a mental illness. There is no evidence of a biological reason why LGBTQIA+ people experience higher rates of eating disorders.

While many factors contribute, two of the most studied risk factors are minority stress and gender dysphoria.

1. Minority stress

Minority stress refers to how discrimination and stigma negatively impact the health of LGBTQIA+ people. This means it is not who they are, but how LGBTQIA+ people are treated that drives their higher risk.

Discrimination can lead LGBTQIA+ people to feel shame about their identities and bodies. Some people try to cope through disordered eating behaviours, which can develop into an eating disorder.

For intersex people, medically unnecessary surgeries in childhood to “normalise” their bodies can cause trauma and shame that can also increase eating disorder risk.

2. Gender dysphoria

Many trans people experience something called gender dysphoria. This is the distress, discomfort or disconnect that can happen when a person’s gender identity doesn’t match their physical body or how others see them. For many trans people, eating disorders can be an attempt to reduce gender dysphoria.

In trans teens, eating disorders often develop as a way to stop puberty when they can’t access puberty blocking medications. For example, restricting food may be a way to try to reduce the appearance of breast tissue or to stop having periods.

What kind of treatment would work?

After a diagnosis, typical eating disorder treatment involves a multidisciplinary team including a doctor, mental health professional and dietitian. Treatment can be provided in the community or in a hospital if someone’s physical health needs close monitoring.

But eating disorder treatment was not designed with LGBTQIA+ people in mind and can sometimes cause harm. LGBTQIA+ people report more negative experiences of treatment compared to the general population.

For example, mirror exposure exercises are a common therapy, where someone with an eating disorder is asked to look in a mirror for prolonged periods to lessen their body image distress. But for some trans people this can worsen their gender dysphoria.

This doesn’t mean treatment can’t help LGBTQIA+ people. It means treatment has to be adapted to ensure it meets their needs.

In practice, this might look like:

• consistently using the right name and pronouns
• using inclusive language and gender options on documents
• displaying explicit statements that LGBTQIA+ people are welcome in the service
• incorporating gender-affirming medical care into eating disorder treatment
• addressing minority stress in a trauma-informed way. This means validating how someone might experience, responding to discrimination and stigma, and working with them to build healthier coping strategies and stronger support systems.

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If this article raised any concerns for you or someone you know, contact the Butterfly Foundation on 1800 33 4673. You can also contact QLife at 1800 184 527.

Kai Schweizer receives funding from the Australian Government Research Training Program and the Australian Eating Disorder Research and Translation Centre SEED Grants Scheme.

– ref. Why eating disorders are more common among LGBTQIA+ people and what can help – https://theconversation.com/why-eating-disorders-are-more-common-among-lgbtqia-people-and-what-can-help-270268

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Jean-Nicolas Bordeleau, Research Fellow, Jeff Bleich Centre for Democracy and Disruptive Technologies, Flinders University

Amid increasing polarisation, disinformation and economic anxieties, the health of representative democracies will be tested in elections across all continents in 2026.

There are four pivotal elections that will either reinforce democratic norms or risk further eroding confidence in free and fair processes.

1. US midterms: a referendum on Trump

Scheduled for November 3, the US midterm elections will see all 435 seats in the House of Representatives up for grabs, as well as a third of the 100 Senate seats.

Historically, the party controlling the White House tends to lose ground in the midterms. This makes the 2026 elections a high-stakes moment for President Donald Trump. Current polling indicates the Republicans could lose control of the House and see their Senate majority winnowed down to two or three seats.

Trump has taken advantage of a pliant Congress to pass his legislation (such as the “big, beautiful bill”), get his judicial appointments approved and escape the usual oversight of his executive branch.

So, if Trump loses one or both chambers, it will likely lead to legislative gridlock. And, if the first Trump administration serves as an example, a Democrat-controlled House could mean trouble for the president.

More crucially, the 2026 midterms will be a test of the US democratic spirit two years into Trump’s second term. With persistent concerns over electoral integrity and democratic backsliding, the midterms will determine whether the Democrats in Congress have the ability to finally hold Trump to account.

2. Brazil: a return to normalcy?

Brazilians will go to the polls on October 4 to elect a new president, the National Congress, and state governors and legislators. The 79-year-old incumbent president, Luis Inácio Lula da Silva, is seeking an unprecedented fourth term.

Lula has had a topsy-turvy political career thus far. In 2017, he was convicted of corruption and money laundering and began serving a 12-year sentence. This disqualified him from running in the 2018 general election.

Lula was freed in 2019 and his conviction was nullified two years later, paving the way for him to return to office in a narrow win over then-incumbent Jair Bolsonaro.

Lula’s third term in office started with a failed coup in early 2023 orchestrated by Bolsonaro and his allies. Bolsonaro has now been sentenced to 27 years in jail for his role in the attempted coup.

Meanwhile, Lula has had mixed reviews from voters, with recent polling showing just a third of Brazilians think he has done an excellent job and a third believe he’s been poor. The rest are in the middle.

With Jair Bolsonaro’s eldest son, Flavio, confirming his intention to run, the election will be a test of whether Bolsonarismo – Jair’s right-wing political movement – can survive under a new leader.

The election will also determine if Brazil can move beyond its recent history of polarisation and instability and safeguard its democracy.

3. Bangladesh: a major opportunity for Gen Z

Bangladesh’s February general election offers something the country has not seen in more than 15 years: a genuine opportunity for citizens – especially young people – to participate in a free, fair and competitive vote.

For the Gen Z activists who helped oust Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s autocratic government in 2024, this moment is consequential.

After the student uprising toppled Hasina, the power vacuum was filled with an interim government led by Nobel Peace Prizer winner Muhammad Yunus. It was tasked with repairing the institutions that had been hollowed out by one-party rule.

More than a year on, the administration has tried to restore the independence of the judiciary, election commission and media – essential foundations for any credible transition of power.

Youth leaders are now trying to use this momentum to enter the political system through their new National Citizens Party (NCP). However, they remain wary of reforms without firm legal guarantees.

Their emergence on the political scene signals a remarkable bottom-up transition in a country where nearly 40% of the population is under 18.

What happens in February will reverberate beyond Dhaka. A credible vote could anchor democratic norms and regional stability in South Asia. A compromised one risks squandering the youth-driven revival that made this election possible.

4. Quebec: renewed push for independence?

The Quebec general election, scheduled for October 5, presents a different kind of democratic challenge. This election will be rooted in identity and the ongoing question of national belonging within the Canadian federation.

This contest comes on the heels of the incumbent government’s controversial new laws mandating the use of the French language and expanding state secularism.

These issues will inevitably dominate the campaign and bring with it existential questions related to Quebec’s sovereignty.

The 2026 election is poised to be a battle for the hearts of Francophone voters, particularly between the governing centre-right Coalition Avenir Québec, the Liberal Party of Quebec and the resurgent Parti Québécois (PQ).

The PQ, which is currently leading in opinion polls, is openly committed to holding a third independence referendum.

While support for independence may not yet be at a majority level, a strong mandate for the PQ could reignite the sovereignty debate. This would bring significant constitutional tensions within Canada – and could very well shape the future of the country.

Rodrigo Praino receives funding from the Department of Defence, the Australian Research Council, and Defence Innovation Partnership.

Intifar Chowdhury and Jean-Nicolas Bordeleau do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. 4 pivotal elections around the world that will pose a test to democracy in 2026 – https://theconversation.com/4-pivotal-elections-around-the-world-that-will-pose-a-test-to-democracy-in-2026-270882

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Joseph J. Gonzalez, Associate Professor of Global Studies, Appalachian State University

Footage of a handcuffed Nicolás Maduro being escorted to a Brooklyn detention center will come as uncomfortable viewing for political leaders in Havana.

“Cuba is going to be something we’ll end up talking about,” said President Donald Trump just hours after the Jan. 3, 2026, operation to seize the Venezuelan president. Secretary of State Marco Rubio echoed Trump’s warning: “If I lived in Havana and I was in the government, I’d be concerned.”

As a historian of the United States and Cuba, I believe that Washington’s relations with Havana have entered a new phase under the Trump administration. Gone is Barack Obama’s “Cuban Thaw” and Joe Biden’s less-restrictive sanctions. In their places, the Trump administration has apparently adopted a policy of regime change through maximum pressure.

If the administration has its way, 2026 will be the final year of communist rule in Cuba – and it intends to achieve this without intervention by U.S. armed forces.

“I don’t think we need (to take) any action,” Trump said on Jan. 4, adding: “Cuba looks like it’s ready to fall.”

Cuba’s friend with benefits

Trump may have a point. Maduro’s capture has effectively taken away Cuba’s closest ally.

Maduro’s predecessor and mentor, Hugo Chávez, was an avowed admirer of Cuban revolutionary leader Fidel Castro.

Shortly after assuming power in 1999, Chávez’s government began supplying oil on favorable terms to Cuba in exchange for doctors and, eventually, the training of Venezuela’s security forces. It was no coincidence that 32 of the security officers killed as they defended Maduro from approaching American forces were Cuban.

Maduro succeeded Chavez as president in 2013 and continued the country’s support for Cuba. In 2022, a member of the Venezuelan opposition claimed that Caracas contributed US$60 billion to the Cuban economy between 2002 and 2022.

Maduro’s largesse proved unsustainable. Beginning in the early 2010s, Venezuela entered a severe economic crisis provoked by economic mismanagement, an overreliance on petroleum and U.S. sanctions.

Venezuela’s support of Cuba slowed to a trickle by 2016. Maduro’s government has nevertheless continued to supply Cuba with oil in secret, while evading U.S. sanctions, at amounts far below Cuba’s needs.

Hard times in Cuba

Venezuela’s penury and U.S. pressure mean Cubans are now experiencing deprivation on a level not seen since the country’s “special period” of economic crisis from 1991 to 1995, brought about by the collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of the bloc’s generous subsidies.

Since 2020, Cuba’s GDP has shrunk by 11%, while the value of the Cuban peso continues to fall.

Cubans no longer have reliable electricity or access to water. Mosquito-borne illnesses, once rare, are now rampant because the government cannot afford to spray pesticides.

The medical system provides only the most rudimentary care, and hospitals have little to no medicine.

Meanwhile, industrial and agricultural production have sharply declined, as have food imports.

And while famine has not yet emerged, food insecurity has increased, with most Cubans eating a limited diet and skipping meals. Street crime has also become common on Cuba’s once-safe streets.

Since seizing Maduro, the U.S. administration has outlined policies that appear aimed at increasing economic pressure on Cuba’s economy and provoking regime change. For example, the U.S. has made it clear it will no longer permit Venezuela to supply oil to Cuba.

Apparently, the administration hopes that without oil, the Cuban government will simply collapse. Or perhaps Trump expects that Cubans, as frustrated as they are, will overthrow their communist masters without help from the U.S.

A regime without popular support

Either way, there is a potential flaw with the administration’s reasoning: Cuba’s communists have survived crises such as these for more than 60 years. Yet, there is evidence that as Cuba’s economy declines, so too does support for the regime.

Since 2020, more than 1 million Cubans have left the country, principally for the U.S. and Spanish-speaking countries. A Cuban colleague of mine with access to government research recently told me the number is closer to 2 million.

Those who stayed are no more satisfied.

In a 2024 public opinion poll, an overwhelming majority of Cubans expressed profound dissatisfaction with the Cuban Communist Party and the leadership of President Miguel Díaz-Canel.

Cubans have also taken their complaints to the streets. In July 2021, protests erupted across Cuba, demanding more freedom and a better standard of living. The government quickly jailed protesters and sentenced them to long prison terms.

Sporadic protests have continued nevertheless, often quickly and without warning, drawing harsh repression. In particular, the San Isidro movement, formed in 2018 to protest restrictions on artistic expression, has strong support among younger Cubans.

Changing attitudes toward America

As Cubans have turned against their government, they have become more receptive to the U.S.

During my first visit in 1996, Cubans blamed the U.S. embargo in place since the early 1960s for the privations they suffered during the Special Period.

In the past decade, however, I have heard Cubans – at least those under 50 – express more anger with their government than with the U.S. embargo.

Make no mistake: Cubans want the U.S. embargo to end. But they no longer believe their government’s attempt to blame Washington for all of Cuba’s economic and political problems.

Part of this change is due to the extraordinary emigration of Cubans: Every Cuban I know has a family member or a friend in the U.S. The internet has also helped; Cubans can now read foreign news sources on their smartphones.

Welcome liberators?

Since Maduro’s capture, I have messaged friends in Cuba to gauge sentiment. All but one of the six Cuban friends I managed to reach told me they were receptive to U.S. intervention in Cuba, provided that it removed the regime making their lives miserable.

One friend said: “If the Yankees showed up today, most of us would probably greet them as liberators.”

Admittedly, my sample size is small. But such reactions, coming from comparatively elite Cubans working in both the private and public sectors, cannot be good news for what remains of the Castro regime.

Joseph J. Gonzalez 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. Cuba’s leaders just lost an ally in Maduro − if starved of Venezuelan oil, they may also lose what remains of their public support – https://theconversation.com/cubas-leaders-just-lost-an-ally-in-maduro-if-starved-of-venezuelan-oil-they-may-also-lose-what-remains-of-their-public-support-272681

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Rebecca Hanson, Associate Professor of Latin American Studies, Sociology and Criminology, University of Florida

The immediate political void left in Venezuela by Nicolás Maduro’s abrupt removal from power has been filled by the former vice president, Delcy Rodríguez, who was sworn in as interim president on Jan. 5, 2026.

But the situation is far from stable. Rodríguez represents just one of multiple and competing interests within a Venezuela elite composed of a precarious civil-military alliance officially committed to a leftist populist ideology called Chavismo.

Delcy and her brother Jorge Rodríguez, the longtime right-hand man of Maduro, are the leading faces of the civilian factions. Interior Minister Diosdado Cabello and Defense Minister Vladimir Padrino López, both members of the armed forces, represent its military interests.

Even this rough civilian-military split represents just the institutional dimensions of power in Venezuela. There are also numerous armed groups and organizations with distinct interests that will respond differently to what happens in the coming days and weeks.

As scholars who have spent decades researching these armed groups, we know that Chavista leadership now faces a stark dilemma: Does it acquiesce to U.S. pressure and coercion over domestic economic and policy decisions or does it resist? Both paths risk armed conflict of varying severity, with wide-ranging consequences for the country’s future stability.

Below, we identify the main armed actors and examine how they may respond to choices made by Chavismo’s leadership in response to Trump’s use of force.

A fragile unity

If current elite cohesion holds and Chavista leadership acquiesces to Trump’s designs on the country, in our opinion the likelihood of large-scale armed conflict remains low.

Over the years, the government has consolidated loyalty by installing officers at the helm of state institutions and granting access to resources such as oil, gold mining and drugs. Future government cohesion would be contingent on the military’s continued control of key institutions, as well as the legal and illicit markets that underpin senior officers’ wealth.

But the risk of instability also lies outside of elite unity, with the armed “colectivos.” These diverse groups range from loyal government supporters to factions more critical of the government. Although their numbers are unknown, colectivos are numerous, coordinated, often heavily armed and control significant territory – including in the country’s capital.

While many are now driven primarily by economic interests, a subset retains insurgent, ant-imperialist commitments. Should Chavista elites be perceived as acquiescing to U.S. pressure going forward, these groups could interpret such accommodation as ideological betrayal and turn to guerrilla violence.

As a founder of one of the largest and most powerful colectivos put it when we interviewed him in 2021: “As long as imperialism exists, armed struggle will always be present because imperialism seeks to destroy the people.”

While colectivo members were largely quiet immediately after Maduro’s abduction, some videos released on social media and news outlets have shown men believed to be colectivo members harassing reporters and people in the streets.

Potential for political rupture

It remains unclear how durable the current unified but already fraught Chavista front will prove. Indeed, the Rodríguez civilian wing and the Cabello-Padrino López military apparatus likely have different levels of tolerance for Trump’s propositions.

The Rodríguez siblings have generally adopted a pragmatic posture: In recent years, Delcy has shown a willingness to move away from state-led socialism toward market-oriented policies in an effort to stabilize the Venezuelan economy. Moreover, embracing free-market policies could help the siblings attract support from business elites and segments of the broader population.

Military factions have increased their political weight since the death of Hugo Chávez, Maduro’s predecessor. These military forces want economic controls that allow them to benefit from crony capitalism and guarantee their interests in strategic enterprises – including oil, gold, food distribution and drug markets. Moreover, Chavismo’s anti-imperialist nationalist ideology is particularly salient within the armed forces.

Trump’s statements indicating the U.S. would be the de facto ruler of Venezuela was likely perceived within Chavista circles as overtly blatant imperialism and an intentional public humiliation. While the Rodríguez siblings may be prepared to absorb this to preserve stability and their own survival, hard-line military figures could be far less inclined to do so.

For now, the civilian leadership is at least officially committed to Maduro. Still, Trump’s framing of the Maduro operation as an overt spectacle of subjugation raises the military’s political cost of continued alignment with a civilian leadership potentially seen as acquiescing to Washington’s demands.

Whether this perceived affront translates into defection will also depend on how any potential Rodríguez realignment threatens or preserves the military’s economic interests.

The contours of resulting conflict

An open rupture over the role of the U.S. in Venezuela would likely result in asymmetrical conflict between the U.S. and Venezuelan armed forces.

The National Bolivarian Armed Forces of Venezuela consists of roughly 123,000 active personnel supported by about 8,000 reservists. The Bolivarian Militia, a fifth component of the armed forces that integrates civilian volunteers into the military, adds an estimated 200,000–300,000 members to this count. Although severely weakened by a years-long economic crisis, Venezuela’s armed forces remain a formidable actor.

This conflict would also probably engage the colectivos, who have collaborated with the armed forces for years as part of what Maduro has called the Unión Cívico Militar. In short, we would see both formal armed conflict and guerrilla warfare break out.

The relationship between the government and police forces has long been characterized by mistrust, but high-ranking officials are aware that the continued future of their institutions are tied up with Chavismo’s survival.

Of Venezuela’s more than 140 police forces, the most powerful are the Policía Nacional Bolivariana, or PNB, the CICPC, the investigative and forensic police, and the SEBIN, the political intelligence police that have become synonymous with torture. The PNB and CICPC have benefited from widespread corruption under Chavismo. Their officers are involved in rampant extortion and kidnapping, and both have played central roles in systematic state violence during the Maduro era. At the same time, the CICPC is widely seen as lacking ideological loyalty to the government and at some moments has bucked state policy and directives.

Police forces are more closely aligned with the military than Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez’s civilian faction. In the case of a rupture, this alignment would likely hold.

The role of criminal and guerrilla groups

Meanwhile, numerous gangs and criminal organizations operate across Venezuela, ranging from groups of 10 to 12 men to more sophisticated “mega-gangs” with over 100 members. While the Trump administration has often mischaracterized these groups, it is true that relationships between the Maduro government and some groups allowed them to become more organized, better armed and more capable of governing the territories they control, though others were weakened or dismantled by the state.

Gangs and criminal organizations have no ideological loyalty to the government; their priority is preserving control over illicit markets, including drugs, kidnapping, extortion and food distribution. In the event of a civil-military split, such groups may well remain neutral, choosing instead to focus on protecting their criminal businesses and potentially using instability to expand them.

At the same time, Delcy and Jorge Rodríguez could revive a familiar strategy: negotiating informal agreements with gangs in exchange for calm in the streets and tacit support.

In the past, Chavista governments have barred police forces from entering gang-controlled areas and tolerated gang dominance over illicit markets. While such arrangements can produce short-term territorial stability, they also deepen tensions with the police.

The final major armed players in Venezuela are guerrilla political groups. The National Liberation Army, or ELN, and FARC dissident groups operate in multiple states along the Venezuela-Colombia border. Well-armed and deeply enmeshed in illegal mining, extortion and smuggling, both groups have benefited from Chavismo’s rule. They have largely moved away from pursuing national political power toward capturing local state infrastructure and establishing parallel authorities to control illicit markets. Nevertheless, insurgent ideologies and opposition to demobilization efforts in Colombia remain central to understanding their motivations.

Guerrilla organizations such as the ELN and FARC dissidents would also likely seek to preserve – and potentially expand – their control over illicit economies in any future political arrangement. Unlike local gangs, however, these groups maintain articulated political agendas, even if those agendas remain largely oriented toward Colombia. Any future alignment of these groups would reflect both ideological commitments and a strategic calculation that civilian factions aligned with Washington would pose a greater threat to their political and economic interests.

Addressing this constellation of armed groups through state-building and multilateral cooperation could go some way toward providing Venezuelans with stability in the post-Maduro era. But that is far from guaranteed in this uncertain moment, especially if the Trump administration continues its policy of direct coercion over Venezuelan affairs.

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. Venezuela’s civil-military alliance is being stretched — if it breaks, numerous armed groups may be drawn into messy split – https://theconversation.com/venezuelas-civil-military-alliance-is-being-stretched-if-it-breaks-numerous-armed-groups-may-be-drawn-into-messy-split-272670

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Alizée Pillod, Doctorante en science politique, Université de Montréal

Italy is preparing to host the 25th Winter Olympic Games next month — from Feb. 6 to the 22nd, followed by the Paralympic Games from March 6 to the 15th.

After the excitement of the Paris Summer Games in 2024, which had sustainability at the heart of its planning strategy, the Milan Winter Games will be decisive in determining whether there’s truly a major shift happening within the Olympic movement.

Will the organizing committee be able to keep its green promises?

As a doctoral student in political science at the University of Montréal, my work focuses on both climate communication and environmental policy development, including in the sports sector.

Winter Games in the climate era

It should be noted that few sectors are as dependent on weather conditions as outdoor sports.

The climate crisis is making it increasingly difficult to practise sports, especially winter sports. The cancellation of the Alpine Ski World Cup in Mont Tremblant last year due to lack of snow is just one striking example of what’s happening.

According to a study by the University of Waterloo, only 10 former Olympic sites will remain viable for hosting future Winter Games by the year 2050. By 2080, that number could drop to just six.

At the same time, hosting mega sporting events such as the Olympics generates a considerable carbon and environmental footprint.

Although generally smaller than the Summer Games, the Winter Games have been the subject of many environmental controversies, particularly in relation to the destruction of preserved nature reserves.

For the most recent Games in Beijing in 2022, more than 20,000 ancient trees were felled to make room for an expanded ski area and the construction of infrastructure, including access roads, car parks and lodging facilities.

High-level sport is therefore caught in a conflict of both being affected by and contributing to global warming.

Agendas set new standards

In light of these challenges, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has adopted several policies in recent years to reduce the footprint of the Games, such as the Olympic Agenda 2020, with strategic objectives that were reiterated in 2021 with the Olympic Agenda 20+5.

After Paris 2024, the Milan-Cortina Games will be the first Winter Games to have to comply with these requirements.

Two of the goals are to promote sustainable Games and to make the Games a springboard for achieving the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals.

To this end, the IOC now requires host cities to reduce their CO₂ emissions and promote the concept of legacy to encourage the reuse or converstion of existing venues when the event is over.

Milan-Cortina on the green track

Fortunately, it looks like the Italian organizing committee has decided to make the fight against global warming a central part of its strategic plan. From the outset, it implemented a rigorous process for assessing its greenhouse gas emissions.

In its second report on its sustainability strategy, published in September 2025, the committee also presented several measures to further reduce the carbon footprint of the event.

The flagship initiatives include a commitment to use 100 per cent renewable energy and limit food waste by redistributing any surplus food to local charities. In an effort to encourage the circular economy, more than 20,000 pieces of equipment from the Paris Games were repurchased.

In terms of infrastructure, the focus is once again on reusing existing facilities and using temporary structures that will be dismantled after the Games, as they were in Paris. In total, nearly 90 per cent of the venues will fall into this category.

The few new permanent buildings being built will become training centres for Italy’s future elite athletes, or be converted for other uses. Like the one in Paris, the new Olympic Village in Milan will become a university residence, for example.

The plan also includes adaptation measures. With global warming, natural snowfall is becoming increasingly rare and the use of artificial snow is becoming the new norm to offer athletes optimal performance conditions. The organizing committee has therefore decided to modernize its artificial snow production systems to respond more effectively to needs in the event of abnormally warm temperatures this winter.

An ambitious plan, but not flawless

While the plan looks reassuring on paper, its implementation still presents a number of challenges.

Beyond the chronic delays in the progress of the work and colossal budget overruns (spending so far is at least double the initial budget), the construction of new infrastructure in the mountains necessarily has a significant environmental footprint.

It’s also worth noting that the Milan-Cortina Games will take place at venues spread across four areas in northern Italy: Milan, Cortina, Valtellina and Val di Fiemme. Together, these venues cover an area of more than 20,000 square kilometres, making these the most widely dispersed Games in history. As a result, there will be not one but six resort sites for athletes.

This undoubtedly explains why most of the budget is allocated to the development of public transport, particularly the rail network, in order to facilitate travel between the various venues. Sports infrastructure, meanwhile, accounts for less than a quarter of the total budget.

In addition, some of the construction projects have been controversial. The brand new bobsled track in Cortina, for example, has been heavily criticized because it required the felling of several hundred trees. Although these numbers are far lower than those in Beijing, the fact remains that hosting the Games leads to the disruption of local biodiversity.

In terms of temporary facilities, the committee has pledged to restore ecosystems and, more broadly, offset all residual emissions, in particular by buying carbon credits. However, pessimists will argue that what has been destroyed can never be fully restored, and that no financial or ecological compensation can truly erase the impact.

In terms of adaptation, it should be noted that the production of artificial snow, even when it’s optimized, uses a lot of water and energy, in addition to degrading soil quality. So this solution, which is supposed to mitigate the effects of global warming, paradoxically ends up contributing to it, highlighting the importance of better thinking about adaptation solutions.

Finally, residents fear gentrification. In Milan, the construction of the Olympic Village led to the eviction of residents, and the rents planned once the site is converted into student accommodation are considered too high. From a social justice perspective, therefore, it’s worth asking who will truly benefit from the new facilities in the longer term.

A genuine turning point?

Overall, the Milan-Cortina strategy shows a real evolution in the way we think about the sustainability of the Winter Games. The organizers have learned from previous Games and are now proposing even more innovative approaches.

Although the anticipated greenhouse gas emissions are lower than in Beijing or in Pyeongchang, those for Milan-Cortina are still estimated at nearly one million tonnes of CO₂ equivalent. In this context, hopefully the committee will succeed in implementing all the measures planned to offset as much as possible.

Furthermore, the next Winter Games will take place in the French Alps. The brand new organizing committee for the 2030 Games is no doubt closely monitoring the choices that were made on the Italian side, aware of the growing climate challenges that await it.

In the meantime, we can count on the athletes and para-athletes, who, as I write these lines, are already hard at work getting ready to dazzle us once again, if only for a moment.

Alizée Pillod is affiliated with the Centre d’Études et de Recherches Internationales de l’Université de Montréal (CERIUM), the Centre de recherche sur les Politiques et le Développement Social (CPDS) and the Centre for the Study of Democratic Citizenship (CSDC). Her research is funded by the Fonds de Recherche du Québec (FRQ). Alizée has also been awarded the Departmental Recruitment Scholarship in Public Policy (2021), the Rosdev Scholarship for Excellence in Environmental Studies (2023), and the Scholarship for Excellence in Public Policy from the Maison des Affaires Publiques et Internationales (2025). She has previously collaborated with the Ouranos consortium, the Quebec Ministry of the Environment, and the INSPQ.

– ref. As the Milan Winter Olympics approach, what are the environmental expectations? – https://theconversation.com/as-the-milan-winter-olympics-approach-what-are-the-environmental-expectations-270626

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Matt Wilde, Lecturer in Human Geography, University of Leicester

When the news broke of Nicolás Maduro’s arrest following a US attack on Venezuela on January 3, que locura (“what madness”) was the line that seemed to capture the moment. As Venezuelans around the world reached for their phones and anxiously followed the news, they grappled to make sense of what they were seeing.

Drawing on our long-term ethnographic research with Venezuelans living in Spain, the US and Venezuela itself, the insider accounts and interviews detailed below show the diverse ways in which these events are being experienced and understood.

In the Spanish capital of Madrid, many Venezuelan migrants celebrated what they saw as a long-awaited turning point. But across Venezuela’s diaspora and inside the country, others described an uneasy quiet and deep fears about what might come next. These contrasting reactions reveal a moment shaped as much by uncertainty and suspicion as by relief and hope.

At the Puerta del Sol square, home of Madrid’s regional government, we joined hundreds of Venezuelans as they met to celebrate the news that Maduro had been taken into US custody. After beginning as a small gathering, the numbers soon swelled and a party atmosphere took hold.

Anti-government chants such as y ya cayó, y ya cayó, este gobierno ya cayó (“it fell, it fell, this government fell”) and se fue, se fue, (“he’s gone, he’s gone”) reverberated around the square.

Venezuelans, many of whom have claimed political asylum in Spain, hugged, shouted, cried and danced under a 32-metre-high Christmas tree, enjoying a welcome moment of reprieve. One older Venezuelan woman dressed as the US president, Donald Trump, handed out fake dollar bills as a “reward” for capturing Maduro.

Another attendee, a 26-year-old delivery rider, described how he partied until the early hours of the morning in a bar hung with Venezuelan flags. “I’m very, very happy,” he said. “They finally captured that dictator.”

But these jubilant scenes were not the only reaction. Other Venezuelans we spoke to expressed a more cautious and contingent hope. In an interview conducted over the weekend in Madrid, a Venezuelan woman called Araceli described how she didn’t feel comfortable attending the Puerta del Sol celebrations.

“I just feel very sad. I am happy Maduro’s going to be in jail, but I know the repercussions. I know what a war means.” She continued through tears: “I just want my family to be safe. I just want the simple things. I can’t celebrate until I know my family are safe.”

Such sentiments were echoed by Guillermo, a Venezuelan man we interviewed online who is currently living in the US city of Chicago. “It’s confusing. I’m happy that Maduro has lost power, but scared because I fear the consequences of the US taking over my country.”

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Read more:
Donald Trump’s raid on Venezuela foreshadows a new ‘great power’ carve-up of the world

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Many Venezuelan migrants want the chance to return home to a stable country, but are concerned about how Venezuela’s heavily militarised regime will respond to the US attack. Since Maduro’s capture, security forces and pro-government motorcycle gangs known as colectivos have patrolled the streets of Venezuela’s capital, Caracas.

They are also deeply suspicious of Trump’s motives. In the aftermath of Maduro’s abduction, Trump said the US would “run” Venezuela, though several prominent Republicans swiftly backpedalled on this assertion.

Reaction inside Venezuela

This sense of caution is playing out on Venezuela’s streets as well. Ernesto, a small business owner in the central city of Barquisimeto, described to us how his friends and neighbours are responding to Maduro’s arrest.

“A lot of anticipation and uncertainty. There’s joy that Maduro has been taken away, but no one is celebrating in public. Lots of people won’t go out because they’re worried that they’ll be stopped and robbed of their car and money if they’re out on the street. Others have gone out to stock up on groceries and gas in case of shortages.”

The removal of Maduro is also bringing longstanding political tensions to the fore. Luis, originally from the Venezuelan city of Valencia, sent us a voice note describing how he had to leave family WhatsApp groups to avoid political arguments. “Oh, you’re the best Donald Trump, oh thank you so much! Make Venezuela Great Again! It makes me so sad and angry,” he recounted sarcastically.

Anger at what many perceive to be naked imperialism from the US is expressed by Venezuelans across the political spectrum, including those who never supported the Bolivarian Revolution that was initiated by Maduro’s predecessor, Hugo Chávez.

“I am sceptical,” says Jaime, a resident of Caracas. “I don’t know if I should be happy because I don’t like Trump’s tone. He continues with his theory that we stole his oil and it sets a terrible precedent. Losing our sovereignty over the resource that sustains Venezuela would be something terrible.”

Such concerns are shared by Valentina, a retired academic based in Valencia. She told us: “Imagine, we’re being invaded by the US! It’s horrible but we can’t do anything, just wait and see what their administration will be like.”

These diverse reactions show how geopolitical ruptures are lived through families, friendships and daily routines, shaping intimate decisions and relationships in the process. As Venezuela becomes the focal point for a seismic realignment of the global political order, ordinary Venezuelans once again find their lives being restructured by forces beyond their control.

Across Venezuela’s transnational population, the present moment is marked simultaneously by hope, fear and profound uncertainty about what the future holds.

The research for this article was funded by the British Academy (SRG2324240415) and the Economic and Social Research Council (ES/2878167).

– ref. Venezuelans are reacting to Maduro’s capture with anger, fear, hope and joy – https://theconversation.com/venezuelans-are-reacting-to-maduros-capture-with-anger-fear-hope-and-joy-272717

Source: The Conversation – Global Perspectives – By Kamran Talattof, Professor of Near Eastern Studies, University of Arizona

A familiar slogan has echoed through the streets of various Iranian cities in recent days: “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon, I sacrifice my life for Iran.”

That phrase has been chanted at protests that have sprung up around Iran since Dec. 28, 2025. The spark of the uprising and bazaar strikes has been economic hardship and government mismanagement.

But as an expert of Iranian history and culture, I believe the slogan’s presence signals that protests go deeper than economic frustration alone. When people in Iran chant “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon,” they are, I believe, rejecting the theocratic system in Iran entirely. In other words, the current crisis isn’t just about bread and jobs, it’s about who decides what Iran stands for.

The origins of the slogan

The phrase “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon, I sacrifice my life for Iran” first gained prominence during the 2009 Green Movement, when hundreds of thousands of people protested a disputed presidential election in Iran.

It has since appeared in successive major demonstrations, from the 2017-18 economic protests to the 2019 fuel price uprising. It was also prominent during the 2022 “Women, Life, Freedom” movement, sparked by the death of an Iranian-Kurdish woman, Mahsa Amini, following her detention by Iran’s morality police for not wearing a “proper” hijab.

The phrase ties together two key aspects of successive Iranian protest movements: domestic economic, political or social grievances and an explicit rejection of the government’s justification for that hardship – namely, that sacrifice at home is necessary to fulfill ideological goals of “resistance” abroad.

In particular, the slogan targets the Islamic Republic’s decades-long support for Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in Gaza.

Estimates suggest that the regime has channeled between US$700 million and $1 billion annually to regional allies since the 1980s – funds that many Iranians argue should instead address domestic infrastructure, health care and education.

From alliance to resentment

Understanding the full meaning of the slogan requires historical context. Under the U.S.-aligned Pahlavi monarchy, which ruled from 1925 to 1979, Iran maintained diplomatic and economic ties with Israel while pursuing modernization.

The Shah’s opponents, particularly leftist groups, exploited these connections, using slogans like “Iran’s become Palestine, why sit still, O people?” to mobilize against the monarchy.

Indeed, many of the Islamic revolutionary leaders that ousted the Shah in 1979 had ties with Palestinian groups.

After the revolution, the Islamic Republic inverted both its ties to the U.S. and Iran’s relationship with Israel, making anti-Israel rhetoric and support for Palestinian causes central to its identity.

Ruhollah Khomeini, the leader of the Islamic Revolution, declared solidarity with oppressed Muslims worldwide, positioning Iran as the vanguard of resistance against what he called “Western imperialism and Zionism.”

But this ideological commitment came with substantial costs for Iranians.

Iran’s support for Hezbollah during Lebanon’s civil war, its backing of Hamas in the Palestinian group’s fight against Israel, and its involvement in Syrian and Iraqi conflicts have contributed to international sanctions, diplomatic isolation and economic pressure on Iran. And these burdens have fallen disproportionately on ordinary citizens rather than the ruling elite.

Economic crisis and political defiance

“Down with the Islamic Republic” is also chanted alongside “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon” in the current uprising – the most serious that the Iranian government has faced in years.

But neither lethal force – at least 1,203 arrests and more than two dozen deaths thus far – nor supreme leader Ali Khamenei’s Jan. 3 order for a harsher crackdown has quelled the unrest.

Instead, protests have expanded to 110 cities and villages.

The demonstrations illustrate how economic and political grievances intersect in Iran. When demonstrators chant “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon” while protesting bread prices and unemployment, they are not compartmentalizing issues – they are drawing a direct line between foreign policy choices and domestic suffering.

The slogan makes three simultaneous arguments.

First, it rejects imposed solidarity. Many Iranians, including those sympathetic to Palestinian rights, resent being conscripted into conflicts that are not their own. And the government’s insistence that Iranians must make sacrifices for distant causes breeds resentment rather than unity. Take the government’s effort to portray the 12-day war with Israel in June 2025 as a moment of national resistance. Rather, many Iranians instead blamed the leadership for either provoking the conflict or failing to meaningfully defend the country from Israeli – or American – bombs.

The slogan also demands accountability for resource allocation. When state media broadcasts funerals for fighters killed in Syria or Yemen while Iran’s hospitals lack basic supplies, the disconnect between rhetoric and reality becomes glaring.

And finally, the protest message reclaims political belonging rooted in Iranian national history – and not just the ideological concerns of the Islamic Republic. By invoking Iran specifically, “I sacrifice my life for Iran,” protesters assert that their primary allegiance is to their own country, not to transnational ideological movements, regional proxies or the ruling government’s ideology.

The limits of solidarity

For all its longevity, however, the slogan has proven divisive. While some see it as a necessary assertion of self-determination after decades of enforced sacrifice, others – including some Iranian leftist intellectuals and activists – view it as abandoning solidarity with oppressed peoples.

But it doesn’t need to be an either/or. Many protesters risking bullets to demand “Iran first” are not expressing indifference to the suffering of Palestinians. Rather, they are insisting that effective solidarity requires a functioning state capable of supporting its own citizens, and that genuine liberation begins at home.

Regardless, the Islamic Republic’s response has been to frame criticism as betrayal, suggesting that those who question support for Gaza or Lebanon are complicit with imperialism – a narrative enforced through a mix of rhetoric and coercion.

But this framing increasingly fails to persuade a population that has watched living standards decline while billions of dollars flow to foreign conflicts. The effects of sanctions and shrinking foreign-currency revenues have pushed the Iranian state to raise taxes on households while shielding military and ideological spending. Meanwhile, the dollar’s daily surge and the rial’s rapid collapse have accelerated inflation and eroded purchasing power.

Authoring one’s own story

Undoubtedly, economic grievances underpin the current protests in Iran. However, the slogans used in Iranian protests – be they over election disputes, economic crises or women’s rights – indicate a broader critique of the Islamic Republic’s governing philosophy.

In the current wave of protests, demonstrators articulate through slogans both what they reject – “Down with the Islamic Republic” – and what many now seek to happen: “This is the final battle; Pahlavi will return,” a reference to the exiled Crown Prince Reza Pahlavi.

The “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon” chant asks: What does it mean for a government to prioritize foreign conflicts over domestic welfare? How long can imposed solidarity substitute for actual prosperity? And who has the right to determine which causes are worth sacrifice?

Such questions extend beyond Iran. They challenge assumptions about how governments invoke international causes to justify domestic policies and when citizens have the right to say, “Our story comes first.”

As such, the chant “Neither Gaza nor Lebanon, I sacrifice my life for Iran” is, I believe, both protest and reclamation. It rejects the Iranian state’s narrative of mandatory sacrifice while asserting the right of people to author a national story focused on Iran’s own needs, challenges and aspirations.

Kamran Talattof 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. ‘Neither Gaza nor Lebanon!’ Iranian unrest is about more than the economy − protesters reject the Islamic Republic’s whole rationale – https://theconversation.com/neither-gaza-nor-lebanon-iranian-unrest-is-about-more-than-the-economy-protesters-reject-the-islamic-republics-whole-rationale-265696